Why Am I Here?

This is not an existential post, I don't even want to begin to ponder deep questions just before Christmas. It is, also, not a question about why I am blogging. I would blog even if no one read my blog, just to let the evil spirits that reside in my fingers free. I blogged away in relative anonymity for a few months now and that didn't shut me up, I figure not much could at this point.

Nope, I am asking, literally, why I am here at work? I am fairly certain that I could come in the morning, put a blow up doll in my chair and leave and not a fucking soul would notice. My boss left until January 7th, yesterday. Not even 2 minutes after he left, I hear, "Denice, Denice?" from the cube next to me. "What?" "Are you still here?" "Yes (no, dickweed, the voices in your head are finally starting to answer your stupid ass questions, in a female voice)." "Why? Your Boss Man left." "Yeah, but I gotta let him clear the parking structure before I can head out."

First of all; I am here because I started as an employee late in the year and have no vacation time. I don't have a damn thing to do, while I am here, mind you. But, here I am, Captain Buck Rogers reporting for duty, every morning 8:30 am sharp.

Want to know why I am really here, other than the fear of getting fired? It's quiet here. I get to listen to my own music and blog without interruption. It's like my own personal spa retreat on company time. Don't worry, I leave early and enjoy some quality time with the heathens as well, but I am enjoying myself in the meantime.


Drink of the day:

Two finger shot of Bourbon (as needed)