Showing posts with label Work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Work. Show all posts
Thursday, January 17, 2013
Coffee politics
I'm not in charge of the Office Coffee Club any more, and haven't been for a couple of years. We don't have the K-cup machine any more now, either, we just have a drip pot. If you're a frequent coffee drinker you can pay $10 per month and drink all the coffee you want. If you're an infrequent drinker you can pay $1 per cup. Either way it's a good deal.
Instead of joing the Office Coffee Club, the ladies in the next aisle over started their own coffee club. They brought in a drip pot of their own and set it up in an empty cubicle, and they all chip in and buy their own supplies.
And this morning they ran out of coffee. They're pretty fastidious about making their coffee (as any serious coffee drinker should be; can't fault them there) and they apparently needed one more scoop of ground coffee so the coffee-to-water ratio was correct. But they had no more coffee.
So they came to me - well, one of them did - to ask me if she could take a scoop of coffee from the Coffee Club's supplies.
The Coffee Club's supplies are not at my desk, they're in the breakroom. She could have just gone in there and taken a scoop, and at 6:30am nobody would have been the wiser. But no, she wanted someone to tell her it was okay to take a scoop. And because I'm in early, and because I'm probably forever going to be known as "the coffee guy", she came to me.
I don't manage the coffee club anymore, I told her, I'm just a member.
We just want one scoop, she repeated, showing me the scoop again.
I'm just a member, I repeated right back at her, I can't tell you it's okay. You'll need to ask Mandy; she manages the coffee club now.
In hindsight, I should have said, 'sure, just leave a dollar in the cup.' knowing she didn't want to pay; she wanted to take a scoop and if someone caught her she wanted to be able to say, "John said it was okay..."
Except I wouldn't tell her it was okay.
I'll ask someone else, she said, walking off.
Mandy will be in soon, I called after her. You should ask Mandy.
I'll ask someone else, she muttered.
Monday, September 10, 2012
Snarky without my coffee
We have two sign-in sheets at the front desk. These are for us, the staff, to sign in & out; not for people visiting our office. There are two sign-in sheets because the number of workers in our office spans two pages, A through M on the first page, N through Z on the second.
Because I'm almost always the first person to arrive at the office each morning, when I get in I take yesterday's two sign-in sheets off their respective clipboards, put them on the "old sheet" stack under the counter, get two new sheets from the "new sheet" stack, write today's day & date at the top of each page, clip them to their clipboards, then check off my name on the second page as being "Present!".
This morning I got in and saw someone had beaten me into the office, and they'd put a new sign-in sheet on the first clipboard. That is they'd taken the first sheet, the A-M sheet, from the new sheet stack, but only the A-M sheet because their name is on that first sheet, so obviously they don't need the second sheet. Duh! Then they put that new A-M sheet on top of Friday's sheet, dated it, checked off their name, then toddled off to their desk.
I looked at the sign-in sheets for a few seconds, almost unable to believe that someone would take out and date only that first sheet because that was all they needed. Almost.
I sighed, and reminded myself that coworkers can be friendly but that doesn't make them friends. Then I unclipped Friday's sheets, put them under the counter on the "old sheet" stack, took the page of N-Z names off the new sheet stack, clipped it to the clipboard, wrote today's day & date on it, checked off my name...and then...
I took another sheet from the new sheet stack, being the first page of A-M names.
And I wrote today's day & date on top of that page.
And I replaced the sheet my coworker had used to check off her name with this new sheet, and I put "her" sheet on the "old sheet" stack. And no, I didn't check off her name on my new A-M sheet. Bwah hah ha!
No, she won't get into trouble for not checking in or anything like that, but I gained a certain amount of perverse pleasure plus the satisfaction in redoing the entire "job" and not just "finishing what she'd started".
With that I went to the breakroom to get a cup of coffee and discovered she'd already been in there too, and that while the kettle was on to boil so she could make herself a cup of tea, Friday's 3-day old coffee was still sitting in the pot. Lovely.
Because I'm almost always the first person to arrive at the office each morning, when I get in I take yesterday's two sign-in sheets off their respective clipboards, put them on the "old sheet" stack under the counter, get two new sheets from the "new sheet" stack, write today's day & date at the top of each page, clip them to their clipboards, then check off my name on the second page as being "Present!".
This morning I got in and saw someone had beaten me into the office, and they'd put a new sign-in sheet on the first clipboard. That is they'd taken the first sheet, the A-M sheet, from the new sheet stack, but only the A-M sheet because their name is on that first sheet, so obviously they don't need the second sheet. Duh! Then they put that new A-M sheet on top of Friday's sheet, dated it, checked off their name, then toddled off to their desk.
I looked at the sign-in sheets for a few seconds, almost unable to believe that someone would take out and date only that first sheet because that was all they needed. Almost.
I sighed, and reminded myself that coworkers can be friendly but that doesn't make them friends. Then I unclipped Friday's sheets, put them under the counter on the "old sheet" stack, took the page of N-Z names off the new sheet stack, clipped it to the clipboard, wrote today's day & date on it, checked off my name...and then...
I took another sheet from the new sheet stack, being the first page of A-M names.
And I wrote today's day & date on top of that page.
And I replaced the sheet my coworker had used to check off her name with this new sheet, and I put "her" sheet on the "old sheet" stack. And no, I didn't check off her name on my new A-M sheet. Bwah hah ha!
No, she won't get into trouble for not checking in or anything like that, but I gained a certain amount of perverse pleasure plus the satisfaction in redoing the entire "job" and not just "finishing what she'd started".
With that I went to the breakroom to get a cup of coffee and discovered she'd already been in there too, and that while the kettle was on to boil so she could make herself a cup of tea, Friday's 3-day old coffee was still sitting in the pot. Lovely.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Fun with Voicemail
For several years our office never had voicemail, except for the receptionist (and maybe our Program Manager). Then we moved to a new office, with new phones, and a new phone system, and we finally entered the 21st century and had personal voicemail. Hooray!
That's actually not as exciting as it sounds. The novelty quickly wore off, and the red LED on our phone's handle signifying we had voicemail quickly became a thing of dread, especially when you handle a lot of problem calls. Some people took to covering the handle of their phone with a sticky note, which was rather obvious if you looked at their desk. I went one better. I discovered the LED was not in the handle but beneath it, and that a clear lens through the entire handle allowed the LED to shine through. One expertly applied piece of paper later, and the red LED disappeared from view. No red LED, no voicemails, right? Yeeeeeeah, it didn't quite work like that.
But out of sight out of mind, did. The problem then was forgetting to check the voicemail for a couple of days, and when you eventually logged in hearing, "You have 56 new message."
O_O
But there was also a trick to handling that. Alternately pressing the 3 & 1 keys quickly reduced that number to zero.
What?
If it's really important, they'll call back.
Besides, if I go on a 2-week vacation and set my phone message to inform any callers to call me back in 2 weeks, or that for immediate assistance they can call "Jack Black" on 555-1234, then I'm not making any promises about returning any messages left during those 2 weeks that I'm gone. Either call Jack Black now, or call me when I get back. That's how it works. I've been gone for 2 weeks. I've got a ton of work to catch up on. How am I supposed to get any work done if I'm returning calls all day?
If it's important, they'll call back.
Then there's those voicemails left on the front desk phone, which the receptionist listens to, then forwards to the appropriate person/section. Except she doesn't. Oh, she listens to them, but she doesn't forward them to the appropriate person.
She forwards them to me.
Even though the caller doesn't actually ask for me, nor do they ask to speak to someone in my section. In fact sometimes the caller doesn't even mention why they're calling at all, but she still forwards the message to me.
Why? Because I get in early o_O
Apparently her sole criteria for deciding who is the correct party to forward a caller/message is based on who is physically present in the office at that time.
I just now slipped out for coffee, got back to my desk, and there's the red LED (I felt guilty about not being able to see it, and you can only delete 56 voicemails so many times without repercussion). I was actually expecting a call because I'd just sent out an email to a couple of folks and I want a response from them, but I want it in writing so I have something solid on which to base my decision. So I check my voicemail and it's not an outside call, well it is, but it's an outside call forwarded from someone else's voicemail box. This is not the voicemail I was looking for. Heh heh. What? That's gold, that is.
I listen to the message, twice, and I have no idea what the caller wants, or why the sender forwarded the message to me. So I hit 4 to reply to the message (which sends it back to the person who forwarded it to me, straight into their voicemail box. Karma, baby.). "Yeeeeeah," I say, in my best Lumbergh voice, "this is your Cap'n speaking. You forwarded the following message to me, and I don't know why. The lady doesn't ask for me, and she doesn't mention my section or what we do. I have no idea what she's even talking about. So if you could just go ahead and call her back, that'd be great. Yeeeeeah."
Two minutes later my phone rings, which is about enough time for someone to notice the red LED on their phone, listen to my message, then call me. I glance at the caller ID and lo! It's the morning receptionist!
Surprise! Surprise! Surprise!
(You have to say that like Gomer Pyle, otherwise it doesn't work.)
Me and her...let's call her Pyle, shall we? So Pyle and I, we have a good old chat, and she tells me it was her (she?) who forwarded the message to me, as if I didn't know that. (Actually I didn't realize it was her, but I should have) Pyle proceeds to tell me that she listened to the message, twice, before deciding to forward it to me. I tell her I listened to it as well, twice, and that the woman didn't ask about our section, never mentioned what we do, or said anything even remotely related to my job function.
