Typically I avoid talking about work
Today I deviate because things are changing for me.
I am leaving my current job for a new one. My last day sitting in this cube, staring at this MacBook will be next Monday.
I will start my new job, in a new cube, with a (GASP) PC! Goodbye user friendly Apple. Hello laptop with a working delete key!
I will be starting my new job on December 7th. I’m excited, nervous, sad and anxious all at the same time. The new agency is right down the street so I’m hoping I can still meet my friends for lunch, while fearful I might arrive at the wrong building in my pre-caffeinated morning drive.
I think it’s time for a trip down memory lane (names have been ommitted to protect me).
The interesting characters I’ve worked with:
The sleeper – he was a huge guy who would actually fall asleep at his desk. After he got in trouble for that, he would go into a conference room and fall asleep. He would sleep so soundly that he would snore!
The entry-level guy that thought he was smarter than the president of the company. It was overheard that he walked into the president’s office and laid down an agenda for how our office should operate. If I remember correctly, a reader of this blog had a thing for him.
The one guy that walked around with ipod ear buds in his ears to try and mask what he was really doing—eavesdropping. He would wear the same vest to work every day and it stunk. I think they found a lot of porn on his computer after he was fired.
One guy, had his kids in daycare at the same place as his boss that had just gotten let go. One day he saw his ex-boss at daycare. Rather than talk to him, he RAN away. I mean physically ran.
Of course there were the two that had a secret love affair that lasted several years. The secret only ended when they got engaged.
Oh and the things people wore, from the too tight and exposed to the overly adorned. One person came to work with a hairpiece that was reminiscent of Cindy Lauper, circa 1982. Then there was the barely there outfit, a very loose, sheer, patterned blouse that wasn't opaque enough to hide the fact that she wasn't wearing a bra. Is that part of the pattern? Nope, that was a nipple. Couple that top with some extremely short shorts and I knew I'd never have to worry about a dress code.
Then there were the names we gave our small communities within cube land:
BOOBs – It’s an acronym, I promise.
Hoe Row
The Cell Block
Bitch Row
There has been so much in the past 5 years that I can't remember all of it now. Needless to say, I’m going to miss them all! I only hope my new work family will be half as dysfunctional.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Update
Husband thought I had to rat myself out.
Not two days after this post that launched into a tangent, I found myself back at the grocery store. I was examining the wrapping paper and couldn't believe how cheap it was. So I bought some.
Yes, I bought two rolls of wrapping paper a good two weeks before thanksgiving.
It was only $1.00 and it had snowmen on it!
Not two days after this post that launched into a tangent, I found myself back at the grocery store. I was examining the wrapping paper and couldn't believe how cheap it was. So I bought some.
Yes, I bought two rolls of wrapping paper a good two weeks before thanksgiving.
It was only $1.00 and it had snowmen on it!
Monday, November 16, 2009
Cat vs Dog
On the weekends, I'm typically the first one awake. On this typical Saturday, I got up and went about my routine, making coffee, letting the sleepy dog outside and petting the cat. The cat is always happy to see anyone in the morning, purring emphatically. The dog, on the other hand, watches me closely to see if I really INTEND to get up. Not until I have gone downstairs and gone to the bathroom without returning to bed, does Sammy decide it is ok to abandon the warm nest she's made and follow me downstairs.
On this particular morning, the dog had already gone out and come back in, only to reclaim her warm spot next to the sleeping husband upstairs. Franklin, who relishes in the quiet morning routine was so cute that I couldn't resist making him a treat. I got out a can of wet food for him. He HEARTS wet food—runs around the kitchen and makes noises that are a weird combination of purrs and meows.
I sat the food down for him to enjoy, barely coming away with 10 fingers intact, and head into the living room to enjoy my own treat—warm coffee and quiet time.
