3

At this moment, I can rank this day as a 3. This day was a 2. I've experienced one 1. I'd rank my usual day at 6, sometimes crossing over to 7, rarely dipping into 5. Off the top of my head, I can remember one 9 and several 8s. I don't think I've ever had a 10.

I my entire lunch hour walking. It's been raining today, so the air on the small roads smelled fresh. Sort of like the breeze of the ocean early in the morning. I think my walk is what has kept the day from slipping into 2 territory. I went for a short walk on my break at three.

Part of me wishes for a 2 because I'd tell them I have to leave and just leave. At a 2, it's nearly impossible to function. It's more like going off of instinct, thought just evaporates. A 3 is a different beast all together.

At a 3, the brain function just fine and I find myself thinking things that I don't like to think and that most of you wouldn't like to believe I think. One thing I keep thinking about is going to see someone about these infrequent moments of... I'm not sure what word to use here. (At first I thought "horror," but that's not right. "Pain" was next word to pop into my head, but to me pain is more physical than emotional and intellectual. That's when I got stuck and wrote those eight words.) I don't want to see someone, though. Why should I pay someone who I don't know and don't trust to tell half-truths to so I can either have everything I say "reflected" back at me, or be asked how things make me feel, or be told things about myself that I already know. And thinking about seeing someone makes me think about pills and how expensive they are and how after a time your body can start blocking the chemicals causing you to have to abandon that one for another and then there's always the question about the placebo effect. I don't want to go see someone. I don't want to take any pills. (I have enough trouble taking aspirin or Tylenol for headaches.) I only feel this way, at most, twice a year.

I can get through this just fine.

Tomorrow, I'll feel okay.

All I want right now is get back to my apartment and shut the world out.

I'll be okay tomorrow.

This

I think I've become they kind of person who thinks any place/time/thing but here/now/this.

I visited my parents this weekend. I also visited my grandparents who live in The Valley. Because I visited my grandparents, I also visited with my aunt and uncle who live one town over from my grandparents. There was much talking. (One thing my family on my father's side and my mother's side does well is bullshit. I think we can sit and talk for hour.) Euchre was played. I was teamed with my mom. In the first game my grandma was teamed with my uncle, they beat us in two out of three. In the second game my grandma was teamed with my aunt, we beat them in two out of three, but they skunked us in the second.

I had a good time at my grandparents' house and later my parents' house, but I kept thinking that I'd rather be here than there, but I'd rather be in a different there than here and then was good, but is it better than now, or is there a better now coming later, and is this what I really want to be doing, wouldn't I rather be doing that, but if I did that wouldn't I rather be doing something else?

The only time my brain was distracted enough to start thinking that way was while we were playing cards. I was trying to think about the cards in my hand, what was trump, whether the bowers had fallen, how many tricks were taken and by whom, the conversation, and making the people around the table laugh. It was wonderful to be completely distracted from the outside and the inside for a while.

Heels or Johnny Logic, probably Mr. Logic since it's his e-mail address, wrote to me today and they made it safely across the continent. The baby and the dog were more good than bad for the entire trip. Now they are in Cowtown. I'm glad to know that they missed the nutty snow across the east and Midwest as they drove. I was worried about what it'd be like as they tried to cross the Rockies.

More Spam Poetry

"being filled goes. my being embarrass fascinate money.
gym least different disappoint different, pretty reference happened yours.
raise miserable nothing turning reply goes? added not mentioned why.
make sugar least sugar teach speaking,
development news use."

I'm sure someone else out there discovered this first, but I'm gonna post the ones I like anyway.

And this one is spam for something completely different than the last one.

My Story Doesn't Change Much

Now is earlier than normal for me putting thing here, but here I am, doing it anyway.

I went out to lunch today. Those of you who remember, remember that I wrote a while ago that I go once a month. This was my second time this month. I went last week (Wednesday, I think) because I didn't want to pack a lunch in the morning and the day was warm and quick food was good. Today, I went because if I didn't I was going to kill my supervisor.

Last week, she ate her lunch at the same time as me, and I survived. This week, she also gave herself lunch at the same time as me and I'm ready to commence maiming.

Why do I want to maim? I want to maim her because she's one of those people who can't stand a silence during a meal. All I want to do is eat and read while I'm sitting in the "break room." She doesn't. She comes in and talks about her son (who's older than I am) making tuna, as she heats up her rice bowl from Costco or Trader Joe's. Then she complains about the rice bowl. Then she just wants to sit and chat. If I'm lucky, she wants to make a phone call to her husband or daughter, in which case she announces that she's leaving because she doesn't want to disturb me, which seems ironic to me because it's easier for me to ignore conversations that aren't directed at me than the conversations she wants me actively involved in; if she really wanted to not disturb me she wouldn't speak at me.

Yesterday, I wasn't lucky. I was blowing on leftovers from Monday's dinner, to cool them off, when she came in and commenced with the small talk:

• She couldn't get a hold of her daughter the night before and now she's not picking up her phone.
• She still doesn't like the rice bowls she bought.
• It's sure gotten cold out there compared to last week, but more like the weather should be. Too bad winter isn't more like spring. (I wanted to point out that would probably make spring more like summer and summer more like fall, but knew enough to keep my mouth shut.)
• It's supposed to rain later this week.
• The new computers are nice.
• There are too many "f-words" in movies and that just makes them less enjoyable.
• Everyone should own a cell phone so everyone can stay in touch with everyone else all the time.

Eventually, she wore herself out and asked, but not really to me, if one of the court reporters brought a paper today. My insides ached hoping that there was a paper for my supervisor to read. And there was.

She started to read. Then she started to read to me:

• The vice president shot a man while hunting.
• There was a quiz in here that, if you're over fifty, can predict how long you have to live.
• The man the vice president shot had a heart attack. They found some bird shot in his heart.
• The Family Circus is my favorite comic. Nothing is better.
• The quiz says she only has a four percent chance of dying in the next year.
• They say the vice president didn't have a license to hunt.

When lunch, yesterday, came to an end, I wondered if it should even count as a lunch. For what I had to deal with, I thought I should have been paid time and a half.

I was going to eat lunch here today, but when I saw her heading for the "break room" I made a left and walked right out of the building.

Today's lunch was quick, cheap, and tasteless, but it was still better than yesterday's.

Tomorrow's may be quite similar to today's.

Oh, yeah, there's a new guy here. I think I mentioned him before. He's okay. His work ethic is a lot like mine was when I started. He gets his pile of work and goes for it, trying to finish it as quickly as possible then sits and looks confused for a little while until our supervisor walks over to his desk and asks him if he needs something to do. If he only has a question, she answers is, but his is a very rare situation. When he's finished all his work and tells her so, she gives him more to do, but it's usually busywork. (This morning, when he finished his work and told her so, she made him move all the old computers into the back and then restack them for some reason.) I'm sure that, in time, he'll come to be like the rest of use here, plugging away slowly at our work, trying not to get too far ahead so he doesn't get caught not being busy enough and asked to do pointless busywork.

There are two things that I irritate me about him, though. One is that after we talk, he calls me "chief." I think he calls everyone "chief," or something similar, but I don't like it. I asked him to please call me by my name, or nothing at all, and he stops for a little while but starts up again, eventually. The second thing is usually involved with the first pretty directly, but I find it much more irritating. Whenever he asks a question and gets an answer, he says, "Ten four." (I have often heard, "Ten four, chief.") If someone tells him something that he needs to know, he says, "Ten four."

I think he says that phrase a couple of hundred times a day and I wish he'd stop. The more I hear him say it, the more it sounds like a kiss off.

I suppose that the more he learns, the less I'll be hearing "ten four," but right now, I don't want to wait. I just want it to be over.

This Was In My Spam This Morning

"goes thus human end not. taught across window anybody?
again bad happened mentioned human pride.
sandwich is young steps slow. gym social did a already.
next she find. few commit respect happened we filled.
bad find gym, fly purpose miserable similar letters."

Of Work and Garfield

From 8:30ish until about 3, minus an hour for lunch, I did work for the Disability Evaluation Unit here at the WCAB. I usually spend less than two hours on it. Why so much time today? Well, Monday was a holiday, so I got all the stuff that would have come for DEU on Monday as well as all the stuff from Tuesday. Those two mail days are my usual mail days, but I do Monday’s mail on Tuesday and Tuesday’s mail on Wednesday, not both days on Wednesday. Plus, there rarely is that much mail for DEU. But I liked having so much time to do DEU paperwork. It’s work that I can just shut my brain down to do. Since I’m not second on the counter this week, I could also put my music on and sing under my breath. (I’ve recently become a little obsessed with the song Veloria, but the Weezer version, not the Pixies one. Maybe it’s because the Pixies’s version is live. Maybe not.) That is what I thought my job would be like, a large pile of paperwork that I had to get through with very few human distractions and me with some music playing, typing away. Most of today happened to be that way, but most of my time here at the WCAB isn’t.

What is the DEU, some of you may have briefly asked yourself before I rambled on about something else entirely? Well, I was going to take time to explain it, but I came across something much more entertaining.

I read this article at Websnark which sent me to this place and made me laugh. It’s all about removing the thought bubbles from Garfield, but leaving Jon’s word balloons. The guy who started the thread was hoping it would be funnier and surrealistic. I have to say that it is. It makes Jon even more pathetic than he is in the regular strips and adds a sense of darkness because it makes it seem like he really doesn’t like himself. If only the real strip were like this.

