It's the little things.

I'm back. Many apologies...I didn't realize how long I'd been gone! In my head, it's only been a day or two at most. I guess that's what happens when you have a job with real work to do and real deadlines to meet...(I've been busy practicing for a real job.)

Follow-up to the giganto celebration from last Tuesday. --

On Monday afternoon before the ceremony, while all of us are frantically running about, Ginsu calls Princess in a snit. Since she normally does communications and publications, etc., she wants to know why she wasn't informed about the goings-on behind the ceremony.

Fast forward to Tuesday:

The winner of the ceremony recieves a plaque. A big one with lots of signatures and embossing and other such trappings. Well, after said ceremony, monster plaque goes missing. Princess calls everyone frantically searching for the plaque. (and I do mean everybody.) After much distress, Ginsu calls Princess with another barrage of questions, and casually mentions that she "found" a plaque at the ceremony. Found? Yes, found. Onstage, next to the High Goddess's podium. Queen Bee decided that Ginsu was out of line and went after her in high fashion. When I find out the end of the saga, so will you.


In other news, I "attended" a meeting yesterday (hence that particular bout of silence). In other words I was the title-less executive secretary. I took 13 pages of notes for minutes. The meeting was an hour and a half long, and lo and behold they made a decision. That's it. One. Singular. Guess what they decided? To send the motion in question to executive session. Whoa. I guess that's what muckety-mucks do when they all get together and talk about how important they are. Grr. You pay for this! Every one of you!

Sorry it's been so long!

It's been a while. Sorry, but I've been *gasp* busy. Work, school, church, you name it. Let's see if I can de-rust this past week in ye ole noggin and get y'all up to date.

The huge ceremony that I was helping plan and publish went off without a hitch. Except for QB's antics...imagine that... Let me give you some background:

Sir Knight was the emcee for the event. He has a monitor in front of him so he can tell when to announce the next person (he's backstage). The "backstage" area is actually a small platform about 5 feet wide that ends at 5'1" with a 4 foot deep dropoff into oblivion. The platform is fronted with a red backdrop curtain for the stage. Sir Knight is standing at a podium perpendicular to the curtain, making the walking path (a) very small and (b) very precarious. Especially for those who are wider than they are tall.

After Sir Knight decides not to move the podium (there are many logistical reasons why it could/should not be moved even a little bit), QB perches herself at the corner of the podium, effectively eliminating any hope of people not tumbling to their demise just as their name is called to go onstage. Refusing to budge from her perch, QB decides that the best course of action to get these people onstage is a three-step process. Remember, she is about three inches from the opening in the curtain (which is a true permanent opening)...

Step 1: Grab the winner's upper arm with her bony claw so to propel them past her perch.
Step 2: Holler at them to "Walk fast. Walk fast." Every one of them...because the people standing behind the graspee could not hear her this time. Of course they needed this direction. They were to walk three steps forward to get awarded.
Step 3: Re-enact a pinball machine by cocking back the arm and letting loose with a shove to end all to get the person to the stage. (Effecitvely eliminating any reason for Step 2.)

These three steps resulted in many pissed-off winners (they already aren't fond of the department...go figure. Neither am I and I work here!), and the video tape shows QB catapulting each person onto the stage. Goody, here comes the press.

So after said glorious event, the Head Goddess decides to have a debriefing of all key staff. Princess, QB, and various others are in attendance. She congratulates QB on such a great event (better organized than ever before--no, really?!?), and what does QB do? Three guesses. She says, "Why thank you! I worked very hard." Sorry, but I think I'm going to call bullshit on that one. She didn't even know what was happening until Monday at 4:15 p.m. Very hard my hindquarters.



And to top it all off, LIW is back to her unexplainable self.
Oh, and did I mention the new hire? QB hired an assistant. I can't even think of a nickname that is better than her real name. I think I'll call her Foo-Foo for now. You can figure it out.

*Sigh* ... but alas, the Prozac was not to last

Let me start this humble rant with a nod to those remembering loved ones today. Our hearts and prayers are with you.

Now, on to the pro-drug campaign. Whoever took the Prozac from my office, please return it for the sake of my sanity.

This morning started out so well. I should have known that it was too good to be true. I got here before LIW (always a good sign that she will call in sick), but she decided to show up--about 30 minutes late. Pretty good for her, acutally. At least she came and all. After she got here, things went south rather quickly.

