I don’t know if I’ve properly regaled the researchgirl readership with tales of horror from my last employer. Now that I’ve been with my new job-o-wonderfulness for over three months, I think I can 100% divorce myself (or perhaps exorcise is a better word) from the bad, bad, place.

There are more stories than can be retold today. I know one of my former co-workers has something in the works, so I won’t tell too much. However, here’s a brief list of craziness:

1) The boss had an energy healer come into the offices. She sprayed our rooms and computers and heads with tap water over which she’d prayed and then walked around performing signs of the cross, chanting and murmuring, while lifting crystals to the ceiling and breathing heavily. We later learned - from looking her up on Google - that she believes an invisible dragon lives in her apartment/yoga studio and that she can’t wait until she ascends to the next plane because she’ll be able to have tea with her platonic soulmate and spiritual guru who is, unfortunately, in this plane, married. Also, she used to be a lawyer and makes more money as an energy healer.

2) We had a seminar on enlightenment in business. The speaker showed us filmstrips about homeless people and illiterate people, then handed us each a pen that looked like a twig, informing us that this pen is a reminder that all things, people and situations have potential. Therefore, what is a chew-toy or fetching stick for his dog is a useful writing implement for us. It has limitless potential.

3) We had a meeting where the boss poured lentils and Lucite blocks into various jars in an effort to teach us prioritization and time management. Ideally, the experiment works thus: you pour the lentils (representing little tasks) into the jar and then try to fit the Lucite blocks (representing big jobs) on top. When you do this, the Lucite blocks don’t fit easily. If you put the Lucite blocks in the jar FIRST and then pour the lentils over them (filling the spaces around them) this represents what happens if you prioritize your big tasks and fit the little ones around them. Two funny things happened: when she attempted to pour the lentils over the blocks, the blocks deflected a great portion of the lentils and sent them flying and spilling ALL over the table and nowhere near the jar, in most cases. Secondly, when she showed us the jar with lentils at the bottom and Lucite blocks on top, she asked us how we could fix that situation. I took the jar and pushed down on the Lucite blocks, thus displacing enough lentils up and around the sides of the jar to make everything fit rather nicely. “This,” I said, “is what we all feel we’re having to do.”

4) The office had a BAD BAD mouse infestation problem. Every day, we’d come into find mouse droppings and mouse urine all over our desks, inside our drawers, under our keyboards, on our mousepads (no pun intended) and even on our computers themselves. Being a strong animal rights activist, the owner of the company refused to call an exterminator and wasted approximately 2-3 months spending money on human alternatives to extermination or poison. She had our ACCOUNTING person (and defacto office manager) purchase sonic mouse repellants (didn’t work), use humane traps baited with cheese and chocolate (caught about 3 mice, but didn’t do nearly enough - and also, someone had to empty the traps every morning and a certain guy who was customer service manager at that time was too lazy to walk down the street and thus chose to FLUSH THE MICE DOWN THE TOILET and tell us about how pathetic it looked when they were trying to swim against the flow. Then he begged us not to tell the president. Hrm.) and all sorts of other crunchy-ass ineffective methods. Finally, when several of us got together and considered calling the health department, the office manager chick sat down with the president and said, “I understand you want to do this without killing.” The pres was like, “They’re so cute! Look at their little faces!” and the office manager replied that while they might be cute, they pose some rather serious health risks to the staff, not to mention fire hazards if they start chewing on wires. Finally, poison traps were set and the mice slowly but surely disappeared.

5) In a legally questionable action, the president instituted (or, rather, tried to institute a “Positivity Policy” and made everyone sign it. This policy - what she hoped would be a legally binding document requiring us to be happy workers - contained the phrase “grumpasaurus.” In context? Sure! “If one of your co-workers is expressing negativity, ask them, “Are we feeling like a grumpasaurus today?” Yes. That was part of the policy. In the end, we didn’t have to sign it and I don’t think it went in anyone’s “personnel” file. But still. GEEZ.

I think that’s all I’ll write about for now. There are plenty more. Dissolving toilet seats, rancid vanilla, all sorts of excitement. The newest thing, however, that I’ve been made aware of is the president’s desire to partner with an organization called Cuddle Party. Of course, they have a Cuddle Party website.

What is it? Well, here’s a description from their “About Us” page:

“Cuddle Parties are affectionate play events for adults, designed to provide a space to explore and enjoy touch, nurturing and communication. We have regularly scheduled open Cuddle Parties, and are available to run private Cuddle Parties for birthdays, social groups and more.”

They have rules, too. Rule #7 is the title of this rant - that’s right. Rule #7 is NO DRY HUMPING. The rest of the rules are equally… um… oh, just check them out.

Enough of that. I often don’t think that people would believe any of this story if there weren’t many people - employees past and present - to corroborate these tales of woe. Or woah.

So. I was up this morning for the hair cut and color. Here are the results. I am most pleased:

General idea.

To the back.

Focus on color.

Now I need a NAP. And some food. Hrm.
Strike that. Reverse it. Thank you.