My, how time flies...

Greetings and salutations, my revered friends...I'm betting that you don't feel revered, but instead more neglected than anything. Well, not to fear, I is here.

I was looking through the blogs o' ages past, and realized that I have let many things slide. Of course, there are those things in my life that are constant. LIW will always be a lazy PITA. Minnie will always be arrogant, shy, and whiney. These things go without saying. However, there are those things that have changed.

1. The data droids. They're not droids. They're acutally the only saving grace in my job. I think Ladies' Man has his work cut out for him to keep a harem in excess of that by Head Droid and Mini Droid. Really. I've never seen so many mothers and grannies try to foist off their offspring and grand-offspring upon data people in my life. It's really disturbing. I love them though, and stories of our escapades abound in my daily life. Most are not reprintable, but hysterical nonetheless.

2. Azzie has been completely nice to me. For months. As in, he comes behind my desk to give me amusing links to websites. And e-mail forwards. I still think he's an alien, but that's a whole other post. In other Azzie news, they have hired another guy in their office, and I haven't had to answer the phone for his section in months. Life is GREAT.

3. SM2's daughter has come to work for blessed agency. Who would ever let their offspring *work* in this agency is beyond me, but she seems to be ok with it, so who am I to interfere? BUT...now she's always preoccupied with the daughter, who smokes, and as the mother of such, she takes smoke breaks. All the time. It's lonely. (But I did get her to cut early with me yesterday!!! There is still hope!)

4. Sir Knight's son and daugher got married (not to each other!), and he's been completely mellow since the weddings. Daughter is pregnant, and Sir Knight thinks the baby will refer to him by his given name. Of course. The baby will be calling him Gramps, so I'm sure that when the time comes, hell will break loose.

5. LIW still hums. Off key and incessent as usual. She still leaves for no apparent reason, but at least most days she shows up! I think we finally got the fear of God in her, as her leave was exhausted and she was routinely getting calls from HR...I doubt it will last, but it's nice while it's happening.

The fam's here for Christmahaunakwanzakah...better go tip a feather. Ciao.

Merry Christmas, everyone!

If you haven't seen this yet, it's great.

Turn up your speakers, and enjoy!

Hrm.

So apparently I have resigned my post as Centennial Chairperson. I just got a group email from one of my (rather rude) volunteers stating that the City Manager has offered the position to her. Hrm. I don't mind her running the show at ALL. I actually had given thought to resigning, but the least they could have done was to tell me about it! Good grief. The City Manager came to our last gig and told me how great he thought it was. I said thanks, and that I'd get with him after the first of the year. Ah well, I guess now that 2007 is upon them they decide that they really do need to get on the ball...as if I hadn't told him this many times already...

SNOW!

So there is a God. And he decided I needed a reprieve. I've been falling more and more behind, and this blessed snow is like God looking down on me saying, "Yes, I know you don't have time to do everything you have to do before Monday, so I am going to make your workplace close for two days. Use them wisely."

Thank you, God. I have.

Back from Sabbatical..sorta

So I'm back from my real life due to popular demand. Let's see...going back, going back...

Hmm...

I had to write an official paper about my place of work. About organizational behavior and human relations problems. It was a breeze. :-)

One of my classes for the semester has finished as of 10 pm yesterday, so I may have more time to dedicate to my devotees.

There hasn't been a lot new going on at work-I've been working on things for my concert, things for Sir Knight's church program, and things for school. ...business as usual.

I'm playing a concert on Decmeber 14. All Christmas. Free. Come see me!

I'll be back after some caffeine and these brief messages...

Circles

*Sigh*...Circles of communication aren't necessarily good things. Normally, I try to look out for everyone around me. It seems that I was just made that way. Now, I'm going to make an honest effort to look out for #1. I'm tired of the politics and the games. Just let me do my job, and leave me out of it.

Yay!

Life as I know it has been resumed. Bernard has returned from Thailand, therefore Trashy Thai has reopened. T11, here I come.

I'm baaaaaaaaack!

Good eve, all...I have returned from the nether-regions and am in fine form as usual. I have so many things that have happened to me, but since most of them are geek-related, no one really cares!

We made fabulous music...previously thought nigh-to-impossible on that particular medium (handbells), but alas, it was amazing. Nice people, BEAUTIFUL little 18th century town on the NC coast...life was grand. Then I answered my cell phone.

I leave for a freaking week and the DAY I get out of the office, Princess calls me to let me know that LIW is at it again. Imagine that.

Now it seems that she ran to Sir Knight with all the big, bad, Clarinazi goings-on of the past week or so (um, yeah.) at 8 am the day I left, and made up all sorts of snarky commentary to shower upon SK. He gets riled due to the barrage of half-truths and the pack of lies, and goes to Princess to see if she can fill in/determine the Rest Of The Story.

Well, after much head scratching, Princess calls me to let me know that I should be forewarned that SK is on the warpath against me. After a few hours of head scratching on my part, I call her back to ask why. She let me know that LIW had told SK that I was undermining her authority by giving Minnie and Princess my computer password, but she didn't have it, so I MUST have left on purpose, and besides I'm always changing my password so she can't get on my computer anyways.

Bloody hell. What happened to LOOK IN THE DESK DRAWER, YOU NINNY?

