Trying to find a way through

Alright, the last ennui-soaked day at work, I micro blogged all day and it helped me make it through -- confiding in a sympathetic audience of one-slash-infinity.

Lately, my mind seems actually to go on Strike when the ridiculousness passes some set-point. Last Friday, it was the story of how a co-worker couldn't get his time sheet right, and had been turning it back in repetitively over the course of the morning, always saying he'd changed something, but never actually changing the error which our clerk spotted within 4 seconds of being handed the miscreant paper the first time.

I sympathized with her frustration, and said, "You know, I don't think he can even *see* it. I've seen him do the same kind of thing with other paperwork -- I just don't think he can see that level of detail, or cares." She looked genuinely surprised, and then said, "And he wants to be Manager? ... damn..."

His (apparently known to others) goal of becoming Manager was news to me, and surprising in that sense, but in the context of having seen him take the path of Most BrownNosiness from about his second week in the office, I'm totally not surprised.

And it causes me to ask myself, since I have realized that promotions (around here -- also everywhere?) are COMPLETELY based on friendships, and NOT AT ALL based on competence at either one's current job, or perceived future competence at the job one is being promoted to, what will I do when he gets such a promotion? Quit? Stay but go on strike? Actually walk down the hall to Human Resources and say WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK, which will actually sound like, "Hello, I'd like to file a gender discrimination lawsuit against my employer for taking advantage of skilled women, while promoting dumb shit brown nosing men."

Sigh.

Gotta get ready for the Big Meeting tomorrow, because if I'm not prepared, they will actually need something from me; If I prepare today, they will need nothing from me, do the managerial "Ha, ha ha", shake hands, and go home happy, having solved nothing.

Cynicism is a great way to start the week.

/Sarcasm.

Candle in the dark

"This fight won't be with muskets or civil rights marches, but by patiently prying open the skulls of our crazy uncles and neighbors out there who swallowed the anti-future, anti-progress, anti-science hype recreating the Know Nothing movement of the 1830s. It is going to take all of us -- working on the smartest and most salvageable of these fever-racked neighbors, one by one. Getting them to calm down and re-join civilization."

arguing with your crazy uncle about climate change

Sigh...

Dummy comes by to assure me that he's getting better at his job, wants to thank me for ... something. Unclear what, since I've given up training him a while ago, when it became painfully clear to me that he wasn't listening, didn't want to do it they way I was teaching, and was going to make shit up himself no matter how I cautioned him that it would come back to bite him in the ass later.

I bite my damn tongue (almost literally), avoid making making my "that's bullshit!" face, and say, "cool, cool," until he finishes and goes away.

And never mention that the document he brought into my cube to ask a question about during the previously described cologne incident had a grevious error which I noticed within 2 seconds of his placing it on my desk. I answered the specific question he asked, and since he didn't ask for my review, I didn't mention that he'd left a giant, obvious, information hole on the first page.

I'm sure no one else will notice, either. Maybe one day ... zombies.

Urge to kill rising....

Chewing gum at my desk.

Coworker comes into my cube to ask a question, bringing with him the wafting envelope of his cologne.

After about 3 seconds, I'm tasting his fucking cologne.

And he's standing in between me and my waste-basket.

Times like these, I silently play scenes from the forthcoming zombie apocalypse in my head. ;-)

We are the 99%

From motherjones, "eleven charts that show what's wrong with America."

http://motherjones.com/politics/2011/02/income-inequality-in-america-chart-graph

Problaby the most poignant is half-way down the page:

Income Distribution
....Actual Distriution of Wealth
....What Americans Think it Is
....What They Would Like it to Be

Time...

Alright, it's the time of afternoon where idiots are sitting around trying to impress each other with their deep thoughts.

Time to hit the frickin road.

OK, gotta stop now

I am *so* gonna miss Youtube after the zombie appocalypse!

A balm for my stupid-burned soul

Mom sent this one.

Personally, I'm boo-hoo crying with laughter (silently, at my desk) by about 25 seconds in.

Dream Report

Starts out with POV of reality show cameraman for Julia Roberts' down-home folksy wedding reception outside what looks like a classic movie Old West saloon, which turns out to be situated in the tiny town where my childhood best friend grew up. Julia's sister is actually more beautiful than Julia, although she is not famous.

