So about two weeks ago, I won Employee of the Month. I assume that any of you who read my humble additions to the ‘note will be laughing about as hard as I am right now. Truly, it is a victory for the deviants worldwide. As many of you may have realized, while I am far from subversive, I am at the very least a rebel. I work hard to get things done, but mostly my goal is to get it all finished so I can goof off, write submissions, do surveys and check ICanHasCheezburger.com. All in all, a full day’s “work” in and of itself. But I digress.

The point is, to me Employee of the Month is usually either “Suck Up of the Month” or “Rule Follower of the Month”. I, myself, am neither. However, I am first and foremost to you, my readers, a reporter. It is my job to pass on to you the daily goings on in the workplace like some sort of real life, female Dilbert who has actual hair instead of shaped skin. (Or so you assume, ha!) Therefore, I present to you in the truest fashion, the goings on that are tied in with being Employee of the Month.

Step One: It is announced. As it happened, my victory was declared in our Division Staff Meeting while I was stuffing my face with a breakfast taco. [Side Note: This is Vermont; we do not have breakfast tacos. There is, however, this lovely person in our cafeteria to whom I’d like to compose sonnets because she’s an amazing chef who makes me homemade brekkies full of love. She makes me breakfast tacos out of wraps instead of tortillas. End Note] I was truly shocked, and amidst compliments and balloons and all sorts of nonsense, I managed to declare aloud that they had lowered their standards. I was then told that I got to choose between a check [oh yeah] or paid time off. [Uh, did I mention that one option is a check?] Choosing was, to say the least, not difficult.

Step Two: I have to have my picture taken for these little posters that they put up on the bulletin boards on every floor, even the dungeon. [Side Note: I have been told that it is not a dungeon because residents of the northerly states call these “basements.” Apparently they are not dungeons, portals to hell or underground lairs. Although I argue that our cafeteria is in the “basement” and all good underground lairs have cafeterias. Either way, being that this is an online periodical of limited length and space, that’s a discussion for another day. End Note] To take this picture, I received an appointment via my oh-so-corporate Outlook Account. The appointment was for the “Distinguished Employee of the Month Picture.” [Side Note: Ha ha, “distinguished.” End Note] This appointment was set for the “Basement Storage Room/Picture Room.” Does that sound suspicious to anyone? And they tell me it’s not a dungeon… anyways… So I took the picture in the torture chamber/”basement storage room,” insisting that my sunglasses must stay firmly atop my head because it’s part of my image, and then I was informed that I had to have a professional picture done and that I wouldn’t be able to wear them then! WTF, mate?! Apparently it’s for the front lobby, and at the end of the year all those people whose pictures are up there are in the running for Distinguished Employee of the Year. [Side Note: That means a BIGGER check. End Note] Unfortunately this picture had to occur right in the midst of my vacay last week. Boo.

Step Three: The professional picture. I showed up at the studio in a lovely, professional yet subtly leopard printed shirt, my corduroys, and my sneakers. [Side Note: Hey, it’s a head shot! Why the hell do I have to be dressed up on vacation?! End Note] The girl taking the picture was entirely too bubbly, and she told me to sit on a stool, lean forward, push my elbows out, bring my hands in, turn left, and then tilt my head right and look straight forward. If any of you are physically trying to follow along at home, you will realize that I pretty much had to do the robot. Then she basically told me to give a wide smile with teeth showing and look straight at the camera. For ninjas, this technique in martial arts would be called “The Pomeranian.” I then had to do this same thing facing the other direction. This is otherwise known as the “Reverse Robot to Pomeranian Maneuver.” The whole thing took about five seconds and after changing back into my “Blarney’s Gym” t-shirt and popping my ever famous sunglasses back atop my head, I was on my way!

So there you have the basic events, aside from the congratulations and people I don’t know saying that I deserved it and having to see my reddy red red Oirish/Scottish cheeks staring back at me from all the bulletin boards. I have yet to see the “professional” picture or the check, but I am assured those will be forthcoming. Then my reddy red red Oirish/Scottish cheeks can stare out at everyone who enters the building. And remember, vote for me for Distinguished Employee of the Year. I’ll be sitting at my desk looking at lolcats if you want to congratulate me. Kthxbai.