Sitting on the couch, to the left of the tv I can see into the kitchen, to the right of the TV is the stairway to the bedroom. In the kitchen I can see Franklin wolfing down his favorite snack. I turn on the TV as I pick up my yarn and current crochet project. It was only a minute later when I noticed Franklin leaving the kitchen, passing in front of the TV, and head upstairs. I thought this was a little fast, even considering the voracity at which he was attacking the food, but I shrugged it off. It wasn't a full minute later before I heard stirring upstairs.
Thump, Thump, Thump, Thump was the sound of Franklin quickly taking the steps back downstairs. He passes in front of me and makes his way back into the kitchen as I crochet away.
Then the scratch of Sammy's nails on the floor as she stretches, yawns and shakes her ears thwack, thwack, thwack. She makes her way down the stairs, passes in front of me and follows the cats path into the kitchen.
I look up from my project and notice the cat is back at his dish, eating more of his treat. The dog, as she has been trained to do, doesn't disturb the cat, instead she sits pitifully nearby, waiting for her turn to have at the cat's wet food.
I stop for a second and realize what just happened. The cat stopped eating to go upstairs, wake up the dog and taunt her that he had food downstairs. POOR SAMMY.
On this particular morning, the dog had already gone out and come back in, only to reclaim her warm spot next to the sleeping husband upstairs. Franklin, who relishes in the quiet morning routine was so cute that I couldn't resist making him a treat. I got out a can of wet food for him. He HEARTS wet food—runs around the kitchen and makes noises that are a weird combination of purrs and meows.
I sat the food down for him to enjoy, barely coming away with 10 fingers intact, and head into the living room to enjoy my own treat—warm coffee and quiet time.
Sitting on the couch, to the left of the tv I can see into the kitchen, to the right of the TV is the stairway to the bedroom. In the kitchen I can see Franklin wolfing down his favorite snack. I turn on the TV as I pick up my yarn and current crochet project. It was only a minute later when I noticed Franklin leaving the kitchen, passing in front of the TV, and head upstairs. I thought this was a little fast, even considering the voracity at which he was attacking the food, but I shrugged it off. It wasn't a full minute later before I heard stirring upstairs.
Thump, Thump, Thump, Thump was the sound of Franklin quickly taking the steps back downstairs. He passes in front of me and makes his way back into the kitchen as I crochet away.
Then the scratch of Sammy's nails on the floor as she stretches, yawns and shakes her ears thwack, thwack, thwack. She makes her way down the stairs, passes in front of me and follows the cats path into the kitchen.
I look up from my project and notice the cat is back at his dish, eating more of his treat. The dog, as she has been trained to do, doesn't disturb the cat, instead she sits pitifully nearby, waiting for her turn to have at the cat's wet food.
I stop for a second and realize what just happened. The cat stopped eating to go upstairs, wake up the dog and taunt her that he had food downstairs. POOR SAMMY.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Running Fodder
The fall means many things for me, football, leaves falling, dealing with colder weather and a reintroduction to running. How is it that during the skin baring summer months, the season of bare shoulders and short skirts, I don’t workout? Maybe its that I don’t have a need to rev up my internal temperature until there is a chill in the air. Or, I’m freaked out by the fast approaching 6-mile race I have to run on Thanksgiving.
4 years ago Monkers and I started a tradition—to run in the Turkey Trot, a 10K race that takes place on Thanksgiving Day. I love this tradition! Every year, I spend the night at her house and we get up early to head downtown. We meet up with about 12,000 other people wait anxiously. The energy and excitement is palpable. Everyone’s breath is visible as the people cram together, jogging in place to keep their bodies warmed up. When the gunshot does finally crack through the crisp air, it’s still a good four minutes before those of us in the 10 min. mile group cross the starting line. The first mile is adrenaline packed—tying not to get run over or trip on the ankles of the person in front of you. By the middle of the race, I’m usually fading. This is when I start thinking about all the turkey dinner I’m going to wolf down later that day without guilt. What other motivation do you need?
After I cross the finish line, the endorphins overflow. If the thought of food doesn’t get me through the race, the runners high at the end will. After sifting through the crowds, searching each other out, we head to the bar for a celebratory drink with the 12,000 other finishers. You may be sweaty and gross, but so is everyone else at the bar at 10:30 AM on Thanksgiving.
