There was a time not very long ago when my boss and I were both a bit overwhelmed. We were terribly understaffed, we were drowning in mounds of paperwork, we had management staff throwing us overboard every chance they had and we felt like our days would never end. We used to play a game every day. I called it, “Tell Me Good News”. (I’m not gonna’ lie – I stole the line from the movie Speed. Say what you will, it’s one of my favorite crappy movies EVER and I watch it every single time it’s on cable.)
Things have been going better at work for us. Our office is pretty well staffed (fingers crossed that saying that doesn’t jinx us and bring about a mass exodus Monday…), the paperwork has been filed or otherwise “handled”, and management seems to have decided we’re not total idiots or they’re too busy to notice that we’re still idiots sometimes. Since things have calmed down we haven’t played the game and I’ve realized that I rarely stop and think about things I’m grateful for or things that make me happy, or hell, things that make my day slightly less sucky.
So, I want to start playing “Tell Me Good News” again. I want to make sure that I notice at least ONE good thing each day rather than only bitching about the bad things. My hope is that some of you may want to play, too. The rules are very simple. Anyone can play and all you need to do is list one good thing that you did or saw or heard or read about today. You can ABSOLUTELY add more than one, but you need to have at least one. Any questions so far?
I’ll start:
1) I LOVE my Wii Fit! LOVE it. I never thought I’d enjoy exercising and for once, I really, really do.
2) This week, I’ve cooked fish and eaten hummus for the first time and turns out? Really good! I like them both and I’m looking forward to trying more new foods that are better for me than the crap I normally eat.
3) One more – According to Google Reader, SEVEN people read this dribble on a semi-regular basis. 7! That just makes me so happy that at least 7 people pretend to give a rat’s ass about my blatherings. Thanks, guys!
Ok, I’m looking forward to seeing your responses. Don’t leave me hanging!
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Monday, January 19, 2009
Hell Yeah to the Chief
So, one of my job duties is to cover for the receptionist’s breaks and lunches one week each month. I’m not exactly a fan of the receptionist and I find her to be annoying as all hell, BUT, she is pretty good at her job and she hasn’t gone on a massive killing spree, which frankly, I find shocking. If I had to answer those goddamn phones all day, every day, I’d be shooting people. A lot.
Anyway, so this week is my week. Typically, the hour I’m covering consists of a whole bunch of irritating people who call and say,
“Did you just call me?” Nope. No, I did not.
“Well, this number just showed up on my caller ID.”
“Did the caller leave you a message?” I ask as politely as possible.
“No.”
“Then, I’m not sure who called sir/ma’am. We have approximately 350 employees here. It could have been anyone.”
“Well, what did they want?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know who called you. I’m sure they’ll call back if it was important.”
“Well, what kind of company is this?”
“It’s an ambulance transport service.”
“Well, what do you do?”
“Um, transport people by ambulance.” (I thought that was clear, but whatever.)
“Well, why are you calling me?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t call you.”
“Well, who did?”
You get the idea…
There are also a lot of hang ups and “sorry, wrong number”. Occasionally, there’s a recorded message call. Sometimes I’ll listen to them, because I am bored when I’m covering the front desk, but usually I disconnect. One came in today. It started out the same as the regular recorded messages:
“Hello, please stay on the line for an important message. The following is a text message sent to you from 2-1-6-5-5-5-blah, blah, blah…”
I was about to hang up, but I stayed on because Chatty von Chatterstein was walking by and I knew she’d stop to talk to me if I wasn’t sitting with the phone pressed against my ear, looking busy, busy, busy. So, the female computerized voice finishes telling me the number the message is from and then it says, in a totally monotone, tinny, digitized voice,
“Start message. Tomorrow, hell yeah. Obama, BITCHES! End message.”
I laughed so hard I snorted. It was awesome.
Anyway, so this week is my week. Typically, the hour I’m covering consists of a whole bunch of irritating people who call and say,
“Did you just call me?” Nope. No, I did not.
“Well, this number just showed up on my caller ID.”
“Did the caller leave you a message?” I ask as politely as possible.
“No.”