Ladies Man and the other scullery in the office had a big shindig today for one of their underlings (not of the agency) and LIW threw fits that he was getting awarded since he wasn't a real teacher. He had gone through a special process and after 25 years, been awarded this award (that has nothing to do with how he became a teacher), and she tells me that he isn't qualified. She's just jealous that she wanted to be a teacher, got her education degree, got certified, and no one would hire her. Instead, she became head g-slug at Agency X.

After I told her that she was crazy for hating on the program (and on the poor guy who was ecstatic that he won--for good reason, I may add) she decided that I was pond scum, went into her office and pouted for a few hours.

When she decided to quit pouting, she caught me on Princess's phone. And went ape-shit because I was answering her phone. Good Lord in heaven, it was a 2 minute phone call. I'm pretty sure I can handle it. Cripes.

And Minnie heard LIW telling me all this and complaining that Minnie wasn't answering her own phone. She was busy, I wasn't, I answered the phone. Get yourself over it. Sheesh.

Argh. Gotta go make notecards for an exam. More details to come...

...oh and don't forget to check back for the Love Triangle de Fire Mountain...

Of mice and men

Some people have crickets, or bugs in general...we have mice. They scurry around for a while, hop into a trash can, and hide out, so people like Azzie can bring them by my desk just to hear me squeal. Good times.

In other news, LIW is at it again. I write a power point for a videoconference, she spends all afternoon doing the same. I talk to her as I am leaving to make sure she followed the guidelines and that I could pull hers into mine, and she says, "Guidelines?" *Unh.*

I will get back to writing all the ridiculous things on my blog as soon as I uncover the rest of my keyboard. My desk is piled high, but next week should see some daylight!

It's a small, small world

...so I went to lunch today with a former employer...and found out that Azzie's brother was the guy that worked with me when I was working for said employer. That was why Azzie looked so familiar to me. Freaky.

Slugs 'N Drugs

This week in the office has been a scene from a sci-fi movie. Azzie has been nice, even to the point of talking to me (as in whole conversations) and dropping into the office and chatting; LIW took me to lunch and chatted the whole time; Queen Bee has been fawning over me...and the list goes on.

Makes me concerned for my sanity. I swear the whole agency is on Prozac. No one is sullen or angry. It's like I woke up this week in an alien planet, but someone forgot to tell me so I could put on my glittery antennae headband. Maybe next week will be back to normal.

Maybe I should just sport the headband and hope...

Grumble.

To borrow a quote from 'Dog: "When my legions of flying monkeys complete my quest for World Domination, there's going to be a whole hell of a lot of changes around here."

I work with two grants. The more straightforward of the two has a passing decent checking system. The general system of payment is the grantee gives me the expense report, I double check the numbers and make sure that all expenses are properly documented, then forward it to the endless well o' funds.

I get a phone call today from the keeper of the well to let me know that one grantee hasn't been paid for seven months in 2005. After I pick up my jaw from my desk, I call said grantee and ask if they're missing money. Of course, they don't know since there have been staffing changes since 2005, but still. A missing $40K would put a damper on my year, believe you me. I get to nosing around to find the invoices, and lo and behold, LIW has four of them, but is missing the second quarter. Go figure. She roots through her office and comes up empty-handed. Big shocker, I know.

Seriously, folks. How can a non-profit organization that proclaims to be barely squeaking by (which if this is the norm, I can see it) not notice a pilfered $40K from a year and a half ago? Not exactly a trifling amount, that.


In other news...

LIW has a meeting tomorrow in a town about two hours from home. She doesn't want to have to wake up early, so she decided that she was going to go tonight and spend the night. Fine. Then she told Sir Knight and I that she was leaving at noon today to get ready to leave tonight. *blink blink*

Of course it's logical. It's the government, isn't it?

Nothing to do?!?

So I'm just getting around to publishing this little rant, but it's been floating around in my brain for a few days, I just haven't had time to get it onto the computer. With that in mind, I'll hike up my mini skirt, flip off my polka-dotted slides, and hop onto ye ole soapbox.

Let's look at Thursday a little closer: Meetings, photoshopping logos, busy, busy, busy. Desk piled so high another page would (and did) cause the whole pile to cascade onto my floor. Wahoo. Enter LIW. (Come on! Who else were you expecting?!)