I Started This Five Hours Ago, At Work

I went to The Bay on Saturday to visit WonderCon. WonderCon was my first "real" comic book convention. (I've been to APE the last two years.) I was struck by how commercial the thing is. I wasn't surprised by the vendor floor, I knew what it was going to be like, (I've been to a couple of Star Trek conventions, so I know what the vendor floor is like, I was expecting that.) but the presentations surprised me. I sat through the DC Universe one and it really sucked. It was all a bunch of marketing bullshit. The "moderator" read the press releases for comics that are coming out then asked the creators to comment on them and nearly every answer was "Wait and see." That sucked. I did sort of upset Mark Waid, which was cool. Near the end of the panel he asked the audience who we'd like to see in DC's 52 and I said, "Beefeater." There was a pause and then he told me that it wasn't time to stump the panel and I told him I wasn't trying to stump the panel, that I'd really like to see Beefeater in the comic. I don't think it's going to happen, but if it does it was all because of me. Next, I accidentally stumbled into the MI 3 panel; it was running late. Instead of Kevin Smith, I heard J.J. Abrams talk about working with a man I don't care about on a movie I don't plan on seeing. The clips were kinda cool, though. Then came Kevin Smith. He was disgusting, crude, and funny, exactly what I was hoping for. I missed the Clerk 2 clip because I wanted to go hear Terry Moore talk about his comic more than... well, almost anything. Terry Moore's panel was the best. He got up in front of about twenty people and said that he'll start talking about stuff and if we have questions just to raise our hands and he'd answer them. He was direct and answered all the questions to the best of his ability, without giving the end of Strangers in Paradise away, which is the way everyone in the room seemed to want it. One thing that I really hated about all the panels was how nearly every question asked started with the questioner kissing ass. As an audience member, I don't care if you thought Felicity was the greatest ever until you saw Alias, which was the greatest until you saw Lost, which you thought would be the best thing to come from J.J. Abrams until you saw the clip from MI 3 and then ask him why Keri Russell's hair was cut short in Felicity. Just ask the question! He's gonna answer it even if you don't plug your lips to his asshole. The worst one was this guy who had a question for Kevin Smith and he started it with, "I'm going to keep this short..." and proceeded to talk about Smith's six movies and what he liked and didn't like for what seemed like five minutes. You know what question askers, they know you like their work, otherwise you wouldn't be there asking a question. They know.

After I left WonderCon, when I finally couldn't take it anymore (which was right after seeing the Pixar short One Man Band, but before the Superman Returns panel) I walked down to Pete's to see my brother. I had to wait a while for him to finish working. We walked back up Market, where he got some news that could be really good or somewhat disappointing, depending on what the situation is, and I freaked out on him a little. I think I made him freak out a little, too.

Saturday was a decent day. Unless I have a table at WonderCon or I'm going with friends, I don't think I'm going back.

* * * * * * * *

So, Heels, Johnny Logic, and their child, whom I shall call Vorchok the Destroyer, are on their way back to California with Vorchok's grandparents driving the moving truck. I bet Heels's mother's idea of making it from there to here in three has really died, considering the snow the middle of the US has been getting in the past couple of days. (If any of the travelers happen to read this, its currently sunny and 62 (at 4:50ish) in the place you're wanting to end up. By the weekend, when you get here, the weather will be much colder and much wetter.) If the three day thing is still possible, they're probably in or about Colorado, which looks to be covered in storms.

Tonight, wingb is off to Hong Kong to visit her family. How many hours of flying is that? 15? I know it's a huge number.

And what are my travel plans for the week? I plan to walk to and from work. I plan on heading over to the mall to get a couple of new shirts for work so I don't have to do the sneaky recycling thing that I have been doing. (The secret to shirt recycling is to know which shirt(s) you're going to recycle and wear it(them) the first day of work after doing laundry then hang it(them) up to air out and wear it(them) as close to laundry day as possible. By then, no one remembers the last time you wore it(them).) Over the weekend, since it's a long one, I'm going to visit my parents and then we'll all be going to visit my dad's parents, where I hope we can play a gave of Spite and Malice or Balderdash or Euchre. And on the last day I'll be driving back to North Bay.

No Shit

I'm pretty sure you've all heard or read about Vice President Dick Cheney shooting his hunting friend (Brokeback Mountain, anyone?) out in Texas.

I'm gonna link to my favorite article, so far. I like it because of the headline. It's called "Cheney Apparently Breaks Key Hunting Rule."

To that, I say, "No shit."

Cryptic?

I'm feeling giddy (yes, giddy) over some of the things I've seen yesterday and today. Tomorrow will hopefully bring even more.

What's George Curious About?

I'm not wearing my shoes because it's hot in here. Really hot. I work on the top floor of a building run by the state, so the air doesn't work all that well. We have very minimal control over the temperature and it seems more like no control on freaky days in February when the temperature is over seventy degrees outside. And it also doesn't help that I work on the west side of the building and there are huge windows all the way to my right. At least I don't sit by the windows. It's probably five to ten degrees hotter over there.

My supervisor and that busybody secretary don't like it when I walk around without my shoes. They think it's unprofessional. Sure, it's okay for the ladies here to come in wearing jeans and a t-shirt (it's not okay if I do), but I'm not supposed to walk from my desk to a shelf to grab a file without putting my shoes back on because there's a possibility that a lawyer might see my clean, white socks with the gray, (supposedly) reinforced toes and heels. The coworkers who work with me think it's funny. I think it's comfortable.

On fronts that have nothing to do with work... nothing is developing.

And that's my report for today.

For Today

In an effort to post something today, I give you a forwarded e-mail from a coworker:

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You will notice the benefits of Tequila(r) almost immediately, and with a regimen of regular doses you can overcome any obstacles that prevent you from living the life you want to live.

Shyness and awkwardness will be a thing of the past, and you will discover many talents you never knew you had. Stop hiding and start living, with Tequila(r).

Tequila(r) may not be right for everyone. Women who are pregnant or nursing should not use Tequila(r). However, women who wouldn't mind nursing or becoming pregnant are encouraged to try it.

Side effects may include dizziness, nausea, vomiting, incarceration, erotic lustfulness, loss of motor control, loss of clothing, loss of money, loss of virginity, delusions of grandeur, table dancing, headache, dehydration, dry mouth, and a desire to sing Karaoke and play all-night rounds of Strip Poker, Truth Or Dare, and Naked Twister.

Tequila(r). Leave Shyness Behind(tm).

Sunday

I don't want to go to work tomorrow.

I don't want to use a sick day, though.

I still can't use vacation.

The first of three Josh Kornbluth live shows, since he has his on PBS talk show, will be here a little over a month. That's something I'm really looking forward to.

Right now, I don't really know what I'm doing. I feel like I'm typing with my eyes closed on a DVORAK keyboard.

I'm hungry and I'm tired.

I'm waiting for my food to finish cooking.

Monk is on the TV, so I'm listening to it as I write this. Out of so many good episodes, I get a real stinker right now. Hopefully the next will be better.

The timer just beeped. That, hopefully, means my food is done.

I may have more tomorrow.

I may not.

A Work Week Rant

Words are not here for me today.

I'm bored. Bored. Bored. Bored.

(I'm also tired. So very tired. Sleep would be a wonderful thing. If I can't sleep properly during the night, should I expect to sleep properly during the day? Maybe pills are the answer; I've met people who think they are. Does anyone know of a quack who'll write me a prescription for valium just because I ask?)

Yes, I do have work at my desk, but if I finish it today, I won't have any on Monday and then someone will take it upon herself to find me something to do and I don't want that to happen. Does anyone out there want that to happen? I barely have enough work to make me look busy during the day if I really spread it out. On the days, like today, when I don't have enough I get worried.

Why do I get worried? I get worried because when other people decide that they have to find other things for me to do it's utterly useless crap. What good does it do me to pick up the paperclips in someone else’s area? Shouldn't I clean my own cubic-type area before cleaning someone else’s? Except, of course, if I have time to really clean-up over here, I'm not busy enough doing work, therefore I should be served a handful of someone else’s work because that person doesn't know how to manage time, or can't stop speaking with coworkers while not on breaks, or has no clue how to actually do the job she was hired for. Wait, maybe it's all three of those reasons.

And so I'm sitting, writing this and hitting Alt-Tab quickly whenever I think I hear someone coming up behind me.

There's a scene in Office Space where Peter is speaking with the two Bobs about his work and he says, "That's my only real motivation, not to be hassled..." and I'm starting to feel the same way. Sure, I don't have the insanity of eight different bosses, but still, if I'm seen as not busy, even if I am (which, oddly enough is when I'm hassled the most, when I'm actually working) busy my supervisor, or the nosey secretary, will come around and ask me if I have stuff to do, if I'm busy enough. At least there are no TPS reports. Although, two weeks ago we had to fill out this stupid language survey. It was filled with all these pre-written hash marks that I had to use a pencil to mark on, but I couldn't actually see the mark I made on the already black hash mark. What ever happened to filling in the freaking bubbles?

