Just to be clear, I am not (most emphatically not a fan of so-called "reality tv." I think most of those shows are dumber than idiotic and I'm pretty sure those of you who watch them lose at least 1000 brain cells for every 43 minutes of programming.
Yet, even as I offend half (or more) of my tiny reading audience, I'm confessing that there's a kind of "reality tv" show that attracts me.
You all know about last year's Clean House obsession. At a time in my life when I didn't have money to shop, I realized that my little living space was, nevertheless, crammed so full of stuff that it was sometimes difficult to move around. It was the perfect time to stumble across a television show about people cleaning out the stuff in their lives. The show was--inspiration, if you will. (Although the R.C.'s already existent determination to clean the "stuff" out of the storage unit might have had an impact.)
I spent quite a long time destuffifying last summer. Storage, the shelves in my bedroom, the shelves in the living room, the kitchen cabinets, and--last, but certainly not least--my closet. Ruthlessly.
Of course, once I got a job, I went out and bought more clothes. This time, I tried to buy only things I would actually wear. (I can't say I haven't made mistakes. Just--not as many as I used to make.)
And there's my face. I've talked (more than any of you cared to read) about the number of pots and bottles of various lotions I've purchased over the last few months. Each of them promised some magic transformation in my complexion and, while none of them have produced magic, a couple of them have offered up some noticeable results. So, okay there.
Then, flipping around the channels a week or so ago, the R.C. stumbled across yet another transformational reality show. This once (the name temporarily escapes me) is about throwing out people's entire wardrobes and making them buy all new clothes, then giving them hair and make-up makeovers. So, fashion tips, hair tips, and make-up tips, all in one package!
And, you know, crazy people. Last night, one woman working in the LA film industry said she really didn't think appearances mattered that much at work. She thought her "personality" was more important when meeting people professionally. (Yeah, because that's the Hollywood we all know.)
She and at least one other woman admitted to wearing pajamas out in public. They admitted to wearing them when going out to dinner, making me glad neither of them are friends of mine. One of them bitched because she saw a cotton nightgown she liked and she knew the show wouldn't let her buy it to use as a formal gown for black-tie occasions.
! !
This silly woman claimed that her "style" was light-years ahead of its time and said that in 25 years, wearing your pajamas in public would be the trendy thing and, okay, there's no telling what kind of "fashions" will be "in" for the younger generation from any one year to the next but she was 33!
The R.C. claims that she saw this show once before when channel-surfing and they made over a woman who--brace yourself--ran around in public wearing strap-on fairy wings.
Some of these woman are just so ohmigod stupid that I'm surprised they don't have someone following them around reminding them to breathe.* *
I've seen six episodes of the show, now, and I have to say it's making me look at myself differently.
For instance, I realize I need entirely different make-up than what I've been wearing for the past five years. Not only do the age spots need to be lightened, my pores minimized, and my eyebrows waxed, but I need different colors of eyeliner, some eye shadow, and certainly some different base and I should be wearing crème blush, not powder*, and-- I'm going to have to shop! This is sounding expensive, but maybe I'll look fabulous!
For the first time in years, I'm bemoaning Denver's incredibly relaxed version of "business casual." The women on this show look so comfy, yet so polished and professional in dresses with jackets! And pantsuits! Cropped tops tossed over form-fitting camisoles!
Shoes! One woman started her shopping spree with, like, $1000 worth of shoes! I have three pair of "work shoes" and I noticed this morning that one pair has the uppers separating from the soles. I don't know if that can be fixed but even if it can, these sensible trouser shoes are a far cry from those fun and flirty heels that the women on the show are treating themselves to. And the kicky boots! Sulking. I need some kicky boots.
Sigh. I don't have a lot of girly-girl friends. My friends are, like I've always been, happy in the styles they've already chosen, all of which lean toward the quick-and-easy. And yet, I'm deciding these days that just because I'm getting older, doesn't mean I can't play around with my looks.
I need more girly girl friends.
_______________________________
* I don't wear all of that every day. I wear some make-up to the office every day, but I don't wear all of that every day. Just so you know.
