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Saturday, February 20, 2010

Hey. I'm e-mailing you something.

Interoffice spam mail has become the bane of my mid-day work week.

Cute Panda babies, scroll-down forwards, Top Ten worst si-fi movies worth seeing-- its all fair game in my work place right now. And I hate all of it. See, aside from gender, and a common employer, I don't have a lot in common with my co-workers. And I never pretended to, so when my inbox suddenly started to become flooded with irrelevant, time wasting video clips, I had to ask myself -- what did I do to deserve this? What cultural sign did I erroneously give off to make my co-workers think I wanted to see a 2 minute video of a skeleton with a boner? And how did they get my e-mail address to begin with?

Humor is the worst. Or what they consider humor. I fancy myself slightly humorous, but what they're sending should not qualify as entertainment. I find myself dreading the outbursts of laughter I hear from around the corner. I know whats coming. They call out from their desk to inform me that they've sent me something, and I am obligated to watch it immediately. As if it were, I don't know, my job. -Did you get it?- Yes. I got it. And, methodically, they wait, the exact time it took them to carefully and diligently look over the e-mail, then they ask me-- no, they tell me-- Isn't that funny -- Yes. Funny. Good. Moving on.

How can anyone possibly enjoy this cycle? I imagine in the future there will be a name for this mental illness. The forced perpetuation of mediocre humor via e-mail. Until then, I will strive to master the art of sounded enthusiastic about a joke while simultaneously deleting an e-mail.

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