Monthly Archives for July 2011

How to Fail at Netflix

It’s actually pretty obvious: just don’t send it back. Hold onto that DVD like it’s the Wilson to your Tom Hanks. Don’t even watch it until a month after it arrives, just keep it lying around, circulating the various rooms of your home. Then, after 4 months (to the day), put it in your bag like you’re going to take it to a blue box (because the mailman refuses to take it from your mailbox). Only maybe also put a bottle of water in with the cap not quite screwed on all the way. Flood said bag. Examine your work:

Before:

After:

 

Consider your choices, accept defeat, subsequently lose destroyed envelope, and just settle for instant view. Maybe a nice “Inspiring Social Issue Drama Based on a Book”, or a delightful little “Emotional Independent 20th Century Period Piece”. Jesus.

A Tale of Blurses and Rage

Today’s blurse: the new office.

Blessing: If you don’t have an office, you can make one anywhere you please. Sometimes that’s the park, sometimes it’s your bed (don’t judge me), but mostly it’s the cafe down the street. Fully engulfed in the smoky aroma of freshly brewed coffee (drool, heaven), delicious and freshly-made sandwiches and really cool-looking people, this is possibly the least productive place for anyone with a penchant for over-indulging in coffee and a nasty case of people-watching ADD.

Look at all your new coworkers! Where are they going? What is that girl doing with her nose? Are they unemployed too? Are they fully employed in some sort of telecommuting position? Can you get in on that? Does anyone want to share a cookie? I feel like we’ve been working here for our entire lives, let’s all just slip out early and go to happy hour, right guys? Seriously though, why is no one at work?

Curse: The coffee isn’t free anymore and headphones are required wear. Minor complaints, to be sure, these former luxuries are easily conceded in favor of human interaction and social immersion. A larger curse, and one that I am right now as we speak being irrationally furious about, is Jesus Christ woman why are you so effing close to me?! I swear to god, if you continue to casually rub your arm against my laptop in some thinly veiled attempt at making yourself appear to be overly crowded in your CORNER SEAT that you willingly chose to sit in as opposed to the open row of chairs directly to my left, I might just throw the last two sad little ice cubes in my cup at your face. Seriously woman, I am in no mood. You don’t even know.

We’re Talking Blurses, Ya’ll!

Today’s: Days, Times, and the New Negligence

Blessing: Do I even need to count the ways? Freed from the ties that bind others to the traditional 9-5, 40 hour workweek schedule, the calender is your oyster and you are shucking your way to happy hour. Not a morning person? Sleep through it, you’re not exactly missing anything. You want to visit a museum without the hassle of shuffling tourists through Metro turnstiles? That’s why God made Tuesdays.

Curse: What day is it? Seriously, I just spent the past 6 hours thinking it was Friday. Why 6 hours? Because in loosening the grasp on weekday comprehension, so too has gone any concern for time. Let me just tell you this, readers: almost nothing will make you question your life decisions like realizing it’s 5:30 am and you’re watching Parks and Recreation while eating spaghetti for breakfast. And no, not because you’ve been up all night enjoying the carefree lifestyle of someone without an early morning wakeup call. You actually got up for this. Who. Are. You.