My boss doesn’t take me seriously because I’m the youngest in the office by a decade and spend most of my time making his life hell (unrelated problems).
Yesterday he asked me to help him with a problem with a program we use but wasn’t actually listening to me when I tried to help, so it wasn’t working. He asked who the expert on this program was in our office and I told him it was me. He asked who the expert was within the organisation and I told him it was me. He sent me out of his office saying he would call IT to fix it. So I very patiently went back to my desk, where my phone rang a minute later, with IT asking me to help someone who had a problem with the program.
The sheer unadulterated joy I felt making direct eye contact with my manager through the glass wall of his office whilst I answered his phone call will fuel me for WEEKS.
i cannot stand this i keep seeing op’s face like this in my mind
please if you do anything useful in your life, don’t scroll past this
watch it
PLEASE
tchaikovsky is proud
In case anyone is baffled by this, there’s a Tchaikovsky piece in which there’s supposed to be a loud sound but he never specified what you should use to make that sound. People have done all kinds of weird shit depending on how they think the sound should, well, sound. Hitting a large piece of wood with a sledgehammer is a relatively conventional one.
uhh literally that’s not true. according to the update this child is on the autism spectrum, and he was given the opportunity to meet the artistic director. don’t spread misinformation. many orchestras are becoming more inclusive and less snobby.
thanks i was worried the orchestra killed the child
I’m both pro herbal medicine and pro vaccination because you can treat burns with aloe vera juice and sore throats with lavender infused honey but you can’t rid a country of polio with plants.
THIS.
Don’t forget kids, jewelweed is a natural counteragent to poison ivy rashes but it won’t do shit against whooping cough
Mint for nausea, valerian and chamomile for sleep, antibiotics for fucking infections.
so the thing about my family is that we have two ancestors on my dad’s side who were buried in france, where I currently live. one died in the spanish civil war, and one died prior doing…we don’t know what. but he somehow managed to get buried in père lachaise.
so anyhow, my gran sends me a message like “pls put flowers on ur uncle samuel’s grave because he’s gone over a century with none and it will make the ghost mad if he hasn’t already” because my family spends time in europe but never long enough to go all the way to père lachaise and give ya boy samuel jr. his death rites. so im like “ok gran I can do that” bc im a good grandson and you do not fuck with gran she doesn’t DESERVE THAT
i figure out which plot he’s on and ask someone specifically where you can find uncle samuel jr. and they tell me where and so I arrive at the junction and.
HE GONE.
WHERE DID YOU GO UNCLE SAMUEL.
*celine dion’s smash hit “my heart will go on” playing in the distance*
in other words either someone stole my entire great great uncle samuel or he has risen again, ready to party in paris for all of eternity.
You’re pretty chill about a corpse disappearing.
My guy, my dude, he’s been dead since 1851. He could be anywhere. He does what he wants.
