You might as well tie a dead raccoon around your neck

By the time most of you read this, I would have entered the second month of my third job. And boy does it feel good. This is going to make me sound like a broken down recorder but I like my job, team and office so damn much. I’m literally the baby of the team, with the second youngest merely 5 years older than me.

The place where I work is the best. Nah. Others think that but I don’t. Everyone thinks it’s an exclusive place to work. Sure, my office is on the 63^rd floor (if you fellas wanna know how high that is, just look up the sky, chances are you still won’t see my smiling face looking down at you an…people.) The Petronas Twin Towers, or more commonly known amongst Malaysians, Them Bloody Tall Tall Buildings, towers many other, um, tall buildings. It’s like Michael Jordan and a bloody hobbit standing side by side ‘cept that one slam dunks with his tongue wagging while the other doesn’t seem to wag tongues.

Guess what. I committed my first real and potentially catastrophic snafu! Thankfully, my boss came over to my station and explained to me the proper way of doing things. Midway through his explanation, he started to laugh, saying that maybe they should’ve provided additional information in order to complete the job. I nodded my head, trying my best not to laugh. I would have laughed for one simple reason:

I honestly don’t know much, but here I am, almost causing the entire system of a client to go bust! All I did was clean up the list of clients of ours and updated certain details. It goes to show that technology—while in so many ways is a blessing of sorts—can also be a curse. One minute everything is working dandy and gay but the next, it can prove to be the last thing you do. Furthermore, the big boss from UK was in a generous mood (odd, because the previous day he was practically livid with rage) and told my boss that maybe we should have given the (rather dim) fellow clearer instructions.

And this brings us nicely (oh dear lord, thank you) to the blog’s title. Having a lanyard wrapped around your neck like a really skinny python is one of the most annoying things any working person has to wear. It gets in the way, like for instance, when you want to pee. Since (most) men pee at the urinals, you have to juggle between your ahem and the dangling noose, assuming you’re not wearing a shirt with a pocket. It’s a symbol where a small percentage of the working community think that just by wearing it makes them superior. The thicker the lanyard, the more stuck up some people are.

What is it that makes people so proud to wear what is basically a string tied around one’s neck? It’s nothing but a form of advertisement. It’s like when a male peacock sees another male, he immediately becomes a competitor. The same goes with me. There’s another IT consulting firm, perched only 2 floors higher than my office. The minute I see one of their employees, I right away stand to attention and try to look as hoity as possible. I lose always since the competitors are usually more conceited and have better eyelashes than I do.

What else can I say? I think I’ll wear my lanyard. I look rather spiffy.

This is Chris, signing off.

PS: For some strange reason, I find dangling my lanyard at the side of my leg is pretty cool.