This morning my fellow receptionist (who is very sarcastic and kind of mean sometimes but not to me) and I had to deal with two anti mask dingbats and we started to get really snarky and cranky and I hate being grumpy at work so I told her it was too early in the day and we couldn’t be angry until after lunch. “Angry hours start at two,” I said.
She laughed and we kept giggling about it until after lunch.
At two I said, “Okay, it’s angry hours until four.”
She laughed at that too and for two hours we made quiet grumpy noises and fussed at inanimate objects and kept reminding each other that it was angry hours, so we were being perfectly reasonable.
At four she says, “Well. That’s the end of that until tomorrow.”
“What are angry hours on Thursdays?” I asked.
“They’re later, because we’re working later. Thursday angry hours are four to six.”
“Makes perfect sense,” I agreed.
About twenty minutes later I was fussing with my finicky scanner and she said, “Hey, you can’t be mad now, it’s not angry hours.”
“Darn,” I said. “You’re right.”
I hope Angry Hours becomes a regular thing.