I am required to make the files on my computer accessible in case of emergency. I am NOT, however, required to make, say, e-mail (or any other program for that matter) available to those people. Therefore, I choose to copy pertinent files to a flash drive, and leave it in the desk drawer, with a hidden copy of my password, in case of death. LIW knows this. Crap, even the feds know this. (And of course, it is a matter to take straight to the boss.) I say the more important issue here goes something like this:

I'm a lazy, incompetent slug who has a desk full of work to do, but nothing ever gets done. I know I should do it, but damn, it's frustrating when nothing gets done! (Especially considering how much the other people in this office do! It makes me look lazy and incompetent!)


Ugh. I would love to just walk away from this crap. Who needs it?

That was a week and two days ago. I have yet to hear this story from anyone in person. Go figure.

Whee! Time away!

As I frantically get last-minute things done, I finally made it to the point on my to-do list that says "Tell the blogosphere that I am going to be gone from their world for a bit," and with that, I have fulfilled my list requirements.

For those who care, I'm going to a geek-fest for the rest of the week. For those who don't care, I'm still going, so there. I would call it a nerd-fest, but that is reserved for another instrument class entirely.

Have a good week without me, and visit me on Tuesday!

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!

Bustin' out the abacus

Well, I think Hell just froze over. No really! The other day, LIW decided that I was apparently smarter than your average slug and could handle working on the expense reports. After they have sat on her desk for about three weeks, she decided that they were difficult and she didn't have all the documentation she needed but wasn't sure what. She handed them to me to work on yesterday afternoon. They were all done yesterday afternoon except for one who called me back this morning, which was then finished this morning.

Is there anyone in the world who can really be that inept/careless?

Vuja de? Nay.

Do you ever get that strange feeling of vuja de? Not déjà vu; vuja de. It's the distinct sense that, somehow, something that just happened has never happened before. Nothing seems familiar. And then suddenly the feeling is gone. Vuja de. ~Carlin

But alas, my friends, this is not vuja de. This is the world's most noted case of déjà vu.

You will remember in numerous posts that my pal, LIW, seems to be conspicuously absent just prior to Big Things Happening in the office. Like the time the grant was late (preceded by a vacation), and the time the conference was to happen and didn't get planned (preceded by an elective surgery), and the list goes on.

Well, to little surprise to yours truly, I find out that (a) we have a grant application due on Monday. So it only follows that (b) LIW will be AWOL tomorrow and Friday. Sir Knight just asked if I knew about it, but negatory, friends. She told no one and never applied for leave. Supposedly taking comp time. Wonderful theory, but HEY! she doesn't have any available. Go figure...we ARE in need of funding since she singlehandedly trashed about $500 million, so it's only fair that she's absent more often than not. Right?

I loathe people who came by the nickname through a true lack of ambition. Damn slugs.



Oh, and as a side note, have I mentioned the HUMMING? Incessant. Out of tune. Coming from the general direction of LIW's office. AAAARGH!

High-caliber people, these.

No, Dave, I don't mean the kind preceded by a dot.

So you remember the post about the crazy woman who needed help with a mailout?

I just found out that it (a) wasn't a mailout and (b) why she was gone for the day. The job was to stuff 6 pages in portfolios. 40 of them. Wahoo. 30 minutes fo work, tops. But alas, Loony took the day off because (and I'm serious) her friend had a dream that a dead woman wanted them to find her, so they took off to look for the dead lady. Honest to God. She didn't do her work and took off to go find a woman who'd been dead for 11 years. Geesh people.

To borrow a phrase, SWEET SHIVERING SHIVA!

This CANNOT be happening. I've met idiots, then, apparently, there are idiots. And I work for/with one of the latter category. (Lady-In-Waiting from previous posts for the curious-minded.)

The week before I left for Chicago, I spent a goodly amount of time working on event planning for a smallish conference held last Tuesday and Wednesday. (You know, the small things--location, speakers, travel, etc.--the small things that LIW didn't get around to before she left for a WEEK) Because of the logical way that our blessed agency works, a large portion of that goodly amount of time was spent working on travel claims for the participants.

Let me walk the uninitiated through the process of filing a travel claim:
1. Fill out the claim to the best of your logical ability.
2. Realize that logic has NOTHING what-so-ever to do with it, and rework the claim.
3. Take the claims to the other scullery maid in the office, who is reluctantly in charge of travel, so to obtain her signature.
4. Return to your desk and make changes. Return to Scullery #2.
5. Take the initialed claim to the Queen Bee to initial.
6. Return to your desk and make changes. Return to Queen Bee.
7. Take the doubly-initialed claim to the Guru de Travel to check over (and initial).
8. Return to your desk and make changes. Return to G de T.
9. Receive accepted and initialed travel claims to be signed by the participants of the conference.
10. Return completed forms to G de T to file for payment.

So I spend all day Thursday and Friday doing the claims, moving the conference do to another monumental fsck up (though not the agency's fault), and then redoing the claims. When I leave for Chi-town, they are initialed in triplicate, received and ready to be approved by Herself. Enter LIW.

I put a sticky note on each claim with a list of information I needed to complete each one, since there are significant differences between all 24 of them. LIW takes the claims to the conference to be finally signed, but decides that I don't really need all the information I have requested and tells people to disregard most of the information on the note. THEN she decides that much of the information on the claims is incorrect, and takes it upon herself to not put questions on sticky notes to ask me later, but instead to white out all the information I had painstakingly researched and placed into the form, and put in INCORRECT INFORMATION, that now I have to find some way to fix. Well, auditors frown on white-out on forms that determine lump sums of money, so somehow I have to recreate the signatures of all these people onto forms that had she not screwed with in the first place would already be paid.