She comes in to find my nose about a half inch from my computer monitor (where it had been for the past six hours) while I was working on logos for Princess's program, which is quickly approaching and also for which the agency is somewhat, um, unprepared.

She looks at my computer, me, and Mt. Scullery, walks past into her office and hides for the rest of the day.

Welcome to Friday.

Sir Knight comes into the office, he and I have our morning discussion, then go our separate ways. I continue to whittle down Mt. Scullery, and by around 2:30 it officially becomes merely a hill. Sir Knight have a meeting about what to do with the seven, yes seven, conferences we have coming up in the next six weeks. Much to do, little time. I have most details planned, but there are letters to write and stuff, hotel stuff to figure out, among other stuff--last minute type details that even the most unobservent person would catch on to. Or not.

No one has seen LIW all day long, so Sir Knight strolls into her office after our rendesvous to find her working crossword puzzles on her computer. He asks what she's doing and she responds that she's solving a puzzle. (There were few solutions written in, but that's a whole other soapbox issue.) Upon inquiries as to exactly why she is solving a puzzle, she says...

"I have nothing else to do."

Do mine eyes decieve me?!? She has a molehill of paperwork on her desk awaiting processing and I have Mt. Scullery on mine. Nothing else to do? Is she BLIND??? Grr.

Well, I'm afraid I answered honestly.

Now that I have a moment to breathe, I will write for a minute, then run again...

I had to take a Meyers Briggs personality test for a human relations class, and I'm afraid I was honest on it. Everyone in the office said it fit me to a tee...judge for yourself.

"Creating order out of chaos" is one extraverted thinker's way of describing her volition. Determined, logical, critical, they love a challenge, especially one that will allow tangible improvement in productivity, efficiency or profitability. They are direct, finding the quickest, most direct path between what is and what should be.

They excel at implementing ideas and are often on the lookout for good ideas worthy of their attention. They are quick to organize, orchestrate, find resources, coordinate, and follow through to the end of a project. They love a problem, especially one that will make full use of their competencies, their logic and sense of order, justice and fair play.

Many find competition to be stimulating and fun. "These are the rules of the game now let us play." Fairness is sharing and respecting the same set of rules, so may the best one win. And since they readily acknowledge that there will be a winner and a loser, they would simply much rather be the winner. So they hone their strategies on the fine knife of experience and sharpen their skills to meet the next challenge head on.

They love having greater challenges bestowed on them as a result of having successfully met the last, as this attests to their competence and skills. They appear dispassionate because of their impersonal and objective approach, but close observation will reveal deep passion and enthusiasm as well as sensitivity, especially to cherished ones. However they expect others to roll up their sleeves as they do and meet the task in spite of personal hardships or discomfort.

They have little tolerance for personal whims that threaten a smooth running operation. They are direct and honest with most things that displease them and expect others to do the same. Their humanity shows in their sense of fairness and justice as well as their love of humour.


Pretty much hits the nail on the head, wouldn't you say?

The Pantsalanche

Well, today needs to go in the history books. Nothing bad has happened at the office, and I got a publication approved ON THE FIRST TRY!!! (Seriously, folks, usually it takes a week for letters and several weeks for printed stuff.)

So to note this historic moment in time, I will regale you with a story that happened a few years ago...the Pantsalanche.

Four or five years ago, I drove up to the student union of my esteemed alma mater on the afternoon of a lazy, drizzly Sunday. Campus, for once, was quiet, and as I parked my car (in one of many open spaces amazingly enough) I noticed a man standing next to the door I was slated to enter.

As this is not the main entrance to the union, it wasn't a popular hangout, but this guy didn't come across as the type of person who'd hang out where it was popular anyway. He was about 6'2", 300 pounds, and garbed in a damp white t-shirt and red sweatpants with his ear hermetically sealed to the speaker of his cell phone.

As I half-run to the sidewalk to avoid getting my papers wet, I try not to really look at him, but he seems to be the car-wreck type of guy. As I'm busy not falling on my ass and not staring at him, his pants just fell off. In a split second this guy goes from totally decent to not wearing ANYTHING on his bottom half. And I got an eyeful of Mr. Happy.

