About four months ago, we hired a new lady to work in a department far off from mine. Her name is Luckie. She’s cute, funny, and dresses fantastically odd. She bubbles over with cheer. I know this because she, at random moments, will jettison past my cubicle for supplies (the supply room is down the hall). She frequently pops by and loudly proclaims how amazing it is to be alive or something equally observant. Our work interactions are rare, but they are predominantly done via e-mail. She always seemed happy, neat, and fun. Why not move on to lunch? I thought to myself. Yesterday, I bravely whipped up a fairly nonchalant e-mail about having lunch sometime. She responded within thirty seconds that we’d be having lunch tomorrow… so, today was that lunch. Read the rest of this entry »
This past weekend Girl and I went to Las Vegas. It was a blast (Girl might talk about this more herself). But one thing bothered me. Well, there were two things, but leaving the raging heat out of this, one thing. What thing you ask? Vegas’s rejection of quarters.
For our trip, I brought a lot of quarters. I like wandering throughout the casinos dropping a few coins in a machine here, or a few coins in a machine there, maybe winning, maybe losing, who knows. In Vegas, however, I’m out of luck! No machine in Las Vegas has a coin slot! You either give it paper money or one of those cash receipt things which they give you if you win or cash out.
So there I was, stuck in Vegas with gambling money with which I couldn’t gamble (at least not with as much ease as I intended). The result? I did far less gambling than I would have. But in the end, I think that’s a good thing because I could be out a lot more money that I was.
Well, everyone was overwhelmed with yesterday’s fabulous ensemble, so I’m sure they will be equally underwhelmed today (back to my normal, everyday lackluster ensemble) - anyways… It’s Friday and slightly windy outside this morning - plus I was in the city ten minutes before my building would open - so I decided to treat myself… Normally, I make my own tea in the morning as it saves money and I only drink green tea, nothing in it, so why pay for that? Well, it’s Friday and I feel like splurging! Today’s tea is Genmai Cha Tea, which I’ll be honest, smells much like popcorn (too hot to drink yet). I’m looking forward to it.
I’m now the “proud” new owner of an Xbox 360. Took long enough, right? It’s been out for how long now? 2 or 3 years?
(Yes, I have the ugly, green Halo edition)
I, generally, do not wear skirts and/or dresses. It’s just not my thing. I prefer pinstriped pants, easy-going sweaters, and basic accessories. However, today is a special day at work, and therefore, I’m wearing a skirt (and other things, I’m not just walking around in a skirt - although this is probably the best city to try something like that without getting arrested). This skirt has a disastrous history and has only been worn once for its misbehaving ways. It loves wind and has a way of picking the absolute wrong moment for its Marilyn Monroe impression (achieved with great hilarity not once, but twice, at the wedding I brought this skirt to). But, it’s so pretty and happy and is one of the few skirts that still fit (losing weight is great, but it cuts down the wardrobe).
I put it on this morning, with an upbeat green sweater combination, and proceeded to wait for Boy to come out of his bathroom and tell me how fabulous I looked, or how awful I looked, whichever (though, I was hoping for fabulous). His review was something like this: Cute, but not WOW! I can live with cute but not WOW, as WOW tends to make people look at me. He did say that I was a ten (I liked that the best of all things he said) of course, this was in reference to the 11 made famous by Spinal Tap but I’ll take what I can get. Coming from Boy, I consider this the absolute best review he’s ever given me when wearing a skirt/dress.
In any case, the skirt tends to swish and swirl and attract attention anyway - as I was the recipient of yet more whistling today (it’s been happening more and more, and I generally place the blame on the fact that it is now summer so more men are hanging about outside with nothing better to do than check out beautiful women that happen to pass them by, and really, is there a better way to spend your time? I love looking at beautiful things, although mine tend to be more like sunsets, and trees, etc.). But, the skirt also has powers to make it look as if I’m moving more gracefully than I normally do. My football walk has been corrected by four inch heels and a flowing skirt - fabulous! And with the addition of my super-funky glasses, I’m looking much more librarian than linebacker, even though my skirt has the moves of a linebacker, with its constant motion and ready-for-everything attitude.
So… I totally forget how to do most of my job or where I was in all my assignments… I made notes (even tasks for myself in Outlook)… but I’m lost… And also, trying to get used to my new reading glasses (which are an uncharacteristically bright shade of pink with little gems).
Last Friday I moved up in the world. My 2-year term was up for my cell phone provider and I was eligible for a new phone. Yippee! I rushed over to the local provider outlet and checked out some of the phones.
Not much has changed in 2 years, which was a little surprising. There’s more touch screen stuff, and GPS is virtually everywhere now, but other than that, it’s a lot of the same. Nevertheless, I wanted something new.
Read the rest of this entry »
As I’ve had to work some early hours this past week, I’ve had the opportunity to commute with Boy. Boy’s train is more than an hour earlier than mine, causing me to have to wake up super early. That, I do not like. However, I get to walk to the train with Boy and talk to Boy and sit with Boy on the train (most times). That, I like.
It is odd, though, being at work super early. There is no one here but me and the guy in charge (who rarely comes out of his office at this hour), thus the lights are still out, except for the lonely glow escaping my cubicle and the closed-off light of his office. It makes the office feel… melancholy.
Oh well, I’m at work to work, so I should do so…
Ok, I’m kidding, but not really. Know what I mean?
Be good at your job, but don’t do too good of a job… at your job. In other words don’t do things poorly. Do them well, but do not exceed your expectations - or at least those perceived by your manger/co-workers. Not always. I understand there’s a time and a place, and depending on your occupation, things may be different, but be weary of the consequenses.
I, for example, am very good at my job. I perform my tasks well and in an efficient manner. Unfortunately this gets recognized. Not recognized in the good way like, here’s more money. Instead recognized in the way that says, oh, make Boy work on this next… AND this… AND this… and so on. So instead of just performing my intended job, I’m expected to perform mine and help 10 other people with theirs because, well, it seems like I can and that I’m capable of it.
Truth is, I’m not. I work hard to do my own job well. Just because I can do that doesn’t suddenly mean I’m capable of doing more. If I had known this before, maybe I wouldn’t have tried so hard doing my own job so well to begin with?
On the flipside there’s Girl, the overachiever who does her job and everyone else’s because she’s so efficient that if she doesn’t, she’s bored. Pfft!
So, this morning, I was able to successfully transfer the contents of my man-purse to my pockets and backpack. And it was good.
The walk to work was a dream. Still warm, though early in the morning, and I didn’t have to worry about the inconvenience of carrying my jacket around with me.
I neglected one thing. Work.
Apparently the people who facilitate the temperature of the building where I work think negative 345º F is a suitable temperature for indoors. Not surprisingly, and I didn’t realize this until now, I’ll often wear my jacket in the building while working. Now, without my jacket, I’m stuck; cold, and alone. My hands, especially, are freezing making it difficult to type. And that makes it hard to work.
