“Corporate accounts payable, Nina speaking. Just a moment…”

“Corporate accounts payable, Nina speaking. Just a moment…”

“Corporate accounts payable, Nina speaking. Just a moment…”

Why do people continuously just never…

“Corporate accounts payable, Nina speaking. Just a moment…”

Shut the fuck up already, ok? I’m sick and tired of hearing your…

“Corporate accounts payable, Nina speaking. Just a moment…”

Fucking stop. I’m not listening… la la la la…

“Corporate accounts payable, Nina speaking. Just a moment…”

Wait, I’m sorry. Did you say something? I was distracted for a damn moment.

“Corporate accounts payable, Nina speaking. Just a moment…”

…

“Corporate accounts payable, Nina speaking. Just a moment…”

Fuck it. I’m trying to pose a proper rant here Nina. What the fuck do you want?

“Corporate accounts payable, Nina speaking. Just a moment…”

Why won’t you just shut up? I’m not paying attention anyway.

“Corporate accounts payable, Nina speaking. Just a moment…”

You say something about a leotard? I’m damn sure you said something about a leotard. There’s nothing else that would have snapped my senses back into reality you fat fuck. I swear that if you say that one more time, I’m cramming a stick of butter up your nose.

“Corporate accounts payable, Nina speaking. Just a moment…”

Oh for Pete’s sake already…

“Corporate accounts payable, Nina…” ::BANG::

Ok, where were we? I really hate it when people just don’t know when to shut the hell up. You’re standing there, eyes glazed over not much unlike a deer in headlights, maybe nodding, maybe not. I, for one, subscribe to the “look directly into the pupil of a single eye, unflinching” method. I’ve found that to somehow be a wonderful way to shut them up because it’s “creepy”.

Once the conversation has turned lopsided and can be considered a monologue, I’ve checked out. My body is there, well, most of the time. I have walked out of the room on someone yakking away without them noticing my absence before. My mind is usually long gone, not into some happy place where I’m thinking happy thoughts, but to the great void. I’m there, and my mind says, “fuck this, I’m going to float around in the abyss until it’s over”.

I guess it doesn’t help that for the longest time I thought I suffered from ADD (Attention Deficit Disorder), and couldn’t focus on such conversations. I later believed this to be a misdiagnosis, and ADOLAK (Attention Deficit, Oh Look, A Kitty) became a more fitting label. Only after the points where I’d quickly snap back into reality based on some keyword uttered, like a damn dog wanting a treat, did I realize it’s actually ADS (Attention Deficit SQUIRREL!).

It’s an endless cycle of talk, zone, snap, talk, zone, snap, rinse, lather, repeat. Why must people talk so damn much? When I snap back to reality looking for the treat, I’m immediately slapped with the jib-jab of yak-yak. Because they’re running red on high octane, they expect me to actually care what words fall from their lips? Those words stop feet in front of me, long before they grace the lobes of my ears. Do they think someone’s always listening? Do I look like I’m actually paying attention when I’ve got a cheerleader bent over the couch ribbed for my pleasure? NO! Just shut the fuck up already, ok? And don’t get me started on TPS reports either!