So here I am, November 10th, I’m in a familiar “oh shit” spot. I’ve gotten back into running over the past month, but I’m still not comfortable with my pace or endurance.
I’m realizing how close the race is and how little I’ve actually exercised in the past 6… no 9 months.
Each weekend, I’m increasing my distance, while working on short runs during the week. This past weekend was four miles. I donned my typical outerwear and headed to the trail to run. My typical outdoor running gear is made up of several layers of clothing, my ipod, cell phone for safety and my keys. All of this and only ONE tiny pocket in the wrist of my long-sleeved shirt. My ipod is at home in an armband that is quickly loosing elasticity. My cell phone and keys were battling for the small pocket. Only one would fit and my cell phone was just about the perfect size. What about my keys? I thought about leaving the phone behind and putting the keys in the pocket. But no, have I learned nothing from Stephanie? Instead, I looped the key ring around my thumb and carried them in my fist. “It’ll work like a weight,” I thought, “burning more calories.”
Off I go.
Wait… Did I mention it was 70 degrees and sunny this weekend? I was wearing multiple layers, the outermost being a long sleeve shirt. This shirt was the ONLY thing that had a pocket in it. Another rationalization “I’ll burn more calories if I sweat more”. Well two miles in, I was dying. It was SO HOT and because there aren’t any leaves for shade, the sunlight created a strobe affect, blinking through skinny tree trunks as I ran past.
Around halfway, I decided to stop, strip off the offending top layer, and tie it around my waist. I was immediately cooler, but then my phone in the sleeve pocket, acted like a weight, pulling the shirt and consequently my pants down, all while thwacking me in the leg with each stride.
And so I ran the remaining two miles with each sleeve in either hand to keep my pants up and stop the thwacking. My keys were still in my right hand and my armband threatening to fall of my left arm. Obviously, I am not accustom to running in warm weather.
Here’s to being better prepared for five miles!
4 years ago Monkers and I started a tradition—to run in the Turkey Trot, a 10K race that takes place on Thanksgiving Day. I love this tradition! Every year, I spend the night at her house and we get up early to head downtown. We meet up with about 12,000 other people wait anxiously. The energy and excitement is palpable. Everyone’s breath is visible as the people cram together, jogging in place to keep their bodies warmed up. When the gunshot does finally crack through the crisp air, it’s still a good four minutes before those of us in the 10 min. mile group cross the starting line. The first mile is adrenaline packed—tying not to get run over or trip on the ankles of the person in front of you. By the middle of the race, I’m usually fading. This is when I start thinking about all the turkey dinner I’m going to wolf down later that day without guilt. What other motivation do you need?
After I cross the finish line, the endorphins overflow. If the thought of food doesn’t get me through the race, the runners high at the end will. After sifting through the crowds, searching each other out, we head to the bar for a celebratory drink with the 12,000 other finishers. You may be sweaty and gross, but so is everyone else at the bar at 10:30 AM on Thanksgiving.
So here I am, November 10th, I’m in a familiar “oh shit” spot. I’ve gotten back into running over the past month, but I’m still not comfortable with my pace or endurance.
I’m realizing how close the race is and how little I’ve actually exercised in the past 6… no 9 months.
Each weekend, I’m increasing my distance, while working on short runs during the week. This past weekend was four miles. I donned my typical outerwear and headed to the trail to run. My typical outdoor running gear is made up of several layers of clothing, my ipod, cell phone for safety and my keys. All of this and only ONE tiny pocket in the wrist of my long-sleeved shirt. My ipod is at home in an armband that is quickly loosing elasticity. My cell phone and keys were battling for the small pocket. Only one would fit and my cell phone was just about the perfect size. What about my keys? I thought about leaving the phone behind and putting the keys in the pocket. But no, have I learned nothing from Stephanie? Instead, I looped the key ring around my thumb and carried them in my fist. “It’ll work like a weight,” I thought, “burning more calories.”
