First, I have an admission. Admonish me if you will, but my husband and I recently bought a television. A 20somethig inch plasma HD flat screen DVD thingie that also shoots fireworks from its butt. This television is pretty glorious, beating out the old standby we used for the past 2+ years of laptop dragged over to the coffee table with auxiliary computer speakers to blast the sweet sounds of Jersey Shores: Season 1 on DVD.Oh, oops, I meant to say Ken Burns Presents The Civil War on DVD.
That totally explains why I never post to this blog.
I was on the no-television wagon for a couple of years and thought I was finding my real purpose in life in an existential sense—I was one of those I Don’t Need A Television folks!—for surely I could find satisfying amusement in knitting, mounting wall racks or lacquering an upcycled porch swing. Then I fell off that wagon. Not hard or particularly jarring, the falling. But now my television keeps me from helping starving orphans. And my dog is getting a little bit fatter.
And there is a lot of crap on television. And I hate every glassy eyed moment spent watching Million Dollar Money Drop. But I do it anyway. So here we get around to Thursday nights. The Office is on NBC in prime time perpetuity.
I don’t think I’ve seen an episode since we gorged ourselves on The Season Where Pam and Jim Get Married at the End. Around this time, I was working in a cold office under a bridge at a Big Ten University dying for some human interaction that didn’t involve hashing out the intricacies of OMB Circulars as they relate to institutional funding. (No really, it’s a riot. You should check it out. ) And when I was doing that during the day, it’s own kind of cubicle-related typical desk job, I was honestly in hysterics with the show. Loved it!
Now that I’ve been in a new position—as a certified writer! Okay, so “content producer”, but that, in large part, actually means I write things from scratch and edit it and get feedback from others—at an e-learning company for a couple of months now, I was ready to embrace the show again. It was time. I still sit at a desk. At a desk job. In a non-academia setting. This is a perfect! I’ll love The Office, because I’ll learn valuable skills about being endearingly charming when I meet someone over at the copier at my company. I can replicate something that one of the people on the show did! It’ll be great.
Instead I just squirm through the 22 minutes. It feels so awful to see the characters roboting around inside the little windowless, wall less space. Communicable disease! Awkward personal relationships exposed! Boss says something to make the company look bad! You just asked the secretary to do some menial task you were too lazy to do! You’re lying about that sick day! You can’t download that on a work computer!
Does this mean I like my new job?! As in truly satisfied with the way things are turning out? Could it be?!
Is like for The Office the perfect inverse of like for the office?
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3 comments:
love this
For the record, dear readers, I happen to know first hand that Laurie and "her husband" have never watched an episode of "Jersey Shore," and have not watched more than several minutes of "Million Dollar Money Drop."
Laurie is, in fact, watching Charlie Rose while "her husband" types this comment.
This cracks me up. Makes me think of how, in the olden days (that is, high school and college), romantic comedies and Shakespeare-in-Loves were like relationship-heroin. And then you actually have an enjoyable relationship and all the fancy-shmancy TV love can be a little bit like too many Mallow Cups (or too much rock candy, for those who don't go for marshmallow-y goodness). I wonder if there's a show that can work as a gauge for PhD programs - ? I fear what such a gauge would have said about me during my MFA days . . .
As an aside, Shakespeare in Love is still an all-time favorite, even if that's shameful to admit. And that love is due in no small part to the beauty of Joseph Fiennes.
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