Jesus in the Workplace?

You know, it does not surprise me one iota when coworkers of mine bring up religion, because that is what sheltered, narrow-minded middle-aged ladies in the south do. This is the Bible Belt and the current political climate has only emboldened them. I expect it, really, but I still really, really hope that they won't. There's three classes of people here with respect to this issue: Ones who go by a "don't ask, don't tell" policy (Me and about 3 others!), ones who talk vociferously and regularly about religion and assume that you share their views, and ones who talk vociferously and regularly about religion and direct suspicion at people like me, who give off non-believer vibes, I suppose, without really meaning to. Most everyone around here falls into the second category. But there is one woman in particular, let's call her J, who sits firmly in the third. She constantly finds reasons to discuss anything church-related with me. One of her favorite topics is the apparently enormous collection of hats that she wears to Sunday church services (she is an African-American lady who follows in that cultural tradition of big hats and prim little suits for church). The now-large body of knowledge I now possess on J's preferred hat styles and accessories for church leads me to wonder about her agenda. It seems she is determined to whip me into shape indirectly, because she has already been told numerous times by our boss NOT to WITNESS to people at work. Yes, that's right, she used to flat-out confront people at work--how appropriate. The hat thing is kind of a stretch, but if you were listening to her, you'd get the same drift I'm getting. But it is what happened yesterday that really cemented for me that she is on a little mini mission from God to turn me around. I received an e-mail from her that was one of the well-known sappy stories where the mysterious visitor turns out to be Jesus. What a shock! That beggar was actually Christ! What a touching anecdote! Yeah, right. Anyway, after I skipped through most of this widely circulated tripe, I noticed that the message at the bottom was more ominous than usual: Something along the line of, you may think you're going to heaven, but if you don't accept Jesus Christ, you ARE going to hell, heathen! Then I looked at the address bar. It was addressed only to me. She took the time to single me out for this little eternal damnation reminder. For a few minutes, I entertained the idea that she might not know how to do an e-mail list, as she is one of the most computer illiterate people I've ever met, and instead sent it out to people separately. So I ask my boss if she received the same e-mail. She didn't, but a look of annoyed recognition came over her face. I said, "she's singling me out, isn't she?" She replied that it was most likely. She used to do the same to my boss until she told her to cut that shit out. This morning, I received another, more generic Jesus-themed e-mail from her addressed to a long list of people, confirming my suspicions. I decided to just ignore J's little overtures, because I figure that will perturb her more. She's just baiting me so that I will come to her and "initiate" a long, horrible, degrading and lively witnessing speech! Um, no. I've sat through enough of those, thank you very much. Although I would love to see her expression when, after I've sat through the entire spiel, I tell her that I'm definitely not going to become a Christian and that her attempts to witness to me just made me feel the power of my convictions even more! Thanks, J! It would be absolutely fucking priceless. But for harmony's sake, I will just ignore her. I actually have tact and sensitivity. She's going to be praying for me either way. I have this little fantasy where some well-meaning Christian prays for other's souls and finally, after all these years, gets an answer: "Just leave these poor people alone, you loser! Get a life, and quit bothering me, shit." Ha! But it's only a beautiful dream.

Misplaced Priorities

What is the deal with tanning? Beginning at the end of February, corps of tan-fabulous coworkers head to the tanning beds in droves, or so it would seem. Apparently a normal skin tone for the end of winter is "pasty" and horrible. Me, being as fair-skinned as I am, I get looks that range from pity to utter contempt when I tell them I couldn't care less about tanning. They seem really interested, like "what is that ghostly, sickly kid going to DO this summer!" I'm going to wear SPF 30, people! I actually don't want skin cancer, silly me. Around July everyone will be comparing tans and invariably the most tan person will have praise heaped upon them. I never know what to say--"Way to go! The staggering darkness of your tan really camoflauges your damaged skin well!" A lady I work with had a scare recently when her 22-year-old daughter was diagnosed with melanoma. Used to lay out in the sun a lot. Now, this woman is not one to keep a single gory detail to herself, so you would think this well-publicized event would temper the tanorexics'(to borrow a term from David Sedaris) need for excess melatonin. Alas, no. Maybe it is a southern thing, something that all leathery Tennesseeans can take pride in. I guess trying to AVOID CANCER is just so....Yankee.

Doing the Blog Thing

I figured it was about time I got my own blog. I've got a lot to say, but I'm not a person who goes around pontificating to strangers. I kind of like the fact that blogging has allowed people to hear you out without any of the usual stuff clouding their judgment. It's pretty amazing when you think about it. There are a lot of bad things about it, too, but that is a topic for another day. A little more about me...I am a 23 year-old college graduate who works in an office surrounded by middle-aged women, some grumpy, some clueless, and some who are both of those and more. As utterly normal (read: uninteresting) as this job is, it still manages to be a surreal experience. Before I started working here, I never imagined that a female-dominated office environment would be just as catty, backbiting and negative as it appears in movies and on television. But it is. Oh, how it is. Take a job here and observe how the minutiae of daily life becomes fodder. Five minutes late? Well, next staff meeting long-suffering boss will dutifully "remind" everyone that we need to be to work on time because some of our coworkers don't appreciate it, because it's not fair. Well, I don't think it's fair that the aggrieved parties (you can always tell who ratted on you by the smug expression) leave 10 minutes early every freaking day, but that's me. I don't pay attention to what time anyone comes in, how many cigarette breaks they take, or how much they generally SUCK. I don't want to, at all. I just passively take it all in and remember certain choice tidbits when I'm indirectly called out in a meeting for the most minor of infractions. Thank god my boss is as laid-back as her boss will allow her to be. That is the only reason I've been able to stay in this job. Certain people seem to derive a bloated sense of importance in pointing out other people's faults, as if complaining about that extra cigarette break will make them any less dumpy and divorced. And of course, I get far less respect than my coworkers because of my age, it is exceedingly obvious. Among the complaints that I've heard are that I dress too much like a student! Well, I was a student two years ago, dumbass. I'm 23, sorry. I don't do stirrup pants with theme sweaters or rayon blend pantsuits. And I definitely don't have the money to get a new "work" wardrobe to please people who would just replace that with another grievance as soon as I did. More on this later...