Who among us–after hours with nothing but productivity to occupy our time–hasn’t hung their head in frustration and whispered to the pitiless office gods “I’m bored, so very bored.” And who answers your desperate prayers; who notices how you long for something new: nobody. You alone can cure your boredom. So take your head out of your hands, and put your life there instead. Here are some things you can do to jazz up what will definitely be your last day at the office.
1. Bring Back Grunge
Obviously, the first step is fashion: recapture the aesthetic of early 90’s alternative rock to cast an angst-y pall over your workday. Drape yourself in old-looking flannels, frayed jeans, and battered shoes designed for battered skateboarding youths. You should look like a teenage lumberjack’s garage sale.
After you’ve mastered the visual element, it is time to change your attitude to match your filthy fight-the-power exterior. Devote an entire workday to watching YouTube videos of your local high school’s garage bands. Lose yourself in the off-key angst of teenagers who have it all figured out. Let their cracking voices mingle with their unpracticed instrumentals at volumes which challenge the idea that silence was ever even an option. Intermittently raise your fist to the white paneled ceiling above your desk while whispering the lyrics in harmony with the sweaty acne-pocked lead singer. Like an Amish terror group, truly believe from the tips of your greasy hair to the worn soles of your ripped canvas shoes that you need to fight the power.
On a Tuesday, bring your bass guitar and amp to the break room and pin a signup sheet for “try outs” to the door. Play the same riff from “Smells Like Teen Spirit” until someone knocks on the door. Play it louder until they come in. The second a frustrated face pokes passed the door, play every note you know while trying to sing like you’re underwater. Kick holes in the wall and try to communicate your angst to your impromptu audience using a combination of indecipherable lyrics, angry frowns, and erratic body movements. Your boss should appear momentarily, at which point you can bring them up on stage or crowd surf depending on the mood of the audience.
2. Steal Your Coworkers’ Family Photos and Paper-Mache Them Into One Super Family
They are the mute audience that watches your every sluggish move beneath the fluorescent sun. Their frozen smiles approve while their vacant eyes beg for release. Slink from your cubicle, your office, whatever work-turf you possess, and snatch every picture of a trapped family you can manage. Drag them back to your lair–if you have the means to leave a slimy discharge in your wake like a snail or that guy from The X-Files, then now is the time.
Do you have spit? Your mouth needs to be able to produce saliva for this to work so if it can’t, then find a mouth that can. In a bucket, combine your mouth’s discharge with equal parts glue and a can-do attitude then mix the confetti of eviscerated family portraits into your bucket to create a primordial ooze from which you will build a new, better family from the sacrifice of weaker bloodlines.
Like the Frankenstein of unholy arts & crafts, mold the untoward forms of your new super family. Use rulers, pencils, stray keyboards as the bones upon which you drape the sloppy flesh of your creation. When their bodies are complete, keep your golem family hidden until they have hardened. They are weakest before their skin settles, and you would not want your work halted so close to fruition. Leave them beneath a sunny window in a locked office. Stay behind the door with them; growl anytime someone turns the knob. In a day’s time your family should be ready, and your coworkers may be wondering where their pictures have gone. Call a professional photographer, charge it to the company account. Have a series of tasteful photos of you and your new family taken, then fill the empty frames on every desk with the new, better portraits of you and the amalgam of familial love you built. When your boss confronts you, hug the waist of your piecemeal wife and shriek profanity until the desired effect is achieved.
3. Make a Fort Out of Your Desk
This only works if you have a desk, so if you do not have one, then bring one from home. Most desk-forts are pitiable things erected for team-building activities or work-place sexy times. We aren’t operating at such a base level. Your fort is for conquest; it is the seat of your power, and the ancestral home of your children. Where other forts have blankets, you shall have a bulwark upon which your enemies’ wills shall break. Lesser forts have chairs to hold dainty computers for movie-watching; you will have ramparts from which you will rain pencil-fire upon the hapless bodies of your coworkers. In short, your fort’s going to be rad.
Your first step is to gather building materials. With an electric saw or the re-purposed blade of a paper cutter, remove three 10 by 5 foot rectangles of drywall from whichever section of your building you visit most infrequently. These will be your walls. Using the military grade glue you should already have in your desk, affix your walls to the floor so no one may cross your borders. If you have a cubicle, then annex your neighbors and knock down the walls that once separated you. Now it’s time to build your gate, the doorway from which you will ride forth and conquer the office. Face your desk out so the legs are pointing away from the interior of your fort; these you will sharpen using a grinder that should also have been in one of the desk drawers. Next, fasten hooks to the ceiling directly above the desk. Then, attach 2 ropes to the either side of the top of your desk-gate, loop them through the ceiling-hooks, then given them to the children or small dogs you have re-purposed to be gate-drones. Upon your command, the children (or dogs) should pull the ropes, raising your glorious gateway.
When your coworkers investigate your impressive feat of engineering, hurl any nearby heavy office supplies while wailing war-cries. Your projectiles will be most effective if you coat them in tar and set them on fire. When your boss arrives, hurl a sharpened yard stick at him with a note attached. While your boss reads your near-indecipherable scrawl of “no bosses allowed,” throw a stapler head-ward and pray for a long siege.