Rambling Rhodes

I are Serious Guy; This is Serious Post

The thing about starting a new job is, everything just becomes too darned serious. It's hard to think up silly things to write about when I'm perpetually inundated with all sorts of new and serious job responsibilities and meeting all sorts of new and serious people.

I'm exaggerating, of course; not everyone is all serious and all business, but when everything is basically brand new and unknown, I tend to slap a label of seriousness on it all whether it's warranted or not, which is totally out of character for me. I mean, here I am in a job where I'm likely to get to write about colons and rectums and anuses and all sorts of other medical terminology that typically can get me giggling in unfetterred glee. I should be in potty talk heaven!

As an aside, I think "Potty Talk Heaven" could very well be the most awesome imaginary locale ever conceived by any one man. There should at least be a movie made titled "Potty Talk Heaven," probably starring Steve Martin.

But, alas, no, for right now, it's all super serious; I have to put the rectums on hold, so to speak, for the time being. Any passing reference to irritable bowel syndrome will have to go un-laughed at until such time that I'm comfortable in my new professional position.

I think part of the problem right now is the new dress code I have to adhere to. There's something about wearing khaki pants, a dress shirt and tie that makes me feel as though I should just be serious by default; it's been my experience that a dress shirt and tie is usually reserved for serious events, like graduations, job interviews or funerals (all in the same day!), so maybe I'm inhibited by personal experience to think only serious thoughts whilst dressed in semi-formal attire.

Then again, maybe it's the new ID badge that has me all serious. I usually despise having to wear name tags or badges--they're conformist tools of the MAN, man--but I actually look pretty good in my new badge picture, by which I mean I still look like a serial killer, but my smile indicates I'm a serial killer with a heart in the right place (tacked up above my bed!).

Or, maybe it's my cubicle office space that has me in such a serious state of mind. They should be funny things, cubicles, because they look like workers just abandoned wall construction halfway through the job, but they have this serious effect on me, an effect that says "you should maybe stop scratching yourself like that; a tall person might see you."

Whatever the reason, I'm all about being serious right now, so I apologize for the lack of my usual whimsical observations. I'm sure they'll all come back to me in time.

Maybe if I spend a couple days in "Potty Talk Heaven". . .

Posted by Ryan at June 5, 2008 12:08 PM | TrackBack