These are the forms that, in an ideal world, I would place in her desk chair with a file folder and a note, "You fscked 'em up, you fix 'em." Damn my ethics.

from the Nether-regions

Hello, again, all. It's amazing how in a city that calls itself the pinnacle of current trends, cosmopolitan fashion, and a crossroads for communication, you can't find a freakin' computer to get online! Argh. So I sit at the public library on a 15-minute express computer typing as fast as I can in order to check all the emails, let you all know that I'm yet alive, etc.

For those who personally have a stake in my life:

Dave--Tomorrow, 6:30 pm. It's a date. And I'm bringin' you leftovers.
Ariel--Tim said that I need to give you a hug. THANK YOU! I'll let you know the decision when I get back.
Co-workers--I died and won't be back to work. Ever. (Don't I wish.)

That said, I'm down to 2 minutes. Better post this...

Damn laziness.

Well, the ending to this week was eventful, if nothing else. I spent all week setting up this freakin' conference that didn't get handled before specific others in my office took time off. So by Wednesday everything is all nice and neat (except the crap that has to go through the agency, of course) and Thursday is spent tidying up loose ends. Then Friday happened...

The first bit of communication I receive when I arrive at work is an email from the manager at the hotel holding the newly-arranged conference (that he did have the dates for in February...) -- just a friendly reminder that oops! He forgot to set up the sleeping rooms for the conference, and as a result, all my people get to sleep in their cars. Whee! Happy Friday.

So I also get a call, directly after calling the dumbass back to rectify *his* situation, that tells me that Sir Knight has had the misfortune of being in a car wreck. Moron hit-and-ran him. So I get to deal alone. Wazah. In two hours, I had all the paperwork changed over (and run through the agency, miraculously enough), and now the conference is in a different hotel in a different town.

...and the best part of this all is that the conference happens next week...while I'm in Chicago. So I don't have to deal with a bit of it. Oh well, life is hard, right?

OH MY FREAKING AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!

I HATE THIS DEPARTMENT!!!!!!!!!!!!

So I get summoned to help with the mailout...not a huge deal, but pointless...and the person who wheedled for help all yesterday and all this morning HAS TAKEN THE REST OF THE DAY OFF!

Fsking amazing.

A-hem.

Apparently, I have been working under a misconception this last few months. All along (and for the past score of years or so) I have thought that my existance was for the sole purpose of making selected persons' lives easier to manage. Apparently those "selected persons" are fewer than I originally presumed.

This week the fit has hit the shan over my aid to certain other royal personages in my office. I have figured out that it is better for me to sit at my desk twiddling rather than help the completely and utterly overworked person next door (or the one at the next desk over, I might add). Queen Bee has wanted me to work on some projects for Princess, but alas, I shan't work with her. Instead, I twiddle.

Now, I have been summoned to help another earned-title slug stuff letters. How is it that I can do a 2,000 piece mailout in 2 days and SHE can't do a 540-piece in 2 weeks? Grumble.

Here we go again.

Let's see...police, calculus...oh yes. God.

Sis and I went upstairs after dinner to begin work on the next oh-so-fun chapter of math. Just as we start working on the first problem, thunder rumbles in the distance. We fix the calculator, then thunder rumbles not-so-in-the-distance. We pay little attention, and apparently God was feeling neglected, for just as we go to work on the computer, lightning strikes the pool in Sis and Hubby's backyard, thunder crashes, lightning arcs through the open window and into the two of us. We scream like little girls and Hubby comes crashing up the stairs.

He arrives to see Sis butt-up on the floor, me standing petrified, gazing out the window, and the computer monitor flashing in a threatening fashion. The lights blink once, twice, then go off permanently.

At least now I know that God feels the same way about calculus that I do.

Oh the never-ending bliss!

For those who are interested that I'm still alive, I am. Yes, this is a feat considering the last 24 hours. At least I can't (totally) blame it on stupid people. Except maybe the guy at Wal-Mart, but usually in my book ineptitude doesn't fall under the "stupid" tree, just the "as-yet-untrained" tree.

So let's begin with some background. There is a family living next to Sister. They are out-of-their-minds, stark-raving PSYCHOTIC most of the time, and the rest of the time they are mere annoyances. Although I have gotten my revenge on the neighbors in a slight way, I have a feeling more, um, decisive action is to come.

The Loonies have decided that Sister and Hubby offend them by mere existence. They have social visits from the police several times per week due to varied nuisance calls and neigborhood disturbance. Their dogs amazingly know how to bark vociferously while they sleep, and Sis/Hubby have figured out a way to amplify their radio straight into the Loonies' bedroom. The other neighbors never hear the radio or the dogs, but alas, the Loonies are all-hearing. So begins last night.

I have Sis pick me up at the fix-a-car place, and when we return to Sis's abode so I can tutor her in math, the town's finest are there talking to their other neighbors about the radio that plays directly into the Loonies' bedroom. After an hour or so of social chit-chat, the police decide that it is time they leave. The rest of us retire to dinner, after which Sis and I retire upstairs to the online pre-cal course. A storm is brewing in the west, and I have decided that God doesn't like calculus.

