I’ve been doing (or not doing) something for nearly a week now, and I’ve been dying to shout it from the rooftops. As a little announcement foreplay, just to get a little preview of how satisfying it would feel to share this news on a wider scale, over the past several days I’ve informed everyone I know who entertains general, pointless text messages from me (which is approximately six people). Unfortunately, that satisfaction was short-lived, because eventually each of those six people got busy and abandoned me, leaving me completely alone with this exciting, thrilling thing I want to share with the world.
Alas, here we are. I, at the end of my rope; you, eager to receive the information I’ve so shamelessly hyped up to a level completely unfitting of the quality of the information.
Before laying it all on the line, know that what I’m about to share is the kind of thing that one should never utter aloud, let alone announce and immortalize on the Internet for every Craigslist killer, elitist troll, or future employer to see. I’m not sure how to phrase this enigmatically, so I’m just going to blurt out the interjection I’ve wanted to articulate for days now:
I HAVEN’T HAD ANY REAL WORK TO DO SINCE LAST THURSDAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Oh my gosh. It feels so good to let it all out. I feel like I just unbuttoned my pants after dinner at Olive Garden (dem breadsticks doe) or took off a sweaty sports bra after owning the elliptical at the gym.
Please don’t tell anyone about this (or about my Olive Garden eating habits or my sweaty bra), because I’m pretty sure doing little to no work while you’re getting paid is something that’s frowned upon in the professional community (unless you’re a CEO—which I’m not, by the way—unless your definition of CEO is Cheesecake Enthusiast Officielle).
Realistically, I’m sure every employer recognizes that each employee is going to use at least one to three hours of company time to dick around, daydream, or steal. The fact that I’ve chosen the first two out of the three to pass the time should be admired, not admonished. It stands to reason that actual work is always be prioritized in between skimming BuzzFeed, anyway, but I feel like I’m pushing the boundaries here, and as electrifying as this crazy journey was in the beginning, I’m starting to get a little paranoid, bored, and crazy.
I rely on other employees in another office in another city to do other things so that I can do my job, and if they’re all busy working on another project, well, that doesn’t leave me a whole helluva lot to do. Everyone (except me, seemingly) has been so busy lately that I don’t think anyone has even had the time to question, “While we’re all busy doing ______, what’s Katie up to besides refreshing Instagram every ten minutes?”
Well I’ll tell you what Katie’s been up to. (Besides refreshing Instagram every ten minutes.)
Katie’s been filling her dual monitors with work-related documents and spreadsheets to give the appearance of working hard while she plays Candy Crush on her phone. Katie’s been on Facebook, delving so far back into her newsfeed’s archive that’s she’s just becoming aware of breakups that happened last year. Katie has been writing for her blog. Katie has been speaking in the third person as a means to distance herself from the fact that she’s been pissing away company time (several times a day, this figurative expression becomes literal).
What other options were at my disposal? What else was I supposed to do? Tell the truth? …At work? Should I have casually stridden up to my boss with a refreshingly candid, “Yo yo, I don’t have any work to do, what’s good?”
I can’t do that, not only because I’d never start a conversation with my boss using “yo yo,” but because I’m sure I should be using this unusual lull to be a “self-starter” who finds new work to occupy her time. I couldn’t even finish writing that sentence with a straight face. I think we all know I’m not self-starting shit. I didn’t self-start the fire! Okay. Remember when I said I was getting a little crazy?
I can’t put my worklessness on blast because then I’ll be on the radar! I want no part of any radar—that includes any prepositional radar implications such as under or below the radar. I just want to be radar-free at work and in life.
At least sitting at my desk, pretending to be engrossed in some nonsense, I’m maintaining the status quo. By keeping up appearances and concealing my absence of work, I’m saving everyone the headache of concerning themselves with my gratuitous free time. I don’t want to trouble anyone with my silly problems!
In the beginning, I was a little worried. Whenever I don’t have any work to do, I always start thinking there’s something I should be doing that I’m not doing. In this case, I’ve done extensive research (during the time I’ve not been working on much of anything), and I haven’t come across anything that I’m supposed to be doing. At this point, I’ve even gotten caught up on all the work I was behind on that I’m always behind on because no one monitors it but me so who cares if it’s finished on time. That should tell you how dire this situation is.