The poor guy got flustered, turned around to pick up his pants from around his ankles, (mooning me in the process), and at that particular moment, his cell phone unseals itself, and jumps down his pants leg.

I stare at the poor guy trying my damnedest not to laugh as he's naked from the waist down, fishing in his drawers for his cell phone and trying to talk to the person on the other end of the phone. What do you say to someone when they're in your pants and you're not?

I bravely pass by and go up the stairs, enter the building and promptly fall on the floor and laugh until I cry. Of course I call everyone I know with the story, but my real question is this:

What kind of phone conversation was he having that he neglected to notice the alliance of pants and body parts had been severed?

Hell froze over.

Let's go back to yesterday...nothing, nothing, nothing...ah, yes. THE PHONE CALL.

Ze Chief o' Staff himself calls me to ask if I'd like the *ahem* honor of being QB's assistant. Told him I'd think about it. (ha!)

After 15 minutes of intense introspection, I realized that, as a matter of fact, my first instinct was right on the money. Run like hell in the other direction!

So this morning I called Herr CoS back to let him know that I was planning to respectfully decline the promotion due to several reasons...
1. The pay sucks. Though almost no amount of money would be worth me having to spend every waking moment in her presence, I could sell tickets to the ringside seats and make a tidy little profit on the catfights.

2. Sir Knight would be left in the cold since LIW is often nowhere to be found. After this long of writing, I think this should be completely obvious.

3. QB is bitchy.

4. Who needs 4 with the first three?!?

He saw my point of view and decided that considering the circumstances, we'd kill each other or she'd fire me asap. Glad he saw it my way. Life is hard, but it just may be getting better :-)

So, second floor, you're stuck with me. For another while at least.

Evening thoughts

I have come to realize exactly what makes a gummit slug. As in creation, not activity. People with half a brain, like me, decide to get a job and see that the slug-masters pay well enough to keep their minions in rent and food, but not well enough to give them, say, will to work. It's depressing knowing that in an agency of hundreds, I'm probably in the less-than-1% of people who are dissatisfied with my job (Really! Didn't you guess in the last few months? Slowpoke.) due to LACK of stress...or *intelligent* activity. I can literally feel my brain liquifying in my skull.

I'm too young for this. Three more semesters...that's my battle cry, yessirree. See me come, and watch me go. If I have to put in another day of looking busy and shuffling papers to keep QB happy, I'm going to go insane (Dave, shut it.). Give me something SUBSTANTIAL to do...maybe even something that would make a difference. I don't do busy work; I need a reason to mentally check in each morning.

Hmm. Maybe that explains the I-didn't-hear-the-alarm phenomenon of late...

Doldrums

Ugh. Had a bad weekend...left the man behind for good...

Now, I don't even have a thing to do at work. The data people are setting up our conference room for people to take it over for the next year (I'm sure they're quite nice, but we're overflowing!!!), and I'm the only one here. Not even anyone here to keep my mind from turning to mush. Sir Knight is reading grants for other programs in their offices, and LIW decided that it was too much effort to arise from bed this morning...and afternoon. The other scullery and Ladies' Man are both outta here too, and Princess and Minnie are separated from me by the data droids. Life stinks.

No, a lack of stupidity does NOT equal intelligence.

An unprecedented thing happened this week in my office.

Nothing.

That's right. No show of the unerring heredity of the cohorts, less than usual scathing commentary, and the like.

I think the week of August 7-11, 2006 should go into the record books as the eighth wonder of the world.

I wonder if Satan turns blue?

Ugh. It's Monday...

Well, it looks like this week is going to start off with a bang. QB just came in to inform me that I was to transfer Princess's phones down to her office since Princess was out of the office all week and QB is handling Minnie's training. God help everyone.

I told her that I had transferred Princess's phones to me since that is what I've done for the last six months, and with a shocked look on her face, QB sneered, "And do you answer the questions?" I said yes, and she put a hand over her chest to still her beating heart, "Well, do you know the answers?"

Of course, you monkey. After answering the same battery of questions 1000 times I think that I'm past the faking it stage. Fine. I'll transfer the phones to you, but don't come crying to me when you have to answer grant questions and the files are sitting on my desk. I'll hide them from you.

Let's add another one to the pantheon...

