Today!
Got to work early, for values of "early" that included the slow-speed lane changing that I hate so very much, in the fucking traffic jam. :(
I meandered through one of the new buildings, the one that Researcher Carmageddon had been complaining about signage in. I've been given to understand that signage is an ongoing project, and not one which is, shall we say,
entirely complete. (Also, that having a conference room named something like "Kyril Island" in the Vorbarr Sultana office, when there's a satellite office on Kyril Island, is a bad move, so there was a quick change of naming scheme which rendered the rooms closer to "Vorthalia the Bold" and so forth.)
I've had my eye on the workplace first-aid-and-stuff crew for a while, and finally got questions answered and schedule not terrifying enough so that I was able to join this week's class. It's a small class, including an ex-military guy, me, the class clown, and the guy who looks like John Watson (Sherlock version) with a bigger nose and hair of a more salt-and-pepper rather than sand-and-sand nature.
The class started off with something I'd seen before:
A good amount of the class was review, but since my certification was about 25 years out of date, there was a good chunk of new/changed stuff. I will say here that someone who's of a mind to do some reading about emergency medicine which is also good reading could do worse than
the Making Light index of emergency medicine entries; I'm not an actual emergency medicine person, and these are of course aging every year, but I came out of those more prepared to make sensible decisions than I did going in, and they helped make this class better for me.
I got to meet the AED for the first time. Those things are cool. My grandmanager specifically named them as examples of excellent design, because he declared they do one thing, and HOT DAMN THEY DO THAT THING. Basically no manual needed. (Although I note that ours seemed to be monolingual, English, which could be a real problem in some contexts. Also you'd better either be able to follow the printed directions or hear.)
The second class is tomorrow. Yay!
So that class let out early due to small class size. I was therefore able to make it to most of the team meeting, and included an advertisement for the first-aid-and-stuff crew at the end of team business.
My grandmanager appreciated the trouble I'd gone to with the plotter for his sake, and it helped him think about stuff and prioritize where he'd like to be in the building.
Yesterday, I asked Outlook to give me the emails it had where I had tagged it in a certain way. It dumped them out for me. It was about three hundred (over). I started going through. Then I noticed that it was asking, very discreetly, "Your search found a WHOLE LOT. Did you want to see ACTUALLY ALL of these?" So I cursed, told it FUCK YES UNFORTUNATELY, WHY WOULD YOU THINK THAT I WOULD SCROLL TO THE FUCKY-BOTTOM JUST FOR MY HEALTH, and it loaded rather more.
Mumblety hours later, I had assembled information into a large and fairly tidy pile, swearing the whole way, but with a much better appreciation for what was going on. (I was pushing through fairly hard, because I had failed to perform the search in such a way that would let me load my inbox without losing my place, as far as I knew, which would have been unfortunate.)
I had also dropped by the office of the desktop guy and apologized and helped contextualize the situation.
Next step is pulling the information from another spreadsheet in, swearing, doing some sorting and counting, and dumping the information (tied with a pale pink bow) onto my manager, who will affix it atop her spear of justice and go shake it at some of the other departments, asking them what in the Sam Hill they advise her to do.
Also I shared around chocolate, because by that time I was getting a headache, eating the chocolate myself wouldn't have helped, and giving it to the team would result in various small joys.
"I still don't give a flying duck" continues to be funny. String cheese rendered me human enough to drive home (via the gas station and Trader Joe's). Out of courtesy, I emailed Purple to let him know that I was safely home.
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