Hiatus Shmiatus

I know. It's a bit ridiculous to have been M.I.A. for so long. I mean how hard is it to jot down a few pithy thoughts here and there? Well it turns out for this working mom of one, pretty damn hard. I seriously don't know how people do it. And by "it", I mean everything. For example, I was due for a mammogram...A YEAR AGO. Teeth cleaning? Don't get me started. The recycling bill has yet to be paid - as evidenced by the garbage still sitting at the end of our driveway from last week. (Won't you be my neighbor?)

Yes, I'm prioritizing correctly. Child is fed, clothed and kept out of oncoming traffic. Employer is getting (some of) their money's worth. The mortgage gets paid on time. My gas tank is full. (However, my car inspection was due in April. What?). 

Ok fine. Most of the big shit is getting tended to. But what about all the other stuff? I can't remember the last time I read (and finished) a book, short-story, magazine article. I have forgotten what the inside of a gym looks like.  And can we be vain for a moment? I've been using those teeth whitening strips, but with no consistency, because apparently for me it's the equivalent of obtaining a Ph.D.  

But here's the good news. Tomorrow is Monday. A new week. A fresh start.

Whatev.

HADES AIN'T NO LADY

Mother of God it's hot. As I think I've mentioned, I'm a northeast gal. I did NOT sign up for this heat. This unbearable, stick to your seat, deodorant annhilating heat. Sizzling is for bacon, not for people.

It's so tiring...to run through your usual, frazzling every day routine, but when you add to that a heat index of 100? I'm sorry, what?

You know how when you check the weather it'll show a cute little picture of clouds or a smiling sun...well today it was a cactus. A CACTUS. I don't live in Texas or Arizona or anywhere south of the Mason Dixon line. That little cactus is proof positive of global warming. Ugh.

BUT. (And this is a big but) I know I have nothing to complain about. I drive in my air conditioned car to my air conditioned office. While at the same time, the majority of the developing world is not only sweltering, but at war, or in dire need of food and clean water, or enduring unspeakable hardships - least of which is the heat.

Therein lies my angst in life. My self-hatred and frustration. You win the lottery just by being born in the United States. Opportunity? Freedom of speech? Just more reason to feel lucky, lucky, lucky. So what do I do? I start a blog. And complain about my life's little trials and tribulations.

As you get to know me better (dammit readers...someone MUST be lurking out there...anyone? bueller?) you'll understand this battle within me often lies in wait...simmering just beneath the surface. Waiting for a chance to rear it's ugly, self-absorbed, conflicted, two-faced, head.

But for now, for tonight, I'm going to strip down, lay on this bed and hope that my little (and I do mean little) Honeywell 3-speed fan will keep me from melting before morning.

Peace out.

Meeting from H-E-L-L

Thursday, June 29th, 2010

STATUS #1: I LOVE MY JOB!

4:30AM - wake up an hour (AN HOUR) before alarm is supposed to go off - cannot fall back asleep (and by the way - went to bed at 11:30PM)

6:15AM - drive to Starbucks for 2 green iced teas (take note: this ends up being the highlight of my day...by far)

6:30AM - at my desk putting the finishing touches on my presentation and wrapping up remaining loose ends for the big-3 day-employees-flying in-but-needed-3-rounds-of -approval- because-we're-not-allowed-to-spend-any-money-and-boss-will-be-showing-up-so-this-had-better-be-f*cking-worth-it-meeting

8:00AM - go to meeting room 1/2 an hour early to prep. I'm organized that way.

8:15AM - hmm…that's weird…the conference phone doesn't look like it's on. Duh, just needs to be plugged in.

8:16AM - um, gee, I don't think it's supposed to flash and crackle like that…maybe it's just warming up?

8:25AM - ok DEFINITELY something wrong with phone - not good - need phone - otherwise will have to resort to morse code and smoke signals

8:26AM - enlist (ok, order) team member to "GO FIND ME ANOTHER PHONE THAT WORKS"

8:27AM - said team member locates other phone but spends considerable amounts of time extracting it from a tangled mangled pile of wires

8:30AM - same team member has finally unraveled snake pit of phone cords and is ready to swap it out with original piece of sh*t phone…only…wait? What's that? Original phone miraculously starts working. Of course.

8:32AM - boot up the projector so I can kick off my fabulous intro and rockin' powerpoint presentation

8:45AM - everyone has arrived, ice breaker is underway…people laughing…boss shows up and joins the fun…this is working out swimmingly!

9:00AM - our first guest presenter - via phone. Due to the magic of technology, am able to display her presentation from my laptop through a projector and onto a movie screen that comes down from the ceiling with the flick of a switch. Nothing but the best technology.