Blah blah blah? Blah blah blahblah blah blah blah blah blah. Blahblah, blah blah blah'blah blah blah blah blah blah blahblah blah blah blah blah blahblah blah blahblah. Blah blahblah blah blah blah blah blah blah?

I just learned that we're hiring a new person. So, that means less actual work. More pretending to work. And an unhappier me.

I suppose I should be happy that it's a guy who's close to my age, but I don't see how that's a good thing. It may seem crazy, but I'd rather there be only me or two of us paper pushers here so that I'm actually kept busy during the day. I'd like to be so busy that I don't have time to sit and think about... stuff. With enough work I could just shut my brain down and run on autopilot, I'd only occasionally have to remind myself to chew my gum.

Sure, I remember complaining about those couple of days where it was just me working here, but on those days the woman who's in charge of the front counter wasn't here either, so I was stuck with all the paperwork and dealing with the idiot masses at the counter. As long as she's here to run interference with lawyers and such, and my only job is to get my paperwork done, I think I'd be fine. But that's not going to happen.

What I really don't understand is why the people in charge think we need someone else? Just because the people even higher up say that our office can have another person, does that mean we should when it's just a waste of money? I work for the state, though, and everyone knows that the state won't let common sense and a multi-billion dollar deficit, for the past couple of years, stand in the way of getting something that they think they deserve.

Well, part of it could be, if I actually try to think highly of the people in this place, that they're also trying to prepare for the possible worst. A couple of years ago, there was a hiring freeze in this department and as people left for other positions within the state this office had to handle the same workload with less and less people, including the calendar clerk and the secretaries. So, if I want to think well of the people I work for, they're trying to keep the number of people currently here at a maximum just in case there's another freeze on hiring and we, who currently work her, take advantage.

I really want to leave. It's 4:23 by the clock in the corner of my monitor. I'm not supposed to leave. They won't let me leave, even though I'm here five to ten minutes early every day. Sure, I don't actually start doing work until sometime after eight. (How long after eight depends on whether my supervisor is here, how much work I have left from the day before, if I've found something interesting to read on the 'net, and other variable that I can't think of at this moment.) I tried, right before Christmas, to convince my supervisor to let me come in an hour earlier each day and let me leave an hour earlier. She said no. She said no because when I'm second on the counter (every third week now, every fourth week when the new guy gets here) they need me here until five. Does she even realize that between four and five we get, maybe, three people at the front counter and rarely do any of them need help. So far today, we haven't had anyone at the front counter.

Alright, my look busy and redo the same work I've been doing all afternoon is now over. My supervisor has gone back to her seat by the windows and the nosey secretary has finally realized that to use her e-mail and get the document that she wanted e-mailed to her, she has to be at her desk using her computer.

I'm not really a lazy person. Well, not at work, at least. I may not like the work that I'm doing, I may not think it's fun, but I do it quickly and accurately. If there is more that needs to be done, I'll do it. But there are some things that I don't like: 1) When the work is split evenly between three of us and only one of us can't seem to complete it so that almost every week her work is then divided between the three of us. 2) Having people from other areas come to me and demand that I go make copies for them or doing their filing even though I'm working and it's not my job to be making copies or doing their filing. 3) Having said people get upset and then go complain to my supervisor that I'm not helping them so that my supervisor comes to me and tells me that I should put down what I'm doing, remember that it's actual work that I'm paid to do, and go make the copies or do the filing. 4) People finding me on my break, I'm usually reading, and their not and they want to speak with me about work--what's going on, the amount, any bullshit that keeps them from doing their work--and they get a upset at me for not looking up from my book because, you know, I'm the one who's being rude.

I'm stopping this list now. It's only making me more upset.

The fact that it's Friday isn't making me feel any better because it means I'm just that much closer to another week of bullshit.

"Welcome to the 'real world,' Josh. Sorry you're not enjoying you stay, but that's the way it is until you figure out what you want to do that you actually can do."

If I actually thought that I'd be happy working as a laborer at one of the too many vineyards around here, I'd apply. Too bad I know I wouldn't be happy there.

I guess some words were here for me today.

Hunting the Elusive Klingon

If I had a digital camera, I'd have to do some Klingon Hunting next weekend.

Best Thing I Read Today

"Furthermore, with all due respect, I don't believe that the Defendant can possibly know what is in the Plaintiff's best interest."

Today...

Embers were stirred.

Here Cometh the Weekend

I've spent the last two hours reading stuff on the 'net but trying to look like I was actually doing work. I don't know if I succeeded, but I wasn't pestered by my supervisor.

Soon, I will be off and away.

Have yourself a decent weekend.

16

I woke up this morning with this thought rattling through my brain: Only sixteen more hours of work this week. Then I thought: Eighteen hours if I count lunches. Finally, I thought: Nineteen if I count walking to and from work.

By the time I leave, I'll be down to eight hours, or nine hours, or nine hours forty-five minutes, depending on how you want to look at it.

Today was also a meeting of the union, of which I am not yet a full member. Money is taken from my pay so they can bargain for me, but more money has to be taken away for me to actually be a member of the union. That, to me, seems silly.

I also had my first, although it should be my second, review today. I did well. The PJ is letting me take the thing back to my apartment with me so I can read over everything before I sign anything. I think that was nice of him.

I'm off this weekend to the big city to visit with my brother and a friend. (The same two people in the picture I mentioned earlier.) We're to talk about a possible future in publishing. Right now my outlook is bright and bleak, sunny and stormy, half-full and half-empty; you choose the metaphor.

That's all for today.

A Question

While working, if someone comes over to me and says, with no provocation from me, "Any job worth doing is worth doing well." is it okay for me to tell them whether or not the job is worth doing at all?

Why I Should Staple My Lips Together Before I Go To Work

Friday, one of the ladies here at the office asked me why I hadn't brought anything to decorate my area. I hadn't really thought about it before and told her so.

Today, I brought in a phone that a friend sent me of her and my brother and pinned it up.

After my break in the morning, the lady who asked me about decorating asked me who the photo was of.

"My friend and my brother," I said.

"Really," she said, "who's the oriental girl?"

"That's my brother."

She hasn't talked to me again so far today.

And I've taken the photo down after I caught one of the other ladies staring at it when I came back from lunch.

Eighth

And... we're done.

Seventh

Almost there.

Testing

The Deviant Geek You answered 79% of the questions as a geek truly would.

You're a geek and you know it. You've got all sorts of fringe hobbies and socially unacceptable tendencies. Chances are, whenever possible, you hate to be grouped with other people and sometimes go out of your way just to be different. You're smart too. You're more willing to depend on your own brainpower to solve problems, instead of relying on others to pull you through life. You probably read a lot, and generally enjoy learning new things. So what's it all mean? You may be considered by some to be uncool, but you probably don't care either. In social situations you may be either slightly passive or slightly loud (geeks always fall into the extremes).In a nutshell, you answered enough questions correctly supporting a geek philosophy to be considered a more potent geek than 60% of thepopulation.

My test tracked 1 variable How you compared to other people your age and gender: You scored higher than 68% on geekness

Sixth

Different, but exactly the same.

Work Day

"It's quite chilly."

"There's frost everywhere."

"It sure is nippy out there."

"The air has a sharp chill to it."

"I can't believe how freezing it's gotten."

And so many other ways to say that it was cold this morning. Around the office, talk of the temperature seems to be the main discussion point all... day... long. Shouldn't stating the obvious once during the work day be enough for people?

On a different note, the person who I complained about being gone has returned. I still don't know why she was gone, and I don't really care. I just wish that my supervisor had been willing to give me a straight answer all of those times I asked her if the woman who was gone was ever going to come back. Rumor around the office is that my supervisor didn't even know until twenty minutes before the return today. Part of me is happy, her return means less work for me. Part of me is frustrated, her return means spending more time trying to look like I'm busy even though I've already finished my work.

Here's a little talk I had with someone today:

"Did you see Mr. [insert lawyer name here] today?" she asked.

"No."

"He came in in his sweatpants and a beany."

"Great."

"It was just the funniest thing."

"Was it?"

"I wish you could have seen it."

"Why? Did you think I'd..." My voice trailed off. I flushed. I couldn't complete my thought in front of a coworker. I was going to say, "Why? Did you think I'd cream my pants seeing his little beany and sweats."

She stared at me.

I turned away from her and back to my computer.

Today's song: Breakfast at Tiffany's by Deep Blue Something

Fifth

The Office was funny last night.



And soon comes the weekend.

Fourth

At the midpoint.

Third

What did I tell you yesterday?



After last night, I guess there are some other things that happen, but the stuff surrounding it is always the same.

My Walk

Do you remember when I wrote about what I told I my co-workers about me walking to my apartment in the rain?

Well, it's raining today and guess what happened. About an hour-and-a-half ago.

It's not like I told my co-workers, though.

I was crossing a street, after looking both ways because people in this town who drive between five and six tend to ignore red lights, when I felt something slid along my front, and not in that sexy way, and then something hit me on my right side. That's when I saw the black hood of a car in front of me. I looked to the right and saw the white door and that the side mirror was folded back, like they're supposed to when they hit something. The something was me. I looked through the windshield and saw a guy, I think he had a cup to his lips but I'm not sure, with all the whites of his eyes showing. I either gave him a nasty look which said, "What the fuck do you think your fucking doing you fucking asshole!" or a pitiful look which said, "How could you hit me? What did I do to deserve this?" I took a step back from the car and saw the SR police logo on the door and it's motto (or whatever) which is "Community, Service, Integrity." I would have laughed if I wasn't feeling angry and sad. The door opened and I walked around the front and got off the road. The cop parked the car on the side of the road, got out, walked over, and talked to me.