Ah, Sir Knight calls...more later

Stupid people, shopping, and a weekend

People suck. Really. Only here can uneducated people become educators. Geesh. I thought that after the weekend, the folly of my job would be wearing off, but alas, the cynicism and commentary continue. Grr to people who can't read for comprehension. I hate being grouped with other slugs who earned their nickname. Ugh.

In other news, I spent the weekend shopping in Hell. All the longhorns were facing the wrong direction and were painted the wrong color. A friend of mine summed it up right nicely (and I quote) "If I owned Texas and Hell, I'd rent out Texas and live in Hell." Amen, brother.

Maybe the location is why shopping didn't raise my flagging spirits as much as usual. I bought a fantastic pair of stilettos, a pair of Roman sandals, and a pair of polka-dotted slides, but I'm still depressed. Damn Texas.

T minus 8 days to Chicago. Maybe a trip to the favored city will be just what the doctor ordered. A trip...and a Dr. Pepper.

Happy Friday.

Well, I hope everyone made it past Tuesday with little sobriety and lots of fun. Not me. I just made it past Tuesday, and I'm jolly glad of that small accomplishment.

I've spent the last two days at a slug-fair in downtown. Chris, for the record, I have new appreciation for people sitting behind tables waiting for the masses to come to you. I'm a do-er, and waiting for 3000 people to decide that my program is the one they are looking for is not what I treasure. I have gotten off work early for the last two days (bonus) but the lack of freedom to do things that really need done (like planning the conference in 2 weeks that still doesn't have a location) is really frustrating. Most everyone else chats and plays games on their laptop, but alas. LIW had the laptop and was busy looking busy for most of the time. Then Princess wanted me to help with the press conference this morning, so I spent all morning standing around (literally--I stood in the back of the room and smiled at everyone) watching a bunch of people tell their life story.

Grr. Just give me a conference to organize, and I'll run the whole damn thing blindfolded with my hands tied. Make me be a flunky and I'll grumble because I have nothing to do. Maybe if the g'ment would figure out how to give personality tests and make those who don't like to work do my job, and give me one that is active and focused, we'd have a better state. Well, at least a more organized and efficient agency.

With oximorons like that in print, maybe hell will freeze over.

...the bombs bursting in air

Happy Independence Day. Be safe (especially you, you-know-who-you-are...and don't take your brother on a date either.).

I have decided to forego the fireworks this year for fear that something along these lines would happen to me. Go figure.

Bombs away.

My lopsided soapbox

I need to carve a ladder into my soapbox. It's getting worn down on one side from all the crawling I'm doing to get on and off of it.

With that said...

I need to smooth out the heel prints left from the stilettos I wore last time, then hop up onto my soapbox in my nifty flip-floppy sandals. Just for the record, in case you've missed the last installments of my soapbox moments, I LOATHE STUPID PEOPLE!!!!!!!!!!!

Today's honoree works in Chicago, and I have her idocy in writing...

I am doing research, and to give you a sample of the questions, these are a few of the questions from the questionnaire:

To which organization do the following answers apply?
How is your organization structured?
What strategy does your organization follow for Marketing and Public Relations?
Do you have a detailed position statement or brand strategy? If so, please provide details.
Does your organization actively pursue Marketing and Public Relations opportunities? How?
How long has your organization actively pursued Marketing and Public Relations?
Historically, has your organization had any obstacles to Marketing and Public Relations? Have there been any other obstacles to overcome as an organization?
What is the approximate attendance to your organization’s events annually?
Is attendance seasonal? Does it follow any predictable patterns? If so, please describe patterns.
What type of person generally attends your organization’s events? (Describe person)
What percentage of sales is budgeted for Marketing and Public Relations?
What new market ideas lie ahead? Does your organization actively seek new markets or demographics?
What challenges or hurdles are foreseen for the next five years of your organization?
Historically, what medium or campaign has worked best for your organization?
Which media or campaigns have been least effective?
Is your organization dependent upon fundraising for over 50% of your income, or are other monies available (i.e., grants, subsidies, or endowments)?
To what degree does fundraising affect Marketing and Public Relations in your organization?

Honoree sent the following response to those questions. (Understand that these questions have been answered by organizations whose annual attendence is in the 2-5 million range...)

I’ve looked over your questions, but I think I need a little more detail in all of the questions so that I know what kind of info you’re looking for. The *** is a really large organization, and there’s no easy answer to most of your questions without some more direction from you. Would you mind sending me something that’s a little more specific?

Also, when do you need the responses back?

June 31, dummy.

Go team.

Whew. I've spent the last three days in my home burg teaching teachers how to teach (well, our brand of teaching anyway). Fun huh? Right. The conference was fun, but since it was at home, there really isn't much going on. Maybe cow tipping at night. Heh. Had a bonfire with all the folks at the farm, and we sang John Denver and Woody Guthrie songs. Whippee. I didn't know that city folks knew those songs!!! Anyway, tomorrow is back to Queen Bee and real life. QB's been gone for a few days, and I'm saddened that I missed the peace her hiatus brought to the office...

But alas, the peace has been removed, and I am to return to work (...the latter is not causally related to the former, Dave.). At least it's past halfway to the weekend. I need a drink.