It sort of depends on how ugly I am when I wake up each morning, you know? Some days, my face is one, big cry for help.
* * One woman announced that she was "a 7 or an 8." Honestly? She was a three--maybe a four on a good day, when they started working with her. After they finished, she was--in certain outfits and from certain angles--a six. Which still made her look incredibly more intelligent and professional than she was at the start.
I hadn't thought about "the scale" in years and years.
Removed: Remarkably rude digression about "the scale."
On a 10-point scale, a "5" should be average, but that's not how I've heard people (in this country) use it. I don't think I've talked about "the scale" with many people who didn't think they were at least a 7. It's like--people automatically delete the 1-5 part of the range.
People simultaneously say they look "ok" and call themselves a "7" and that only makes sense if they're really using a 6-10 scale, instead of a 1-10 scale.
1 - 5 = so ugly they're invisible
6 = bleah
7 = average
8 = above average
9 = attractive
10 = gorgeous
And, interestingly, the fours and fives I've known who called themselves sevens? Set the bar a lot lower for what constitutes a "10." It's like there's some kind of threshold--beyond which, they simply don't connect. Like there are separate "scales" and people somehow only "see" the others in their own scale. That may be partly what "not my type" is all about?
(At least, for women. I've heard a lot of women dismiss some incredibly attractive man as "too perfect." I wonder if biology restricts our choices to the possible--even if sometimes it's only the remotely possible?) (Men, on the other hand, almost all seem to think they "deserve" a supermodel or a movie star. They're violently attracted to women to whom they have nothing to offer.) (Although, not so much "women" as some vague ideal of femaleness they think the aforesaid supermodels and/or actresses represent.)
(I could offer another digression on the idea of how, as female sexuality becomes more acceptable to our society, women are starting to mimic men in their desire to win a mate far outside their "scale" but I suspect none of you are more bored with the topic than I am at this point. I'm sure there's biology involved in all of it, though. And psychology. And sociology.)
How do I get off on these weird tangents? All I really sat down to say today is that I have a desperate need for some plum-colored eyeliner. It could change my life!
FYI, the R.C. felt that yesterday's last entry was confusing. Too many names, too many people, too many projects. All I can say is that if it was confusing to read about, imagine how confusing it was to actually try and deal with all of that in one day....
Anyhow. Today started better. If snoozing in bed for 30 minutes after my alarm went off, then having to scramble to make it to work on time, and dropping my phone in the process is "better." (Sadly? In Anne's World, this is actually "better.")
And then first hour of actual work went well. No one bothered me and I was able to sit here quietly and get some Real Work done.
And then Vela bothered me because I haven't gotten the 'NutNews stories loaded for the last two issues, so I dropped everything and did that which is fine because it's part of the process and I intended to get it all done anyhow.
And then I went back to my Real Job for a brief, enjoyable interval.
And then the Argonuts Afield, the nationwide locations, started up again.
To begin with, the Bowery Boys, a marketing collective located in a Major Metropolitan Area not unconnected with the Great Lakes region. They've become the bane of our existence. Our marketing collective structure is designed to allow 2-3 individual locations to share one metropolitan area. There are five of the Bowery Boys, and (as any sensible person might expect), we haven't been able to generate enough business to keep them all happy. The Bowery Metro campaign is performing better than any other collective campaign we're running, but it's not performing well enough to support five locations.
Gidget and I have tried, for the past three months and using various tactics, statistics, and sentences composed of very short words, to explain to everyone on the planet that, yes, Bowery Metro is large enough to sustain five locations if the business owners go out and sell or hire outside sales people to bring in business. And we have failed, for three months, to get this simple fact through anyone's head.
The latest solution? Put up six campaigns. One to cover all of them, and one specifically for each location. Which will result in them bidding against themselves for the same 15 leads they're getting now--running up the price but not producing additional business.
We explained this to Vela (using even shorter words) and her opinion is that we need to look like we tried everything, so just do it. If wasting hours of my time and hundreds of dollars of the Bowery Boys money is preferable, in everyone's opinion, to telling them they need to bring in some of their own business, then--fine. Fine. I don't care any more.
Some days, I feel like I'm just drowning in stupid.
