That dreaded table. . .

So, some time ago our company decided to "give a little something to the employees" and purchased a pool table, foosball table and a ping pong table. They were hoping that it would distract us from the hopeless monotony of our jobs - aka "We are getting the tables as a way for you to take a break and release stress." Like I said, hopeless monotony.

Anyway, the tables have become a little bit of an anger point for several of us. . . i.e. (loving the acronyms today) the ones of us that have been here working until after 6:30 more than once this week. Release stress, yes, good idea. Train for the Olympic ping pong team, not so good. There are people that are spending over an hour out there on a daily basis and it's starting to really tick me off. So much so that I may hide the paddles, sticks and ping pong balls that are necessary to play these games.

Case and point: I walked through the shop today at 9:30 (for all of you readers out there, that is 1 hour after we technically open our doors (like anyone is here at that time) but 2 1/2 hours after I arrived this morning, again, catching up on work) and I heard a familiar sound of a plastic ball making contact with a table, a paddle, a table, a paddle. . . I almost raged! You have been here for no more than an hour and you already need a break? Are you kidding me? It took me longer to drive to work this morning than you have been here and already need a ping pong break. If you're that dedicated, maybe you should quit your job and join a league? I've included a flier in case you are interested. SOOO over it!