plus someone stole my goddamn lunch

And all of a sudden I'm in the blackest mood ever. End of the night, I let my plant operator know I'm going home. She's just gotten married, and it's to someone else who works there, so everyone is making fun of her last name changing / not changing, and how noone knows or whatever, or maybe she decided not to change it but everyone is calling her by her husband's last name as a joke, I don't know. Don't care. But I figured I'd get in on it and address her by both names, hyphenate-style. And she comes back over with the chilliest voice I've ever heard from her, as though I'd just run a rototiller over her Pontiac.

I've never heard her crack a joke, and she just refuses to get any of mine. I'm sort of a moron that way in that I'll often say things that are funny only to me, and truthfully I've just been burying my head in books in the lunchroom lately, so often a day will go by where I don't say a word to anyone except for my crew.

I tried not bringing reading materials to work so that I'd have to make an effort to engage in conversations over my breaks, but I found that I just stopped reading altogether, or I'd start poring over the Sun, so I don't do that anymore. If I'm going to read, I figure I may as well read something good.

So I'm not as firmly ensconced into the social coteries at work as I used to be. So much of it is just the ridiculous level of turnover where it's to the point that people would appear and disappear in a matter of a few weeks. There's a contingent of a half dozen or so who've been there a few years and who pretty much only hang out with each other outside of work, and I just think that sort of lifestyle is scary, so I avoid it, and by extension them. I'm antisocial - it's easy for me. Plus I don't care what anyone there thinks of me. I'm not looking to be unfriendly, I can keep up my part of the fuckarounding when necessary. I just don't feel the need to be the one to start it.

This is all by way of saying that it's entirely possible that there's some sort of subtext w/r/t the joking around about her name that I have never been in on, and my joking around about her name was maybe presumptuous.

But still. Was it necessary to use her I-could-just-stab-you voice?

The night had been a bit lax, kind of fun, a chance for our overworked feed stock inspectors to catch their breath and take it easy on their poor fucking feet. I'd heard towards the end of the night that there was some kind of huge mess that needed cleaning up; maybe she'd been counting on my crew to finish early enough to head down there and shovel. If so, I guess that would explain the attitude. Whatever. It wasn't their mess. And it wasn't mine.

Bitching about work. Gah. How dull. How completely without class. I haven't been able, lately, to think the kinds of thoughts I would like to think. Corrective action is necessary. Perhaps I need a grapefruit juice enema. Is that a thing?