So, this morning while driving on bridge #1, I had this feeling that there would be a speed trap waiting at the end of the causeway. Sure enough, there was a motorcycle cop there, fiddling with his radio. Later on in my morning commute, I looked down and saw the speedometer had just reached 100,000. Coincidence?
At that moment, in Syracuse, a man puts on a dress...
1. They guy who walks around the office brushing his teeth. Why does he feel the need to share his eagerness for oral hygiene with the rest of us?
2. The custodian who sings - loudly and badly. He's brought annoying to an art form.
3. The baby talkers - 'nuff said.
Did you know that audio speakers are made, in part, of paper? Once I heard this, at last I understood why I've blown out the speakers in every single vehicle I've owned. The materials just aren't up to the job. See, I like to drive around with the tunes loud (but not thumpy), so loud that I tend to not hear my cell phone. If I'm in a good mood, loud music in the car amplifies the mood. If I'm in a bad mood, appropriate dark music drowns out the angry voices in my head. Now I'm in the market for a new car stereo, one that's suited for my unique demands. Maybe I'll get crazy and upgrade to a CD car stereo.
Inside the house, music doesn't need to be loud, but it should be easilly accessible, especially while I'm sewing. Speaking of CD players, not only does the one in the sewing room suck (you have to put a heavy book on the top to keep the cd from popping out during play), one of the speakers went out the other night. I discovered this while listening to Jimi Hendrix. "The Wind Cries Mary" was missing lyrics - I knew that was wrong. Looks like I'll be going to Best Buy some time soon.
As I'm writing this, I'm listening to Squirrel Nut Zippers on headphones-and the right headphone just lost it. Another bizarre coincidence?
Great. I’m not at all hungry, but a part of my brain is trying to talk the rest of me into going to a Chinese buffet for lunch. Could it be the result of the bacon-flavored milk that I had Saturday morning? Is it the annoyingly loud bilingual conversations that have been going on all morning in the cubicle next to me, conducted by Important Men who could easily adjourn to their plush offices with doors? Could it because my beloved Browns lost by one point in yet another freak, last-second mishap? Or is the craving of lots of MSG-laden food a result of watching the Bucs lose in overtime? At least the Cowboys lost; I fell asleep in front of that one. Maybe I’ll compromise and have an egg roll. I’m already celebrating the fact that I’m all alone in the marketing zone today by wearing denim capris, a violation of the “no denim on days that don’t start with the letter F” rule. I could celebrate the gift of a new monitor that doesn’t flash on and off randomly. Did you know that llamas hum?
Just got an internal e-mail concerning September 11. Turns out we are going to commemorate that tragic day by having the receptionist make the following announcements on the intercom:
“It is 8:45 am. This is the time American Airlines Flight 11 out of Boston, Massachusetts, crashed into the north tower of the World Trade Center. Please take a moment of silence if you wish.” At 9:03 am you will hear another announcement stating, “It is 9:03 am. This is the time United Airlines Flight 175 from Boston, crashed into the south tower of the World Trade Center.” At 9:43 am the announcement will be “It is 9:43 am. This is the time American Airlines Flight 77 crashed into the Pentagon.” At 10:10 the final announcement will be “It is 10:10 am. This is the time United Airlines Flight 93, crashed in Pennsylvania.”
I don't want to hear this. I know what happened all too well. Who the hell doesn't? That morning here at the office, someone wheeled a TV into the upstairs reception area, and we all watched the events unfold, to our collective horror. I started crying - and you have no idea how much I hate crying in front of people. I really do, and not just because my skin gets all blotchy and my eyes get red. If the higher-ups want me to be at all productive, they wouldn't do this. *sigh*
Guess I'll be rude and listen to music on headphones, my usual escape route. I won't take a due day - I think the best way for us to deal with this is to continue with our regular routine.
I'm not sure why, but this snippet of bad poetry recently popped into my head:
In the pie chart of your affections,
Is there a slim, thin slice with my name on it,
Or am I lumped in the "Other" slice?
Isn't that awful? I had some whiskey this weekend (which tastes like burning, by the way), maybe that's where this came from. My hope is that by unleashing this snippet here, it will not develop into something worse-like a full-blown Bad Poem.
I tried on this beautiful dress today. Pale purple silk embroidered with green vines, only $15! It was the size I've been wearing recently - only it was too big.
Maybe they put the wrong size label on the dress at the sweatshop.
Yesterday afternoon my psychic shopping sense urged me to try to find that purple silk dress in the store in my neighborhood (TJ Maxx, Max for the Minimum). I found it there. Same size, but it seemed to fit a little better. Only it was $7! Of course I bought it. I know a thing or two about sewing, I'll MAKE it fit. A silk embroidered dress for $7 ?!? I HAVE to buy it. I mean, that's like MAKING me buy it.
Now, if only I can find those $159 black embroidered high heel boots I saw in the Speigel catalog for, say, $12...
Am still mulling over what to do about tomorrow. I (and at least two other coworkers that I know of) sent an e-mail to HR expressing a request for them to not make all those announcements. You know how corporate culture is, though, they'll never change their minds. Can't possibly admit we were "wrong" now, can we?
I'd love to come in around 10:30 and avoid all those dreadful announcements, but tomorrow is my soup-ervisor's first day back after a long vacation. Probably wouldn't look too good to take comp time on a day like that. But my computer's CD player just broke, so I'll have no way to drown the PA out. On the plus side, as the CD slot is stuck in the out position, I do have a nice new cupholder attached to the CPU.
Well, the announcements weren't as bad as I had dreaded. Especially when the first one was made, telling us we could observe a moment of silence if we wished - and then the receptionist paged Joe Schmoe to pick up line one. It's kind of hard to observe a moment of silence with the day-to-day routine going on.
The admin. assistant in our department had her little b&w TV tuned to Peter Jennings all morning. The names of those killed in the World Trade Centers could be heard as they were read in the ceremony being broadcast. (Have you noticed that the presence of little TVs in the workplace has increased post- Sept. 11? Even though radio, as anyone who takes Journalism 101 learns, is the fastest news medium. That's how we heard the awful news in this corner of the office, one year ago today.) The Mal-Wart also had Peter Jennings on their TVs that are sprinkled throughout the store. It was odd to hear "The Battle Hymn of the Republic" interspersed with in-store announcements like, "Be sure to buy some Halloween candy!". It was bizarre to be buying contact lens solution and nail polish while solemn processions and commemorations were taking place. It's hard not to have a bit of survivor guilt on a day like today.
Strange, I used to be really good at placing difficult-to-deal-with truths in a little box and hiding the box in the closet of my subconscious; a coping skill that helps and hinders at the same time. I guess I've grown up in that I can't do that anymore. On a day like today, is it wrong to want a little wall to protect one's psyche?
On an unrelated note: my computer guru tells me that I won't be able to post here for a couple of days. I don't know how much (if any) impact that will have on you...just an FYI.