I don't think so.
The first blast from YakketyYak, our new, online email provider? Was--not a success. The text came through just fine. The graphics, not so much. I fought with it all day long. Last Wednesday's 'NutNews finally went out fifteen minutes ago. In the end, I had to kluge it--take their html file, add the graphics in, and send it from my Outlook.
Now I'm waiting for Bert, our lackadaisical in-house IT person, to provide me with the phone number and name of someone who can actually help me. (I suspect the problem is in the email settings arranged by the new email provider hosting company.)
The Crazy George Co, the 'experts' who are supposed to be making internet magic for us? Continue to bypass Gidget in favor of baffling Vela with bullshit. Today Vela had a question for them and they passed her along to their Webstrainer rep. We have a Webstrainer rep. We could have gone and asked them the question, but they're not the ones we're paying. We're paying Crazy George Co. (The least they could have done was to ask their Webstrainer rep themselves, don't you think?)
Tomorrow we have to explain to the Northern'Nuts why we're not willing to take on their campaigns, the way we do for the USofA 'Nuts. (It's a different country - with more stringent privacy regulations and stuff. We are not knowledgeable about their laws. Nor do we have time.)
Willie Loman, our former NewLocationsDude, the one who was transferred to marketing when he was switched to national sales? (Don't ask me. We have a sales department, but Willie was turned into Vela's problem anyhow.) Is not producing. Just like he wasn't producing when he was NewLocationsDude.
Jason's response? Was to tell Vela that he was "very disappointed in her."
I'm sorry, but this high-priced employee has now failed in two high-priced positions. Get. A clue. (Hint: The bottle of scotch in his hand might have something to do with it.)
I'm exhausted. My eyes are burning, they're so tired.
And it's still only Monday.
The weekend was--weirdly eventful.
The R.C. and I had breakfast on Saturday. Mmmm. Bacon!
And we chatted about wardrobe needs, frugality*, and the day's shopping plans. Shopping, not buying. We've been having conversations about Work Clothes and decided it's time to change our respective styles. (Or, you know, pick styles.) We're also in the middle of the Great Frugality Plan, so the decision was go to out and try on things we wouldn't normally try on--move out of our comfort zone sort of thing--in order to find some new kind of clothes that might magically make us look young and thin relatively stylish. Just try on. Not buy.
The problem with that sort of plan, of course, is that if you find something new that looks good, you do, in fact, have to buy it. Because it won't be there in three or four months.
$120 later, I have a new purple shirt that will go with two of my purple jackets, a new red shirt with black pinstripes that will go with my red jacket, a black jacket, or alone, a new purple-white-black sweater, and a new pink sleeveless sweater to wear under my new cropped black jacket with the tiny pink spots. Although the color pallet no doubt sounds familiar to anyone who has ever seen me, I promise that at least four of those items are things I would not normally have tried on.
I don't think I've accomplished a new "style" but I have at least expanded my wardrobe to the point that I no longer find myself opening the closet and seeing, "my Monday shirt, my Tuesday shirt, my Wednesday blouse," etc. I can move three of the shirts I've been wearing to work over to the "weekend clothes" side of the closet (where they belong) and, thanks to the chilly temperatures in this office, expand my current wardrobe with all of those jackets I fell in love with a year ago.
And make-up. Yes, I bought more Face Stuff. But not potions and lotions this time. No, this time I spent money on a face "primer" and coordinating base that were supposed to combine to give me "flawless" coverage of exactly the right color. Not. It weighs less on my face than my old stuff, and may even, in its half-hearted attempt at coverage, match my complexion better, but it doesn't cover the ravages* of age the way the other brand does.
So, you know, $35 there.
Saturday was expensive.
I did save $10 a month, but it happened at the expense of my pride. The R.C. needed a new phone and while she was buying it, she signed up for a new 2-year plan. The Wee Child helping her said he could "finagle" her the 65+ discount, even though she didn't qualify (by a long shot) and her phone bill will now be $10 less a month. So, even though I didn't buy a phone, I demanded the same deal and I got it!
Also, less expensively, I voted.
