Office World

So far, the office world is not becoming of me. The collating machine is named "Hal" after the villainous computer in 2001: A Space Odyssey. You have to walk over skulls and crossbones to access the paper tray.
My first week was rocky. On the first day, I made 385 copies of the wrong document. On bright green card stock. The boss lunged at me, arms outstretched, and shrilled out in desperate panic, "WH-WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"

I actually had to jump out of her way. Her freakout opened my eyes to my own demons: I'm wholly impulsive, and my emotions carry me away sometimes; they blow me up with colors, I get excited. I walk on clouds and lava, clouds and lava.

It's really fucking annoying to be on the receiving end of a fiery personality like that. I saw the future of my impetuousness in that crazed little woman's eyes.

I gave a couple of the girls in the office this whole speech about standing up for themselves. Who am I to tell them shit, I know. "If you're not respected here, get the fuck out!" I said. "You, you want to paint! Paint! Quit taking their shit."

I can see how that was irritating of me.