Re-entry into the work atmosphere…

Vacations suck.

The reason they suck is because they end and you have to come back to work.

There’s that moment of raw panic and terror at walking in the door to work when you think, “Shit, I really don’t want to be here. I mean I REALLY don’t want to fucking be here. I would rather have my testicles pounded flat with a 9-iron than be here WORKING all fucking day.”

You can’t find any decent reason to actually BE at work, much less DO the work that you have in front of you, and you are almost positive that no one would miss you if you were gone for just one… more… day…

The trick is to ease yourself back into work. I call it “Re-entry” and, for now, it will not be a sexual term.

First, any break that you normally take in the morning is now moved up two hours… and multiplied by five. This means your morning coffee/smoke break no happens within minutes of walking in the door.

Then, checking email now includes all personal email as well as all replies. A half hour email to my Aunt telling her that she should Google things like “Crying Baby Serial Killer” and “Swiffer Wet-Jets Kill Dogs and Small Children” before forwarding me that crap is suitable. Notes to other Diarylanderarians heavily laden in sexual innuendo and smart-assedness is suggested as well.

Good work, we’re a good 2 hours in, now its time for preparing to work.

Notice I said “preparing”, we’re not ready to work yet, fucko.

The art of preparing involves getting your work set up around you so that, at any given moment, you can appear busy. This is important if you live in a fucking cube-world like I do, and you can’t see the bastards coming. Even if all they are doing is leaning in and asking, “How was your vacation?” you still need to look like your doing something other than reading up on pornstars turned infomercial queens.

Now that your work is out and is ready to get Jackie-Channed upon, you have to set up your play too. You can’t just have a site pulled up that’s called, “13 cocks in my ass a day, buy this set of knives,” because one look at the bottom of your taskbar (that hooyah at the bottom of your screen if you’re on a PC, if you’re not, eat a bag of shit) will tell anyone with a keen eye that you have 2 Internet Explorer windows open, one with a title that’s work related (“Your Company title…”) and the other one (“13 cocks in my a…”).

Avoid this by opening about 14 work-related windows, and put them all on different pages. Then their taskbar descriptions shorten into “Yo…” and “13 co…” Very handy.

This hides most of your play stuff in with your work stuff. Just remember where they’re at. When the VP is asking how I’m doing on our Intranet project, and I pull up a window that has a proctologists view of a catholic school girl (well, she’s in the uniform anyway), it doesn’t bode well. Actually, his head was turned, so by the time I yelled, “AAA!” and closed the window, he just thought that I was just commenting on his tie.

2 hours of looking at mild porn later… and we’re off to lunch. Make sure that you go out with the group since they’ll all ask you vacation questions and this will distract them from the fact that you’ve done nothing on their projects for the last 7 fucking days. Then tell them a Montezuma horror story and hope that they’ll offer to buy lunch since yours is certainly going to be painting ceramic the minute you’re back in the office.

Back from lunch you actually have to work… I’m kidding. But you do have to do some more preparing of the “work” that you have in front of you, since it’s looked the same all goddam day, you have to freshen it up a bit.

Now, it’s off to Diaryland.

Click on some banners, read some faves, read their faves, read people that list them as their faves, leave comments on every diary that has them, if for no other reason than to be a jackass.

Check your stats.

Check your Googlings.

Giggle childishly at some of your Googlings.

Try to imagine what depraved, acne-covered, 32-year-old virgin is searching on “can i pee my pants.”

Shit, more visitors. At least the porn is gone, and NO, I didn’t rub one out here at work.

I’ll wait until I’m driving home, where EVERYONE on the road can appreciate it.

Sweet, we’ve made it most of the way through the afternoon. Bless Diaryland, Bless It!

Fuck.

Emergency! Can you fix this, hummina, hummina (much wringing of hands).

Um, sorry, I’m too busy from trying to catch up… vacation you know… why don’t you get UsuallyPrettyLazyFuck to do it?

Awesome, now people are starting to go home and it’s entry time.

Typing this fucker should take around 10 minutes, mixed in with about 7 bathroom trips, and it’s QUITTIN TIME!

I’m slidin’ down the dinosaur tail and fuckin’ OUTTA HERE.

I’ll work tomorrow.

And by “tomorrow”, I mean “July.”