For those of you who have read my blog for awhile, you might have noticed that I complain. A LOT!! Seriously, I can find just about anything to complain about - my favorite topic lately? The office move and now that we have moved, the new building. Speaking of which (yep, another complaint!) is it too much to ask that the bathroom be stocked with toilet paper and paper towels? I am not a fan of the new building. If there was a "dislike" option for the new building, I would select it.
Beware when I’m tired. The complaints flow out of my mouth like lava, swiftly and continuously. Just ask my co-workers. Common “Emily” phrases when I am tired (and sometimes when I am not)? Stupid this. I hate that. The thing is I don’t really mean anything by the complaints. For the most part, I don’t expect anything to come of them. It’s cathartic on my part. Once I’ve complained, I feel better. I’ve expressed my frustration, or made my point, and I can move on. Done, end of story. I like to complain. There I said it. I like to complain.
What brought on this foray into complaining? We have been working late and usually when we are working late, there is some sort of theme or contest or phrase that will get picked up. This time, it is an Oscar competition. We earn Oscars for being overly dramatic. How did this start? I was complaining about something, and apparently being very dramatic in my complaining and I earned an Oscar. I earned two more in quick fashion, I think about a meeting or a workpaper. At the moment I am tied for first place with 4 Oscars. We’ll see what the final tally ends up being.