Sunday I cleaned. I cleaned the kitchen reasonably well, including some work on those dingy walls behind the sink and stove. I cleaned the bathroom reasonably well. I did some dusting. I did about half the necessary vacuuming. I would have done all the necessary vacuuming, but at the halfway point, I accidentally sucked up a sock and broke the vacuum.
At that point, I threw up my hands in disgust. I spent the rest of the day playing computer games, reading, or watching mindless television (via DVDs). (Except for later, when I did laundry and ironing.)
I talk a lot about Frugality these days. I'm not sure I ever formally introduced the Six-Month Frugality Plan, but the basic idea was that, starting in April, I'd pay like mad on my bills and see if I could pay off the huge credit card balance I've run up, and do something about the five-digit total on the running list of "money owed to the R.C." **
The SMFP has worked reasonably well. Although I tend to blog more about the money I've spent than the number of things I haven't bought, I have managed to eliminate about 35% of my credit card debt so far. That might not sound like much, but once you start getting the balance down, the less you wind up paying in interest each month, you know. So it's going down faster and faster.
____________________
* Okay, maybe a semi-ravage or two. Don't run away with the idea that I'm cratered and furrowed like a moonscape or anything.
** I used to be very careless about writing regular checks to cover my half of the monthly bills. Also, a time or two when I was unemployed, she loaned me sums of money so I could keep eating and stuff. After a decade or so, that kind of thing starts to add up.
I'm starting to wish I could reboot my life.
Not only was I frightfully late this morning (what is it with me waking up at 8:00, instead of when the alarm goes off at 6:50), but once I got here, things are not--as smooth as one might wish.
From Bert having to be asked 4-5 times to provide me with a file I need (yes, I know he's going through trauma right now, but he's always been lax about filling requests) in order to send out last Wednesday's 'NutNews some time today, to having to reboot because Excel went psycho, to having my computer repeatedly lock up as it looks for the new printer, to TeamChaos discovering that we cannot magically throw an armload of "keywords" at this nebulous thing called "the internet" and--presto!--we have traffic and leads forty-two seconds later, well, it's another "why did I bother to chew through the restraints" week already. And it's only 10:00 on Monday morning.
Upon being told that it would take 30 days (hah!) to get new web pages up and then at least 30 more days for the intarwebs to notice that we've changed our content for the first time in two years, our own personal ChaosManager, Vela, announced that this timeline was "unacceptable." We're still waiting to hear how she thinks we can do something different.
Gossip! Gidget heard from a business friend this weekend who asked her if it was true, what he heard, that Jason had been replaced. ! And, can I add, ! ! !.
Further bulletins as events warrant.
I had just made it out of the parking lot and onto the street this morning, when I realized I'd left my lunch sitting on the counter. I went back and dashed up the stairs to grab it. I tripped (yes, I fell up, the stairs) and my foot has been hurting all day.
Also, I realized about an hour ago that I forgot half my makeup this morning, so I look scary.
So not worth it this week.
Thursday
Upon being shown the new 'NutNews template, something that did not happen until around noon, when I personally tracked down CEOJason and asked him to go look at it, CEOJason pronounced the New Look "wussy."
I spent four hours on a massive dewussification project, attempting to make the turquoise logo that my own personal ChaosManager, Vela, had given me look more manly. I showed the dewussified result to Vela and she decided she liked the original template from YakketyYak better.
So, four hours of my life I'll never get back.
The necessary files to create this specific newsletter started landing on my desk around 1:15. (You know the files I mean. The ones Vela swore would be in my hands by 5:00 Monday or, failing that, 9:00 Tuesday morning at all costs.) The last one arrived at 4:21pm. With a note from Vela, blithely asking me to put this story in first place.
(Have I bitched about that yet? The one thing that's really, really complicated is changing the order of stories once the newsletter is coded. You can make all the text changes you want, add or remove graphics, create click-throughs, anything you need. What you should not do is request that Story #1 become Story #3 and Story #6 become Story #2 and this New Story now become Story #1. It messes up everything. So, naturally, TeamChaos makes at least one such request for every issue of the 'NutNews.)
