A day.

Pretty but dumb pets.

The Fib -- and it says something that the moment I see a new/geeky poetic form, I think of cadhla, who obliged by posting some lovely ones by the time I got home from work. Yay!

Work was work.

Social

In other news, I just requested to add two of my co-workers on MySpace.

... after deleting the direct link to my actual live blog. There's silly, and then there's foolish. Anything involving a live link to a live blog and co-workers might be foolish. If anybody searches me up, then they've found me, but no need to make things easy, eh?

Air Freshener Strikes Again!

Homie G Super was waving around one of the little bricks of air freshener today. He had it sitting on a shelf by his desk. He raved about how good it smelled. To prove it, he took a long whiff of it.

He was promptly teased about huffing air freshener, and brain damage. I went off on a tangent about how those things are scary.


Stressy College Chick fought with the floor yesterday. The floor won. She was in massive pain with the hand, and it's looking more bruised today. (There was roughhousing, and hand/floor interface is not a good one.) She found her tendinitis brace and is temporarily using that. We are all totally worried about her.

I ran $ISSUE_SIDE_JOB today, sort of. I ran it on paper. Obso1337 Super ran it on the computer. I monitored for a bit, then enlisted the help of the other monitor in today and took over the handing out and discussing monitor reports, and the handing out and discussing of stats. I aim to be a good supervisor.

Obso1337 Super says that as soon as I'm checked out on the computers I'll be good to go for actually running jobs on my own. Granted, I'll still be asking for people to help me do this and that, to make sure I've got it all down OK, but I'm pretty much all done with the stuff.

The prospect of being a Real Live Supervisor is thrilling, and scares me more than I can describe.

Friday update: Running around like fire ants on caffeine.

[all this as of last evening]

There was a very irate respondent who called in last night. She was determined to make everyone here just as miserable as phone calls to her (allegedly 16 or so of them, all from us, though when I looked up her number after verifying that it was removed, it said it was 7 calls spread out over 4 days) and I think I obliged her -- by the end of the call, when I was sounding just as frustrated and snippy as she was, she cut loose with just being sheerly nasty, when I was trying to help answer her questions and she WASN'T LISTENING TO ME, and that eventually resulted in me banging the fuck out of the phone when I hung up. Not a good scene.

It does, however, make very entertaining re-telling, of the escalation of the call. I am known for generally having patience and keeping my cool. I can re-tell it in a fashion that left Trader Joe's Queen Monitor giggling. The primary source of amusement is in fact my mounting rage and the inept way in which I handled not screaming at the respondent.

I got to write up an e-mail detailing the course of events for Stressy College Chick, who had bugged out of the building with cigarettes and all, intent on not coming back until the woman was off the phone, or perhaps even leaving until the next day.

Not that I entirely blame her. She fought with the floor before coming to work, and the floor won. She's wearing a hand brace today, and hoping that it's just wrenched some instead of sprained or hairline fractured or anything.

---

I am on the $ISSUE_SIDE_JOB team, perhaps forever. This is not a bad thing. This is a good thing.

Stage fright

Not so much with the fire ants on caffeine today. Instead, I am working with Comic Pirate Super and I have intense stage fright that I'm trying very hard to hide.

Stage fright is weird. I'm not having the stage fright from being in the bullpen anymore, but stage fright from walking up and down the areas and handing out stuff? So very much.

I am massively cool ... on the internet.

This workplace is not the internet.

(no subject)

Whee, work. Learning the details of watching my job. Hooray, $ISSUE_SIDE_JOB.

We have a new, very confused phone goon. She may or may not make appearances in the cast of characters here. There seems to be lots of breeze in her trees, but it may just be the job briefing that is confusing. She's on the Dendarii Brewing Company survey, and that one is a doozy. We'll see how we do.

Management called in to get us to check a web page for her. The obituary she was looking for was not there.

I merrily screw up all sorts of different context-related paperwork!

Comic Pirate Super is good to train with, because he has a sense of humor. I don't think he's part of the 'net-crowd, but he does have an online presence that I am aware of. He's old-school.

Math games

Whee, work. Rev. Not-So-Nice Super is picking up on the hours chart really fast. He liked math games as a kid. I am half-tempted to train him on it completely, and leave him to train the rest of the bullpen on it.

He's not feeling particularly inspired to learn, though.

He might feel more inspired after a raise, he said.

Yeah. Really.

Acronyms, management, Continuous Improvement, and a snowy owl mascot. Sometimes, the fact that our bosses are not up on the latest netticisms serves us well.

Later, shall have to tweak a copy of this image for great justice.


The Gospel of Judas: OMG unicorn!Jesus!!

Not my fandom, but "The One Where Dean Has to Make a Choice is good enough to wait for part 2.

Petty annoyances, and little diversions.

Plotting to leave a polite note with the office stating "I will abide by the posted laundry room hours while they are in force. I disagree with these new hours and respectfully request that they be rescinded."

Monthly.

In other news, we have the happy/fun apartment inspections. This doesn't mean heavy-duty cleaning, thankfully, but it does mean some serious de-cluttering.

Laundry is in for drying.

O'Reilly Owl (regexp type) has now been hacked, in convenient LJ-icon size.

Am attempting to formulate what the hell to write back to an old friend, with whom both contact and the friendship have lapsed severely. She is in the habit of forwarding massive amounts of stuff, some of it cheerful and uplifting, some of it ... not so (the "Hi! This is a nasty spider bite! See how it progresses! Brown Recluse is dangerous! Watch out, m'kay?" scare-mail), and some of it ... well, there is an audience for the "OMG! Christian values have departed the society! DOOM!" e-mail. That audience is not me. I said as much in reply. I got back a snippy e-mail saying essentially the "Well, I would have thought that YOU would care while the RIGHTS OF OTHERS are being CHIPPED AWAY!"

Except that I have no problem with the secularization of government, feel that "holiday" and "season" are appropriate words for the $WINTERHOLIDAY season, especially if individual people are celebrating their own personal holidays and referring to them openly, and think that the removal of certain overt Christian themes from some bits of mass media (TV shows, like the e-mail was protesting) is more of a market response issue than a rights issue, especially given that people who've had the religion shoved in their face in the past tend to react all prickly-wise to it if it's presented as the Default Religion.

Do note if my assumption is incorrect, but I do believe that there are parts of the US where wearing a tiny, tasteful pentacle (less than dime sized) can get one targeted for assault and/or harassment, to say nothing of potential loss of job, demotion, discrimination, et cetera. I also believe that wearing a cross of similar size in most parts of the US is anywhere from unobjectionable to unremarkable to laudable. It's sad that people feel as if they can't express their religion openly without fear of being mocked. It's also sad that there are television channels where people like Pat Robertson run their mouths, and people listen to this. In summary: Stick = the eye of the public face of Christianity. Mote = the eye of major broadcast network television. Just sayin'.

Not sure how I want to express all of that-there sentiment to the woman, but I'm planning on expressing at least some of it.


I am again cursed with insufficient shelf space. I probably want a bigger apartment in the future, to save room for all my books. I like books. Books like me. I have a best friend. He likes books too.

I do intend to pass some books on the instant I get done with them, should I fail to like them or fail to want to keep them on hand. Only sensible thing to do with bad paperbacks, aside from chucking them at 3am noise polluters.