Today was an incredibly exhausting, exasperating day. It probably didn’t help that I had only gotten two hours of sleep last night, both of which occurred while I was sitting upright at the kitchen table, under the pretense of studying for an exam that was rescheduled for 8:00 this morning. Well, I guess I put my head down at one point; Paul mentioned seeing me asleep on my textbook at around 4 am when he got up to use the bathroom.

Naturally, by the time I finished my exam and finally dragged myself into work at 9:52am, I was stressed and sleepy, and in no mood to write the weekly report I had sworn would be in my boss’ inbox by 10:00am. By an act of God, I was able to throw something decent together and click send by 10:13am, which was roughly one minute before I stopped working for the remainder of the morning.

Therefore it was an unpleasant surprise when my boss appeared at my desk, especially because I had just moments before discovered that I could instant message my coworkers with emoticons of sheep. Said sheep were highly visible on my computer screen when he popped into my cubicle to tell me that needed me in his office. (Was the telephone broken? Or our email? Or the instant messenger system? Did he really have to walk all the way to my cubicle to tell me to come to his office?)

As we walked back towards his office together, I took the opportunity to recover from the sheep incident by impressing him with my proactive attitude. The moment he would begin a sentence, I would immediately interrupt him to convey the very thought he himself had been trying to express, thus taking full credit for the brilliant thought.

For example, he’d begin, “I think we should call-“

“I was going to call Bob Smith right after our meeting,” I would interject enthusiastically, sensing where he was going. “I figured it would be a good move to introduce myself, let him know that I had been told that he was an excellent resource, and hopefully get the information we need out of him through a less confrontational route. I want to build a positive relationship to ensure that we don’t lose the contract.”

Each time this scenario occurred, the boss would smile and tell me that I was right on top of things, and that my solutions were exactly what he would have suggested. Right. Naturally. Because after only three days of training and no prior experience, I’m suddenly a genius. It pleases me greatly that my ineptitude has, thus far, gone largely unnoticed.

The day progressed quickly and easily, and before I knew it, it was 5:00pm. Everybody left the office en masse, except my non-salaried self, and the New Guy. It was at that point when things suddenly took a turn for the worse.

The New Guy started just this past week, and I am absolutely certain that if our office were an episode of Survivor, we would already unanimously agree to vote him off first, even before we voted off the guy with the highly-contagious, flesh-eating virus. New Guy is nice and completely well-intentioned, but he suffers from a terrible combination of being unable to shut up and being unable able to read social signals that clearly shout GO AWAY AND DIE – JUST STOP TALKING TO ME, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD.

Within ten minutes of the last person leaving the building, New Guy came to my cubicle and took up residence in the doorway, where he stayed firmly planted for upwards of an hour. During the entire time, I was facing my computer with my back towards him, murmuring, “Uh-huh, yeah, uh-huh,” as he talked and talked and talked. I got up multiple times to use the copier and the printer, and also took two phone calls, but regardless of what I was doing, he DID NOT LEAVE. I became certain that if I sneaked out of the building and went home, he would still be waiting at my desk when I returned on Monday morning.

Moments before I lost my mind entirely, my boss came by to say goodbye, at which point he too was ensnared in New Guy’s lethal web of conversation. Twenty minutes later, after New Guy had talked a blue streak and unctuously requested my boss’ business card (you work in the same building – for what purpose could you possibly need his business card?), I finally shepherded them both out of the building in hopes of escaping to my car.

But no. New Guy was not done yet.

“Umm, I carpool with my girlfriend and she is still at work, so could you possibly give me a ride to the place that everyone went for happy hour?”

I wanted to kill him. I wanted to kill myself. Anything, ANYTHING to prevent me from having to allow this person in my vehicle. I would have gladly stabbed him, run him over, strangled him – but NOT GIVEN HIM A RIDE.

“Sure!” I squeaked maniacally. “No problem at all.” He got in my car and talked through the entire five minute ride, which was actually fine because I would have screamed if forced to unclench my jaw. I almost felt sorry for releasing him on my coworkers at happy hour, but when I realized the alternative was entertaining him myself, I practically pushed him out of my car and threw money at him.

Consider yourself warned; if you cross me, I will give him your phone number and tell him you’re lonely.