*grumble*

Grr to the Zoo people or Chicago or Huey Lewis or whoever broke the equipment last night. Why did they have to break the sound equipment, and not the sound guy? He was HORRIBLE!

A lot of people in my esteemed organization are grumbling about having an interminable wait followed by a lousy concert. I'm sorry, but true fans understand that there are good days and bad days for everyone. Even Chicago. ...admittedly this one sucking was probably helped along by some really good drugs backstage during the interminable wait, but maybe they needed it to get through. They are getting older, you know. I must say that if I have the chops to play like Jimmy when I'm his age, I'll be a happy person, even if he was high as a kite last night.

Also, what kind of person can spend time with their best friends at a concert and complain that they had a chance to sit around with nothing better to do than shoot the bull with their best cronies?!? Life is hard folks, and that's probably the best it's going to get. Take advantage of it! Cripes. Gripey complainers. Argh.

Why me?

Why do some people have an innate capacity for idleness, while I am burdened by an innate ability to overload myself?

This summer began as a quite time for socializing and meditation. Now, it is a harried season booked beginning to end. Evenings, weekends, days, the whole bit. Research, school, church, bells, tutoring, random errands, clean, and then all over again. How did I get myself into this?

*Pulling hair out*

Father's Day blues

Welcome all to Father's Day weekend. Let the annual blues begin. While most father/daughter combos are out doing whatever normal fathers and daughters do, I sit here at my happy computer and try to decide if my dad has indeed been deserving of the yearly Father's Day email. It's not much, just "Happy Father's Day" in the subject line, and maybe a repeat of that in the body, if a body exists at all, but in my family, that one little email is a thing to be deserved. It isn't a right, it's a privledge. Biology doesn't equal greatness in my corner of existance.

Hmm. I think back over the past year. There has been a series of emails where I was announced the recipient of assorted used kitchenware items, and there was the email that encouraged a joint Independence Day/Labor Day/Thanksgiving/Christmas/New Year's/Valentine's Day/Birthday/St. Patrick's Day get-together dinner, but since it didn't happen until a mite before Mother' s Day, and I picked up the tab, I don't really feel that an email in response is earned as yet.

Then there always is the fact that, alas, none of the signatures on the emails (save one) say "Dad". One does say, "Love, Dad." It's the yearly get together one. All the rest are just signed with his first name. I never called him that when he was around; why should I start now? He used to be "Bill-In-A-Box" since all my college friends figured he lived in a cardboard hut beneath I-40, but I have since found out that he lives in a real house (there's nothing in it, but it's a roof) in a small town about an hour away, so now it's back to "Dad." ...at least on my part.

*Sigh* Holidays are too complicated.

Say cheese!

In the following joke, if you even THINK about putting my name to this tale, I'll...I'll...*insert harmless threat here* ...

A young blonde was on vacation and driving through the Everglades. She wanted to take home a pair of genuine alligator shoes in the worst way, but was very reluctant to pay the high prices the local vendors were asking. After becoming very frustrated with the "no haggle on prices" attitude of one of the shopkeepers, the blonde shouted, "Well then,maybe I'll just go out and catch my own alligator, so I can get a pair of shoes for free!" The shopkeeper said with a sly, knowing smile, "Little lady, just go and give it a try!" The blonde headed out toward the swamps, determined to catch an alligator.

Later in the day, as the shopkeeper is driving home, he pulls over to the side of the levee where he spots that same young woman standing waist deep in the murky bayou water, shotgun in hand. Just then, he spots a huge 9-foot gator swimming rapidly toward her. With lightning speed, she takes aim, kills the creature and hauls it onto the slimy bank of the swamp. Lying nearby were 7 more of the dead creatures, all lying on their backs. The shopkeeper stood on the bank, watching in silent amazement. The blonde struggled and flipped the gator onto its back. Rolling her eyes heaven-ward and screaming in great frustration, she shouts out DAMN...THIS ONE'S BAREFOOT TOO!"

A break from the norm

Normally, my mind seems to be stimulated by ugliness and the lower strata of society. The dregs usually appeal to me in a can't-not-watch-a-car-wreck kind of way. I am here this lovely a.m., however, to consider beauty. (Yes, Dave, I know.)

You know that moment when you first see a work of art, or a person, or whatever, and you feel like you've been sucker-punched from the sheer beauty of the whatever-you're-looking-at. Turn that into music, and I give you the concert I attended last night.

Yes, I'm a dork, but even I am rarely such moved by a handbell concert. Yes, they're fun, they're sometimes stodgy, and generally quite interesting, but this choir blew me away.

Cast of Bronze, the Dallas Community Handbell Choir (yes, they're volunteer), rang at McFarlin Methodist last night. They play 7 octaves of handbells (let's just say the smallest is a dog bell since it calls every dog, and the largest I could swim in...) and 7 octaves of handchimes (only 2 sets exist worldwide). The lowest chime was, oh, about the same height as I, and I was suitable impressed. Especially the first time that low C reverberated throughout the sanctuary. WHOA.

They played a Bill Payn piece, Commemeration of the Spirit, that was written as a memorial to a ringer who passed away. It told the story of her life, and started out with a barely discernable toll in the bass, built up to bells pealing, and faded back to a slow toll. By the end of the piece, I had goosebumps from head to toe, trying not to bawl my eyes out. Sucker-punched.

Eeep!