Pyle tells me she knows that, but that she can't call the woman back because she doesn't have a Long Distance-authorization code and the caller is in the next county (We need to enter this code when we dial in order to authorize long-distance call). Actually Pyle does have an LD code, but she says she forgot it.
Surprise! Surprise! Surprise!
And she forwarded the message to me because?
She knew my coworker wasn't in the office.
Surprise! Surprise! Sur...wait. What?
My coworker, who works in my section, who has the same job function as me, and for whom the call would also not be relevant, was not in the office at that time, and Pyle knew that, and so she forwarded the call to me instead???
Surprise! Surprise! Sur...that actually gets old really quickly. The perils of working with a Gomer Pyle, I guess.
I know M is not in yet, Pyle says, so can you call the woman back and ask her what she wants?
Perhaps you should call HR and ask them for your LD code so you can call her, I reply.
Eventually I work out why the caller was calling and she did call the correct office, and Pyle didn't completely screw up because I actually used to work in the Section the caller needs...3 years ago!!!
PYYYYYYYYY-LE!!!
That's actually not as exciting as it sounds. The novelty quickly wore off, and the red LED on our phone's handle signifying we had voicemail quickly became a thing of dread, especially when you handle a lot of problem calls. Some people took to covering the handle of their phone with a sticky note, which was rather obvious if you looked at their desk. I went one better. I discovered the LED was not in the handle but beneath it, and that a clear lens through the entire handle allowed the LED to shine through. One expertly applied piece of paper later, and the red LED disappeared from view. No red LED, no voicemails, right? Yeeeeeeah, it didn't quite work like that.
But out of sight out of mind, did. The problem then was forgetting to check the voicemail for a couple of days, and when you eventually logged in hearing, "You have 56 new message."
O_O
But there was also a trick to handling that. Alternately pressing the 3 & 1 keys quickly reduced that number to zero.
What?
If it's really important, they'll call back.
Besides, if I go on a 2-week vacation and set my phone message to inform any callers to call me back in 2 weeks, or that for immediate assistance they can call "Jack Black" on 555-1234, then I'm not making any promises about returning any messages left during those 2 weeks that I'm gone. Either call Jack Black now, or call me when I get back. That's how it works. I've been gone for 2 weeks. I've got a ton of work to catch up on. How am I supposed to get any work done if I'm returning calls all day?
If it's important, they'll call back.
Then there's those voicemails left on the front desk phone, which the receptionist listens to, then forwards to the appropriate person/section. Except she doesn't. Oh, she listens to them, but she doesn't forward them to the appropriate person.
She forwards them to me.
Even though the caller doesn't actually ask for me, nor do they ask to speak to someone in my section. In fact sometimes the caller doesn't even mention why they're calling at all, but she still forwards the message to me.
Why? Because I get in early o_O
Apparently her sole criteria for deciding who is the correct party to forward a caller/message is based on who is physically present in the office at that time.
I just now slipped out for coffee, got back to my desk, and there's the red LED (I felt guilty about not being able to see it, and you can only delete 56 voicemails so many times without repercussion). I was actually expecting a call because I'd just sent out an email to a couple of folks and I want a response from them, but I want it in writing so I have something solid on which to base my decision. So I check my voicemail and it's not an outside call, well it is, but it's an outside call forwarded from someone else's voicemail box. This is not the voicemail I was looking for. Heh heh. What? That's gold, that is.
I listen to the message, twice, and I have no idea what the caller wants, or why the sender forwarded the message to me. So I hit 4 to reply to the message (which sends it back to the person who forwarded it to me, straight into their voicemail box. Karma, baby.). "Yeeeeeah," I say, in my best Lumbergh voice, "this is your Cap'n speaking. You forwarded the following message to me, and I don't know why. The lady doesn't ask for me, and she doesn't mention my section or what we do. I have no idea what she's even talking about. So if you could just go ahead and call her back, that'd be great. Yeeeeeah."
Two minutes later my phone rings, which is about enough time for someone to notice the red LED on their phone, listen to my message, then call me. I glance at the caller ID and lo! It's the morning receptionist!
Surprise! Surprise! Surprise!
(You have to say that like Gomer Pyle, otherwise it doesn't work.)
Me and her...let's call her Pyle, shall we? So Pyle and I, we have a good old chat, and she tells me it was her (she?) who forwarded the message to me, as if I didn't know that. (Actually I didn't realize it was her, but I should have) Pyle proceeds to tell me that she listened to the message, twice, before deciding to forward it to me. I tell her I listened to it as well, twice, and that the woman didn't ask about our section, never mentioned what we do, or said anything even remotely related to my job function.
Pyle tells me she knows that, but that she can't call the woman back because she doesn't have a Long Distance-authorization code and the caller is in the next county (We need to enter this code when we dial in order to authorize long-distance call). Actually Pyle does have an LD code, but she says she forgot it.
Surprise! Surprise! Surprise!
And she forwarded the message to me because?
She knew my coworker wasn't in the office.
Surprise! Surprise! Sur...wait. What?
My coworker, who works in my section, who has the same job function as me, and for whom the call would also not be relevant, was not in the office at that time, and Pyle knew that, and so she forwarded the call to me instead???
Surprise! Surprise! Sur...that actually gets old really quickly. The perils of working with a Gomer Pyle, I guess.
I know M is not in yet, Pyle says, so can you call the woman back and ask her what she wants?
Perhaps you should call HR and ask them for your LD code so you can call her, I reply.
Eventually I work out why the caller was calling and she did call the correct office, and Pyle didn't completely screw up because I actually used to work in the Section the caller needs...3 years ago!!!
PYYYYYYYYY-LE!!!
Monday, March 15, 2010
Signs you work for Initech
I've mentioned before that I'm in charge of the office coffee club because no other schmuck will take it off my hands, and I need coffee, and as much as I like Soy Lattes I'm not doing Starbucks every day.
So I'm in the breakroom this morning and an altruistic coworker presents to me what he thinks is a great idea.
We should turn off the Keurig coffee machine on Friday afternoon so it's not On all weekend, he says to me.
That's not a bad idea. I mean it's just one little machine keeping about a quart of water hot so when someone wants a cup of coffee it's ready, but I'm sure there's some cost saving if it were turned off over the weekend instead of being left on. A minimal cost saving, but a saving nonetheless.
I also start work early. I mean seriously early. Like OMFG o'clock. So I could turn the machine back on first thing Monday morning when I get in giving the water inside time to heat up and be ready by the time the rest of the riffraff get in, and so...
Yeah, that's a good idea, I tell him, before adding, who's going to turn it off on Friday?
See because I get in at OMFG o'clock (what can I say? That amuses me. Yeah, I'm a little juvenile at times) I also leave early in the afternoon, so I can't turn the machine off when I leave or I'd be depriving some of my caffeine-addicted coworkers of their coffee. Bad things happen when people who need caffeine don't get it, and I'm not going to be responsible for that, so it's only natural that I'd ask him who would turn the machine off.
And he gives me a look not unlike a kicked puppy, which I think is a little unfair. He's the one who didn't think his idea all the way through to the "Who would do this?" stage. Why does that make me the bad guy for pointing it out?
If anything that was his queue to step up to the plate and say "Why! I shall turn it off myself!" but he didn't do that. So he has a half-arsed idea, that he never thought through, and which he's not prepared to put into action himself, but I'm the bad guy for calling him on it.
That's not the Initech moment, which if you need it pointed out is the company Peter worked for (or didn't work for, depending how you look at it) in the movie "Office Space".
On Friday I completed & submitted my electronic Time Sheet (like a good little Peon). This morning the supervisor who I helped last week (who is a supervisor but not my supervisor) is apparently reviewing my Time Sheet because she asks me to recall it because I didn't charge any time to her projects.
So I recall my Time Sheet, change the numbers around to bill some time to her projects (instead of it all being charged to the projects on which I normally work), re-Submit it, then notice I have a new email. It's from my Supervisor. As in my actual Supervisor.
It's short, simple, and to the point.
"Please submit your Time Sheet."
You have got to be fucking kidding me!
Now I actually have a decent relationship with my real supervisor so I fire off an email to him, explain the situation, and tell him I've just re-submitted it. Then I add:
"I'm glad I'm learning new opportunities but situations like these make me feel like I'm in the movie "Office Space" :P
Yeah, I actually emailed that, including the :P smiley.
"Just another manic Monday." - The Bangles.
So I'm in the breakroom this morning and an altruistic coworker presents to me what he thinks is a great idea.
We should turn off the Keurig coffee machine on Friday afternoon so it's not On all weekend, he says to me.
That's not a bad idea. I mean it's just one little machine keeping about a quart of water hot so when someone wants a cup of coffee it's ready, but I'm sure there's some cost saving if it were turned off over the weekend instead of being left on. A minimal cost saving, but a saving nonetheless.
I also start work early. I mean seriously early. Like OMFG o'clock. So I could turn the machine back on first thing Monday morning when I get in giving the water inside time to heat up and be ready by the time the rest of the riffraff get in, and so...
Yeah, that's a good idea, I tell him, before adding, who's going to turn it off on Friday?
See because I get in at OMFG o'clock (what can I say? That amuses me. Yeah, I'm a little juvenile at times) I also leave early in the afternoon, so I can't turn the machine off when I leave or I'd be depriving some of my caffeine-addicted coworkers of their coffee. Bad things happen when people who need caffeine don't get it, and I'm not going to be responsible for that, so it's only natural that I'd ask him who would turn the machine off.