First, he wanted to know if I was okay. Did I need an ambulance? I was okay. I didn't need an ambulance.

Then he started looking for something in his jacket, his pants pockets, on his belt. It wasn't there, so he headed back to his car. He came back with his cell phone.

He called someone. He took down my information. I couldn't remember my phone number. He said, "Can't see a thing in this rain." It wasn't raining that hard. He tried to make small talk. I just wanted to leave. I found myself wishing that he'd just driven off after he saw that I could walk.

I never thought I'd hope to be part of a hit and run.

Fifteen minutes after I first noticed the clock in the shop we were standing near, a cruiser pulled up. The guy got out and asked me for my information and my license. Once again, I couldn't remember my phone number. Another cop pulled up and took the one who hit me around the corner to speak with him. That's when the officer who just took my information asked me what happened. I told him. We stared out into the intersection. I saw a car run a red light, the fourth I'd seen since standing there waiting. He decided to make small talk. The same exact questions that the other guy had asked. Once he exhausted his questions, he went around the corner with my license then came back and wanted to take a picture of my translucent right love handle to show that I was okay.

And then we waited. At 5:55, I was watching the clock, I was finally given a card with the case number on it and asked to call and leave a message with my phone number.

Now I'm here.

I'm okay.

I'm not even bruised.

I'm not going to tell the ladies at work about this. They already don't like me walking in the rain.

I wonder what all the people walking past me were thinking about as I stood there with three cops.

How are you?

It's a Day

Here I sit with about thirty minutes of my work day left. I should be working. I've been going really slow all day so that I can look like I'm doing stuff and now I actually have a pile of work that's been sorted, but needs to be entered in the computer. I figure that I'll be able to go at a normal speed tomorrow and probably get finished with everything on my desk. Is it wrong of me to feel bad that I'm not working to my full potential? Shouldn't I be wanting to move my work quickly so I can show the people in charge that I'm a hard worker who knows how to get his work done?

Friday, I had two of the people here--one a secretary, who's been a secretary for twenty-odd years, and the other is in charge of the DEU--give me a nudge toward becoming a legal secretary here in the office. There are a couple of problems, however. The secretary pointed out that I need to take a test or a class or something before I could move over to that position. The DEU woman told me that she had actually spoken with the PJ and told him that I should fill the vacant secretary position that we currently have, the problem with that is I can't be moved until my probation is over, which isn't for another eight weeks, and the PJ wants to fill the slot ASAP and, unless you're God, eight weeks is not ASAP.

And then the question appears: Do I really want to take the job?

The answers: Yes and No.

Yes, it'd mean I'd no longer have to face the public during the day and I'd get an immediate bump up on my paycheck.

No, there aren't ways to get promoted being a legal secretary and the highest pay for the position is about $200 less than the highest pay for the OT position I have now.

*sigh*

I'm tired. I don't understand why. Well, that's not true, I do know why, it's because I'm not sleeping well. I climb into bed getting tired, read a bit, turn off the light, and stay awake for the next couple of hours. Why does this happen? If it's because my brain won't shut down, I can't remember and usually I do remember what I was thinking about in all it's minutia.

I guess there's something worrying me that won't let me sleep and also won't actually let me know what it is.

I watched the season premiere of 24 the last two nights and found myself wishing that I was watching it with someone else who's a fan of the show so I would have someone to break it all down with during the commercials. Someone to talk to about the characters and help me remember when and where we met some of them. Especially the ones who were introduced during the second and third seasons because I think I only watched about eight episodes of each of those seasons.

Well, it's like two minutes before I head out of here.

Hope all is well with you and come February 10 you will join me in boycotting the opening ceremonies of the Olympics and watch two hours of Arrested Development.

Second

It's going to get repetitive.

First

There are many more to come.

The Truth

Today's Bob the Angry Flower is exactly how I feel.

Computer Generated Resolution

I haven't made a New Year's resolution since my freshman year of highschool. I don't plan on making any for the rest of my life. When I saw the silliness of someone else who did this I had to click and get mine.

In the year 2006 I resolve to: Quit making the same damn mistakes in my life! Get your resolution here

Mine isn't as silly as I was hoping.

A Question

Do you remember how you learned The Pledge of Allegiance?

Did your kindergarten teacher sit your class down and go over it word for word?
Or did you learn by osmosis, hearing it spoken over and over again in school?

I can't remember how I learned it. I assume it was through osmosis because I had the afternoon kindergarten class and don't remember saying it in the morning but we said it every day in first grade.

Hablar Inglés

On the English TV stations on which it appears, Dora the Explorer helps to teach kids a few Spanish word. I noticed that Dora also shows up on Spanish stations. Do you think she tries to teach those kids some English?

Pointless

A few minutes ago, my supervisor walked around the office with a ruler measuring the stacks of work we all have left over from last month. In our office we have 3 and 3/4 inches of work.

What does this tell us? Nothing. What does it tell the people in the capital? Nothing.

All this work is in baskets at our desks. The baskets are already taking up space on desks and shelves, so the work couldn't take up anymore room than the baskets already do unless we have massive amounts of work here... maybe. See, we quite often get these things we call Stips or C&Rs which come with enormous quantites of medical files. I have one at my desk right now that's between 1 1/2 and 2 inches tall, 1 inch is about average. I've had ones that were probably 4 inches tall. It's still one piece of work. Other things, like Apps or petitions, are usually only 4 or 5 piece of paper. What involves more work left to do 4 inches of Stips or 4 inches of apps?

I asked my supervisor how it helps to measure the height of the work left when she already went around earlier and counted the quantity of the work we have left over from last month.

She said it doesn't help. She said it's made just to waste time. She doesn't understand why The State makes her do it.

The weird thing is that if I had noticed her doing this measuring thing a month ago, I would have thought she was insane. Today it's just another pointless thing we have to do.

Today's Post is...

I'm getting sick of posting only complaints about work.

Are you getting sick of me complaining about work?

So, I decided that today I'd try to think of two good (which may be a very relative term here) things that happened today.

1. All of last weeks DEU stuff (which I haven't explained and don't want to now) is finished. Yes, I did do all four days worth, two today, but at least it's done and I won't go into work tomorrow thinking that I still have to do last weeks stuff. Everything on my desk comes from today.

2. Someone brought in cookies. Sure, they weren't homemade but they were full of fat and sugar. Yum.

Today's song: "Smoke" by Ben Folds Five

And To All A Good Night

We all have our own way.



This should go up tomorrow, but I'm done now and I already know this is what I'll be doing.

Not

It has been revealed to me, through my extensive network of secretive sources, that the person I was told had been hired to fill the empty OT slot informed my supervisor by letter, last week, that he will not be joining us.

Part of me is upset because him not coming means me doing more work for other people who claim the workload is too heavy and they just can't complete it (in the two hours a day they don't spend speaking with coworkers or browsing the 'net).

Most of me is okay because it doesn't matter. We can all get our work done quickly and on time if they actually buckle-down and do the work.

And now it's almost time to go.

They're Heeeeeere

Well, nearly everyone is here today. That's good because I won't have to work at full power and still not get all of my work done for the day. It's bad because these people are all standing around chatting about... whatever. I'm so looking forward to the day after tomorrow. And I don't mean the shitty movie.

Dashed Out

I have decided to do no more work today. What does that make me?

So far, this week has not been a good one. The woman who was gone all of last week, but to the best of my knowledge only asked for last Monday off, hasn't been here this week and hasn't, also to the best of my knowledge, called to say she's not/wasn't going to be in. (Some of the other people who work here think it has to do with her mother, but I think that even if I was taking care of my mother I could find two minutes to call work and leave a messages saying that I won't be in for two weeks.) One lady had scheduled yesterday and today off two weeks ago. And another one called in sick yesterday and said that she was hoping to make it in on Thursday.

Yesterday, that left me, the one office assistant we have, and my supervisor. Yesterday evening my supervisor told me that she wasn't going to be in for the rest of the week.

Today, there was only me and the one office assistant.

Today was also the busiest day on the schedule for the week.

I've spent my whole day, up until a few minutes ago and my breaks, doing almost all the work. Office assistants are not supposed to deal with the paperwork that requires files to be pulled or are money documents. I'm a fortunate person who gets to do it all.

Last night, I had my in basket empty (because I had all the things that needed files pulled piled on my desk waiting for this morning). When I got here this morning there was a huge stack waiting for me. Why? I asked myself. Because, I replied, your supervisor said she'd help by doing some of the gigantic pile of mail that you had to sort and stamp earlier today. I guess she couldn't finish or didn't try to finish the chunk she gave herself while she was chatting up the PJ's secretary on their two hour lunch.

At this moment, I'm at the same point I was when I left yesterday. Files that needed to be pulled are pulled. The sit on my desk waiting for me to go through them. Put loose papers in their proper order. Check the address record. Drain the blood of ten virgin chickens over them to help with the prayer for a quick and just decision when they reach the hands of the judges.

