Aight! I know that last week I did not update this blog. And I'm still really busy. However, in order to make reparations I am going to post something that I wrote last year and hopefully something new later on in the week. This was written when I was working in a big corporate office before I knew about blogs. I think the complaining that I did then still holds true today... (And yes, all of the ratios are accurate.)

In a Big Country

As anyone who's ever shared a beer with me can tell you, I'm a Canadian. And as a Canadian I live in one of the largest countries in the world. I mean, we've got land comin' outta our Yukon, you dig? I live in a province that could fit two Texases in it! Well, okay, maybe not two whole Texases, but three Floridas and a Wyoming, for sure!

So what does this mean? It means that I hate people standing really, really close to me when there is no real reason for it. For god's sake, you could fit over 1,000 Monacos in Prince Edward Island! Back up a few feet will ya, we can spare it.

This is the biggest problem I have with my new co-worker. She's always in my face, standing too close when she talks and wanting to make eye contact with me all the time. (Man, what is up with that, by the way?)

Also, she has what I shall call Magnetic Ambler's Disease, or MAD. Normally, when two people walk side by side they each follow their own course, usually a straight-ish line in front of him/her. However, when I (a normal person) take a stroll through our corridors with her (someone affected by MAD) I find that my course is continually and inexplicably encroached upon. And no matter how I adjust my path (i.e. subtly shifting over to the left a bit), she will continually adjust her path in the exact same proportion and in the exact same direction -- as though drawn to me magnetically -- so that unless I want to brush up against her arm as I walk (and Jesus, you can fit Zimbabwe, Cambodia and two French Guianas in Quebec -- there's just no need!!) I begin to veer off further and further from my course until eventually I slam my hip into a doorknob... and I brush her arm.

I tell you I just want to stop where I am, take her by the arms, push her over a bit and yell, "Saskatchewan can fit inside British Columbia, dammit! Walk straight!!"

But then I remember I'm Canadian, and am genetically incapable of confronting her, especially because she is quite a nice Canadian herself. So I remain silent, sullenly minister to my hip, and mutter nonsensical landmass ratios under my breath.

Now I'm thinking her time at our company should be at an end. Perhaps it's time to reveal who I think has been stealing all the Post-It Notes around here. Drastic measures, I know, but they just moved the cubicles so that the corridors are even smaller. And there's got to be lots of other jobs a friendly girl like her could get, n'est pas?

I mean, in a country this size it should be a piece of cake.