And he gives me a look not unlike a kicked puppy, which I think is a little unfair. He's the one who didn't think his idea all the way through to the "Who would do this?" stage. Why does that make me the bad guy for pointing it out?
If anything that was his queue to step up to the plate and say "Why! I shall turn it off myself!" but he didn't do that. So he has a half-arsed idea, that he never thought through, and which he's not prepared to put into action himself, but I'm the bad guy for calling him on it.
That's not the Initech moment, which if you need it pointed out is the company Peter worked for (or didn't work for, depending how you look at it) in the movie "Office Space".
On Friday I completed & submitted my electronic Time Sheet (like a good little Peon). This morning the supervisor who I helped last week (who is a supervisor but not my supervisor) is apparently reviewing my Time Sheet because she asks me to recall it because I didn't charge any time to her projects.
So I recall my Time Sheet, change the numbers around to bill some time to her projects (instead of it all being charged to the projects on which I normally work), re-Submit it, then notice I have a new email. It's from my Supervisor. As in my actual Supervisor.
It's short, simple, and to the point.
"Please submit your Time Sheet."
You have got to be fucking kidding me!
Now I actually have a decent relationship with my real supervisor so I fire off an email to him, explain the situation, and tell him I've just re-submitted it. Then I add:
"I'm glad I'm learning new opportunities but situations like these make me feel like I'm in the movie "Office Space" :P
Yeah, I actually emailed that, including the :P smiley.
"Just another manic Monday." - The Bangles.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
I am soooo going to Hell
I've been in charge of the office coffee fund for a long time now, probably for 7 years or so. Lately (actually ever since our satellite office merged with the Main Office three years ago) I've felt we've been steadily losing money, and recently we've really been in dire straits. We've barely been able to pay our supplier (we have a Keurig machine and I buy K-Cups in bulk from a local supplier), let alone buy creamer, sugar, etc.
In conjunction with the Keurig machine we also have a drip filter pot, so every morning I'll brew a pot of coffee then some time during the morning I'll make a second pot. The profit margin on the pot should be quite high, and when combined with the 25¢ profit margin per cup from the Keurig machine we should be practically swimming in money, but lately, after paying our supplier, I've barely had enough money to buy supplies so I've been using the Just In Time inventory method.
Today I brewed a pot of coffee and I noticed the tub was getting very low. Once again we have just enough money to pay our supplier with just enough left over to buy a couple of tubs of creamer & sugar, but not enough to shell out $10 for a new tub of Folgers. In my 7 years managing the coffee fund this is practically unheard of.
When our two offices merged I inherited all of the Main Office's coffee supplies, and this included two tins of Folgers Decaf, one of which was still sealed and had remained so until this very day.
As I prepared this morning's pot and noticed the coffee was getting low my first thought was "if it runs out it runs out, and that's it." But then I looked up at this green tin of Folgers Decaf that had been sitting on the shelf for 3 years, and then I looked at the almost empty tub of Folgers in my hands. Then I looked at the label and I saw the tub held (when full) 48oz of coffee. I looked at the label on the yet-to-be opened tin of decaf; it allegedly held 39oz of coffee. I looked at the small amount of coffee still remaining in the tub. Was it 8oz of coffee? Was it more? Or less? There was really only one way to find out.
In one of the drawers I found a can opener (thank Orion for well stocked break rooms) and I proceeded to open the tin of Decaf. While it had been sitting there for 3 years (and Lord only knows how long before the merge), it was still sealed, and that's sealed in a tin, mind you, not one of those foil bags. So I'm pretty sure that even though it's 3+ years old, it's still fresh...sort of. Sort of fresh, that is, not sort of sure. I'm sure it's sort of fresh. Or is that still the same thing as 'sort of sure it's fresh'?
The can opener didn't work properly and it seemed to take forever to get the tin open. Fortunately I start work at 6am and I'd got in early this morning so my chances of being interrupted mid-mission were slim to none. But there were a couple of other people that get in this early, and I'd already seen them walking to their desks as I'd made my way to the break room, and one of them usually meets me in the break room around this time...so come on, can opener! I finally got the tin open and began pouring the decaf into the tub. It all fit, just, but a couple of taps on the counter packed the grounds together and settled them down to a less-than-suspicious level. Then I buried the green decaf tin in one of the recycling bins, way down deep, under all the other cans & bottles. Mission accomplished!
Yesterday we were down to our last carton of sugar, we were completely out of creamer, and we were almost out of coffee. Last night I bought some more creamer & sugar but couldn't afford coffee (not if I wanted to pay our supplier).
Today we have sugar, creamer, and most importantly, we have coffee. Decaf still has some caffeine so it still counts as coffee. It does, too!
I've "pulled a Carol" and switched the office coffee to decaf.
I am soooo going to Hell.
In conjunction with the Keurig machine we also have a drip filter pot, so every morning I'll brew a pot of coffee then some time during the morning I'll make a second pot. The profit margin on the pot should be quite high, and when combined with the 25¢ profit margin per cup from the Keurig machine we should be practically swimming in money, but lately, after paying our supplier, I've barely had enough money to buy supplies so I've been using the Just In Time inventory method.
Today I brewed a pot of coffee and I noticed the tub was getting very low. Once again we have just enough money to pay our supplier with just enough left over to buy a couple of tubs of creamer & sugar, but not enough to shell out $10 for a new tub of Folgers. In my 7 years managing the coffee fund this is practically unheard of.
When our two offices merged I inherited all of the Main Office's coffee supplies, and this included two tins of Folgers Decaf, one of which was still sealed and had remained so until this very day.
As I prepared this morning's pot and noticed the coffee was getting low my first thought was "if it runs out it runs out, and that's it." But then I looked up at this green tin of Folgers Decaf that had been sitting on the shelf for 3 years, and then I looked at the almost empty tub of Folgers in my hands. Then I looked at the label and I saw the tub held (when full) 48oz of coffee. I looked at the label on the yet-to-be opened tin of decaf; it allegedly held 39oz of coffee. I looked at the small amount of coffee still remaining in the tub. Was it 8oz of coffee? Was it more? Or less? There was really only one way to find out.
In one of the drawers I found a can opener (thank Orion for well stocked break rooms) and I proceeded to open the tin of Decaf. While it had been sitting there for 3 years (and Lord only knows how long before the merge), it was still sealed, and that's sealed in a tin, mind you, not one of those foil bags. So I'm pretty sure that even though it's 3+ years old, it's still fresh...sort of. Sort of fresh, that is, not sort of sure. I'm sure it's sort of fresh. Or is that still the same thing as 'sort of sure it's fresh'?
The can opener didn't work properly and it seemed to take forever to get the tin open. Fortunately I start work at 6am and I'd got in early this morning so my chances of being interrupted mid-mission were slim to none. But there were a couple of other people that get in this early, and I'd already seen them walking to their desks as I'd made my way to the break room, and one of them usually meets me in the break room around this time...so come on, can opener! I finally got the tin open and began pouring the decaf into the tub. It all fit, just, but a couple of taps on the counter packed the grounds together and settled them down to a less-than-suspicious level. Then I buried the green decaf tin in one of the recycling bins, way down deep, under all the other cans & bottles. Mission accomplished!
Yesterday we were down to our last carton of sugar, we were completely out of creamer, and we were almost out of coffee. Last night I bought some more creamer & sugar but couldn't afford coffee (not if I wanted to pay our supplier).
Today we have sugar, creamer, and most importantly, we have coffee. Decaf still has some caffeine so it still counts as coffee. It does, too!
I've "pulled a Carol" and switched the office coffee to decaf.
I am soooo going to Hell.
Thursday, September 03, 2009
Office Space
Sunday was my Thirty-tenth birthday, Monday & Tuesday I was out of the office (recovering from my son's Cub Scout Camp on Catalina Island combined with the Bunny's first day of Kindergarten) so my first day back at work was Wednesday. The gang were going to take me to lunch but M had an afternoon meeting, SG had an upset tummy, and A had to go to Personnel (not located in our building), so everyone decided to do breakfast the next day, instead.
"That's cool," I said, "let's go to The Pantry." (Because I looooove their huge slabs of sourdough toast dripping with butter (real butter) and slathered with orange marmalade.)
This morning B, F, L and SG head down to the ATM to get some cash, while M (my supervisor) comes by my cube to get me. "By the way," he says, "we're going to Denny's."
"Not The Pantry?" I ask.
ST chimes in that F (her cube-buddy who apparently started a diet this week) has already picked out her low-cal Denny's breakfast of choice.
M also cites economic reasons behind choosing Denny's over The Pantry. I'm not too sure about that, The Pantry has some low-priced breakfasts, but I decide to keep the peace and go along with them.
Heading downstairs we pass A coming back from Starbucks. Yesterday it was a visit to Personnel, this time he holds up the Starbucks cup and asks for a raincheck...which will never be called in.
We pick up the rest of the gang and head outside to wait for the Dash, which in typical un-Dashlike fashion takes forever (also typically, while waiting two Dashes going the other way pass by on the other side). We finally give up on the Dash and start walking to Denny's (yes, there are Angelenos who walk...sometimes ;) I've never been to this Denny's (they're not exactly one of my favorite places to eat) but apparently it's on Figueroa St. between 8th & 9th. If you're not an Angeleno, that's right across the road from The Pantry.
As we're walking I'm chatting with B, SG & L while the slower walking M, ST & F lag behind. It turns out B would also prefer The Pantry to Denny's because she likes their Portuguese sausage.