I even started to wonder if maybe I’m not the only one who’s pretending. What if all the work-related conversations and frequent typing of the others on my team are as falsified as everything that’s taking place in my own cubicle? I COULD BE THE BRAVE ONE TO FREE US ALL FROM THIS OVERWHELMING ROUSE! We could end this charade and openly browse the Internet during this rare interval of freedom! We could share vending machine snacks (and later, regrets for consuming vending machine snacks) and bask in our time away from deadlines and quotas, spending our working hours pretending to bond and relaxing!
…But since I figured it’s a lot more likely that it’s just me who isn’t doing any work, I decided to keep pretending all day.
Things were beginning to look bleak. I was quickly reaching the point of worklessness where it isn’t even fun anymore. The initial euphoria of free time at the office wore off after lunchtime on day two. I was rapidly approaching the point of angry boredom—a rare breed of boredom that happens when you could find ways to pass the time, but none of them are appealing to you because you simply resent requiring entertainment in the first place. I suspect this “angry boredom” is why many a medieval jester lost his life.
Then something happened. A mysterious event. Just in my time of need.
Malaysia Airlines Flight 370 literally disappeared, so I took it upon myself to investigate every aspect of this phenomenon that oddly reflected (albeit on a much grander scale) the sudden troubling disappearance of my workload.
I am now intimately familiar with many aspects of this missing plane. If it wouldn’t tip off my coworkers that I’m trying to solve a missing plane mystery instead of working, I’d have information pinned up all over my cubicle connected by red thread.
I read all about the stolen passports that were listed as stolen in Interpol’s database and determined to be in the possession of two young Iranian men, one that was allegedly trying to seek asylum in Germany. Many sources, including Malaysian police and Interpol, are downplaying the possibility of terrorism by stating that the individuals were “probably not terrorists.” Not very reassuring, but it makes sense, because until we’ve actually figured what happened to the plane or the 239 people on board (227 passengers, 12 crew members), it’s probably not a good idea to start throwing the “t” word around. New reports are suggesting that the plane went way off course, leading many experts to question if perhaps mechanical failure was to blame. If a major mechanical problem occurred that affected electrical power, it would make sense to turn back, because most countries aren’t cool about random airplanes flying into their airspace unannounced. An electrical problem would also explain the sudden disruption in communication. What’s odd about air traffic controllers losing all contact with the plane is that it happened when the Boeing 777 (widely regarded as one of the safest jets) was cruising at 35,000 feet, during what’s considered the “easiest” part of the flight. The pilots never indicated any problems, and allegedly the skies were clear. There are also reports that suggest the plane is equipped with software that lets out some sort of distress signal upon impact that would make it easier to locate it in a rescue mission, but no such signal has been transmitted. More than ten countries are involved in the search effort, including China, the U.S., Australia, and New Zealand. Vietnam is helping too, but they’re starting to get pissed because they think Malaysia isn’t telling them to look in the right places, which is the general problem with this search mission. No one’s really sure where to look (allegedly), and any possible evidence that has been found (oil slicks, a supposed plane door) has turned out to be a bust. With the amount of fuel in the plane, there’s a 4,000 mile radius where it could have traveled, which means debris could be found all over the place. Experts agree that whatever took place probably falls into one of three categories: mechanical failure, pilot error, or “probably not” terrorism. Something that’s interesting to note, though, is that in 2012 one of the plane’s wing tips was damaged, but supposedly it was fully repaired, the jet was safe to fly. The plane’s last inspection was in February 2014. I also took the time to read the English-translated pilot transcript of Air France 447, a plane that crashed in the Atlantic Ocean due to pilot error, just to get a little context for this kind of thing (though that situation is very different because that was an Airbus plane as opposed to a Boeing).
There are a number of theories flying around about what happened to Malaysia Flight 370, and it doesn’t look good, but until we get anything concrete, I’m holding out hope for this solution:
I just hope what the passengers experience on the island is more compelling than seasons 3-6 of the series.
In all seriousness, this is all kinds of crazy, and I really want to know what the hell is going on. I’m invested in this now. If one of my loved ones was on a plane that literally disappeared out of the clear sky, I’d want Benedict Cumberbatch on it.
So this is what I’m doing with my workdays lately—attempting to solve unsolvable mysteries that I’d have little chance of solving even with the proper education and expertise.
I never thought I’d say this, and no offense to Malaysia Airlines Flight 370, but I hope have some work to do again, soon.