It's raining, we all head inside. Now, the inside is our of our house, though the layout is more similar to Palo Alto friend's farm-house style kitchen. We are all baking, and wrapping wedding gifts while the rain pounds down outside (giant Matrix-3 sized raindrops), filling our swimming pool to overflowing.

Two fence boards are out between our yard and Holly's. Water from her pool (in reality, she neither has a pool, nor does her yard back-up to this side of our yard) is rolling like waves into our backyard. German sheppards (she does not own) are schooling in her pool, at least 20 of them. I get the handy cam to video them -- Holly also has hundreds of huge black rabbits, and fifty black-and-white goats in her yard, which we didn't know about. She is also having a party, so we get self-conscious about filming through the fence, and A and I go for a walk.

Turns out this is A and D's wedding reception (in reality, they got married last year), and the sun is out. I have a lovely walk in the hills with A, and tell her a long, drawn-out story which I think will entertain her, but I discover is unfortunately incredibly boring (about someone else's baby?); I keep talking, trying to make it more interesting, and she is being nice about it, but the story is just embarrassingly pointless. I finally see my way to the punch line, but just as I'm setting it up, she starts running in her flowing white sun dress back to the house; I'm running too, and gasping out the set-up; she turns into the garden approach to the house, and I realize she is running to meet D, who is standing at the front door.

I figure she'll forget that I never finished my boring story. We all return inside, to much dancing and formless folk music.

Tragedy of the Commons-ish

I fix a lot of little dumb broken things because god damn it.

Walk it back

Alright, I got bent out of shape there for a minute, thinking someone had returned us something that was only partially reviewed...eventually understood that both required reviews had been made -- you just have to see that the two stamps used are different....

Oh well, I'll try to clarify it on my own transmittal of this whole pile to the next entitiy that needs it....Put a mental note on this one -- it will be cause for confusion at some later date.

Annoyances

There are certain people whose voice makes my brain itch.

Common cause

I respect people who take the time to put a hand-made "out of order" sign on a publically located piece of equipment (in this case, one of the drink machines in the cafeteria lobby).

Not only do they have to take the time, but they had both a piece of dispensable paper and a writing implement *with them* (I travel with neither, unless I've got my purse because I'm directly on my way to or from my car), or, they actually went back to their work area, made the sign, and returned to install it at a later time.

Plus, it's fun to see what kind of hand writing and writing tool they use. This one: large, loopy, relaxed cursive, in pencil.

If I bothered, I would tend to go with block capitals in sharpie.

Trying not to go insane at work

Have I told you about how much Lotus Notes sucks?

:-/

"Their theory was that reality TV was essentially the antidote to self-improvement: Instead of feeling better about yourself by achieving anything, you can just watch the worst possible humans fawn over Flava Flav for half an hour! It's like a Hot Pocket for your self-esteem -- quick, easy and overall bad for you."

....

"They see people with absolutely no ability becoming famous, sharing absolutely every irrelevant detail of their lives with the world, and confuse one of the effects with the cause. They then proceed to pour out every pointless emotion in a never-ending toxic spill of weaponized boredom."

From: http://www.cracked.com/article_19101_6-studies-that-prove-reality-tv-causing-apocalypse.html

"Of course, the most powerful device ever created is still just sitting there, waiting patiently for absolutely anyone to give a shit."

From http://www.cracked.com/article_19037_7-movies-that-ignored-world-changing-discoveries.html

Lunch is for the Birds, today

Had lunch outside today, with a pigeon in attendance. People must generally be obeying the "do not feed the birds" signs around the building, because I rarely see birds begging; but this one bobble-headed up to me with self confidence, so it must have experienced success begging elsewhere. I was eating salad, and smiled to myself, imagining this would be a disappointment to the bird (although I wasn’t planning to share any, anyway).

After a few minutes of regarding me, the bird turned sideways, so it could keep one round orange eye on me, with the other scanning passersby. Eventually (after I finished the salad and set aside the styrofoam box to concentrate on my book), the bird turned its head away, keeping me only in its rear peripheral vision, and began squinting at things – one eye at a time, very slowly. It would cock its head just a little, and slowly half-close one eye, and then bring its head upright again, and open its eye. By this time, it had one foot pulled up underneath, so I wondered if this amusing slow-motion-squinting activity reflected drowsiness, but I couldn’t be sure. After a while, it stretched its wings elaborately, and I admired the feathers. It’s unusual for me to appreciate a pigeon’s plumage, since they’re considered to be trash birds, but this one was really lovely.

Must not eat too many fries.