“Then, I’m not sure who called sir/ma’am. We have approximately 350 employees here. It could have been anyone.”
“Well, what did they want?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know who called you. I’m sure they’ll call back if it was important.”
“Well, what kind of company is this?”
“It’s an ambulance transport service.”
“Well, what do you do?”
“Um, transport people by ambulance.” (I thought that was clear, but whatever.)
“Well, why are you calling me?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t call you.”
“Well, who did?”
You get the idea…
There are also a lot of hang ups and “sorry, wrong number”. Occasionally, there’s a recorded message call. Sometimes I’ll listen to them, because I am bored when I’m covering the front desk, but usually I disconnect. One came in today. It started out the same as the regular recorded messages:
“Hello, please stay on the line for an important message. The following is a text message sent to you from 2-1-6-5-5-5-blah, blah, blah…”
I was about to hang up, but I stayed on because Chatty von Chatterstein was walking by and I knew she’d stop to talk to me if I wasn’t sitting with the phone pressed against my ear, looking busy, busy, busy. So, the female computerized voice finishes telling me the number the message is from and then it says, in a totally monotone, tinny, digitized voice,
“Start message. Tomorrow, hell yeah. Obama, BITCHES! End message.”
I laughed so hard I snorted. It was awesome.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
OMG Update to the Update!
I just got back from visiting my dad and my cousin Bethann was there. Beth seems to have skipped the section on “appropriate conversation”. Lainey Fun Fact #3 – I am not in the least bit prudish. In fact, it’s entirely possible that I fall more on the whorish side of the line than the other. I say this not because I’m proud of being a big ol’ slut (I AM, but that’s not what this is about), but to make sure you understand that I’m neither priggish nor easily shocked.
My dad, Beth and I were in the family room watching the game. It’s nearing halftime and Beth says to me, “so, are you dating anyone?” I said “no, not really. I’ve gone out on a couple of dates since Michael and I split up, but nothing big.” Then she said, “Yeah, after my divorce, it was really weird going out with new men. Every time you’d start screwing around, it would get weird. We weren’t raised to be so free with the blowjobs, you know?”
True, we grew up when oral sex was something you did WAAAY after you’d been with someone for a while. It wasn’t an appetizer like it is now, but still, is it necessary to have this discussion right this very minute?
Then, she yells (because as previously mentioned, no one in her family talks at a normal volume) to my father, her 63-year-old uncle and says,
“Uncle Denny? What is up with guys and skull fucking? Does it really feel better or is it a power thing? What’s your opinion?”
OHMYHOLYFUCKINGGOD!!
She did NOT just ask my father, in front of me, what his opinion on *skull fucking* is?!?
She is either an evil genius and messing with me for sport or she is truly one of the most inappropriate people I’ve ever known. I’m leaning more toward the second one only because no one would ever call Beth a genius. Evil, maybe. Genius, umm, no.
When people ask me why I don’t really enjoy spending time with my family, I think I may just drop this little gem on them.
My dad, Beth and I were in the family room watching the game. It’s nearing halftime and Beth says to me, “so, are you dating anyone?” I said “no, not really. I’ve gone out on a couple of dates since Michael and I split up, but nothing big.” Then she said, “Yeah, after my divorce, it was really weird going out with new men. Every time you’d start screwing around, it would get weird. We weren’t raised to be so free with the blowjobs, you know?”
True, we grew up when oral sex was something you did WAAAY after you’d been with someone for a while. It wasn’t an appetizer like it is now, but still, is it necessary to have this discussion right this very minute?
Then, she yells (because as previously mentioned, no one in her family talks at a normal volume) to my father, her 63-year-old uncle and says,
“Uncle Denny? What is up with guys and skull fucking? Does it really feel better or is it a power thing? What’s your opinion?”
OHMYHOLYFUCKINGGOD!!
She did NOT just ask my father, in front of me, what his opinion on *skull fucking* is?!?
She is either an evil genius and messing with me for sport or she is truly one of the most inappropriate people I’ve ever known. I’m leaning more toward the second one only because no one would ever call Beth a genius. Evil, maybe. Genius, umm, no.