9:15AM - uh-oh…what happened? Presentation looks all blurry on the screen…lots of weird colors and lines…pretty sure I'm not on an acid trip

9:17AM - I know! I'll press a few computer keys which will magically fix this little problem!

9:20AM - I know! I'll reboot the projector!

9:25AM - I know! I'll retract the movie screen so the presentation will be projected onto the whiteboard instead.

9:26AM - Wait what?? What the f*ck does retracting the screen do? It's the same pyschedelic presentation - whether projecting on a movie screen or on a whiteboard. IDIOT. IDIOT. IDIOT.

9:27AM - presenter doesn't realize we can't see anything she's referring to - so she keeps talking - ok - must quietly resort to emergency back up plan which is….

9:28AM - RUN like hell to the facilities room to get help

9:29AM - getting blank stares from facilities dudes (clearly not a good sign)

THEM: No one knows how to fix that hi-tech fancy hanging-from-the-ceiling projector. Only Dave knows how. And Dave is retiring.

ME: WHAT?! Well where the F*CK is Dave now?? He's where?? On vacation??? &$^%#!(*!

THEM: Oh, um, hey, I think we have a portable projector you could use? Would that help?

ME: Why are you still standing there?? Of course it would help!!! Hurry up and Hand it over now!! (Translation: Remedy my problem or I'll kill you)

STATUS #2: WORK CAN REALLY BE A GRIND SOMETIMES

9:31AM - Quickly set up portable projector. And 1, 2, 3….nothing. Are you kidding me??? Starting to sweat. No, I mean literally. Am getting sweaty. Try everything on god's green earth I know how to do to get that mofo to start.

No luck.

9:32AM - RUN back to facilities dude. Heads. Will. Roll.

ME: (veins bulging, teeth clenched) Um…THIS projector doesn't work either. Do you have another one? (You complete morons)

THEM: No

ME: daggers, daggers, daggers

THEM: Hmmm…you know…I think Julie might have a spare one?

ME: Julie?

RUN to the other side of the building. (Definitely NOT helping my sweaty situation.)

Get to Julie. Angels are singing. Julie will save me! Julie looks like she knows things. Important things. She's not sweaty. And Presto. Another projector. Want to marry Julie.

RUN back to meeting.

(Note to self: must find a way to discreetly grab one of those napkins over there and mop my face)

Quickly set up projector. And 1, 2, 3….nothing. C*CK SUCKER MOTHER F*CKER.

Now 3 people (including my boss) are trying to help me because I'm sure they're thinking I'M the problem. I mean what was with that whole movie screen retraction thing anyway? She clearly should stick to looking at spreadsheets.

Am dripping sweat. I'm talking rivulets people.

Everyone and their brother try to get Julie's projector to work. (Julie…how could you do this to me?! The engagement is definitely off)

RUN around trying to find another projector.

No luck.

Return to meeting room. In my absence someone decided to try using the original hi-tech, fancy, hanging-from-the-ceiling projector again and?…...it works just fine now. Of course.

Ask myself if perhaps I'm in the vortex of evil. Or maybe the Bermuda Triangle of technology.

STATUS #3: NOTE TO SELF - REMEMBER TO BOOKMARK MONSTER.COM

1:00PM - guest speaker #2 - live and in person. BUT - dialed into a conference line in order for remote employees to participate. There was MUCH coordination to get to this point but it was worth it! Here we go!

1:01PM - Begin my introduction of esteemed speaker who is sitting next to the conference phone - which I had initially put on mute - so as not to bother phone attendees with meeting prep noise

1:02PM - Get 3 words into my introduction when (semi-)esteemed speaker says SH*T. He had tried to unmute the phone, but instead disconnected the 20 people dialed in for the call.

1:03PM - Seriously?

STATUS #4: I MEAN C'MON. I'M NOT THAT OLD TO WORK AT STARBUCKS.

Who-The-Hell-Knows:30 PM -

Finally, 3rd speaker - and last guest presenter for the day. Thank god because frankly this meeting is now seriously hampering my plans to take a bath in a tub full of vodka.

Everyone is settled in. This will be good. Speaker is calm and collected. Also knows important things. Maybe he's related to Julie?

Speaker no sooner tries to kick off his presentation, when his laptop spontaneously reboots.

STATUS #5: I DON'T CARE IF I HAVE TO WORK AT THE DMV (not that there's anything wrong with that...)

The Wonders of Coprorate America

Cool, quiet, dim office. Practically vacant. That's why it's nice to be the first one here.

Plus it's Friday. Plus it's Summertime.

Wow, I think I just saw a tumbleweed roll by cubicle town.