You know that cartoon when the rabbit gets alarmed and his ears go straight up and his eyes bug out while the "aaoogah" horn sounds in the background? Insert yours truly for the bunny (my ears/eyes stay put, however), and you have my reaction to the fact that today is WEDNESDAY! Holy cow. The muse of my soapbox has been talking to me all week, but I've been too busy to notice.

I think my next post should be something about the time/space continuum and how I met myself on Friday leaving my house Thursday.

If I get a spare chance today, I'll dust off ye old soapbox and hop myself onto it (with much grace I assure you.)...keep your fingers crossed and your eyes peeled.

(and those avid readers may have noticed the MAYDAY! MAYDAY! post is now a draft, sitting on my computer unpublished...I had an attack of conscience and decided to remove it. If you're terribly interested in my ultimate demise (potentially), email me or comment and I'll see that you get to see the wonders of the g'ment life...)

MAYDAY! MAYDAY!

So it is possible that my slugishness is at risk. This whole saga started about 4 months ago...let's go back.

So there's a deadline approaching for our community-based grant. (For the uninformed, my section works under two grants: one is community-based, for organizations such as YMCA, and the other is school-based, for public school programs.) It is a competitive grant, which cycles every three years. (So, intuitively, one should realize in mid-2003 that this baby would come due in mid-2006.) Well, it is February 2006, and the deadline is quickly approaching. There are several sections to the grant application, and writing grants is no mean feat. There are some in our office who are uber-organized and don't go so much for procrastination, there are others who live in complete disarray and somehow always manage to finish things sort-of on time. Then we visit the third category of g-slug that works in our office. This type of person is the one who is mostly organized and likes things to run to plan. All well and good. This type makes goals and deadlines, most of which are met. It's the big ones that seem to be problematic. Like grant submission deadlines. The school-based grant was a few hours late, but it wasn't a big problem since it isn't really competitive. However, in late February, this third type of personality has a large section of the grant to write. The other two groups of people finish their writing and submission with a few hours to spare. The third is still plugging away, so the first two ask if the third needs assistance. Group 3 assures 1 and 2 that everything is good and there are no problems. RIGHT. Well, to make a long story not quite so long, the grant is not submitted on time. Argh.

Fast forward to yesterday.

We receive the list of grantees for the new grant cycle. Guess who isn't on the list? Bingo. Groups 1, 2, and 3. Although there is no word yet exactly why our esteemed section did not receive said grant, would anyone like to volunteer logical reasons? ---I probably here should let you know that even if logic ever did play into any g'ment decisions (which it doesn't), it probably isn't the only reason for the current situation...but it IS the most obvious.

So half of our funding is gone, and we can't reapply for three years. Since salaries are paid from this grant, my slugishness could possibly be endangered. Unlikely, but possible. We have 15 months to phase out the community side of our subgrantees. That may include a staff person. Hopefully not me. I would like to be the one to decide when and why I cease existance as a government slug.

Grr.

So while I'm on the topic...

Excuse me while I hike up my skirt and plant my four inch stilettos firmly in the middle of my soapbox.

I HATE STUPID PEOPLE. This statement is now currently expanded to include pervasive stupidity (not to be confused with ignorance), complete irrationality, and utter bullheadedness without justification. I'm sure there are more adjectives that belong under my umbrella statement of hatred, but these are the ones I will be discussing on this particular hot-as-the-seventh-level-of-hell day.

Let me begin with a diagram for you. In the world of G-Slugs, hierarchy is everything. No loyalties exist between any slugs that aren't part of the same hierarchy. Logic and decision-making (they seem to be mutually exclusive) only exist subservient to the hierarchy. So let me call my level of the hierarchy "scullery maid." The level that comes above me is somewhere around "knight" or "princess" depending on which SM hat I'm wearing at the time. (If I'm wearing the SM of Sir Knight Hat, there does exist a Lady-In-Waiting.) Above Sir/Princess comes Queen Bee. There are levels above queen bee, but although I know they exist, that is a fact to be taken on faith alone.

So SM and Sir Knight have been working with LIW on a training session to be held at the end of June. QB decides that she would like to see said session not happen, so refuses to sign the paperwork. SK asks QB what the problem is, to which QB responds with some completely irrational answer. QB insists that SK, LIW, and SM start from scratch with a different plan of attack.

The next day, SK and LIW are in attendance with QB, who realizes that they have, indeed, come up with a solution to get around her irrationality. So she gets angry to an unholy degree that we have "made this work." Gee. And here I thought that the function of my position within the department was to make things work.

Until I became a SM to QB, I never quite realized that there were supervisors who became livid upon the realization that their underlings had brains, creativity, and a mote of logic. And here I thought that I existed to make her life easier. I'm so dumb.

Um, yeah.

So apparently today it was announced that a company in Maine has started producing "Serial Killer Calendars"...just like centerfolds. (US Firm Makes Killer Calendar)

Geez. It's not OK in this country for, say, bizarre sexual relations to occur, but it IS ok for us to make a profit off of the likes of Jeffrey Dahmer (May's pinup). There are many things in this country that I am at odds with, but this is pop culture taken too far. I think EVERYONE should wake up every morning to a smiling serial killer watching them sleep. Wow.

...a strange day.

So get this. *Enter soundtrack o' doom* Today...*dah, dah, daaaaaaaaaaah* I WORKED.