I mention how I was looking forward to The Pantry's slab-like slices of sourdough toast (which is nothing like Denny's little squares of sourdough toast).
L and S are both miffed to hear that we're going to Denny's even though I'd wanted to go to The Pantry. "That's not right," they say, "it's your birthday. Let them go to Denny's on their birthday."
I decide that if S and F want to go to Denny's they can, but I'm going to go to The Pantry like I originally wanted. I put this to S, L & B who laugh, but are not quite ready to split up the group.
We get to 9th & Fig. Denny's is halfway up the block on our right, The Pantry is across the street. I make a beeline for the corner while gesturing to M: "I'm going to The Pantry."
M points up the block to Denny's and I point back to The Pantry. The light changes to green and I begin crossing. S and L follow my lead, while B stays behind to talk to M; they miss the light and stay on the other side.
M makes eye contact with me and points up the road to Denny's. I point behind me to The Pantry. M beckons me over and makes a talking gesture. I point to the now red light, beckon him to The Pantry side and also make the talking gesture. M smiles and nods his head.
The light takes a while to change back to green and I can see them talking on the other side. I know B is probably going to bat for me because it's my birthday and I'd requested The Pantry, only to have the location changed on me at the last minute. F is probably being passive aggressive and even though Denny's was most likely her idea is adding little to the conversation. Without F's support ST is probably going to go with whoever is the more vocal. Likewise M will probably yield to B who, like me, wants to eat at The Pantry.
The light changes and they cross over to our side (where we have cookies).
"Here's the thing," says M, "because we thought we were going to Denny's, F & I don't have cash." (This despite F making the earlier trip down to the ATM.)
"That's okay," I say, "I've got $25." I'd checked before putting my plan into action. "That should be good for 2, maybe 3 of us."
M notes that as it's my birthday they're supposed to be paying for me. I agree and say they can pay me back when we get back to the office. I add that if they really want to do Denny's they're welcome to go there, but I was really looking forward to eating at The Pantry. M finally yields and into The Pantry we go.
M, who had breakfast already, orders a slice of apple pie, which looked and smelled delicious, while I gorge myself on 3 giant slabs of sourdough toast, butter & orange marmalade. Everyone seems to have a good time, even (eventually) F, who spends most of the breakfast playing with her Blackberry. (I figure if a Crackhead is addicted to crack then a Blackberry addict should be a Blackhead, but despite my best efforts the gang persist in calling her a Crackberry...I digress.) The bill arrives and breakfast for 7 people comes to $51+tip. Split 6 ways that's a shade under $10 each which, IMO, is more than reasonable when one person is eating for free. Especially considering if we'd gone to Denny's I was going to order their most expensive steak & eggs breakfast >:) so I think they got off lightly.
On the walk back we fall into the same groups as on the way over, and again B, SG, L & I leave M, ST & F in our dust. When we cross at a light which they miss they fall even further behind.
Now safely out of earshot B mentions that she'd talked earlier to ST & F, who chose Denny's because they were on a diet and it offers low-calorie meals. Knowing that they'd be taking me out to lunch (or breakfast) this week, B asked why they hadn't waited to start their diet. Apparently they're on one of those 4-week fad diets, the end of which coincides with F's birthday later this month. Go figure.
Sometimes I feel like Dilbert or Wally. This morning I felt like Office Space's Milton, right up until I pulled a Peter. Or perhaps I was still Milton, just after he was moved to the basement and had the lights turned off on him.
"And if...if they take my stapler...I will...I will set this building on fire..."
"That's cool," I said, "let's go to The Pantry." (Because I looooove their huge slabs of sourdough toast dripping with butter (real butter) and slathered with orange marmalade.)
This morning B, F, L and SG head down to the ATM to get some cash, while M (my supervisor) comes by my cube to get me. "By the way," he says, "we're going to Denny's."
"Not The Pantry?" I ask.
ST chimes in that F (her cube-buddy who apparently started a diet this week) has already picked out her low-cal Denny's breakfast of choice.
M also cites economic reasons behind choosing Denny's over The Pantry. I'm not too sure about that, The Pantry has some low-priced breakfasts, but I decide to keep the peace and go along with them.
Heading downstairs we pass A coming back from Starbucks. Yesterday it was a visit to Personnel, this time he holds up the Starbucks cup and asks for a raincheck...which will never be called in.
We pick up the rest of the gang and head outside to wait for the Dash, which in typical un-Dashlike fashion takes forever (also typically, while waiting two Dashes going the other way pass by on the other side). We finally give up on the Dash and start walking to Denny's (yes, there are Angelenos who walk...sometimes ;) I've never been to this Denny's (they're not exactly one of my favorite places to eat) but apparently it's on Figueroa St. between 8th & 9th. If you're not an Angeleno, that's right across the road from The Pantry.
As we're walking I'm chatting with B, SG & L while the slower walking M, ST & F lag behind. It turns out B would also prefer The Pantry to Denny's because she likes their Portuguese sausage.
I mention how I was looking forward to The Pantry's slab-like slices of sourdough toast (which is nothing like Denny's little squares of sourdough toast).
L and S are both miffed to hear that we're going to Denny's even though I'd wanted to go to The Pantry. "That's not right," they say, "it's your birthday. Let them go to Denny's on their birthday."
I decide that if S and F want to go to Denny's they can, but I'm going to go to The Pantry like I originally wanted. I put this to S, L & B who laugh, but are not quite ready to split up the group.
We get to 9th & Fig. Denny's is halfway up the block on our right, The Pantry is across the street. I make a beeline for the corner while gesturing to M: "I'm going to The Pantry."
M points up the block to Denny's and I point back to The Pantry. The light changes to green and I begin crossing. S and L follow my lead, while B stays behind to talk to M; they miss the light and stay on the other side.
M makes eye contact with me and points up the road to Denny's. I point behind me to The Pantry. M beckons me over and makes a talking gesture. I point to the now red light, beckon him to The Pantry side and also make the talking gesture. M smiles and nods his head.
The light takes a while to change back to green and I can see them talking on the other side. I know B is probably going to bat for me because it's my birthday and I'd requested The Pantry, only to have the location changed on me at the last minute. F is probably being passive aggressive and even though Denny's was most likely her idea is adding little to the conversation. Without F's support ST is probably going to go with whoever is the more vocal. Likewise M will probably yield to B who, like me, wants to eat at The Pantry.
The light changes and they cross over to our side (where we have cookies).
"Here's the thing," says M, "because we thought we were going to Denny's, F & I don't have cash." (This despite F making the earlier trip down to the ATM.)
"That's okay," I say, "I've got $25." I'd checked before putting my plan into action. "That should be good for 2, maybe 3 of us."
M notes that as it's my birthday they're supposed to be paying for me. I agree and say they can pay me back when we get back to the office. I add that if they really want to do Denny's they're welcome to go there, but I was really looking forward to eating at The Pantry. M finally yields and into The Pantry we go.
M, who had breakfast already, orders a slice of apple pie, which looked and smelled delicious, while I gorge myself on 3 giant slabs of sourdough toast, butter & orange marmalade. Everyone seems to have a good time, even (eventually) F, who spends most of the breakfast playing with her Blackberry. (I figure if a Crackhead is addicted to crack then a Blackberry addict should be a Blackhead, but despite my best efforts the gang persist in calling her a Crackberry...I digress.) The bill arrives and breakfast for 7 people comes to $51+tip. Split 6 ways that's a shade under $10 each which, IMO, is more than reasonable when one person is eating for free. Especially considering if we'd gone to Denny's I was going to order their most expensive steak & eggs breakfast >:) so I think they got off lightly.
On the walk back we fall into the same groups as on the way over, and again B, SG, L & I leave M, ST & F in our dust. When we cross at a light which they miss they fall even further behind.
Now safely out of earshot B mentions that she'd talked earlier to ST & F, who chose Denny's because they were on a diet and it offers low-calorie meals. Knowing that they'd be taking me out to lunch (or breakfast) this week, B asked why they hadn't waited to start their diet. Apparently they're on one of those 4-week fad diets, the end of which coincides with F's birthday later this month. Go figure.
Sometimes I feel like Dilbert or Wally. This morning I felt like Office Space's Milton, right up until I pulled a Peter. Or perhaps I was still Milton, just after he was moved to the basement and had the lights turned off on him.
"And if...if they take my stapler...I will...I will set this building on fire..."
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
These girls are crazy!
(but should be admired, nonetheless.)
A few of my female coworkers are teaming up to take part in the Ketchum-Downtown YMCA Stairclimb event, which helps raise money to support the YMCA's various community programs.
On Friday September 26, 2008, the four of them (& many others equally crazy) will climb the stairs of the U.S. Bank Tower in downtown Los Angeles. At 1,108 feet tall (with 75 stories and approx. 1,500 stairs), the U.S. Bank Tower is the tallest building west of the Mississippi.
You can show your support for these crazy young ladies, and the YMCA, by making a small contribution to their cause. Don't worry about their health & safety, they're young, fit, and as government employees have a great Health Insurance plan ;)
Visit their team webpage here to read more about the Ketchum-YMCA Stairclimb, and show your support, if you feel so inclined.
A few of my female coworkers are teaming up to take part in the Ketchum-Downtown YMCA Stairclimb event, which helps raise money to support the YMCA's various community programs.
On Friday September 26, 2008, the four of them (& many others equally crazy) will climb the stairs of the U.S. Bank Tower in downtown Los Angeles. At 1,108 feet tall (with 75 stories and approx. 1,500 stairs), the U.S. Bank Tower is the tallest building west of the Mississippi.
