You know it’s going to be a bad day when you put your thong on backwards.

About 3 weeks ago I bought a fish for my desk at work. I can kill a fish in 30 days, and that’s by doing everything right – food, water, PH levels... I am a fish serial killer and yet, I can’t help but keep trying. I’m surprised I haven’t been marked at all pet stores within a 50 mile radius. I’ve started paying in cash and wearing baseball caps as a precaution whenever I need pet supplies. Plus, I dispose of their little bodies Mafia-style – wrapped in a plastic bag, weighted down with chains and flushed down the toilet. Capisce?

I named my fish Stares because that’s all he does. I was going to name him Victim, but that seemed too heartless. I can’t wait until I have kids. I’ll be naming them Pukes, Shits and Screams. I hope my future husband’s last name is Lots. Wait, I got off track. What was I talking about? OH, right. The fish.

So yeah, I’m impressed: Stares is holding his own. He isn’t weak or sick. He’s actually quite feisty, like there is a little gremlin inside that fish body just waiting to get out…and kill me. Every Monday morning I half-expect to find a mangled cleaning person, dead at my desk, and pieces of torn clothing and a few stray jerry curls floating in Stares’ bowl. I think he’s capable of anything.

And there you have it, people. That’s my fish story. Since my company is shifting all the work to other locations, I don’t have much to do these days in the office except blog and look for jobs. Speaking of which, I’ve applied to a hard-ass company a friend of mine recently started working at. They really ran her through the ringer during the hiring process. Five interviews and a personality test. She’s a blonde, so I had to explain that peeing in the cup was really a drug test. Either way, she must have one clean personality, because she was hired. It remains to be seen if I am a warm enough body for their body snatchers to invade. I am sure you are all on the edge of your seats. I know I am.

I bet rodeo clowns would be really good at running with the bulls in Spain.

I can’t help but think this job situation is a sign from God telling me to change careers. I figured I’d put a list together of things I could do that not only would I enjoy doing, but also would make the world a better place.

Pie-Packer at McDonald’s. Who doesn’t like pie? It’s in enough demand to keep me busy, but not so busy that I’m overwhelmed.

The Crowner at Burger King. I can be the lady who hands out the crowns! Crowns make everyone happy. Think about the worst day you’ve ever had. Now imagine wearing a crown on that same day. See? I bet it made that memory a little brighter.

Crumb scraper. Ever go to a restaurant and after the meal (but before dessert) the waitress/waiter comes over and uses that little metal scraper to get the crumbs off the table? Imagine how much time I could save them if I did it FOR them. It makes the patrons happy because I’ve rescued them from crumbs. I could take the crumbs and feed them to birds and old people in nursing homes…it’s a win-win for everyone involved!

Stupid. That’s right, I could be “stupid.” Do you realize how many people own “I’m with Stupid [arrow]” t-shirts and never wear them because really, they don’t know anyone stupid. Talk about a waste of 100% Cotton! I could be that person! We’d hang out side by side and you could finally wear your shirt. Everyone would laugh at how funny you are and it would result in your increased popularity. You're happy, they're happy, we're all happy, and I'm stupid!

Alright, so that’s all I’ve got so far. I'm confident I could master all of these. I might even toss in a clever skill, like plate spinning, to help double or even quadruple the happiness quotient. Everyone likes plate spinners. How can you not? They usually wear cool, bedazzled clothes and EVERYONE loves bedazzles. They’ve got long sticks – sticks are just plain fun! And then the spinning plates. It’s like a one-man Cirque de Soleil! It really doesn’t get much better than that.

I’ll let you know what I end up doing.

Breaking up is hard to do. Breaking up concrete is even harder, though.

The bright side to knowing I won’t be working in my current office in a few months (aside from getting away from the unnatural stinkbug infestation) is getting away from the creepiest dude I’ve ever met. Again, I’ll call him “Richard” to protect his identity.

Quick physical description: Richard is 52 years old, very Irish, gawky skinny and has a face that looks like it was set on fire and put out with an ice pick. What makes him creepier is the fact that he can’t help but play with his balls whenever he talks to me. I’ve made a mental note of it: He doesn’t do it when he talks to anyone else. But with me? Man, he’s one nut shy of a full-on juggling act.

It not only grosses me out, but it infuriates me. There’s absolutely no reason for it. And just yesterday, while he was sitting down, facing me (spread eagle, of course), he did a full-on crotch grab…like he was picking oranges at the supermarket or something. While seated. Did you get that?? SEATED. I didn’t even think guys had that kind of problem while they were sitting down!

Look, I understand guys love their balls. I get it. They’re like fuzzy little stress reliever squishies. Fine. Well, I think exfoliating my feet is a stress reliever, but you don’t see me giving myself a pedicure in the office, clipping my gangly toenails all over the place.

So yeah, while potentially losing my job sucks, losing the people I work with is pretty awesome.

What's cooler than losing your job? EVERYTHING.

I lost my job on Thursday. Well, I didn't exactly LOSE it. I know exactly where it went: Boston. My company is shutting down my office and absorbing our operations in the home office. Wait, it gets better.

We were given the option: take a transfer (to Boston, or another out-of-state office that is staying open), or find yourself another job by the time they close the doors on June 30.The craziest part of this whole thing is that every-single-person I told responded the same way: You're kidding!!! Well, no, for as FUNNY as this is, I'm not. My jokes are typically funnier. But it made me realize two things: 1. I must be a pretty heavy-duty ball buster, and 2. I can use this opportunity to change careers.

I've been doing insurance for 12 years (Feb marks my anniversay). How does the saying go? It's like riding a bike...? No, wait. It's like Lance Armstrong riding a bike....he doesn't have any other skills. Yeah, that's it. It's kinda like that. I don't know how to do anything else. Well, as far as "things you can legally do in public and get paid for" are concerned. Huh. I'll figure it out, I s'pose.

In the meantime, I'm having a lot of fun with this at work. One of my coworkers, I'll call him Richard Grabber(to protect his identity) asked me to email my resume to him, since he's had this job for the past 26 years and doesn't know where to start with resume-making. I verify his email and say, "You're the only Richard Grabber in the company, right?" He says, "Yup!" and then I say, "Not for long, buddy!" And for a moment, I think he got mad, but then he remebered I was in the same boat.

So, we get news we're on our way out. The next day my team had a conference call with our Boston team (the eternally employed group). We beep into the call and they welcome us with a, "Hey, the Berwyn office just joined us!" I then said, "Yeah, we're one of the offices that won the lottery!" I heard someone whisper on Boston's end of the phone, "What did she say?" So I repeated myself. SILENCE on the phone. The people in the room with me smirked. So I cleared my throat and asked, "Too soon?"

It's amazing how people completely lose all humor during times like this. Some people around my office look like they're going to kill themselves. I could never do that. I like myself too much. Plus, I'm uber funny. I should be able to make myself laugh. Or is humor like tickling, and you can't tickle yourself? Maybe YOU can't, but I can. That's like my X-Men power: Self Tickling. They call me Giggles.

In any case, I'll leave you with some Office Space quotey goodness: "We've noticed you've been missing a lot of work lately." "To be honest, Bob, I wouldn't say I've missed it."