Office Space

So I've been really busy at work recently. We have a tech demo this week for a bunch of high level dudes. This has required me to be in the office before 7am almost every morning. But here is the thing, I'm not doing anything when I come in so early. Right now it's 7:28 am and I'm typing on my blog, not the most productive thing in the world. Once I'm done typing I totally intend to do some work on my virtual farm, again not really a great use of the tax payer money used to my for my PC and the two 30" Monitors sitting on my desk. Anyway, what got me thinking was the normal traditions and rituals exercised on any Monday in an office environment. It usually starts with the typical small talk that arises on any given Monday; "how was your weekend". Now this weekend was special, because the UFC had a pay-per-view, and while only a fraction of the office actually witnessed the fight, the rest of us are all too willing to hear of someone getting their @ss kicked. So instantly the person who A: Paid an ungodly price for the pleasure of viewing or B: Braved the crowded sports bar to watch becomes the most popular guy in school. Everyone else comes to his desk and listens to the somewhat scewed view of the main event. The rest of us smile and slightly pretend to be interested in it, knowing damn well we don't really care about the participants or the details, we just want to know if someone got beat up. After all humans take great pleasure in the viewing of other peoples misery, just look to Rome, they built a stadium out of stone just so they could pack in as many people possible to watch possibly hundreds of people die in combat. Moving on, we slowly move on to other peoples weekends, while I have nothing to add seeing how I remained in bed for most of the weekend either plotting my plan for world domination, or harvesting crops on my virtual farm, I remain silent and smile and nod to other peoples stories, even though I likely had a much more fulfilling weekend. After all this is over, everyone returns to their desk an acts like they are doing work, but in reality they are stalking their friends on their social network of choice, or by the sounds of the mouse clicks, working on their virtuals farms, but hey, I'm not even paying attention.