You can show your support for these crazy young ladies, and the YMCA, by making a small contribution to their cause. Don't worry about their health & safety, they're young, fit, and as government employees have a great Health Insurance plan ;)
Visit their team webpage here to read more about the Ketchum-YMCA Stairclimb, and show your support, if you feel so inclined.
Monday, November 05, 2007
Thursday, November 01, 2007
Halloween 2007
Just like in years gone by our section once again led the way in dressing up (or down) for Halloween.
This time around we settled on a theme of Angels and Devils. I decided to dress in a manner similar to a devil/demon you might see on reruns of Angel, which meant wearing dark jeans with Doc Marten boots, my Punisher t-shirt, and my very macho leather jacket. When we bought a set of horns at the local Party/Costume store I realized my hair was currently too short (not to mention too sparse) to conceal the cord used to hold the horns on, so I didn't have a haircut for close to a month prior to Halloween. I also grew a goatee (again).
And here's a picture of me (in costume) with my kids.
One of the girls at work dressed up as a classic angel in white, another as a classic devil in red. My supervisor bought the same devil-in-disguise kit as I, so he had the exact same horns, but he wore a black outfit with a cape (I've never trusted capes since The Incredibles). One girl wore a half & half devil-angel outfit with a halo held up by horns, and red & white wings (one of each color), while another was a "fallen angel" dressed all in black, complete with a bandage on her knee where she fell :D Another supervisor was also dressed in a black angel outfit, but we decided she was a Dark Angel, rather than a fallen angel. Finally the last two supervisors coordinated with one wearing a New Jersey Devils' sweater, and the other wearing an Anaheim Angels' sweater. Brilliant!
I don't have a picture of all of us, yet, but when I do I'll put it up, too :)
This time around we settled on a theme of Angels and Devils. I decided to dress in a manner similar to a devil/demon you might see on reruns of Angel, which meant wearing dark jeans with Doc Marten boots, my Punisher t-shirt, and my very macho leather jacket. When we bought a set of horns at the local Party/Costume store I realized my hair was currently too short (not to mention too sparse) to conceal the cord used to hold the horns on, so I didn't have a haircut for close to a month prior to Halloween. I also grew a goatee (again).
And here's a picture of me (in costume) with my kids.
One of the girls at work dressed up as a classic angel in white, another as a classic devil in red. My supervisor bought the same devil-in-disguise kit as I, so he had the exact same horns, but he wore a black outfit with a cape (I've never trusted capes since The Incredibles). One girl wore a half & half devil-angel outfit with a halo held up by horns, and red & white wings (one of each color), while another was a "fallen angel" dressed all in black, complete with a bandage on her knee where she fell :D Another supervisor was also dressed in a black angel outfit, but we decided she was a Dark Angel, rather than a fallen angel. Finally the last two supervisors coordinated with one wearing a New Jersey Devils' sweater, and the other wearing an Anaheim Angels' sweater. Brilliant!
I don't have a picture of all of us, yet, but when I do I'll put it up, too :)
Thursday, September 06, 2007
One fine day, down at the office
At work today one of the ladies noticed the roll of plastic wrap she'd put in the kitchen a few weeks ago was gone, so she sent out an office-wide email stating that while the roll was for general use by the office, she would appreciate whoever took it returning it to the kitchen. Perhaps in the vein of a letter written by a young lady over 100 years ago, my coworker's email was sent with the subject line of "Why Virginia...Why???"
I couldn't help myself and decided to throw a bit of fuel on the fire.
I hit Reply All and stated that maybe Virginia used the last of the plastic wrap so she threw out the box, but (I added), given that whenever we have donuts or cakes in the breakroom, the empty box is always left on the table and never thrown away by the person who takes the last donut, I said I thought it was unlikely that Virginia would throw out the box after using the last of the plastic wrap.
Then again, there's a lot more humor value in taking the last donut and leaving the box lying around, because you just know the next person to come in will see the box and get all excited, but when they open it there's no donuts, just Doh! Nuts!
The coworker didn't quite get my punny joke and stopped by to say the box of plastic wrap was practically brand new, but one coworker came back with a comment of his own, referring to Virginia as Ms. Wolf, stating that perhaps we could lure her out by leaving a couple of boxes of Donuts in the breakroom. A third coworker stopped by my desk and said he thought Virginia's last name was Slim.
I restrained myself and this time just sent an email to the few people that I knew would appreciate a good Pun ;)
I stated that Virginia Wolf was known to a couple of people, but she now went by Virginia Slim, but if Virginia continues to take the last donut, I said, she won't be Slim for much longer.
One of my coworkers rose to the challenge and replied, saying that leaving out a box of donuts sounded like an excellent way to smoke out Virginia Slim.
Boy, do we have some sick people in our office, me included :P
I couldn't help myself and decided to throw a bit of fuel on the fire.
I hit Reply All and stated that maybe Virginia used the last of the plastic wrap so she threw out the box, but (I added), given that whenever we have donuts or cakes in the breakroom, the empty box is always left on the table and never thrown away by the person who takes the last donut, I said I thought it was unlikely that Virginia would throw out the box after using the last of the plastic wrap.
Then again, there's a lot more humor value in taking the last donut and leaving the box lying around, because you just know the next person to come in will see the box and get all excited, but when they open it there's no donuts, just Doh! Nuts!
The coworker didn't quite get my punny joke and stopped by to say the box of plastic wrap was practically brand new, but one coworker came back with a comment of his own, referring to Virginia as Ms. Wolf, stating that perhaps we could lure her out by leaving a couple of boxes of Donuts in the breakroom. A third coworker stopped by my desk and said he thought Virginia's last name was Slim.
I restrained myself and this time just sent an email to the few people that I knew would appreciate a good Pun ;)
I stated that Virginia Wolf was known to a couple of people, but she now went by Virginia Slim, but if Virginia continues to take the last donut, I said, she won't be Slim for much longer.
One of my coworkers rose to the challenge and replied, saying that leaving out a box of donuts sounded like an excellent way to smoke out Virginia Slim.
Boy, do we have some sick people in our office, me included :P
Thursday, August 09, 2007
A tacky act for a sick kitty?
This afternoon one of the ladies at work, through one of the guys, sent out an email asking for help with a stray kitty she took in. Kitty has a skin disorder of some kind, and the Vet has told her it will cost about $500 to treat it, so the email asked for monetary contributions to help the lady pay for kitty's treatment.
You take in a stray kitty then ask your coworkers for help to pay for medical treatment? I thought about it for just long enough to hit Delete, then promptly put it out of my mind.
Then a folder arrived on my desk, with a picture of the kitty and a reprint of the email. This is the preferred method in our office of passing around a card (birthday, retirement, etc) with a collection envelope to raise funds for a gift for said birthday, retirement, etc.
The lady who brought me the folder asked if I'd seen it.
Aah, yeah, I've seen it, I said. I meant I'd seen the email, but I didn't care that my reply was misinterpreted, and the lady took the folder away. What I forgot was that normally a list accompanies these folders, a list of everyone's name, and before you pass on the folder you check off your name so the next poor sap to get the folder can pick a victim to keep the folder moving.
So the folder arrived back at my desk. This time I knew better, and I checked off my name before looking down the list for my victim. Aah, here was a name of someone who was still in the office and hadn't left for the day.
I took the folder around to this lady and handed it over, but I just couldn't contain the evilness within me that sometimes materializes as a dark, macabre sense of humor.
"She's raising money to have the kitty put down," I said, winking at my victim. She looked at me and gasped, but she has a wicked sense of humor, too, so she knew I was joking and found it funny in a dark, macabre, totally inappropriate way. "It's cheaper than the operation," I added, and we both shared an "Oooohhh," moment as I left her with the folder, and the list, and the envelope full of money, and her conscience.
Now before you say to me, "John, you've got a dog. What if he needed an operation? Wouldn't you ask your coworkers for money to pay for it?"
No, I would not.
I'd either find the money, or I'd have him put down. And if the Vet is incredulous that this is a simple, relatively inexpensive operation, but I'm choosing to have the animal put down instead, it's this simple. It's a dog. It's a pet. It's family, but not quite, and I'm not spending money on an operation our family can't afford, just for a pet. I'd sell everything necessary if my wife or kids needed an operation, but this is a pet we're talking about. And yes, I would hit up my coworkers for money for a life saving operation for my wife or kids, but not for a pet.
I had no issue with the woman sending out the email asking for help. It was a simple matter to hit Delete. But I had serious issues with her then passing around a collection envelope because it was obvious nobody cared enough about her stray pet cat to come by and give her money.
So when I said putting the kitty down was cheaper than the operation, I wasn't quite joking. Sometimes you have to weigh up your alternatives and say, yes, this is a tough decision, but when the alternative means going in to debt, and possibly losing my car or my house, that's not an alternative at all.
You take in a stray kitty then ask your coworkers for help to pay for medical treatment? I thought about it for just long enough to hit Delete, then promptly put it out of my mind.
Then a folder arrived on my desk, with a picture of the kitty and a reprint of the email. This is the preferred method in our office of passing around a card (birthday, retirement, etc) with a collection envelope to raise funds for a gift for said birthday, retirement, etc.
The lady who brought me the folder asked if I'd seen it.
Aah, yeah, I've seen it, I said. I meant I'd seen the email, but I didn't care that my reply was misinterpreted, and the lady took the folder away. What I forgot was that normally a list accompanies these folders, a list of everyone's name, and before you pass on the folder you check off your name so the next poor sap to get the folder can pick a victim to keep the folder moving.
