Wednesday, January 5, 2011

The State of my Union

Greetings boys and girls, and thank you for attending my first annual State of my Union address. Three days and 12 hours ago I embarked upon the real world. I hopped in my car and drove 20 miles in a northeasterly direction. My destination was simple: an office building. Eager to start earning some real world money, I was excited to start working. Unknown to me at that point, however, would be the actual job I would be partaking. Having knowledge in the internet and how to link sites and blogs together helped me land this job, but the act of literally posting links of my company's clients' sites across the bowels of the internet proved to be a big problem. You see, I know a lot about sports. I don't have to BS myself around the internet so that I seem like a knowledgeable individual of the sporting arena. I can blog and post stuff about sports all day long, but when it comes to blogging and posting about skin care products, nutrition supplements, and some weird fruit grown in Hawaii, my brain begins to melt. I would have rather stared at a computer screen and played minesweeper for eight hours than BS myself around the internet creating something we call "backlinks" (apparently having links to your site all over the internet gives you a better position in the Google search engine). They say drugs are bad for your brain... I felt as if the only thing to get my brain functioning correctly again was a puff of some a this and a snort of some of that (I'm 49% serious). 



Aha! While I'm on my 30-minute lunch break of which I am the only one in the office of about eight people to take (they all eat at their desks and forgo the required daily break) I receive some tremendous news via my twitter feed on my phone. It's all but official, Carlos Gonzalez is signing an 7-year $80 million deal to stay with the Rockies into his free agent years! I almost choke on my delicious Subway sandwich when I read it. Upon recovery, I realized had to tell someone. Should I tell the three Mexicans to my left? No way José. How about that fat mother to my right? (BTW I'm in some place called Frederick; I don't like it there, it smells) Still no.... I know! I'll tell someone in my office! I get back to my office in a midst of dead silence. Everyone is in a zombified state staring at their computers. I feel awkward wanting to tell the people that just hired me that I have zero interest in my work and want to tell them about how a baseball team they don't care about just signed their young star to a huge deal. Their silence spoke to me. It said: "sit down and shut up buddy, we have work to do!" I still haven't seen anyone get up to get a drink of water or use the restroom (the over/under is 23 hours). 


So day two rolls around and it gets WORSE. I'm feeling as if my brain is now a pile of slop which has thrown out any cognitive thinking ability in favor of the ability to stare at a computer screen and click. Four o'clock! I've made it seven hours... Eff this, I'm leaving. I cannot take an eight hour day. I mean, I've worked for eight hours before in a day, but that was supplemented by a few games of Fifa and a few wiffle ball dingers. 


You're thinking, "stop bitching you little bitch, at least you have a job!" And I say to that, "you're right..." Day three I was stationed to the company's second office building in which I had a wall to stare at instead of the back of someone's head (no, seriously), and things started looking up. I was given an actual job description where I could at least see how my work was valued. The people I was working with actually used words to communicate, so I no longer felt like a robot. But it was on the way home that I discovered the cure to all: Limp Bizkit. I have a 30-minute commute in which I get to drive on rural-ish highways at 70 miles per hour. What better way to let out your anger than screaming "you know what time it is, let's keep on rollin' baby!" while redlining the RSX. It then occurred to me: there are people that have way worse jobs than me, can't afford to call it a day after seven hours "just cause they felt like it", and have to sit in traffic on the way home. I will not complain anymore. 


In my outro I would like to thank the Colorado Avalanche for providing me with so many delicious Subway subs over the past months. Your $2 6" subs (just cold cut and meatball, though) ALL DAY after an Avalanche victory have proven to be staples of my diet. Well, that and Chipotle.... Wait a second, I just had an idea to make the Rockies even more awesome than they already are. Why can they not partner with Chipotle and make some sort of Taco Bell-like deal. Now I know that many people love four tacos for a buck between 4-6p.m. (with the purchase of a medium drink, of course) when the Rockies score seven or more, so I don't want to trash that. Taco Bell can take care of the Rockies offense, but the Rockies pitching and defense can be sponsored by Chipotle. So let's say if a Rockies pitcher hurls seven innings and allows three or fewer runs (so slightly better than a "quality start") then people in Colorado get 2-for-1 burritos the next day during a special time; let's say between 2-4p.m. so we don't put Chipotle out of business. You already hear the "tacos! tacos!" chants going through Coors Field every summer, but just imagine the level of interest when Ubaldo is sitting on a 4-3 lead with 120 pitches, two outs and a man on second in the 7th inning. Jim Tracy walks out to a chorus of boo's because the hunger of the state relies upon Ubaldo getting that last guy out. It is a good idea if I do say so myself. I'll be pitching it (pun intended) to Chipotle and the Rockies in the next month. Thank you and good night.