I fought the new template to make the necessary code tweaks. I need to get the basic template locked down, so I can make actually inserting stories a "cut-and-paste" process, so I can hand the entire mess over to DebLor in reception and making doing the 'NutNews their problem every two weeks.
In my spare time, I changed the past news stories display in the company intranet. Because the Wednesday newsletter will not be going out until Friday (if I'm lucky), there's no new story available for the intranet home page on Friday morning. I extend Thursday's rather boring story to display for another day.
1-1/2 hours of my life is lost to a conference call with one of our collective marketing groups who are in constant turmoil because their internet campaign does not produce the results they want. The biggest problem is that there are five of them in a fifteen mile radius. Nothing I can do to the Magic Internets will change the fact that there are too many of them for the territory. They bitch, moan, and whine, but stop short of agreeing that the location that receives 70% of the leads should pay 70% of the cost of the campaign. Eventually I promise reports, analysis, miracles--whatever it takes to get me off the phone.
I do not say that one ignorant lunatic amongst them went into their campaign and eliminated half their territory, so they're not getting all the leads they're entitled to, and this is a big part of their problem.
Friday
I came in and dove right into getting the 'NutNews ready to send out. Fixed the code issues. Settled the template. By 10:00, I was finally ready to start editing the content. (No matter how many ChaosManagers review it, there are always typos and stuff remaining.)
Then I get called into Vela's office to rehash yesterday's unproductive conference call. She wants to send this group all the information in the world so they can be "informed." I point out that I spent two solid days providing them with all the information in the world last month. And that, while they're entitled to all of their information, they are not entitled to everyone else's beyond the kind of numbers they can use to benchmark the performance of their campaign.
I don't precisely win the argument but since I'm the only one in the building who knows how to get to all the data, or what it actually means once you get to it, there's little she can do without my cooperation, and I have other priorities today.
'NutNews. Remember, Vela? I have to get the 'NutNews out today.
A task that was not simplified by the online email provider's site going down half an hour ago.
It's not even noon.
The person for whom I covered lunchtime phone duty on Monday? Who was supposed to take my "shift" today? Took the day off.
Posted by AnneZook at 11:17 AM | Comments (0)Monday
When I met our IT guy, Bert, he was a happy man with a pretty, bubbly wife and two wonderful children. A couple of months back (no one is quite sure when) (or why), his wife started doing drugs. I don't know what, but something pretty hard, because she went from a normal 23 year-old to an emaciated crone in just a couple of months.
She died over the weekend. The official line is "we don't have many details yet" but the assumption is that it was a drug overdose.
TeamChaos and the onsite Argonuts were predictably subdued after the announcement.
The Argonuts Afield were not informed but clearly there was something unsettling in their own morning kool-aid because various and sundry of them called up freaking and squeaking about their marketing campaigns. Internet marketing produces about 55% of their monthly business. They persist in demanding 100%, no matter how carefully we explain the stupidity of that kind of thinking.
And they persist in believing that if they shout loud enough, go over our heads to complain about us to TeamChaos often enough, and call Gidget enough bad names, they will get what they want. By the end of the day, Gidget and I are both battered and bruised.
Tuesday
The company-wide biorhythm trough continued, as yesterday's Argonuts Afield (and a few new 'Nuts for good measure) continued to call and demand that we produce the impossible with no money or resources.
While I privately agree with them that our internet marketing efforts could be working better, I also know that the Next Level Plan that Gidget and I produced five or six months ago laid out, very clearly, precisely what we needed to make it happen.
After months of waffling, Jason finally hired the Crazy George Company as "consultants" to tell us--wait for it--what we need to do to improve our internet marketing efforts!
Once Gidget had talked me down off the ledge, I agreed that as long as they got us the tools and improvements we needed, I could decide not to care that Jason hired an outside company to tell him exactly what we told him--and he believed them where he didn't believe us.
I can't seem to stop minding that they were hired a month ago and all they've produced so far is confusion and delay. Although the agreement was that they'd work directly with Gidget, as the manager of all our internet marketing efforts and our onsite "expert," they continue to bypass her in favor of working with our own personal ChaosManager, Vela, who knows nothing about internet marketing and is already doing the work of 2-1/2 people, leaving her no time to really understand the value (or, otherwise) (most emphatically otherwise) of some of the things they say we "need" to do.