So the folder arrived back at my desk. This time I knew better, and I checked off my name before looking down the list for my victim. Aah, here was a name of someone who was still in the office and hadn't left for the day.
I took the folder around to this lady and handed it over, but I just couldn't contain the evilness within me that sometimes materializes as a dark, macabre sense of humor.
"She's raising money to have the kitty put down," I said, winking at my victim. She looked at me and gasped, but she has a wicked sense of humor, too, so she knew I was joking and found it funny in a dark, macabre, totally inappropriate way. "It's cheaper than the operation," I added, and we both shared an "Oooohhh," moment as I left her with the folder, and the list, and the envelope full of money, and her conscience.
Now before you say to me, "John, you've got a dog. What if he needed an operation? Wouldn't you ask your coworkers for money to pay for it?"
No, I would not.
I'd either find the money, or I'd have him put down. And if the Vet is incredulous that this is a simple, relatively inexpensive operation, but I'm choosing to have the animal put down instead, it's this simple. It's a dog. It's a pet. It's family, but not quite, and I'm not spending money on an operation our family can't afford, just for a pet. I'd sell everything necessary if my wife or kids needed an operation, but this is a pet we're talking about. And yes, I would hit up my coworkers for money for a life saving operation for my wife or kids, but not for a pet.
I had no issue with the woman sending out the email asking for help. It was a simple matter to hit Delete. But I had serious issues with her then passing around a collection envelope because it was obvious nobody cared enough about her stray pet cat to come by and give her money.
So when I said putting the kitty down was cheaper than the operation, I wasn't quite joking. Sometimes you have to weigh up your alternatives and say, yes, this is a tough decision, but when the alternative means going in to debt, and possibly losing my car or my house, that's not an alternative at all.
Monday, July 16, 2007
Just another typical Monday.
Shortly after getting in to work this morning an email was sent around congratulating the successful candidate for a position I'd interviewed for a few weeks ago. No, I wasn't the successful candidate, and it wasn't the guy who's been here for 10+ years and is already working in that position; it was a girl who's been here for less than two years.
I decided to go to Starbucks and get a conciliatory latte. While making my drink the barista asked me what I'd ordered.
"Non-fat latte," I told him, as I watched him pour a latte from the whole milk pot.
"Non-fat latte," he said to me, handing me my...whole-milk latte? Aah, it doesn't matter; it's only a few more calories.
Back at the office I took the first sip from my latte. What the??? This isn't even a whole milk latte!!! What the hell am I drinking???
The answer to that would be "Vanessa's" Hazelnut Latte. Which wasn't too bad once I was no longer expecting a regular latte. I sure hope Vanessa took a sip of "her" drink before she left Starbucks.
A Subway opened up across the street. I went over there with two coworkers and got a Turkey & Ham on Honey-Oat...or at least that's what I ordered. Got back to the office and discovered I had a Turkey & Ham on Wheat. Better than White at least, which would have been taken back to Subway...maybe...they were kind of busy when I left.
I wonder...dare I say it?
Come on, Monday! Is that the best you can do? BRING IT!!!
I decided to go to Starbucks and get a conciliatory latte. While making my drink the barista asked me what I'd ordered.
"Non-fat latte," I told him, as I watched him pour a latte from the whole milk pot.
"Non-fat latte," he said to me, handing me my...whole-milk latte? Aah, it doesn't matter; it's only a few more calories.
Back at the office I took the first sip from my latte. What the??? This isn't even a whole milk latte!!! What the hell am I drinking???
The answer to that would be "Vanessa's" Hazelnut Latte. Which wasn't too bad once I was no longer expecting a regular latte. I sure hope Vanessa took a sip of "her" drink before she left Starbucks.
A Subway opened up across the street. I went over there with two coworkers and got a Turkey & Ham on Honey-Oat...or at least that's what I ordered. Got back to the office and discovered I had a Turkey & Ham on Wheat. Better than White at least, which would have been taken back to Subway...maybe...they were kind of busy when I left.
I wonder...dare I say it?
Come on, Monday! Is that the best you can do? BRING IT!!!
Monday, June 25, 2007
Conserving Water
Or An Idea with Merit, but hardly Practical
Our Director sent out a Memo, basically restating what the Mayor had said about cutting our water consumption by 10%. I totally wanted to reply to it asking if that meant instead of drinking 5 bottles of water per day I should only drink 4 1/2, but I refrained. Probably a wise idea ;)
Seriously, how do they expect people who work in an office to reduce water consumption. Actually, here are a few ideas )
To: All Staff
Re: 10% reduction in Water Consumption.
Date: Today! Now!
Here are a few suggestions to assist staff with the Mayor's goal of reducing water consumption by 10%
* Drink 4 1/2 bottles of water per day, not 5.
* Only fill the 10-cup coffee maker to the 9-cup mark.
* Keep track of your trips to the restroom. On the 10th trip do not flush the toilet or wash your hands.
* Every 10th person who wants to wash their coffee cup or lunch dishes in the sink...cannot.
Please feel free to include other helpful suggestions of how we can all save water. Together we can make a difference.
Our Director sent out a Memo, basically restating what the Mayor had said about cutting our water consumption by 10%. I totally wanted to reply to it asking if that meant instead of drinking 5 bottles of water per day I should only drink 4 1/2, but I refrained. Probably a wise idea ;)
Seriously, how do they expect people who work in an office to reduce water consumption. Actually, here are a few ideas )
To: All Staff
Re: 10% reduction in Water Consumption.
Date: Today! Now!
Here are a few suggestions to assist staff with the Mayor's goal of reducing water consumption by 10%
* Drink 4 1/2 bottles of water per day, not 5.
* Only fill the 10-cup coffee maker to the 9-cup mark.
* Keep track of your trips to the restroom. On the 10th trip do not flush the toilet or wash your hands.
* Every 10th person who wants to wash their coffee cup or lunch dishes in the sink...cannot.
Please feel free to include other helpful suggestions of how we can all save water. Together we can make a difference.
Friday, December 22, 2006
I knew it!
I should have slept in and come in late today. The Boss just came around and said we all can leave at 2:30 today. Which just happens to be the time I am scheduled to leave on Fridays. Typical. At least I'm off next Friday, Dec. 29th when they'd pull the same stunt...and Monday is the New Year's Day Holiday. A 3-day weekend about to begin, a 3-day work week coming up and a 4-day weekend just around the corner. Life is good.
Monday, December 18, 2006
People unclear on the concept
My Union somehow created an email list of work email addys and has been sending out propaganda about upcoming activities, slow-downs, stoppages and strike actions. Today someone finally responded and asked to be removed from the "hate mail" list. I know they responded because they sent their request to every single person who'd received the email. That of course inspired several other people to ask to be removed as well, with a few Techies chiming in and telling people if they wanted to be removed to reply to the original sender, not to do a Reply All.
So far three IT people have requested people do a Reply to Sender, and eight TI people have sent a Reply All email. TI would be the Technologically Inept :P
*Update* Five more TIs just asked everyone to remove them from the mailing list, and two more IT just asked why are people continuing to do a Reply All. You have to be amused by TI people, otherwise you'd get arrested for choking the living shit out of them :D
So far three IT people have requested people do a Reply to Sender, and eight TI people have sent a Reply All email. TI would be the Technologically Inept :P
*Update* Five more TIs just asked everyone to remove them from the mailing list, and two more IT just asked why are people continuing to do a Reply All. You have to be amused by TI people, otherwise you'd get arrested for choking the living shit out of them :D
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Hooray!
My Kris Kringle/Secret Santa came through today. In fact I actually wound up with two gifts. I got a small potted plant and this 4.5" Globe by Replogle, which is actually kind of cool. You don't have a lot of desk space in a cubicle, so I appreciate it's smaller size :)
Monday, December 04, 2006
Rate my Response
I got in to work this morning and found the following email from Boss#1
- - - - -
John, I can't seem to find our October 2006 report. Did we do one? Just a reminder we need the November as well. Thanks!
- - - - -
I was a little irked by this because I used to have a boss back in Australia who required us all to have Diaries, and at the end of the day, after we'd left work, he'd come around to our work stations and write us little notes telling us what he wanted us to do the next day, and he wasn't always polite about it. We had an altercation in writing where he accused me of screwing up and lying to cover my ass, but the computer inventory system (which he'd personally hired me to install) saved me that day and provided me with evidence to back me up. I left my old boss a note in my diary that the next time he wanted to call me a liar he do so to my face, and I never got any nasty notes after that. Ever since then I'm very edgy when I receive missives from supervisors.
So my reply was as follows, amended slightly to once again cover my ass.
- - - - -
Boss#1, exactly which report are you after?
I've attached the three reports I prepared for the month of October.
Report1 is located on the server in folder1
Report2 is also located on the server in folder2
& Report3 is located in folder3
November's Report1 was emailed to you & Boss#2 on November 30 with the subject line BigBossDoc. Because you'd requested we use the format provided by Big Boss I revised the document you sent me, hence the name BigBossDoc, but it's essentially November Report1 (which I've just now saved in folder1 under that name).
I'll be working on Report2 and Report3 this week and they will be ready for the Meeting next Tuesday, Dec. 12.
As far as I'm aware these are all of the monthly reports I'm responsible for preparing and we're completely up-to-date with them, or will be by the end of the week.
Thanks,
John.