I don't want to do it though. I want to get up and walk out. Or, since that'd probably get me fired, at least put on my music. I can't, though. I have to be alert for when someone comes through the door and needs my help because I'm the only one here who's at the proper level to deal with real people be they in person or on the phone.

And so far eleven minutes have been spent writing/whining.

Maybe I'll look up Atlantis at Wikipedia, that should be interesting.

Keepin' Up

I forgot I wouldn't be able to put it up yesterday, but here it is today.

Strippin'

There is a new comic strip for today. However, I thought that since I'll be seeing family on Sunday that I'd post here on Monday. It has been posted elsewhere, for those who know where to look.

Have a nice weekend.

Regret

One of my biggest regrets, right now, is that I can't reach through the computer and throttle a person.

Something I'll Never Say To My Coworkers Ever Again

Yesterday, I was asked by a coworker, "When it's raining, like it is today, do you still walk to work?"

"Sure," I said. "I keep an umbrella in my bag all the time, just in case."

"Aren't you worried?"

"About what?"

"Getting hit by a car?"

"Nah," I said, smiling. "The only way a car is gonna hit me is if it hits a large puddle of water causing it to hydroplane out of control and once the wheels hit the pavement again it's pointing toward me and the idiot driver had slammed his foot onto the gas so it catches the road really well and bucks the car over the curb then races forward and slams me into a wall pinning me there where I whimper in the cold and rain as the driver fiddles with his cell phone and other cars slow down to see what happens, but don't stop to help. But I don't see that happening."

She looked at me like I had just died and walked away.

The rest of the day I had lots of coworkers take me aside and ask if everything was okay in that calm voice that is supposed to make them sound like they care about me and my state of being.

And that, dear peoples, is why I try not to say anything at work. Especially things that I think are funny.

Comic Dump

Got to work early to do this.

So Many Boxes

I was/am not boxing files today.

There were/are two reasons for this:
Reason the First -- Today was/is our holiday or Christmas (depending on which employee you ask) potluck. I knew it was today. I brought toffee. I was ready. The problem was/is that boxes needed/need to be built so I can file. I would/will use the counter that the food was (eventually) put on to stack empty boxes. Therefore, no boxing.

Reason the Second -- The person who doesn't know how to get her work done isn't here today. When a person is missing, I'm not allowed out of my little area unless it's for a break or to find a file. Therefore, no boxing.

Tomorrow's not looking like a good day for boxing either. Maybe not any day this week.

I'll surivive, even though I'd rather not be at my desk.

At least I get off work at noon on Friday. I'll be at my parent's house five hours earlier than I would have been. Hooray!

Christmas Stories

I'm trying to do this every year and hopefully build upon these great stories.

Here's the first one:
Grinch's True End, first heard on 8 December 2003 on NPR, about 3 minutes long.
Best line: "Now I'm not sure what kind of inverted Stockholm Syndrom took place while I waited on the roof, but I do know it all could have been solved with a hard shove and a quick exit."

And here's last years:
A Fool for Christmas, first heard on 24 December 2005 on NPR about 23 minutes long.
Best Line: "Well, at the food court over fried dumplins and Butter-Bean, I'm askin' what I usually ask my dates: who kids real father is."

I'm still on the listen for this years. I have five more days.

4:46

It's 9:57 and I'm finished with my work. I would have been done a half hour ago, but I spent the first thirty minutes or work dicking around on the internet. I read my e-mail. I read other people's blogs. I checked out some comic news and movie/TV news. I looked at the "What's New" on Snopes.com. I screwed around with that Google Local thing; I really wish that I could zoom in really close to Cowtown, but the satellite image won't let me.

Now it's 10:00 and I'm going on my break. I'll be back in fifteen or so minutes.

And now it's 10:22. Yes, I came back late from my break. Does it really matter? I'm not second this week. That means I don't have to come back to relieve the woman who's first up. So I took some extra time reading. I took that extra time to make up for the five minutes I had to spend chit-chatting with my supervisor when she came into the break room (which is also when she came into work) at 10:08ish. Silly chit-chat about her getting her shopping done, looking for more stocking stuffers, baking cookies, and stringing popcorn. My time is better spent, I think, reading than making pleasantries with those whom I don't socialize with. Oh well.

I finished a book last night. It was Hey Nostradamus!: A Novel, by Douglas Coupland. Buying this book was probably the best $3.99 I've ever spent at Barnes and Noble. The only reason I picked it up is because I really enjoyed Microserfs, which Coupland also wrote. Nostradamus is not much like Microserfs, though. Sure, there's humor and quirky characters, but the tone is different. Sad. It's not really a story. There's no specific plot, but there are these characters who exist wholly in the real world and in a world of their own creation. The book is very sad and a little sweet and the beginning is surprisingly violent. I don't want to write a "real" review of it because all the reviews that I've read (this morning, thank goodness) give away the beginning, which, in my opinion (I just figured out what IMHO stands for. I hate l33t.), is more important to this book than the end. I bought this book, probably, two months ago without really reading the blurb about the story and when I picked it up to read (only because I forgot that I have a book that my mom loaned me) I didn't read the blurb again, and I'm glad that I didn't because the beginning shocked me and I would have lost that shock if I had read anything about the book.

Now it's 10:45 and my supervisor decided that I need to do some filing for the woman who I keep having to do work for.

It's 12:02 by the clock in the corner of my computer. I had about 200 documents to be dropped off in files ranging in dates from May, the month she started working here, to December. About two-thirds of them went into files that are on the shelf. I had to check the other third in the computer. Of that third, about two-thirds of those went to judges who are holding the files for trials or hearing or other reasons that I'm not meant to understand because I'm not a judge, nor am I a judge's secretary.

So, here I sit writing this, to the few of you who visit, because I am once again out of work that I can complete. (I do have some other work, but the system is down that I need to finish that work, so it sits in a neat stack on my desk, waiting for tomorrow when the system may be up again.) In between sentences, I'm e-mailing with my mom about stuff. Nothing important, just stuff.

Oh, the book that I just started this morning, on my break, is Mirror, Mirror by Gregory Magurire, the guy who wrote the novel of Wicked. (Have I mentioned, recently, how much I really liked the play and wish that I could go and see it again?) This one's about Snow White, if you didn't guess from the title of the book. I'm hoping to have it finished by Friday so I can return it to my mom. If it's half as good as Wicked, I should be.

What else... What else...

My comic strip.

Nobody's written to say that they want new comics wondering why I haven't updated in a long time, which probably means that none of you visit this site for the comics. Which is okay by me. I have all the ones from Halloween to New Years written (on time to get them out on the date that's at the top of the frame); I just haven't actually sat down to finish them. I think my biggest problem is that I work when I used to do the comic. Sure, I'd scribble out some ideas on a piece of paper, maybe even sketch, very roughly, the panels at any other time of day, but the time I'd actually sit down and make the strip on my computer would be between noon and 5PM. I did some of them earlier and some of them later than that, but very few. And, for some reason, I rarely made them on weekends. Now I think I have to buckle down and get them finished. I'm not exactly sure why I think that, but I do. So, look for a whole s-lode of them later this week, hopefully.

It's 12:26 and my supervisor just got out of a meeting and gave me a look of evil, probably because I'm sitting here typing away like... something that types a lot, and fast... instead of searching out work. I've asked this before, I think, and I'm sure I'll ask it again but why if I've finished my work and I've finished other people's work in a short amount of time should I be glared at as if I've done something wrong.

People are crazy and sometimes huge jerks and it seems to be that way everywhere.

The problem with being good at what you do and doing what you're supposed to do is that when, for a brief moment, you come down to the level of everyone else you work with is that you get caught and told off for slacking. Then when you point out that you're working at the same level as everyone else, they get even madder because you've just pointed out a double standard and to most people that means you've called them a hypocrite. And I've yet to meet anyone who likes to be called a hypocrite. It happened to me when I worked at 'Bucks a lot more than it should have. It's happening to my brother who works for Pete's. And it's happening here, just not in that I'm gonna take you aside and yell at you sort of way. Here, the supervisor is much more passive-aggressive about it. She gives me looks with a frown that's trying to reach the floor or one with thin lips and squinty eyes. She comes to my desk and asks, "What should you be doing now?" I step away from my desk and when I come back I find a new pile of work in my once empty basket and all the documents are dated from a week ago, or more.

*ugh*

I've been away for a while. My mom just gave me a link to my aunt's MySpace thingy, which is linked to brother's and cousin's thingies and my may-be-sister-in-law-one-day. Best quote found on them, so far, is "Was that comment about you being sarcastic ... sarcastic? Ah, the age old question, 'how can you trust a liar to be honest?'..." Excellent.

Lunch time. I'll be back in an hourish.

I'm back. It's 2:03. There's a pile of work in my basket. Big surprise. Before I get to work here's something that made my day a little brighter: Someone brought in a huge pile of Ghiradelli chocolate. Among the chocolate are dark chocolates. The ingredients for the dark chocolates are: "Unsweetened Chocolate, Sugar, Cocoa Butter, Milk Fat, Soy Lecithin - An Emulsifier, Vanilla." Chocolate is the number one ingredient. Now that's what I'm talkin' 'bout.

Back to work.