I think the problem started with the introductory meeting, when they were trying to baffle the 'Nuts with bullshit and I kept interrupting to translate their jargon into English. They seem to feel that Gidget and I are hostile, when we're really just unwilling (and unable) to spend time on things we've already tried and know won't work, or being patronized by someone more worried about impressing us as an "expert" than in producing results.
Anyhow, what with this 'Nut saying he was going to close his doors unless we drive 100% of his business to him with no effort on his part (and, by the way, he's only willing to spend 1/3 of what it would take to drive any business), and another 'Nut saying we were being "vindictive" by not giving him the all-powerful administrator login that would allow him to view not only his own data, but everyone else's, and another 'Nut calling to scream and call names because we can't force the internet to behave the way he thinks it should behave, it was kind of a rough day. Again.
Wednesday
Thanks to the YakketyYak email company taking eight days to produce our new email template instead of the three days they promised, we didn't received the draft of the design until yesterday.
I've already had to tell Vela (twice!) that no, we cannot both make changes to the design and use it for this week's newsletter. We either use it as is, or give YakkektyYak a reasonable 2-3 days to make changes and use it next time.
And, BTW, where are my 'NutNews files? It's 10:00 on Wednesday morning and I haven't seen a single piece of this week's newsletter yet.
Gidget and I had a lunch date with OpieGirl, but she didn't show, so we spend the hour bitching and moaning instead. I think it did us good.
Pardon me if I'm misremembering, but isn't this new, low-paying job supposed to be providing me with a nearly stress-free lifestyle?
I hate when that happens. 2:45 on Thursday afternoon of the week when I'm "free" to work on my actual job and abruptly I was just--over it. Bored with it all.
I read the news headlines until I was sick of them, read blogs until all the opinions were starting to blur in my mind, checked out all the polls (no new information), watched the Twitter election feed until I was dizzy, played the "How Many Countries" game (64), checked my personal email (four times), and still had two hours to kill until I could go home. I was almost desperate enough to start playing computer games, but not quite. (The ones I have on this computer are all mind-numbingly boring anyhow.)
I browsed "how to save money to use to pay off your debt sites" for a while, until I realized I'm already doing all of those things that I intend to do (pay cash, cancel unneeded services like land lines, stop eating out frequently, think twice--then three times--before spending money on "wanna have" items) and that nothing anyone can say is going to make me do any of the other steps they recommend (cook all my meals from scratch instead of buying prepared food, cancel the cable tv service and lose access to the only 2-3 channels with shows I actually watch).
I started to go look at--something. I forget what, because when the browser window came up, my familiar, useful iGoogle page had been replaced with some kind of evil alien clone.
!!
Some evil, alien clone-maker at Google decided that the real estate on a computer monitor was wasted on, you know, things people want to be able to read, so they moved the tabs from the top of the page to the side--squishing up the original content to make room. (Tabs at the top - approx 1/2" of space in a horizontal strip. Tabs at the side - approx 2-1/2" of real estate all down the left-hand side of the screen.)
Naturally that pissed me off, so I went looking for some kind of anti-alien clone weapon (or, code) to use against the evil programmers who thought they were entitled to make any changes they wanted to their own product.
Voila! A mere one hour and fifteen minutes later, I have my old iGoogle back and only another 45 minutes to kill before I can go home!
Some days, I'm almost embarrassed to take money for sitting here.
I thought I was creating, using my empty Altoids tins for straight pins and stuff. Turns out I haven't even scratched the surface of what's possible.
Posted by AnneZook at 08:32 AM | Comments (1)Rereading entry, prior to posting.... Deleting ridiculously boring bits.... Removing repetitive items....
Oh, well. (This is why I never edit.)
Some days, I just feel chatty.
Wednesday morning, I threw my coffee cup at someone. It was an accident (and it was empty), but I'll bet she remembers from now on to wait until I've had coffee before bothering me in the mornings.