Not hard, mind you. Just passing busy for a majority of the day. And of course, it was completely unrelated to my job description, but if that didn't qualify, nothing ever would.

I had to babysit 150 future teachers. Well, maybe 149 future teachers and 1 not-future teacher, but you get the idea.

In other news, best friends rock. You know who you are, and you know I love you. ;-) (Just don't ask me to repeat it...saying things like that too often makes a girl get the heebie-jeebies.)

Off to read the snail mail and practice piano.

Bonne nuit...

Bored

One of the biggest blehs about being a government slug is the complete lack of control you have over your own time. For example, my boss is out of the office yesterday and today as is the person who gives me work when my boss doesn't. This leaves me with approximately nothing to do. I say approximately because I did have to send a fax yesterday. I work infinately faster than anyone else in my office, so I'm rarely behind, and when everyone's gone, this becomes a problem. I'm sure I shouldn't complain about having to do not-a-lot at work, but it's frustrating when I've done every conceivable thing in the office, and it takes an hour.

Don't get me wrong; I love where I work, and the people here are *mostly* great. There are a couple who enjoy making my life miserable, but the fact that they micromanage has little to do with me individually, or even my section individually. I'm just so *bleep*ing frustrated about sitting on my tail reading websites all day or trying to act busy...here's a heartfelt GRRR to all you who work. I'm envious, but I need this job so I can study. But it's summer. No school=nothing to do all day. It's a vicious cycle.

I love to read, but I can't because if people see me, they tell their people that I don't work and I get in trouble for not working, then I tell those people that I'd love to work, just give me something to do, and I get in trouble for being a smartass. Argh.

I feel like my brain is turning to mush. I do puzzles, quests, and the like to try to stay intellectually stimulated while at work. Somewhere out there has to be the utopian job--always busy and not with busy work.

Crossroads

So you know that point in life where you think you finally have it all figured out and things are going your way? ...then someone or something comes along behind you and pulls the rug out from under your feet and you can't seem to catch yourself before you splat facedown on the concrete? Welcome to Sunday.

I love playing the piano at the church where I am, but I also do more than just accompany; I write the music for and direct the orchestra, I write a lot of the music for and direct the handbell choir, I play piano for the choir and direct/participate in the praise band. I play two special music pieces per week, both requiring rehearsal time, I choose/accompany two cantati per year, choose all the music for worship services, and the list goes on. I have the same paycheck as the lady who moved so I could obtain this wonderous position. She played the piano as long as she had a few months of notice to practice, and that was all she did. I get almost $70 per week to do all these wondrous things for our church.

Last week, I got offered a position in another church, further away from home, that would pay me about 2.5 times the current amount. I don't particularly want to leave my church since I did start so many programs there and they need me since the choir director can't write instrumental music easily, but today I went to talk to the pastor to discuss my options. I consider him a close friend--he's known me most of my life--and basically he said, "well, do what you have to do." I thought that at least he'd take my proposal to the SPR committee to look over and decline, but it didn't even make it out of his office. He did tell me that priorities in the church were (1) an assistant pastor, (2) building a multimillion dollar expansion on the building, and (3) hiring a Sunday school adminstrator. He said that in five years or so, maybe an assistant music director was going to be a priority, but now, my orchestra, bell choir, etc. would just have to wait.

I understand if a church has little money and has to scrape by to exist. This church isn't like that. The most wealthy people in town attend this particular church (though their tithes are miserly), and none are musicians. There is one other lady in the church of 500 that plays the piano, which I find sad. She's a student of mine.

So with this in mind, the pastor also told me that he hadn't had a raise in over three years, but was going to be asking the SPR committee to give the staff people a 5-8% raise in the fall. Wahoo. Let's see, carry the 2, move the decimal, that comes to between $16-26 per month more. Whoopee. Maybe if I were grossing say $10G, I could get more excited about 5-8%. That isn't even enough of a raise to make my net (after mileage) a positive number. Argh.

I'm not a big fan of crossroads. I like my life to be stable, to know what my schedule is going to be, and have complete organization. These kinds of decisions suck. At least he could present it to SPR. Geez. An extra 5 minutes at a meeting they're already holding on Tuesday. Is that really too much to ask?

*Sigh.*

Grr to whoever wrote the really cool template that I totally loved. Grr to whoever provided the website that it was on. Oh well, now we all just get to look at basic black.

So my stomach finally loves me. I had Thai last night with Billy, and this afternoon with Ma. I spent the whole afternoon after Thai until a little bit ago finishing installing a storm door. Just give me a drill and I'm a whole different woman. Not better, just different. I hate building things and I only become "handy" when there's no one around. It's always better to have someone else do something for you. Especially when that something requires power tools. Oh well, the door looks good and closes on its own, so that's all that really matters.

So the bosses and their companions are all out of the office starting on Monday. Hmm... What to do with myself...I think I'll spend the rest of the weekend looking forward to twiddling my thumbs. They sure left me a lot to do. I have to send a fax and do assorted filing. I may possibly be able to work on a document that is to be done quite soon, but more likely, it won't be ready for typing...oh goody. Bash.org, be prepared!

Hooray for Mary Kay.

I've been spending the last few days typing my fingers to the bone (hence no desire to do further typing on my blog). We have a document that is to be printed in two weeks that we are nowhere close to finished on (about 300 pages long) and guess who is the typist-of-honor for the project? Yup. Yours truly.

