Why do I even bother?

See what happens when I try to help? I wanted to take about a week off of work so our family could go on a vacation together. My wife already has the time off, so I asked, too. To make things a heckuva lot easier on management, I asked for the last few days of one week and the first few of the next, thereby avoiding the problem of having me gone for that long in one week. After all, that would only be a day or two more than I would normally get anyway. Seems simple, right? Well, of course I got poked. I was given two days off, which I considered might happen since we’re a bit understaffed at the moment. Not a big deal, though it trims the trip time by a quarter-point-five. The real problem is that I was given one day totally unrelated to the days I asked for, and the only day given regarding my request was the first day. Now how does that help? I can’t go on vacation, come back for 3 days, then finish the vacation. And that’s assuming that they’ll give me the days of the next week that I asked for, something that’s looking less likely than a paparazzi shrugging when he sees Angelina’s baby doing a backflip while Britney’s baby juggles bowling balls and Tom & Katie’s baby breathes fire. In other words, it’s 50-50. Sigh. Apparently, it’s time for another REoS (Rolling Eye of Shame). Where will it end up this time?

I get lost trying to follow the rules

Once again irrationality takes hold in the business arena. We have what the company likes to call “verbiage” for answering the phone. This is the phone etiquette we’re supposed to use to really impress the guests. Problem is, it keeps changing. Just last week, we received the latest verbiage to come from the labs. I can see it now… bubbling beakers on bunsen burners… chugging steam-powered machinery… bespectacled scientists peering into microscopes… flashing lights on massive computers… when at last we hear a ding and the metallic dome is lifted to reveal a piece of paper with the third style of “verbiage” in the last 5 months. Does it really matter whether we say “how may I assist you” or “at your service” or “what can I do you for” or “does your butt need more kissing today”? Well, actually that last one works, because that’s how I met my wife. Nevertheless, it’s ridiculous. It’s the attitude behind those words that really counts, and it is, unfortunately, our attitudes which suffer when dealing with the absurdities of work. I am always, of course, disgustingly polite on the phone and pretty much everywhere due to my supremely patient nature, but even I must give the occasional rolling eye of shame to the people who run this place. And man, when my eye rolls… well, let’s just say it’s been known to appear weeks later lounging in a Japanese hot spring.

Wonders never cease

Today something happened that I’ve been looking forward to for a long time, something that I sometimes feared would never happen, something that, well, gives my life meaning and purpose again. Yes, that’s right. Today I got high-speed internet. Now I realize that it may seem like a major de-poking of my eye, it’s true, not just because of the fact that I got the service at all, but also because I got a fantastic deal. But fear not, my friends, there was some minor poking involved in the setup. I kept getting the message that my ethernet cable was not plugged in, despite repeatedly un- and re-plugging it. So I pulled a Star Trek and reversed the polarity (actually, just switched the cable around) and voila! In a puff of acrid red smoke the connection was made. After downloading a 230 MB game demo in just a few minutes, I forgot all about it. I just kept repeating a single word:

SWEEEET.

for all you dads out there…(’specially mine)

Have a great day.

I hate roaches.

I have always hated roaches, a fact to which practically everyone who knows me will attest. lizards? fine. mice? no problem. spiders and snakes – well, ok, I don’t like them either, but nothin’s as bad as a roach.

so one day I get to work, and almost immediately I notice this really huge roach on the ceiling in the office. I wasn’t about to try and get it off of there, cuz I had no doubt that if I did, it was gonna fly on me or somethin’, and I was alone at the time, so havin’ a heart attack wouldn’t have been in my best interests.

all day long, when I had to walk past (oops, I mean UNDER) it, I tensed up, waiting for it to decide to land on me. then my boss called at about 2:00, telling me he was headin’ out, but that he was gonna swing by the office first. so I said, “good, there’s a roach in here.” he said, “kill it!” of course, I said, “no way!!” so, he came back to the office, looked at MR. Roach, and said, “holy ****! I gotta go.” I said, “what about the roach?” he said, “I hate roaches – I’m glad it didn’t jump (or fly) on me. you’re on your own.” ok, so I’m paraphrasing, but only a little. but in any case, he didn’t kill the roach, either.

so, about 3:00, (now picture me, all day, backing up my chair at 5 (ok, 2.5) minute intervals makin’ sure it didn’t try to sneak into my office,) boss #2 walks in. I said, “hey, check out that roach!… why don’t you kill it?” he said “holy ****! how long has that thing been there, about 20 minutes?” I hung my head and said, “uh, no, a little bit longer than that.” I DID NOT SAY that it had been there since I walked in the door this morning, just that uh, it had been there “a little while.” “so, you’re gonna kill it, right?” so he grabbed a broom (no way would I have done that, it would have flown on me for sure, I know it) and tried to smash it on the ceiling. well, of course, it then landed on the floor, at which point he proceeded to smash it and brought it to… uh, I don’t know, and I don’t want to know, where. so, for the rest of the afternoon, I was finally able to work without fear.

did I mention that I really, really hate roaches?

A soothing balm, then WHAM! Right in the eye!

Since I started working the graveyard shift, I have been lucky enough to do what I did before, PLUS MORE! I have new tasks and new boring paperwork and the new challenge of finding interesting new websites to fill up my slow-moving 1 AM to 2 AM hour. So, thrilled as I was about both having more to do and yet more time to kill, I was even more impressed when the night supervisor (a very nice and fun-loving Aussie) decided to nominate me for the local version of Employee of the Month. Wellanow, that was, as I told her, disgustingly kind of her, and I thanked her. Then she said, “No, thank you,” and I said, “No, thank YOU!” and of course this precipitated into one of those silly little short-armed slapping extravaganzas.

We dusted ourselves off and shook hands, then I ran off after yelling, “THANK YOU” one last time and went home to tell the family. Well, time passed, and as I received my schedule I also received some recognition for that mention of my superior paperwork skills. Unfortunately, it was that management recognized that I was due a poking. So, despite the fact that I was previously told that I am that swingin’ night-time guy, apparently I am now either some sort of helium-filled balloon-like object or a particular type of bran-related post-meal toilet remains. That’s right, I am apparently a floater, a man with no set schedule. Guess which one of those two do I believe it is?

Education at its finest…

I’m thinkin’ this girl got poked in the eye.

Born with arms, and proud of it!

Have you ever seen something trivial and for some reason it just bugs the daylights out of you? Well, that happened to me.

I was driving along, twiddling my thumbs (difficult to do while steering with hands on opposite sides of the steering wheel) when I saw one of those license plate frames on the car in front of me. It said, “Born American, and Proud of It!”. So I put on my frowny thinking face. Why would this guy be proud of something he didn’t actually do? He had nothing to do with where he was born. He didn’t choose the place. To me, it’s all about contributing to something, or accomplishing something, not something happening to you. What’s there to be proud of if you didn’t do anything? Do you beam with pride when a bee lands on your nose? Do you do an arm-pump if a bird bombs your car? When an attractive person walks in front of you, do you yell out, “Yee-haw! I’m awesome!” Well, maybe that’s a bad example, since that’s how I met my wife.

There is a difference between being proud to be BORN American and being proud to BE American. Superman wasn’t born here. His little ship could’ve landed anywhere. But man, oh man, did he ever embrace the ideals of our country. He lived them. There are too many people in our society (especially young people) who are repeatedly told that they’re great just for existing, that they’re special for simply being born into wealth, for example.. Sorry, but that just ain’t true. Being born American (or whatever) gives them the opportunity to do things worthy of pride. But they’re the ones who have to do it, and until they do, they should neither feel the warmth of praise nor the glow of pride.