- - - - -
As Boss#1 had cc'd Boss#2, I sent my reply to both Boss#1 & Boss#2
I think I contained myself fairly well, but that's my opinion. What does everyone else think? And how would you have handled this situation? Pertinent information is that work on Report2 and Report3 could not begin until this week, because we need month-end figures from November.
- - - - -
John, I can't seem to find our October 2006 report. Did we do one? Just a reminder we need the November as well. Thanks!
- - - - -
I was a little irked by this because I used to have a boss back in Australia who required us all to have Diaries, and at the end of the day, after we'd left work, he'd come around to our work stations and write us little notes telling us what he wanted us to do the next day, and he wasn't always polite about it. We had an altercation in writing where he accused me of screwing up and lying to cover my ass, but the computer inventory system (which he'd personally hired me to install) saved me that day and provided me with evidence to back me up. I left my old boss a note in my diary that the next time he wanted to call me a liar he do so to my face, and I never got any nasty notes after that. Ever since then I'm very edgy when I receive missives from supervisors.
So my reply was as follows, amended slightly to once again cover my ass.
- - - - -
Boss#1, exactly which report are you after?
I've attached the three reports I prepared for the month of October.
Report1 is located on the server in folder1
Report2 is also located on the server in folder2
& Report3 is located in folder3
November's Report1 was emailed to you & Boss#2 on November 30 with the subject line BigBossDoc. Because you'd requested we use the format provided by Big Boss I revised the document you sent me, hence the name BigBossDoc, but it's essentially November Report1 (which I've just now saved in folder1 under that name).
I'll be working on Report2 and Report3 this week and they will be ready for the Meeting next Tuesday, Dec. 12.
As far as I'm aware these are all of the monthly reports I'm responsible for preparing and we're completely up-to-date with them, or will be by the end of the week.
Thanks,
John.
- - - - -
As Boss#1 had cc'd Boss#2, I sent my reply to both Boss#1 & Boss#2
I think I contained myself fairly well, but that's my opinion. What does everyone else think? And how would you have handled this situation? Pertinent information is that work on Report2 and Report3 could not begin until this week, because we need month-end figures from November.
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
Welcome back to work
We just had an office meeting regarding a charity campaign. We're supposed to feel honored to be in a position that we can afford to allocate a small percentage of our paycheck each week to a charity to help out those less fortunate than us. Maybe I'm getting jaded in my old age, maybe it's the Republican side of me coming out, or the Libertarian side which knows that many (not all, but many) of the people you see on the street begging for change are there by choice and if they were offered a regular 9-to-5 job they'd choose living on the street any day. Maybe it's that so many people who benefit from charity programs don't need it or deserve it, or they only qualify because they have 5 or more kids (and they won't stop popping them out, again, lifestyle choice), and maybe it's because I know people who could benefit from charity programs but refuse to accept it and would rather live day-to-day, paycheck to paycheck, than accept welfare or any form of charity or handout.
So this one woman got up and talked briefly (thank heavens) about the environmental program she belongs to. And all I could think about was the story my sister told me of the Tongans (yes, from the Kingdom of Tonga) who have a tourist program that greatly benefits the economy of Tonga. Tourists come from all over the world to spend their dollars in Tonga, and they all pay a small fortune to swim alongside the whales as they migrate past the Islands. Now Greenpeace (a name almost synonymous with Ecoterrorism) decided that people swimming alongside the whales as they passed through the Tongan-owned waters off the Kingdom of Tonga was somehow harmful to the whales (despite real life encounters which showed otherwise, and included whales seeking out boats and tourists and playing with them (non-violently) for hours), and so they approached the Tongan leaders and asked them to put a stop to this activity.
The Tongans thought for a while, and decided that yes, they could afford to not allow tourists to swim with the whales, because the drop in tourism and loss of income in tourist dollars could be offset by the amount the Japanese were willing to pay the Tongans to allow them access to the whales. The Japanese, of course, didn't want to do anything as harmless as just swim with the whales and when Greenpeace were made aware of this alternative they quickly withdrew their appeal.
Similar situations occur here in the U.S. Very few people know that Hunters also pay a small fortune for their licenses and the right to hunt and take deer, and the fees they pay usually go a long way towards maintaining our national parks. But when "people with good intentions" step in and stop the hunting, there is a subsequent drop in revenue and Park maintenance suffers, because these same "people with good intentions" are also often the ones who ask why they now have to pay to access the National Park they used to visit for free, and so they stop going. And as the number of people using the park drops fees to access the park increase and less people come to the Park, until eventually the Park closes because it's not cost effective to maintain the Park just for the handful of people who still use it. Finally the Park gets sold off to developers who tear down most of the trees and subdivide the land and build shopping centers and office buildings and houses, etc. and only then does everyone complain about the loss of the National Park.
So I'm very wary of environmental groups and "people with good intentions" in general.
Then this other woman got up and talked for far too long about all the good United Way does, and again, I'm leery of charity groups because far too often all they want to do is raise money to pay for the salaries of people who sit on committees talking about how to solve some problem that they don't really want resolved because then there'd be no committee for them to get paid to sit on. And this woman talks for ages, and she asks everyone to stand up, then asks half the room to sit down, and she explains that those of us sitting down represent the kids who drops out of school in 9th & 10th grade, and how sad it is that those kids can't go on to graduate from high school, and she asks a 1/3rd of those still standing to sit down, and how sad it is that 1/3rd of high school grads don't make it into college, etc.
I decided not to burst her bubble by asking how many of the kids who dropped out did so because they got an apprenticeship somewhere. And I decided not to ask her if it was true that kids who get an apprenticeship at 15 or 16 are often financially more secure than their fellow students when they meet again at their 10-year Reunion. And I decided not to ask her "What's so great about college anyway?"
Look at it this way. I'm a college grad. I'm currently making around $30/hr in my cushy government job. To get to that level the average person needs a 4-year college degree, and then they usually need to have been employed by the City for approximately 5 to 6 years. Some do it faster, some take longer, but on average, it's 5 to 6 years to get to where you're making $30/hr. That just happens to be around about what a common Union Laborer makes, per hour. Someone who digs a ditch, pushes a broom, etc, gets around $30/hr. Now if I'd done an Apprenticeship and become a licensed Carpenter, Electrician, etc, I'd be making $40 to $50 per hour as a Journeyman (a skilled laborer). A standard length Apprenticeship is 3 to 4 years long, about the same as earning your college degree. But as a 16-year old Apprentice you'll probably have a two year head-start on your classmate who is going on to college. In 12 years time (2 more years of High School plus 10 years to the reunion) the Apprentice is pulling down $50/hour (or more), he owns his own car (or truck) and is making payments on a house. The College Grad is probably making $30/hr (unless he's lucky and actually got a job in the field appropriate to his degree) and he's living paycheck to paycheck while struggling to pay his rent and make payments on his $50,000 (or more) college loans.
Granted not everyone who drops out of high school in 9th or 10th grade has an Apprenticeship waiting for them, and many of them go on to learn such valuable skills as how to say "Would you like fries with that?" but a lot of college grads get their degrees with nothing waiting for them but the exact same minimum-wage job they've had for the last 6 years. The only thing is, that college grad is now working for the guy who dropped out in 10th grade, who was the only one willing and able to work all those odd hours which got the manager's attention and so promoted him to assistant store manager.
Back to the woman who is talking for far too long and dropping statistics like how 80,000 people in Los Angeles county are homeless (and yet our shelters which only house a few thousand often have beds free), and how a $3/paycheck donation somehow buys 3 hours of tutoring for 5 students every single week, and other typical socialist bullshit that doesn't sit well with this Republican-flavored Libertarian, so I mostly tuned out of what she had to say.
All in all it was a wasted and unproductive morning, but I'm happy to be able to rant here and also glad I was able to shoot a lot of really big guns yesterday. Pictures (and moofies) of which will be added shortly :)
So this one woman got up and talked briefly (thank heavens) about the environmental program she belongs to. And all I could think about was the story my sister told me of the Tongans (yes, from the Kingdom of Tonga) who have a tourist program that greatly benefits the economy of Tonga. Tourists come from all over the world to spend their dollars in Tonga, and they all pay a small fortune to swim alongside the whales as they migrate past the Islands. Now Greenpeace (a name almost synonymous with Ecoterrorism) decided that people swimming alongside the whales as they passed through the Tongan-owned waters off the Kingdom of Tonga was somehow harmful to the whales (despite real life encounters which showed otherwise, and included whales seeking out boats and tourists and playing with them (non-violently) for hours), and so they approached the Tongan leaders and asked them to put a stop to this activity.
The Tongans thought for a while, and decided that yes, they could afford to not allow tourists to swim with the whales, because the drop in tourism and loss of income in tourist dollars could be offset by the amount the Japanese were willing to pay the Tongans to allow them access to the whales. The Japanese, of course, didn't want to do anything as harmless as just swim with the whales and when Greenpeace were made aware of this alternative they quickly withdrew their appeal.
Similar situations occur here in the U.S. Very few people know that Hunters also pay a small fortune for their licenses and the right to hunt and take deer, and the fees they pay usually go a long way towards maintaining our national parks. But when "people with good intentions" step in and stop the hunting, there is a subsequent drop in revenue and Park maintenance suffers, because these same "people with good intentions" are also often the ones who ask why they now have to pay to access the National Park they used to visit for free, and so they stop going. And as the number of people using the park drops fees to access the park increase and less people come to the Park, until eventually the Park closes because it's not cost effective to maintain the Park just for the handful of people who still use it. Finally the Park gets sold off to developers who tear down most of the trees and subdivide the land and build shopping centers and office buildings and houses, etc. and only then does everyone complain about the loss of the National Park.