The time is 3:13 and I'm off to my last break of the day. I'm finished with the work I was given, but I can see the pile over on the supervisors bar thing.

I'm off.

It's 3:45 and I'm sitting here with a pile of work to my left. It's all sorted into what I have to do with the documents. The top part is work that I need to screen on the computer because I have to pull the files to give to the judges or the calendar clerk and then I'll have to enter the data into the system after I pull the files and straighten then out; if I'm lucky, some of the documents will be given straight to the judges with me not having to do anything. The middle is work that I need to screen in the computer and enter anything that needs to be entered and then I get to drop the papers into the files. The bottom chunk is for the stuff that opens new files/cases, how ever you want to look at it. The stack I have isn't huge and if I was into doing my work today I could probably finish it all, but I feel like leaving some for tomorrow.

Tomorrow, I plan on boxing up files. I'll spend the whole day, minus breaks and lunch, listening to music, writing with a stinky pen, and clearing off shelves. I won't have to deal with my coworkers. I won't have to deal with the few attorneys and injured workers and insurance attorneys that are coming.

(Apparently an accident just happened at the intersection near this building. My supervisor has pulled up all the blinds on her windows and is peering down into the street. I wonder what she's thinking. She keeps staring out the window and just asked the woman nearest her, the presiding judge's secretary, if she's seen this. Is there something wrong with me that I don't want to get up and see an accident? All I want to do is sit here typing this and I keep hoping that no one was hurt.)

Have I mentioned that we have almost no one coming in this week and next week? The calendar clerk, who's also my supervisor, blocked off these two weeks so the judges can play catch-up and make their records look good for the New Year. That means that tomorrow is the busiest day in these two weeks because two judges actually opened up their schedule and had the calendar clerk schedule stuff. Today, we've only had secretaries from law offices come in and drop off work for me and chat up the clerk who's always number one on the counter. It's nice because it's quiet. Those lawyers sit out there talking and try to out-voice each other so that their clients can hear them. The quiet is nice. If only my supervisor weren't here.

I just read, for the few of the few who are interested, that Watchmen has now been picked up by Warner Bros to be made into a movie. When it comes to movies made out of comics or books that I like I'm always worried. This one especially. Those who haven't read it need to understand that this comic is one of the tightest and best written comics, ever. To cut any scene would take away from the amazing characterization, since that is what this book is mostly about. And then there's the fact that the writer of the book hates the company whom he wrote it for and hates Warner Bros because they own the company that published the book. One interesting suggestion, from a fan, is that David Lynch should direct it. That, I think, is a good suggestion.

The fleshy area just below the bridge of my nose hurts. It feel like one of those pre-zit you get on you cheek that just ache and ache for many, many days before it finally rears it ugly redness and then it still hurts and you can't pop it because there's no head, so you just have to wait for a head or squeeze it so it hurts more but at least you get that moment of relief after the squeeze or just hope it goes away on its own. Yeah, that's what it feels like, but I've never felt it on my nose before. I'm very glad that I don't have glasses that sit directly on the bridge of my nose because if I did the glasses would be rubbing against the sore spot constantly causing me more and more pain. Does that make me a fortunate person?

It's now 4:29. I have screened all the work that needs to be screened. The screened stuff now sits to my right in four piles depending on what I have to do with each of them. To my left sits a pile that will create new files/cases. If I start them now, I'll have to finish them tomorrow because my supervisor hates it when new files sit at our desks with nothing happening to them. That's not the reason I don't want to do them, though. I just don't want to do them. I will though. I know I will. I'll get them done, get my desk cleared off, and come in tomorrow and, hopefully, box.

One more thing, I wrote that I hate l33t earlier and when I was looking over stuff on MySpace, it's like the only language there is l33t. One of my cousins seems to write everything in l33t and she doesn't capitalize. It makes me want to scream and bite. Most blog places have a spell check, use it people. And the shift key isn't that hard to use either. And for those of you who may try to be funny and put a comment in l33t, I expect it and I won't get angry. I'll just think you're an asshole and an idiot.

Okay, now it's time to transfer this (4:42), which is being written in Notepad (I like the simplicity of it), into Word for a quick spell check and then to post it.

Have a good evening.

Good Eatin'

I go out to lunch about once a month.

It gets me away from the office and I get to eat something that’s not between two slices of bread.

Today, I went to the Mongolian BBQ place in the mall. They have an okay selection of stuff. I freaked the lady behind me out when I kept piling the cilantro on. I like that herb quite a bit.

After lunch I walked across the food court for a Blizzard(TM) because even when the temperature outside is below 50F, you can’t keep a fat man away from his ice cream. I added Reese’s to it. It was good and made my hands very cold on the walk back to work.

Right now, I should be doing my work. Going and pulling files. Looking up information on the computer. Dancing for my pennies. I don’t want to though. My supervisor has handed me a pile of work from the desk of a woman who isn’t here today. The work is over a week old. Is it my fault that she didn’t finish her work? Am I the one that causes her to be away from her desk for four hours a day speaking with the secretaries and court reporters? This woman has been gone for two days and hasn’t gotten an equal share of the work since last Friday.

*sigh*

Thank goodness I don’t have to be back here for 62 hours, in about 25 minutes that is.

Done.

I finished the new Wheel of Time last night. Those people who were saying that it was like reading the first books again haven't read the first books. Except for the fact that it ties up four (by my count) story lines and it confirms a theory I've had for the past -- uh, when did Rand form the Black Tower -- way too many books, it was pretty much like the last four. That means that almost nothing happens and the wait for the end seems even farther away.

A Joke A Lawyer Just Told Me

Him: Did you here that there's a lot of snow in Washington DC?

Me: No.

Him: There's so much snow that Dick Cheney had to take the chains off a detainee to move his car.

Is Funny Better?

Many of you, like me, have probably seen that commercial where Santa goes to a jewelry store and buys a gift for his wife. The lady at the counter asks if she's been nice this year and Santa says she has. And it ends with Santa giving the gift to his wife.

From the first time I saw it, I wish that they had gone for the joke.

What is the joke, some of you may be asking?

The commercial starts exactly the same. The lady asks Santa if Mrs. Claus has been nice. Santa looks at the lady, gives a sly smile, and says, "She's been a little naughty." And it ends with Santa giving the gift to his wife.

How funny would that be? If that's the way the commercial had been when I first saw it, I think I'd've laughed so hard I'd've wet myself.

Funny

Even if you don't take it, read the questions and the answers.

http://www.spacefem.com/quizzes/militantfeminist/

4 Days

On Saturday, I watched Shopgirl at the movie theater. Way back when the book came out there were a couple of you who wondered why I like it so much, well to those of you, who probably don’t remember who you are, I say go see the movie. It captures nearly everything that made the book… spectacular. Yeah, there are a few things that I wish hadn’t been changed. And I think that the few narration moments in the movie would have been better if a woman had done it, but that’s a small complaint. I highly recommend this movie.

On Sunday, I bought the newest Wheel of Time book. It’s called Knife of Dreams. I saw it. It was on sale. So I bought it. Now I’m reading it. From what I’ve read about it, it’s better than the last several. According to those people, it’s like Robert Jordan is actually telling a story again, rather than trying to tie up loose ends.

Today, I’ve spent most of my time at work reading things on the internet. I finished all my work on Friday expecting to box files today, but that can not happen.

Tomorrow, I’ll be doing work again.

Just A Short One

Thanks to the few of you who answered my question.

I'm off in about forty minutes. Tomorrow I'm going to the see a movie. Day after that is all about something else, but I don't know what.

Have a decent time this weekend.

Something I Shouldn’t Use Around My Supervisor, Again

"Will you resurrect this file for me?"

You Ask One Question...

...and only get one answer.

On another note, I didn’t go to work yesterday. I woke up, slid out of bed and onto the floor. I sat there for a while, shivering. I pulled myself up and wobbled around the room and into the bathroom. My face was whiter than usual and drawn. I decided to take my temperature. I grabbed my thermometer, wobbled my way back to my bed, lay down, and popped the thermometer under my tongue. A few minutes later, I pulled it out and looked. 100.2. I knew then that I wasn’t going to work. I put the thermometer near my alarm which I reset and promptly fell asleep.

An hour later, I slid out of bed and wobbled my way to the phone. I called work and said I wouldn’t be coming in. My boss asked my why and I said because my temperature was over a hundred. She said okay.

I wobbled back to bed and didn’t sleep. My whole body ached. My skin was in that horrible hyper sensitive state.

Eventually, I stumbled out to the living room coated myself in all my blankets and turned on the TV. I don’t remember what was on, though.

After noon, I decided to take my temperature again. This time it was 102.3. Not good. I started to get scared. If I kept getting worse, how could I get to the hospital? This is the first time I’ve ever lived on my own. At any other point in my life if I got really sick I had a parent or a roommate who would have driven me, but not now. Now I’d either have to risk driving myself, which I knew was stupid, or call a taxi.

I was just panicking, of course. By seven o’clock, my temperature was down to 99.8 and I knew I’d be going to work the next day, which I did with my body still aching and my skin still being sensitive and a normal temperature.

One good thing came from all of this, though: I didn’t toss my cookies.

Is This True?

