Going Postal...San Post Office

Someone once told me that more than half of working Americans quit not because they hate their jobs, but because they hate their coworkers. I finally understand that statement.

Now, it's not that my job is so great. It's not. In fact it's as far off from any job that I would consider giving my life meaning, my soul fulfillment and dreams flight. I'm the manager of corporate service for a magazine subscription agency for crying out loud. But as jobs go, and as the jobs I have held go, this job isn't so bad. My boss is decent, I get to take off when I need, and I have a nice sized amount of responsibility. For a long time, I didn't go to bed at night and worry about having to wake up and go back to my job.

But how things can change. All it takes is two co-workers to make your life is living hell. The first is our head sales rep. He blames his stupidity on dyslexia. I blame it on his lack of wits. Now while I can't handle stupid people, he wouldn't be so bad if he weren't a congenital back-stabbing liar who feels the need to exert a control that he just doesn't have. The second is the ultra-liberal, conspiracy theory believing, alien abductee. He talks to me from the moment I walk into the office till the moment he leaves. He doesn't talk about anything interesting, just the constant yammer of the narrow-minded and uneducated.

Between the two of them, I cry a little bit on the inside every time I wake up. Anyone know how to make someone permanently mute? Or voodoo perhaps...?