I got a name plate! I'm not sure I see the point of name plates when you live in cube-world, but it's a sign that they have accepted that I'm going to be here for a while. I don't have an Official Shirt or an Official Name Pin yet, but I'm told those are coming.
I've taken a certain amount of abuse for not taking the name plate out of the plastic. I explained to DebLor that I wanted to remain "pristine" but Gidget overheard and made vulgar remarks. Hmph.
No phone duty today! In some odd way I don't understand, the in-house picnic means that DebLor doesn't need to be relieved at lunch. I guess she's just going to carry the phone with her or something.
Anyhow.
Tomorrow's supposed to be glorious again. The R.C. and I have decided to wend our way back out to Southlands, the new "walking mall" we tried a few weeks ago. I need an Origins store--I read about some fantabulous face cream that I must buy. She wants to.... I don't remember. There was something she wanted. And we're going to try one of the restaurants we saw last time--maybe the crepes place, if I can talk her into it. Crepes! I haven't had crepes in ten years.
Sunday, of course, I will be doing laundry, cleaning house, studying for my certification, and working on my campaign reorganization plan.
Or, you know, reading one of my new books.
Or struggling through LostMagic, my newest DS game. It's a good game with a minimal but interesting storyline, but each stage is timed, and I'm having trouble getting through it in the time allotted. (Really annoying? The necessity of sitting through the programmed story dialogue every time I fail a task and have to retry.) The R.C. loaned me Lego Indiana Jones and I finished it last week. It was one of the most amusing games I've tried in a while.
I've been cleaning out my games and I have a bag full to get rid of. I guess I can turn them in to the game store for credit (they give you $1 a game). Most of them are ones I tried and never really fell in love with. It's a pity I don't know anyone who might like them. Maybe I'll ask my niece, Rapunzel, if she's interested in any of them. I'm not sure how big of an RPG fan she is.
45 minutes until mandatory fun. I guess I'll go do some work.
P.S. We're getting off early today, too!
It's been a randomly eventful commuter week.
During Monday morning's commute, I watched a bicyclist attempt suicide. (Note: Riding down the sidewalk instead of on the road does keep you away from cars. But it also insures that drivers will not see you when you decide to ride through a red light. You were very lucky.)
During Tuesday morning's commute, I was happy to discover that they have finished the road work on my direct route to work. Why they only had one southbound lane open, I don't know, but it cut my commute time in half. I've been oversleeping a lot recently, so the return of the Ten Minute Commute was quite welcome.
During Wednesday afternoon's homeward commute, I was dismayed and appalled to discover that they have now closed the northbound lanes of my preferred route. I got to work easily, but getting home took longer.
During Thursday afternoon's homeward commute which, owing to my extreme dedication (and inattention to the clock), I was making ten minutes later than my normal time? I discovered that the closing of the northbound route meant that when rush hour traffic really got started, it--stopped. Then backed up and stacked up for five or six blocks in every direction. Due to a weird combination of events not unrelated to the presence or absence of turn lanes on various roads and a significant miasma of Driver Psychosis hanging over the entire area, I drove in circles for a while, trying to get to a road that would lead me home, then wound up heading back southbound until I could get to the interstate at a place a mile or two south of my office. With one or two more narrow misses caused by other escapees from the traffic jam, I finally arrived home--40 minutes after I'd left the office.
This morning, I neither overslept nor ran into massive traffic, but I'm looking ahead to this evening's commute with a certain amount of trepidation.
It's been a randomly strange food week.
For Monday lunch, I ate more of the leftover Chinese food from Friday. When I got home that evening, I put the rest of it down the disposal. It may have been a coincidence, but my stomach was upset all Monday afternoon.
Yesterday I had a desperate, really desperate need to go to the bookstore. I saw a book last week that I wanted but did not buy. I've been thinking about it ever since, so I went and bought it. (I read it last night and it was depressing, so that was a waste of $6.) I bought another book and two magazines at the same time. Then I needed food and, for reasons I may never understand, I found myself at McDonald's. I never eat at McDonald's. I'm just not a fan. But I was in a hurry, Wendy's was a traffic jam away, I had only a little cash left on me, and there was no one in the drive-through line, so I went to McDonald's.