In other news, Mary Kay is a great company. Every time the products rock and can't get better, they rock my world and improve upon the best. It's great working for the #1 company in a worldwide industry... :-) (Since this shameless plug should now segue into different matters, see www.marykay.com for more info (you can add /"my name" if you know that too for more personalized information)!!

I have to sell 78 Satin Hands to get stage recognition at Seminar. Wait. I'm not going to Seminar. Oh well, I'll do it anyway just to prove that I'm still the best. (Yes, Dave, I AM the best. I've outsold my whole unit combined for 3 weeks running.) Off to get crackin' on people's cracked and miserable hands. It's nice to know that I can do good for someone else...for a price. ;-)

...the best laid plans

I have decided that I am the poster child for "change-of-plan"--my picture is featured in Webster's. After the fabulous weekend of doing nothing-that-I-had-planned, I spent Monday buying a mattress (not planned), and tonight's plans have--you guessed it--gone by the wayside.

I have the best of intentions. I WANT to go to the gym, and I WANT to eat Thai food. Now, instead, I have to go to Chickasha and pick up bells. Then (theoretically) Dave and I are going to the gym and (actually) going to eat Thai food. Organizing the Bell Pick-Up Event of Twenty-Aught Six has turned into a massive orchestration effort. ...Getting brute force, getting an appropriate buggy, finding times that work for everyone and acutally getting everything in order...took several hours. I'm sure that had I not had to do that, those hours would have been used far less wisely.

Speaking of using time wisely, since I'm at work, I think I should do just that...

Bon apres-midi.

Whee for the weekend

So, now it's the weekend (well, the weekend's half over), and I've accomplished approximately nothing. All my (few) plans for Saturday were shot down by a surprise trip to Norman and Sunday was filled with Blanchard/sofa moving. Wahoo.

Friday I was planning to eat Thai food. Well, apparently, Bernard decided that I would have other plans as he was closed for the holiday (until TUESDAY!?! Tragic.)...so instead, Billy and I went to look at shoes and cars. We bought both, and the guy at the car place wanted to buy some Mary Kay stuff so I decided that I'd go to Norman on Saturday morning to deliver. Woot. There went one sleepin-in day. Later Saturday, the three-ring circus (aka Dave, Billy, Mom and I) decided to put in our new screen door. Three hours and a Chicago greatest hits CD later, we met with success. Well, more like they met with success. I went to Wal-Mart to forage for dinner makings and missed out on the grunting and cussing part. I made it home in time to stand back and look at the pretty door.

Spent this morning in Blanchard doing the Sunday thing, then I went with Billy to the ghetto to buy a sofa. Three hours and four thousand trips to the ghetto later, the sofa was a success in the home of someone on vacation. The sofa reeks, and there is absolutely no air in the house where we put it. Can't wait for that guy to get home! Wowza.

So I have to read the Bible in French next week, and I got a(nother) crash course in French diction. Can anyone say about ten ancient civilization names in French (I can't even say them in English)??? If so, I need you. If not, I may want you, but needs and wants have long been differentiated in my world.

Anyway, I'm off to bed to enjoy a wonderful full night's sleep. And a full morning's sleep for that matter.

Bonne nuit...

Woot.

So I'm no longer bored; for as few people as there are at work today, there sure is a lot to be done (and for the most part, the people who have to do it are the ones who are MIA). Oh well, life is wonderful anyhow--I get to eat Thai tonight. Whoo-hoo.

In other news, our fax machine sounds pitiful. If anyone knows of a sure-fire method to put it out of its misery let me know (not you, Dave)...it groans worse than any person I know!

Well, here I am...again.

So I sit at my desk, day after day, and think, "Gee. I should write down my thoughts so everyone else in the world can know what I'm thinking."

Then I realize that probably one or two other people worldwide really give a rip about what I don't do at work, but I'm here to give it a shot anyway. Maybe this time it will last for more than a summer. Don't count on it, but maybe...

I figure everyone should know what has happened to me of late (I'm not going to catch you up from my last blog...argh. Don't even want to think about that monstrous task.), so I'm just going to give you a quick rundown of the last few months.

December--Got a new full-time job as a Government Slug. Way so much better than say, David's Bridal? Gives me lots of time to study while working. Life is grand.
--Moved a friend to Las Vegas. Decided that I would never live in Sin City (well, at least not that one...)
January--Went to Baltimore to see Philip. Shopped a lot, and decided that when the niggling feeling I'd been having about that relationship turned from hair on the back of my neck to alarm bells in my head, that it was time to make a drastic change.
February--Broke up with Philip, started dating a new guy. Whee.
March--Spring Break at last!!!
April--School almost drives me over the edge...ok, Dave, just for you, I know it's a just short putt. Thai, Dave, and Billy keep me sane.
May--School's out. Kept my GPA, joined a gym, and life is grand once again.

Now it's almost Memorial Day, and I'm not prepared for the summer. There is so much to do, so little time. I can't decide on what I want to do for the summer (ballroom dance or community band?!? ... I'm such a dork.) other than the thousands of things I have already lined up. I think I'll go and figure that out now, then I will decide what to do in Chicago in July.

Hmm. Chicago. I wonder if tickets to the concert are still available? Hmm...