Off I go.
Wait… Did I mention it was 70 degrees and sunny this weekend? I was wearing multiple layers, the outermost being a long sleeve shirt. This shirt was the ONLY thing that had a pocket in it. Another rationalization “I’ll burn more calories if I sweat more”. Well two miles in, I was dying. It was SO HOT and because there aren’t any leaves for shade, the sunlight created a strobe affect, blinking through skinny tree trunks as I ran past.
Around halfway, I decided to stop, strip off the offending top layer, and tie it around my waist. I was immediately cooler, but then my phone in the sleeve pocket, acted like a weight, pulling the shirt and consequently my pants down, all while thwacking me in the leg with each stride.
And so I ran the remaining two miles with each sleeve in either hand to keep my pants up and stop the thwacking. My keys were still in my right hand and my armband threatening to fall of my left arm. Obviously, I am not accustom to running in warm weather.
Here’s to being better prepared for five miles!
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
PIcture Pages
With all the requests for chocolate and crocheted thingamajigs, I've got to get busy. Instead of a lengthy post - a picture recap of the week.
Halloween is always a dress up occasion for the fam. Husband and I were a Tea Bag and Dirty Sanchez. Not real classy but real funny.
Biscuit definitely wins this year for best costume. She was Mrs. Pac Man and Nick Nick was a superhero.
Then came Sunday - the day of cleaning. For some reason we had a ton of boxes around. As they were gathered in the living room, Franklin discovered them. He was overwhelmed with joy. Which box was the best? He spent all day trying them all out. Almost made me not want to throw them away.
(yes, two of those boxes are cases of wine!)
And then, the icing on my week. Husband treated me to an unexpected delivery at work. Bright spot in my gray cube.
Halloween is always a dress up occasion for the fam. Husband and I were a Tea Bag and Dirty Sanchez. Not real classy but real funny.
Biscuit definitely wins this year for best costume. She was Mrs. Pac Man and Nick Nick was a superhero.
Then came Sunday - the day of cleaning. For some reason we had a ton of boxes around. As they were gathered in the living room, Franklin discovered them. He was overwhelmed with joy. Which box was the best? He spent all day trying them all out. Almost made me not want to throw them away.
(yes, two of those boxes are cases of wine!)
And then, the icing on my week. Husband treated me to an unexpected delivery at work. Bright spot in my gray cube.
Monday, November 2, 2009
Consumerism Rant
I was at the grocery story for lunch today. You know what I saw? Christmas wrapping paper. My guess is that it showed up BEFORE Halloween.
I have heard others say the season gets earlier and earlier every year, but I couldn't believe my eyes. Part of me thinks it has to do with the economy. Retailers are looking for any special event to encourage historically high purchasing.
It all stinks of desperation. This could be my empty wallet talking, or the cynicism of knowing what really drives marking campaigns, but consumerism has gotten out of hand. Take Easter for example. WTF is up with kids getting PRESENTS on easter? A basket of candy isn't enough to look forward t? Now there are PRESENTS in the baskets. What's next, presents on Thanksgiving to show how thankful we are for each other? Oh the money!!
Its official, everyone is getting a homemade present this year. If I were you, I'd get your request in for some type of candy or cookie otherwise you'll end up with a crappy crochet thingamajig.
I have heard others say the season gets earlier and earlier every year, but I couldn't believe my eyes. Part of me thinks it has to do with the economy. Retailers are looking for any special event to encourage historically high purchasing.
It all stinks of desperation. This could be my empty wallet talking, or the cynicism of knowing what really drives marking campaigns, but consumerism has gotten out of hand. Take Easter for example. WTF is up with kids getting PRESENTS on easter? A basket of candy isn't enough to look forward t? Now there are PRESENTS in the baskets. What's next, presents on Thanksgiving to show how thankful we are for each other? Oh the money!!
Its official, everyone is getting a homemade present this year. If I were you, I'd get your request in for some type of candy or cookie otherwise you'll end up with a crappy crochet thingamajig.
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