Did you know that they have this thing called a "dollar menu"? I was going to get a small cheeseburger and French fries, but it turns out that for $1, I could get a "double cheeseburger." (For another $1, I could have gotten a "small fries" as well, but I knew I couldn't eat that much.) I got lunch for $1.07! I hate to think of how many calories and how much fat were in the burger. (I think this is why poor people are so often overweight. Cheap food is anything but healthy.)
Last night I decided to be a bit more restrained. Wednesday, I'd chopped up some ripe Early Girl tomatoes and tossed them in with some minced garlic and onion, a bit of basil, and some olive oil. (I had no plans for this mishmash of ingredients. I just had all of them and thought that if I mixed them together, I'd figure out a way to use them.)
I drained a packaged of pre-cooked chicken and heated it with a tiny bit of olive oil (and, let's be honest, a couple of teaspoons of butter). Then I dumped in the tomato mixture and let it all simmer for fifteen minutes. I boiled up some spaghetti, tossed it with the resulting weirdly pink mixture, splashed on black pepper, and actually ate it. It--had potential. Next time I'll put the garlic, onion, and spices in to cook with the chicken, then stir in the diced tomatoes just before eating. Also, it needed pine nuts. And maybe a recipe or at least someone who knows how to cook to add or subtract additional ingredients.
It's been a randomly unusual work week.
One of the receptionists--two women job-share this position and I'm never really sure which of them is which, so for convenience, we'll refer to the combination as DebLor--got the flu this week. The other DebLor was unable to cover all of the hours, so those of us who do regular phone relief were asked to pull extra "shifts" on Wednesday
Which is fine, for those of us who have jobs that can be done other than at our desks, but that doesn't include me. I wrote the R.C. a letter (I'm practicing writing with my right hand. I don't know why.) and then tidied up the reception desk area. Then I got bored, so I wrote weird and unlikely tasks and occupations next to everyone's names on the In/Out board.
When (the un-sick) DebLor got back to the office the next morning, she found it funny, which was what I intended. She also showed it to half the people in the office, which was not.
When I Receptioned on Wednesday, I put out chocolate for the office candy dish again. Only two people came by but I made them both take candy and promise that they liked me more for providing good treats. (People always insist that they already like me, but I'm pretty sure they like me more when I feed them chocolate.)
This afternoon is the in-office party that's replacing the company picnic this year. They're threatening us with promising us games.
Hmmm, what else? I've almost finished end of month reporting for September. I've almost completed getting the new bulk email service up and running. I should be able to use it for the Argonut News issue that comes out on the 22nd. (TeamChaos has an idea that we'll switch to one issue of the 'NutNews each month and they'll produce a multimedia powerpoint/audio presentation of other information once a month, in place of the second 'NutNuts issue. I'm staying far away from this insanity.)
I spent an hour working over a retirement spreadsheet, satisfying myself that the little dab of money I have is enough to live on, with social security, as long as I'm willing to die at 70. Open enrollment for the 401k here is coming up. The match is something pathetic--1-1/2 percent or something--but it's free money, right?
Oh! Speaking of money! I got a surprising email from Vela! She said if I get to studying and get my certification by the end of this month, then she would want to talk to me about a salary increase! I almost fell off my chair, I was so astonished.
And now, of course, I feel a guilty. I haven't been studying for the certification exam this past week. A couple of evenings I was too tired, so I just read a book. A couple of other evenings, I was busy with a massive plan I'm putting together to completely reorganize all of the advertising campaigns.
I'll study this weekend. The promise of a raise (even if it turns out to be small) should be all the incentive I need, right? Even if the campaign reorganization is much more interesting, involving, as it does, multiple spreadsheets and colored charts and, if I play my cards right, colored pens.
I approached Gidget about this. I knew she had something to do with the raise idea since she also knows, and has said multiple times, that they hired me for 'way too little money. I had no idea, though, until I talked to her that she'd told Vela that she, Gidget, would be happy to forego a raise this year as long as I got one.
I don't deserve my friends.
I'm not making any new blog posts until someone pretends to like my new shoes.
Posted by AnneZook at 10:24 AM | Comments (2)