Shy and Withdrawn

People think you are shy, nervous, and indecisive. You're thought of as someone who needs looking after... People see you as a worrier who always sees problems that don't exist. Some people think you're boring. Only those who know you well know that you aren't.

How Do People See You?

Me write good.

Me go to Cowtown tomorrow. Eat food. Visit friends and family. Have fun time.

Three Things I Miss About Working At 'Bucks

1) The days where I would get off of work around noon.

Sure, that meant I'd usually be up before 4AM, but one of the greatest things, for me, was driving away as I knew most of the workforce were just in the middle of their work day. I had hours to do anything that I wanted. I had plenty of time to drive to a the city, pick up some comics, eat good food, wander the mall, peruse Boarders, browse Barnes and Nobles, actually buy books at the used book store, and I'd still be home before six. I could go to the movies and pay matinee prices, on a weekday. I didn't have to deal with rush hour traffic. I rarely saw any of the managers because none of them wanted to be there before 8:30. And I liked getting up early and having a hour or so where I was at work, getting paid, but not having to deal with the public.

2) The quick slow-witted people and the slow quick-witted people.

I made (and still make) a lot of strange comments, often without actually thinking before I speak, that some people wouldn't get until a while after I said it. About two-thirds of the people I worked with there were what I liked to call the quick slow-witted people or the slow quick-witted people, depending on how much I like the individual. These were the ones who would hear me say something and either come over to me to tell me that what I said was disgusting or they started laughing after a bit. Here, I have to watch what I say very carefully and the things that do squeeze between my lips either go unnoticed, or over a head, or I get a look that asks me what the hell I mean when I say what I said.

3) Getting to see the beginning, middle, and end.

At 'Bucks, even if I wasn't the one who took the order or made drink, I got to see and experience the whole process at one time or another. There were days when I only took orders and rang up customers and there were days when I only made drinks and there were days when I did both. Here, at this new job, I'm stuck somewhere in the middle of the process. Lawyers and injured workers and insurance companies start the cases and send them in here. In the end, the judges get involved. Me? I shuffle paperwork from my desk to the files and shuffle the files to the judges, but I don't really experience the any kind of conclusion. I'd like to be involved in the whole process. It's the micromanager in me.

Are We Nuts?

Well, it looks like Kansas has gone insane once again.

Song of the Day

Have you ever been listening to music and a song comes on that seems to sum up what the day was or will be?

"Wrap Your Arms Around Me" from the Bare Naked Ladies hit me that way as I walked to work.

Work and Potter

I’m supposed to be doing work that came from another person’s desk.

Guess what she’s doing today.

I’ll give you a hint, read the post from the second.

That’s right, she’s helping the part time secretary with work for one of the judges.

Not only am I supposed to be doing her work, but it’s work that landed on her desk two weeks ago. Two weeks ago was the week when the judges were gone and so was our supervisor. I know about the temptation to slack off. Hell, I did slack off. Before I slacked off, however, I at least took a big chunk out of my work and then I’d read or browse the ‘net or write a letter or simply stare at the pho-wall in front of my computer.

Part of the problem is that I really like the woman whose work I’m doing. I know she’s smart and when she sits down and work, the pages fly away from her desk. Obviously, she hasn’t been working like that for the last two week. And I wouldn’t mind helping out with the extra work if she or her son had gotten sick so she couldn’t do it or if it was work from this week that she couldn’t complete because she’s playing secretary for one of the judges. Neither she nor her son were sick and the work is two weeks old and that makes me a little bit angry and it makes me wish that I could ditch my work ethic and not finish my work when it’s given to me so that huge stacks from my desk could be given to the people I work with so that I can feel rewarded for not actually doing what I’m paid to do.

On another note, how many of you have the previews for the new Harry Potter movie? Probably all of you, but how many of you get disturbed when you see the introduction of the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang? What disturbs me is that the previews imply that Beauxbatons is all female and Durmstrang is all male. Now, I could understand Karkaroff thinking that only boys would be good enough for the Triwizard Tornament, but I find it unreasonable that Madame Maxime would only bring girls. I’m sure it won’t have any impact on the story nor will it make me not enjoy the movie, but I liked the idea that, for the most part, wizards have had an equality of the sexes for a long time. Even Voldemort has female deatheater in the highest of their ranks.

Okay, back to work.

Title

I was angry when I left work. Today (and apparently for the whole week, although I wasn’t told until this afternoon), I was told that I’m playing temporary secretary for the one judge who doesn’t have a full time secretary. Sure, he’s the new judge in the building, but he’s been there for nearly six months and he hasn’t found the time to interview secretaries. (Rumor around the OT area is that he wants to hire from within, but since he’s been here for longer than four out of five OTs I think it’s pretty unlikely.) The one he has now has partially comes out of retirement (4-8 hours a week) one or two mornings a week and constantly gets upset at the amount of work she has to do. So, us OTs, at least four of us since one is supposed to permanently help at the front counter, are supposed to help take up slack. I didn’t find out that I was involved in this until about two this afternoon, but I’m getting a bit ahead.

At 11ish, one of the secretaries came to my desk and plopped down a pile of paper work that was about nine inches thick. She also left a thing that’s supposed to help with the alphabetizing of papers. I asked what the pile was for. “[The supervisor] will tell you all about it,” she said to me. The supervisor wasn’t at her desk, she was in a meeting with the PJ, so I couldn’t ask her then. She wasn’t at her desk at noon, when I went on my lunch. When I got back from my lunch at one, she had already left for hers. She didn’t get back until after two and I snagged her as soon as I could.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” I pointed to the pile.

“Oh, you’re playing secretary this week,” she said. “If you want to,” she added with a look on her face that implied that I didn’t really have a choice.

I looked at her. I looked at the multi colored pile. I looked at her again.

“You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to,” she leaned in closer, “but we need you to sort through this pile and get the papers to their proper files.” She paused. “But you don’t have to do it.”

“No, I’m willing to do it, I just don’t know my way around a judge’s area.”

“You don’t need to worry about that. Just ask for help if you need it.”

Ask who for help? The judge? He had trials all afternoon and if he really felt like this stuff need to be filed, wouldn’t he have done some of it himself? I knew I could ask one of the other secretaries, but I’ve seen how exasperated they can get when they’re asked too many questions.

“We’re trying,” she said, “to get him caught up before the end of the year. If we do, it’ll keep his rating up, we don’t want it to go down, so it’s important that we help out. You don’t have to if you think you’re too busy, though, but I think it’d be a good thing for you to learn.”

“Yeah, I want to learn my way around some more,” I said. “The more I learn the farther I can go, right?”

“Exactly,” she said and then started to lecture me.

I’m a young man, she told me, who should start thinking about retirement. Thinking about my future family. Thinking about the future. She told me that she started her job with the state (about nine months ago, I found out from the one OT who has been working here for over a year) to really think about retiring with the state’s system. And she went on and on. I didn’t need a lecture, I needed to get started on the damn pile sitting there mocking me.

Eventually, she wore herself out and I got started on the papers.

About half of the papers went into files that are going in front of the judge this week. (A few should have been in front of him in the morning.) About a third of those didn’t have their files anywhere I could find them. I asked a secretary and she told me they might be in his office, but I shouldn’t go in there. Instead, I was suppose to go back to my computer and double check if they’re still going in front of the judge or if they’re somewhere else. Most of them are still supposed to seen by him, but I couldn’t find the files. The secretary who was helping me said the judge wouldn’t be happy with that.

Out of the of the other half, a quarter are going in front of the judge at some future time. A quarter of them now belong in files that have gone to other judges. And the last group went into files that the judge looked at a month ago.

When I got back to my desk at about 4:30, there was a huge pile of work for me that came in with today’s mail. So, I’m expected to help the judge all week, and still handle my normal workload. That upset me because I remember when the last two helped the judge, I was handed a large portion of their work to do so they could focus better on helping the judge.

And, apparently, the judge isn't going to be happy about the stack I couldn't file.

Let’s just hope the week gets better.

The Last for the Week

The week is almost over and I have to admit that I’m a little sad. On Monday, the boss will be back at her desk watching over our shoulders making sure we’re not wasting the state’s time and money by doing things that aren’t work related. She’ll come to my desk while I’m working and give me extra work to make sure I keep working. She’ll come to my desk when I’m not working and give me more work to do. She’ll find me at lunch and interrupt my reading to ask me how work is going. Lawyers and insurance adjusters and injured workers will all be back as well, creating an obnoxious buzz that gets into the air and just won’t drop until the door is locked at five.

If you haven’t guessed, I’ve enjoyed this week with out the public and without the judges and without the supervisor. I’ve been able to write a couple of letters that were much longer than what I usually write. I posted the comics that I’ve been making ever since I moved, including the one today (I finished it a little early this morning).

So, that’s it for this week. I’ll be back next week with who know what.

Oh, there is this:

He's Here!

Cole is now at home, out of his mommy and in her arms, right where he should be.

Read what Daddy Logic has to say and enjoy the pictures.

Sometimes, I Miss Working at 'Bucks.

This week, the judges are gone and so is the supervisor, so we don't expect a rough week. At this moment, no one who doesn't get paid to be here is here. I'm #2, the second person to go up to the counter when someone comes in for help, and I don't expect to have to get up too much to help.