When people ask me why I don’t really enjoy spending time with my family, I think I may just drop this little gem on them.
Overdue Update
A HUGE thank you to everyone who sent good wishes, thoughts and prayers for my dad! I swear, anyone who says you can't have real connections with people on the internet is fucking stupid and OBVIOUSLY doesn't know you guys! Seriously, from the tips of my tiny toes to the depth of my heart, thank you so much for caring!
My dad is doing very well. He's been convalescing at my aunt and uncle's house and how he hasn't killed them and they haven't killed him is a mystery to me. They are nice people and apparently very patient, but I don't enjoy being in their presence. They are extremely loud. Like LOUD. Loud talkers, loud eaters, loud walkers, they're probably loud sleepers. Anyway, they're just loud all the time. They don't so much talk with you, they talk AT you. Incessantly. It doesn't stop. They are not fans of sitting in silence watching TV or reading. Nope. Always has to be some sort of running commentary. My dad lives alone. He's not used to lots of chatter. How he's coping with this, I don't know. I guess he has to.
He's recovering nicely from the heart attack and the surgery, but he's crankier than hell every time I talk to him. I don't generally have extended conversations with my dad anyway, because he tends to get irritated after a short time, so talking to him about his days filled with nothingness is very...umm...challenging. He doesn't give a crap about my day, so I don't talk about it and his days are all filled with the same thing day in and day out, so he doesn't want to talk about it. You can see the conundrum. So, what are we supposed to talk about? You can only discuss the weather and news headlines so much. I don't follow sports, so that rules out another topic. He doesn't watch any of the shows I watch, so scratch that. He's never been on the internet and doesn't understand blogging or Facebook or any of the other time wasters in my life. I don't have kids, so I can't tell him stories about what Little Lainey did today. And my love life is purty much non-existent, so I can't ask him for advice about why men are morons - (we used to discuss that a LOT when I was with Michael. If he gave me nothing else, he gave me shit to talk to my dad about for 4 years. So, hey thanks for that, Michael.)
He'll be home in a week or two and it will become my job to check on him every day. Bring him stuff from the store and take him places. I'm fine with that. That's easy. But, what the hell are we going to talk about?? I'm sure these (non)conversations will lead to more frequent blog posts. Aren't you lucky!?
My dad is doing very well. He's been convalescing at my aunt and uncle's house and how he hasn't killed them and they haven't killed him is a mystery to me. They are nice people and apparently very patient, but I don't enjoy being in their presence. They are extremely loud. Like LOUD. Loud talkers, loud eaters, loud walkers, they're probably loud sleepers. Anyway, they're just loud all the time. They don't so much talk with you, they talk AT you. Incessantly. It doesn't stop. They are not fans of sitting in silence watching TV or reading. Nope. Always has to be some sort of running commentary. My dad lives alone. He's not used to lots of chatter. How he's coping with this, I don't know. I guess he has to.
He's recovering nicely from the heart attack and the surgery, but he's crankier than hell every time I talk to him. I don't generally have extended conversations with my dad anyway, because he tends to get irritated after a short time, so talking to him about his days filled with nothingness is very...umm...challenging. He doesn't give a crap about my day, so I don't talk about it and his days are all filled with the same thing day in and day out, so he doesn't want to talk about it. You can see the conundrum. So, what are we supposed to talk about? You can only discuss the weather and news headlines so much. I don't follow sports, so that rules out another topic. He doesn't watch any of the shows I watch, so scratch that. He's never been on the internet and doesn't understand blogging or Facebook or any of the other time wasters in my life. I don't have kids, so I can't tell him stories about what Little Lainey did today. And my love life is purty much non-existent, so I can't ask him for advice about why men are morons - (we used to discuss that a LOT when I was with Michael. If he gave me nothing else, he gave me shit to talk to my dad about for 4 years. So, hey thanks for that, Michael.)
He'll be home in a week or two and it will become my job to check on him every day. Bring him stuff from the store and take him places. I'm fine with that. That's easy. But, what the hell are we going to talk about?? I'm sure these (non)conversations will lead to more frequent blog posts. Aren't you lucky!?
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