Fridge's Five Stages of Work Related Anger

I have a very nice job. I work at a solid, respected company and have my own cubicle. By no means am I miserable like Dana Complaina. In fact, I tried to get Miss C a job at my company. I don't know what went wrong, she probably brought her negative attitude into the interview and screwed it all up. The point of my writings this evening is to tell you, dear reader, about my five stages of anger that I express during the average work day. I have a kickass iPod boombox on my desk at work and over 4000 songs to choose from, and I could just use multisyllabic words (like RVD would) to describe my hate and disgust. Instead, I'm going to let you imagine my demeanor based on my musical selections at each of these five stages.


DEFCON 5 - 311/Incubus
Here, I'm still at the point where I think that music with positive vibes can cure me. One of my coworkers has generally asked me a repeated question that I explained to he or she (probably a she) at least twelve times before. Perhaps my GChat isn't working so I can't communicate with Ron Von Don and Dana Complaina. Most mornings bring some bad news though...Hillary Clinton still allowed in public without a muzzle, the Red Sox signing an obese Bartolo Colon, the Celtics signing an alien looking Sam Cassell, or me getting poked inappropriately by one of K-Rock's idiot PSU friends on facebook. Oh well, maybe things are looking up.

DEFCON 4 - TOOL/Smashing Pumpkins
I've passed the point where music can positively effect me. I'm at the stage where I need to tap my feet to the beat of a song or else my foot is going into the back of someone's head when they are stupidly staring at their computer without being able to comprehend the work in front of them. The general creepiness of Maynard J Keenan and Billy Corgan amuse me to the point where I (unfortunately) probably still seem approachable to people at the office. I guess subconsciously I'm listening to 7th grade rock because I had no responsibility then, and wish it was the same now. Someone please stab me with a letter opener.

DEFCON 3 - Iron Maiden
More than likely, sweat is beading up on my forehead because I've realized that I have at least six more hours of this douchebaggery to deal with. It's two hours into the work day and the best conversation my cube mates can come up with is to discuss the congestion on Rtes 128 and 90 that morning. People should only be allowed to complain about things that they can't control...like "Wow, that Condi Rice still won't give me the time of day, even with the naked pictures I sent her,"... perfectly acceptable. But choosing to live 40 miles away from your office and complaining that it took you two hours to get to work will henceforth be met with a very, very dirty look from two angry eyes in my bald head. I find that "Number of the Beast" gets me through the 10am hour fairly well due to the fact that I can pretend I'm playing Guitar Hero.

DEFCON 2 - Kelly Clarkson
All I want is to be left alone. I can see lunch coming, but I know my phone is going to ring and that stupid Outlook email preview window is going to pop up at least twice before I can feed. Miss Independent is my only hope at this point. The topic of conversation has moved from traffic to the weather now. Everyone has also mentioned at least twice that they have headaches and are really tired. Hearing KC's voice and picturing her hazel eyes is my only hope to make it to lunch without committing a homicide.

DEFCON 1 - Daughtry
I get back from lunch and find out that no one has quit, my phone has voicemails and my computer still works. Power buttrock ballads are my only hope for 3 more hours of work. This music really gives me a chance to meditate on the real struggles of other middle class catholic straight caucasians. Maybe I don't have it so bad. After all, I could be a high school Latin teacher.

Cheers,
William Perry