Thursday, October 28, 2004

Crap Week

This has been a crap week. I'm sick of apartment management companies that completely extract any humanity out of the apartment "home" leasing process; I'm sick of stupid charity functions that are inadequately coordinated and when the stuff hits the fan, the chairperson passes the buck to me; I'm tired of my mother telling me "you aren't going to like this house, I already know it" with her lips pursed in a mother-knows-best manner...especially when she says that about every house I've looked at and every roommate I've checked out; I'm sick of my doggone cats (the ones that are supposed to be my comforting relief from the harsh, cold world) , peeing on my doggone down comforter right in the middle of my bed!; I'm sick of having a non-existent relationship with a guy who has been saying he will come see me since July; I'm sick of the American voting process (I stood in line for 45 minutes to vote for a guy that doesn't have a chance in hell of winning an electoral vote from Texas); I'm sick of ignorant and disrespectful people at work who assume I'm voting for W; I'm sick of closed-minded, arrogant, money-hungry people. I think that's a pretty good start to my list of greivances. I may elaborate more on them later, and then again I may not. I just need to get this week done with.

Wednesday, October 20, 2004

Just give me the damn pink paper!

First of all, I must say that this posting goes out to Tim. He encouraged me to start my own blog even though I insisted that I was not nearly as creative as my friends. (Dre and Lisa- you've got awesome blogs!) But I decided to give it a go.

Of course I will have to maintain my entire blog from work...which is a little awkward, especially since we just received a company email about email and internet procedures. I have this paranoia thing about someone looking over my shoulder...but mostly its just Tim. He has this uncanny knack for quietly approaching me when I least expect it. Tim is a cool guy though. He tends to be an independent thinker, highly unusual and sometimes a little scary, but mostly just your whitebread variety of different- the kind that makes life interesting.

Hopefully, I will be able to afford a telephone line and internet connection sometime soon. Then I can write my blog without this strange guilt of feeling like I'm cheating all of corporate America with my simple musings.

Anywho, this is the first entry inspired by a strange event, which as the aforementioned, Tim thought would make a good posting.

The event: Little Indian guy named Norm snuck up on me and touched my bottom in the hallway at work today.

How it came to pass: Not entirely sure, incident is kind of a blur because it happened so fast. Norm pointed out to me that I had a something on me. And as I saw his hand going for my backside I immediately assumed that it must be on my back- near the shoulderbone perhaps. That's when Norm swooped in and "grabbed a piece of lint" of my bottom. It was shocking. I wasn't quite sure what to say- "Um, thanks"; "hey you little man, that is soooo against section 1.542.89 of the company handbook!"; or just be happy that my backside, even if it is lint-infested, is receiving a little attention today. Still not sure how I feel about the incident. I'll have to keep my eye on Normy.

This brings me to another office episode. We have a secretary- let's just refer to her as Big Momma. Well, Big Momma LOVES to lay down the law around here. Sometimes BM can be quite intimidating. So in my line of work, we like to color code our papers, and it just so happens that bright, flourescent pink paper is a very important color to us. We ran out of pink paper, and my boss told me to order some more. Of course this is a special order item, and of course BM handles those for our project- trust me that I tried to go around her, but in the end it was just me and BM.

I timidly approached her and got shot down immediately. I went back to my boss, and she said it doesn't matter what BM says we are going to get the paper, especially so now that she says we can't. My boss is like...well, for those UCS'ers, sort of like the grown up version of Penny. So you can see how I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Neither side was giving. We had to go to upper management for this one ream of flourescent pink paper. Insanity. I just know one day when I come up for review there will be a note in my personnel folder about an incident over a ream of pink paper.

I did get the paper by the way.