So I'm very wary of environmental groups and "people with good intentions" in general.
Then this other woman got up and talked for far too long about all the good United Way does, and again, I'm leery of charity groups because far too often all they want to do is raise money to pay for the salaries of people who sit on committees talking about how to solve some problem that they don't really want resolved because then there'd be no committee for them to get paid to sit on. And this woman talks for ages, and she asks everyone to stand up, then asks half the room to sit down, and she explains that those of us sitting down represent the kids who drops out of school in 9th & 10th grade, and how sad it is that those kids can't go on to graduate from high school, and she asks a 1/3rd of those still standing to sit down, and how sad it is that 1/3rd of high school grads don't make it into college, etc.
I decided not to burst her bubble by asking how many of the kids who dropped out did so because they got an apprenticeship somewhere. And I decided not to ask her if it was true that kids who get an apprenticeship at 15 or 16 are often financially more secure than their fellow students when they meet again at their 10-year Reunion. And I decided not to ask her "What's so great about college anyway?"
Look at it this way. I'm a college grad. I'm currently making around $30/hr in my cushy government job. To get to that level the average person needs a 4-year college degree, and then they usually need to have been employed by the City for approximately 5 to 6 years. Some do it faster, some take longer, but on average, it's 5 to 6 years to get to where you're making $30/hr. That just happens to be around about what a common Union Laborer makes, per hour. Someone who digs a ditch, pushes a broom, etc, gets around $30/hr. Now if I'd done an Apprenticeship and become a licensed Carpenter, Electrician, etc, I'd be making $40 to $50 per hour as a Journeyman (a skilled laborer). A standard length Apprenticeship is 3 to 4 years long, about the same as earning your college degree. But as a 16-year old Apprentice you'll probably have a two year head-start on your classmate who is going on to college. In 12 years time (2 more years of High School plus 10 years to the reunion) the Apprentice is pulling down $50/hour (or more), he owns his own car (or truck) and is making payments on a house. The College Grad is probably making $30/hr (unless he's lucky and actually got a job in the field appropriate to his degree) and he's living paycheck to paycheck while struggling to pay his rent and make payments on his $50,000 (or more) college loans.
Granted not everyone who drops out of high school in 9th or 10th grade has an Apprenticeship waiting for them, and many of them go on to learn such valuable skills as how to say "Would you like fries with that?" but a lot of college grads get their degrees with nothing waiting for them but the exact same minimum-wage job they've had for the last 6 years. The only thing is, that college grad is now working for the guy who dropped out in 10th grade, who was the only one willing and able to work all those odd hours which got the manager's attention and so promoted him to assistant store manager.
Back to the woman who is talking for far too long and dropping statistics like how 80,000 people in Los Angeles county are homeless (and yet our shelters which only house a few thousand often have beds free), and how a $3/paycheck donation somehow buys 3 hours of tutoring for 5 students every single week, and other typical socialist bullshit that doesn't sit well with this Republican-flavored Libertarian, so I mostly tuned out of what she had to say.
All in all it was a wasted and unproductive morning, but I'm happy to be able to rant here and also glad I was able to shoot a lot of really big guns yesterday. Pictures (and moofies) of which will be added shortly :)
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
Offer them coffee, and they ask for mud
We had a rather fun "welcome to the new office" meeting yesterday afternoon. It was established that everyone and not just the chiefs & big-wigs will receive key card access to all doors, which was met with a resounding cheer. Previously we'd been forced to come in the front door only, yet we could leave the office by any door. The big-wigs, on the other hand, can come and go as they please.
One Inspector also enquired as to why we couldn't have our drip-filter coffee pot in the new breakroom. Our Bureau Chief asked why we didn't have it. Confusion reigned for a minute as everyone thought everyone else had said NO to the pot, then the Bureau Chief said if we had it, it was fine by him if we set it up. Keep in mind we already have a Keurig machine which makes a freshly brewed 8oz cup of coffee, in the flavor and strength of your choice, whenever you want it, but some people still want the coffee from the pot.
As soon as the meeting was over I located the pot, placed it on the counter next to our Keurig machine, plugged it in, and walked away. In the cupboard above the pot is the grinder, coffee beans and filters, and while I might be in charge of the Keurig machine (ordering supplies, paying bills, etc), I was not the one who brought up the coffee pot topic. I don't want the thing, and I'll be damned if I'm spending half my day making coffee for people. Plus I've been cutting way back on my coffee consumption, some days I don't even have a single cup, so I'm not making 10 pots of coffee a day for other people to drink. It's not in my job description, and until the Bureau Chief tells me I have to do it, I'm not doing it.
This morning the Inspector who spoke up in the meeting stopped by my desk and said to me with a grin that he bet I was glad I had the coffee pot back, just one more thing to take care of.
No, I said, with an equally large shit-eating grin on my face.
You're not going to make the coffee, he asked.
No, I replied, still grinning like a lunatic. If people want coffee from the pot I'm sure someone will make it, I told him.
Like
Now
If people want drop filtered coffee instead of hi-tech freshly brewed coffee, they can make it themselves. Mwah hah ha!
Thursday, June 29, 2006
More from the douche bag
This guy is great! :)
I told you I love to hate him. And it's not just me, either, everyone loves to hate him...or maybe everyone just hates him :P The guy loves to talk, but he always seems to ask the most inane questions. Today we had an hour long training session with a Cisco Rep on how to use our new Cisco phones (which come with voicemail), and we lucked out and had Mr. D in our session. When the Cisco Rep was talking about the voicemail, Mr. D asks her what they're supposed to do with voicemails. The Cisco Rep appears confused by Mr D's question, and rightly so, because it's definitely a "what the f**k???" kind of question.
"Um, what do you mean, what do you do with voicemails?"
First up Mr D blows his own trumpet by saying many people know his name, as if he's extremely important (more likely everyone knows his name so they know who to avoid), then he elaborates, explaining that because everyone knows him, he keeps getting calls from people so he has all these voicemails (today is our second day in the new office with voicemail), but as Mr D continues with his story he informs us that it's actually the one guy who's called and he just leaves his name and number but no message. And apparently he's left ten messages since yesterday.
Mr D explains that there's no actual message, just a name and a number, and he appears averse to just returning the call and asking why this fellow keeps calling him, so, what should he do? Should he forward the messages to someone? What...should he...do?
The Rep takes in the room and our expressions, and she realizes that we're all familiar with Mr D and his WTF questions, so she goes with the flow and tells Mr D that if this guy has left 10 messages for him, maybe he should return his calls.
As Mr D is about to ask something equally stupid, or perhaps repeat his question in the hope that he will be provided with some magical number to which he can forward all his voicemails and never have to deal with them himself, two other coworkers cut him off and ask slightly more relevant questions, like how many days will messages remain in the voicemail box, and how many messages can it hold. Everyone thinks Mr D will be the first to discover the answer to that second question. With the training session over everyone got up to leave, except for Mr D who apparently stayed behind to ask more WTF questions.
One of the best features of our new phones is call forwarding. We decided we should set up Call Forward so all our incoming calls go to Mr D's line. We also thought of leaving voicemails for him using a funny voice and giving Mr D's own number, so if he ever returns our calls he will get his own voicemail. Mr D makes life so much fun :)
I told you I love to hate him. And it's not just me, either, everyone loves to hate him...or maybe everyone just hates him :P The guy loves to talk, but he always seems to ask the most inane questions. Today we had an hour long training session with a Cisco Rep on how to use our new Cisco phones (which come with voicemail), and we lucked out and had Mr. D in our session. When the Cisco Rep was talking about the voicemail, Mr. D asks her what they're supposed to do with voicemails. The Cisco Rep appears confused by Mr D's question, and rightly so, because it's definitely a "what the f**k???" kind of question.
"Um, what do you mean, what do you do with voicemails?"
First up Mr D blows his own trumpet by saying many people know his name, as if he's extremely important (more likely everyone knows his name so they know who to avoid), then he elaborates, explaining that because everyone knows him, he keeps getting calls from people so he has all these voicemails (today is our second day in the new office with voicemail), but as Mr D continues with his story he informs us that it's actually the one guy who's called and he just leaves his name and number but no message. And apparently he's left ten messages since yesterday.
Mr D explains that there's no actual message, just a name and a number, and he appears averse to just returning the call and asking why this fellow keeps calling him, so, what should he do? Should he forward the messages to someone? What...should he...do?
The Rep takes in the room and our expressions, and she realizes that we're all familiar with Mr D and his WTF questions, so she goes with the flow and tells Mr D that if this guy has left 10 messages for him, maybe he should return his calls.
As Mr D is about to ask something equally stupid, or perhaps repeat his question in the hope that he will be provided with some magical number to which he can forward all his voicemails and never have to deal with them himself, two other coworkers cut him off and ask slightly more relevant questions, like how many days will messages remain in the voicemail box, and how many messages can it hold. Everyone thinks Mr D will be the first to discover the answer to that second question. With the training session over everyone got up to leave, except for Mr D who apparently stayed behind to ask more WTF questions.
One of the best features of our new phones is call forwarding. We decided we should set up Call Forward so all our incoming calls go to Mr D's line. We also thought of leaving voicemails for him using a funny voice and giving Mr D's own number, so if he ever returns our calls he will get his own voicemail. Mr D makes life so much fun :)
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