So they've hired a new person. She's the level above me in Princess's section. They had many highly-qualified people apply for the position, but they hired Minnie Mouse. She sounds like she's been sucking helium even though she seems to be quite nice.

A list of Minnie's qualifications for the position she was hired for:
(1) ______________

But she got hired because she is QB's sorority sister and they graduated from the same university. Of course.

LIW strikes again

How many jobs do you know of in which the employee can, um, just leave? ...and be welcome to return to work the next day?

After a couple days' sabbatical from LIW's incessant humming, I got adjusted to the calmness of the office, but nay. It was not to last.

LIW called me this morning to let me know that she had things she had to take care of. OK. And that she wouldn't be in until around 10:30 or 11. Houston, we have a problem. Problem #1: She has no leave time. Problem #2: We have (imagine this) a huge mailout that has to go in the mail today.

Around 11, LIW strolls in, says nothing to anyone in the office, goes in her office and proceeds to...well I can't really figure out what she did since nothing exited her office.

Sir Knight tries to roust her from her computer, and to his surprise, she was at her desk, scribbling away on a pad of paper. Sir Knight thought it looked conspicuously like a resignation letter, as she hid it quite effectively when he came into viewing distance.

Around 11:30, the rest of us decided to go out to eat, and we tried to be charitable by asking if she'd like to go along. We were going to her fave place, but even Sir Knight couldn't get her roots out of the carpet.

We get back around 1:00 to find her conspicuously absent. The lights in her office are off, and a report that we did last week was in Sir Knight's chair, ruthlessly edited (but alas, she was on vacation, so it has already been submitted), accompanied by a note.

"I managed to get a doctor's appointment at 1:30, so I won't be in for the rest of the day."

Ahem. Let's take this a step at a time.

Step 1: "I managed" --as if she had to put in supreme effort and is quite ecstatic that said appointment will occur.

Step 2: "1:30---rest of day" --an impromptu appointment that takes three hours? Amazing.

To top it all off, we get a call from HR well after she's gone for the day asking about last month's hours. Apparently, she's trying to get donated leave because her surgery from last month was connected to her cancer in 1995.

Let's step back a moment and look critically at the situation:

The great hernia operation of Twenty Aught Six is TIED TO and CAUSED BY the great breast cancer bout of 1995.

Because everyone knows about those great hernias that pop up from time to time in your right breast.

Good and bad days...

Yesterday rocked. Last night, not so much.

I got lots of good news on my assorted handbell ventures, then I got rear-ended after eating Trashy Thai. Grr.

and I swear that THIS DAY WILL NEVER END. Seriously, folks...who took the battery out of my clock?!? It seems like I've been at work for a year. And I even missed half a day due to said car wreck. Meh.

The shit hath hitteth the fan.

Well, apparently I was functioning as the section switchboard, and it wasn't my overactive imagination. I took just under 400 calls between 8 am and noon before my boss started yelling...and yelling...and the phone kept ringing...and ringing...and ringing.

...after 200 more calls after noon, the boss went apeshit, and decided after much gnashing of the teeth to confront said slug (think of him as the Azikiwe of the agency) . Sir Knight chewed on his hindquarters for a bit, then decided that you can't talk to something with the IQ of a carrot and brought himself back into our office.

This gnawing of the ass and gnashing of the teeth could have been completely avoided, but there are those people in the world who have an answer for everything. Azzie is one such person. Apparently, Sir Knight went into Azzie's office to ask him why we were playing answering service for him, to which Azzie responded (while sitting at his desk phone ironically enough), "Because I transferred 'em to ya." Gee, you think?!? Any monkey knows that answer!

After Sir Knight got done with him, apparently QB got ahold of him, and Azzie got his butt gnawed on-hard. Apparently by a pissed off Queen Bee. Hmm. BZZZ! (At least that's what Ladies' Man reported after a visit to the litter box and running into said carrot...)

...and I no longer am answering the phones, but I think Azzie's bodyguards may be meeting me in the parking lot since some Azzie hiney is still stuck to QB's stinger. BZZZ!

Whee-haw! I am NOT alone!

So, we did it!!! Sir Knight and I finished all the grant paperwork 3 days before the deadline. LIW, eat your heart out.

Then Sir Knight did a happy dance because "And hot damn, we did it without her!" I'm not alone in my frustration!