Am I gonna have to separate you two?

Today was a rough day. Not in the respect that I was swamped at work or anything, it's just the amount of distraction and sheer stupidity I had to contend with.

Imagine trying to type in three pages of hand-written grammatically-incorrect text, trying to correct yourself as you went along, all the while having two of your co-workers acting like total idiots three feet away from you and your boss having a loud discussion with a client just outside the doorway to your office. The client/boss conversation I can pretty much tune out, but those two co-workers were flicking pennies at my last nerve. And the real distraction for me is trying not to let it show that they were bugging the piss out of me, because getting a reaction out of me is just the icing on the cake for the two of them.

About a year ago, I had the opposite problem with one of those co-workers. She would be so quiet in the office that she would startle me big time when she did make a sound. So, to combat this, she started making little sounds: Whistling, scooting her feet when she walked, etc.

Well, that habit has mutated into a constant loop of meows, whistles, burps, fake fart sounds, and childish singing...kinda like if R2-D2 mated with a eight-year-old that was raised by cats. Seriously, it's like trying to work with a Spike Jones album playing on a perpetual loop.

But now, she's ganged up with the woman I share an office with, and now it's a competition to see who can be more annoying. It also doesn't help that R2-D2 girl brought in a talking Napoleon Dynamite figurine. Now, whenever they sense that I'm getting annoyed, they always say, "You know what I say to that?" and then push the button until they get Napoleon to say "I wish you'd get out of my life and shut up!" And that that damned thing has 18 different phrases, I usually have to listen to the entire collection until they're satisfied. One day, I took the batteries out and she yelled at me for messing with her stuff. It's enough for me that I NEVER want to see that fucking movie ever again. Hell, I can't even bring myself to wear the "Liger" shirt my neices bought me for Christmas because I now hate the movie so much.

Another fatal error on my part was to clue them in that I fucking HATE the smell of popcorn, because they cook several bags of it in the microwave every day. I'm sure they don't do it to annoy me, but it's a bit unnerving for me to walk into my own office and wish I had a couple of cat turds to shove up my nose because it's the only thing strong enough to mask the odor...and is actually better smelling in my opinion.

I mean, what the hell? How sad is it that a cholicky baby with Tourette's would be too MATURE of a comparison for the amount of stupidity that comes from these two every day?

I guess I just have to deal with it. I'm not gonna quit my job because of something like this because I was here first. Besides, a guy with a barrel of monkeys and a Obi-Wan Kenobi Beanie Baby resting on top of his monitor is the last one to tell you you're being immature. But at least none of my toys make noise, I don't funk up the entire office with Orville Redenbacher, and I'm at least somewhat aware when I'm annoying someone and actually take steps to stop it when I do. At least they're making me look so much more professional my contrast.

Now, If you'll excuse me, I'm gonna crank up the Muppet Movie soundtrack, drink my juice box, and play some Nintendo while jumping on the bed in my feety pajamas...and where the hell is my wooby?!? I NEED MY WOOBY!