So, I said to the ladies, "When the hoards come, we'll just beat them off with a stick." Then I realized what I said and started to snicker.

The ladies just looked at me and one said, "Okay." They went back to their work.

At 'Bucks, there would have been at least one other person snickering with me.

All the Comics

Everything since the last one that was posted.

Fixation

I’ve been fixating on this for over an hour. So, I’m hoping that if I put it down on paper (or bits of data, or ones and zeros, or whatever) that I’ll stop and actually be able to sleep tonight.

Yesterday morning, an injured worker (not necessarily injured now, but he was and that’s what we call all the people who come in who are trying to get money), without a lawyer, came in to schedule a walk-thru for this afternoon (we need at least 24 hours to set up a walk-thru). That, in itself, was odd because, as I’ve been told, 99% of the walk-thrus are scheduled by the defense. So, I go and speak with him, take his file and look his info up on the computer. There was no case for the date of injury on his form. That meant I had to create it, except he didn’t have any of the medical files which need to be there in advance. I told him, he called the lawyers for the defense. I spoke with the lawyers for the defense. They told me I was wrong. I told them I wasn’t. They asked if they could fax the 100+ pages of the meds. I said no, we can’t accept faxes from outside. They spoke with the injured worker again and convinced him to go home and let them fax the documents to him. He hung up and said he’d be back in the afternoon.

Around 3:15, he came back with the meds. A walk-thru can be scheduled for either 8:30 AM or 1:30 PM and needs to be scheduled 24 hours in advance. I went to the walk-thru judge’s secretary and asked her if it would be okay to set it up, she said it would. I had the injured worker fill out the walk-thru paper and said it’d be all set up for tomorrow. I went back to my desk, created a file, and gave it to the judge’s secretary.

Today, I got back from my lunch a little after two, since I didn’t start my lunch until a little after one, and my supervisor charged over to my desk before I was able to put my Tupperwarish stuff in my bag. She had the file I had created for the walk-thru in her hand and started to tell me things that the judge said that I didn’t understand. Finally, she told me what the judge wanted, which was a separate file for each DOI on the form. The problem was that five of the DOIs weren’t on the line that they should have been on, they were on the line where the injured body parts are supposed to be listed. After she got done frantically explaining the problem to me I asked her what I was supposed to do with the files when I finished, she said I was to hold on to them until tomorrow when the official address record would be printed out. Thirty minutes later, all the files were created and placed on my little thing where I put finished files waiting for OARs.

I took my last break at three, when it’s scheduled, even though I’d only been back for an hour, and got back at 3:15. One of the other OTs (that’s my title) told me that the judge had come and taken all the files I’d just created because they needed them right away. I said okay and finally started to work on the major filing that I offered to help one of the judge’s secretaries with. While filing, the judge who had me create the new files came out into the hall (I think he was taking a break from the people in the room) and told me that he doesn’t blame me for what happened.

“I don’t blame you,” he said.

And that’s where I get troubled. See, I don’t like the sentence “I don’t blame you.” I don’t like it because when you say it you’re at least saying that you considered blaming me for something. If you really don’t blame me, they why would you feel the need to say this damn sentence? You do blame me, don’t you? If you want to tell me that I screwed up, tell me I screwed up. I can handle it. I’m not fragile. In fact, if you were honest with me and just told me that I blew it, I wouldn’t be her obsessing about this stupid problem. Blame me. I don’t mind because that means I’ll ask you to teach me so I don’t screw up in the same way later. I learn just fine that way.

Okay, I feel a little better. Hopefully I’ll be able to forget about it this later and sleep will come peacefully and be restful.

George Carlin on New Orleans

Been sitting here with my ass in a wad, wanting to speak out about the bullshit going on in New Orleans. For the people of New Orleans... First I would like to say, Sorry for your loss. With that said, let's go through a few hurricane rules: (Unlike an earthquake, we know it's coming)

#1. A mandatory evacuation means just that...Get the hell out. Don't blame the government after they tell you to go. If they hadn't said anything, I can see the argument. They said get out... if you didn't, it's your fault, not theirs. (I don't want to hear it, even if you don't have a car, you can get out.)

#2. If there is an emergency, stock up on water and non-perishables. If you didn't do this, it's not the Government's fault you're starving.

#2a. If you run out of food and water, find a store that has some. (Remember, shoes, TV's, DVD's and CD's are not edible. Leave them alone.)

#2b. If the local store has been looted of food or water, leave your neighbor's TV and stereo alone. (See #2a) They worked hard to get their stuff. Just because they were smart enough to leave during a mandatory evacuation, doesn't give you the right to take their stuff...it's theirs, not yours.

#3. If someone comes in to help you, don't shoot at them and then complain no one is helping you. I'm not getting shot to help save some dumb ass who didn't leave when told to do so.

#4. If you are in your house that is completely under water, your belongings are probably too far gone for anyone to want them. If someone does want them, let them have them and hopefully they'll die in the filth. Just leave! (It's New Orleans, find a voodoo warrior and put a curse on them)

#5. My tax money should not pay to rebuild a 2 million dollar house, a sports stadium or a floating casino. Also, my tax money shouldn't go to rebuild a city that is under sea level. You wouldn't build your house on quicksand would you? You want to live below sea-level, do your country some good and join the Navy.

#6. Regardless of what the Poverty Pimps Jessie Jackson and Al Sharpton want you to believe, The US Government didn't create the hurricane as a way to eradicate the black people of New Orleans; (Neither did Russia as a way to destroy America). The US Government didn't cause global warming that caused the hurricane (We've been coming out of an ice age for over a million years).

#7. The government isn't responsible for giving you anything. This is the land of the free and the home of the brave, but you gotta work for what you want. McDonalds and Wal-Mart are always hiring, get a damn job and stop spooning off the people who are actually working for a living.

President Kennedy said it best..."Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country." Thank you for allowing me to rant.

Strange Dream

My in-box is empty. My boss is away at lunch. The other co-workers have decided it's okay to waste this time. So, I'm wasting it too.

I had this strange dream last night. I was being forced to live in a judge's house. (I don't know if it's one of the judges here or not. The judge was only referred to as The Judge.) I had all my boxes in my room, which my parent's cats (past and present) had chosen for me by curling up together on the bed. Some kid came in and started to sing that Hillary Duff song that came out with the Lizzie McGuire Movie (I think it's called "So Yesterday") and he wouldn't shut up. So I grabbed his arm and pulled him out onto this huge bridge (sort of like the Bay Bridge, that long but more narrow like for only six or seven people standing side by side) and threatened to push him off if he didn't stop singing the song. He wouldn't stop and I couldn't push. The Sprite, one of my parent's cats, ran across the bridge, leaped and knocked the kid over the edge and into the bay below then trotted home. I stared at her and woke up.

Strange, huh?

I don't know what else to say right now. So, I'm gonna munch on some Cheez-Its and read my book.

Day Off

I had Columbus Day off. Isn't that weird? A day celebrating the man who brought Europe's version of slavery to a new continent just so he could get rich. I know he's my hero.

On another note, not that anyone's asked, I am keeping up with my comics. I have five for the last five weeks that I haven't posted them sitting on my hard drive. Why haven't I posted them, because a few stolen minutes of time to post this isn't quite enough to do the comics.

Halfey Birthday Mom

I wanted to say that to her today

And I wanted to let you all know that I will not be getting regular internet until next month. I know that I’ve written that it’ll be this month, but it can’t be. I have to be sure of the money situation before I can get some real internet connection. See, I just got my PG&E bill this month and on it was a $120 deposit. A deposit for what, I don’t know. Since the power was on in my apartment before I got there I guess it’s not the line into the apartment building from the pole, now is it. Well, that disappearing money made me squinch up inside, deciding to wait on internet unsquinched me.

So, from now until I get connected at my place, I’ll try to write two or three things each week. Maybe long ones the night before then dumped online at work or maybe short ones here at work in a stolen few minutes. (Which is what this one here is.)

Daily

I have a few minutes before I go off and learn what an applicant has to go through when they file their papers here. Because of this class, or whatever, I’m going to miss my usual break, at 10 AM today, so I took it upon myself to take my break early and do a little blogging.

The oddest thing about this job, for me at least, is that it has the same routine every single day. I get up at the same time (or nine minutes later if I hit the snooze) every day. I eat and shower and leave at the same time each morning. I get to work and turn on my computer within the same three minutes each day. I turn on my computer and start my working at 8 AM. 10 AM I have a fifteen minute break. 1 PM I have lunch for an hour. 3 PM I have another fifteen minute break. 5 PM I shut down Windows and leave for the day.

I haven’t had this much structure in my life since I was in high school. Five days a week I do the same thing over and over again.

Even the work is repetitive. Same kind of forms and papers come in. I decide which ones require me to open a new case, which ones I need to pull files for, and which ones I just drop into the file. After I decide which ones require which, I pull the files I need. After that, I put the information on line and start new cases. Some papers just get dropped into the files that line our walls. Some get rubber banded to existing files and dropped into judges’ mail boxes. The rest I pull empty files for and set the new file up; I can’t complete the new ones until the next morning because an address record needs to be printed out and for some reason that happens over night.

I don’t really like this much structure.

Hope you’re all well.

I’m trying for that regular internet connection, but I need to see how much I’m already spending each month before I spend even more.