So, I haven't posted in a while. I know, I know. You're all very angry with me for leaving you thirsty, hanging....craving any crumb of a detail about my life.

Oh yeah…I forgot. No one actually reads this blog.

But clearly that doesn't stop me!

Anyway….as I was saying….office. Have you ever seen the movie Office Space? If not, you MUST rent it. And if you actually work in any kind of office - especially one involving a lot of cubicles, irritating co-workers and malfunctioning fax machines - you must rent it IMMEDIATELY!!

I work in a place even more corporate than the company depicted in Office Space. And for those of you familiar with Dilbert - I personally KNOW the Pointy Haired Boss and the Evil HR director. They. Exist.

But here are some of the things I find absolutely FASCINATING (and by that I mean completely ridiculous and/or idioitic) about working in Corporate-ville.

1) ACRONYMS: We have an online dictionary that allows us to type in any acronym typically used in this company (and there are MANY) and it will give you the definition. Are you getting this peeps? Read that again. We have a DICTIONARY for our ACRONYMS. I can actually speak in WHOLE SENTENCES using only acronyms and be perfectly understood. WTF??

2) CATCH PHRASES: Seriously…if I hear the expression "think outside the box" ONE MORE TIME my head might explode. Or, get this…around here we don't use the word "problem" - we say "challenge". Because if you're not paying attention and/or you're an idiot, you might not realize that the CHALLENGE of actually achieving your unresourced, unrealistic corporate goals, is in actuality, a big ass PROBLEM.

3) SPORTS ANALOGIES: I admit it. I am one of those females who know next to nothing about sports. But I work in a male dominated organization. So guess what? Sports Analogies. Earlier in my career, I might have smiled politely and acted like I actually comprehended what on God’s Green Earth mr. corporate dude was referring to. Now? I JUST. DON'T. CARE. Exhibit A: I was in a meeting the other day with 2 other females. Our manager (gender=MALE) was making a point to the 3 of us and launched into an elaborate baseball analogy. Could he not see our glazed and vacant stares?? Was our drool simply not evident?? I couldn't help myself. I responded as follows: "I have absolutely NO idea what you just said". Puh-leeze. I've been doing this far too long to pretend I have even the slightest clue as to what the hell a 3rd baseman and a bunch of outfielders have to do with the excel spreadsheet we've been dissecting for the last 3 hours. Speaking of which…

4) SPREADSHEETS: Who knew Excel and I would be such close friends? I spend more time with Excel than I do with my own family. Pivot tables are my life. I actually got excited about a recently offered Pivot Table class which would totally-completely-further-expand-the-powerful-use-of-this-tool!!!!

OMG. who AM i?

5) COMPANY PARTIES: This really should have been at the top of this list. In all fairness, I'm not exactly an extrovert. But there is almost NOTHING I hate more than running a 3-legged race with my co-workers. Grrrlfriend -- don’t EVEN get me started on the egg-toss and water balloon events (insert ferocious triple snap here). Additionally, people get drunk at company parties. And act inappropriately. Totally not interested in watching those horrors play out. I spend enough time at work so if I'm going to socialize, I would rather do it with my family and friends. To me, these events are the exact definition of Forced Fun. And lest you DARE consider skipping out, you'll be getting all sorts of emails prior to the event "reminding" you that if you prefer not to participate in said Fun (subtext: DIE LOSER DIE!) you are EXPECTED to stay in the office and work *)$&*@%#!

Peeps - I hope your weekend is full of sparkly fun involving zero office work.

P.S. TGIF

Thurs. Eve / Fri. Morn: Random Musings

I went out to dinner with a girlfriend last night. Cocktails. Appetizers. Dinner. AND Dessert. Wham Bam Thank You Ma'am! Stick a fork in me - I'm done. Incredibly decadent 'twas. Plus uber expensive (for little old "living paycheck to paycheck" me). But sometimes it just feels goooood to be bad.

And don't girlfriends R.....O.....C.....K in the USA???? Poor manly man men. No giggling over hunky hunks. No sharing of recipes, cute websites and jewelry. No hugs Before Dinner. No hugs After Dinner. No shedding of tears During Dinner. Ok...could I stereotype any MORE?!? But seriously. My intention is good. Which is to say sometimes there's nothing more nourishing than comfort food and some soul talk with your gal pal. My thanks to you Babs for listening, talking, & laughing with me last night.

Then I get home from said dinner. And I set my alarm for f'ing 5:40 AM but of course wake up even earlier with no hope of falling back asleep. HATE that. I shower, I pack lunches, I wake toddler (a.k.a. nutter butter, munchkin, snoopy-snoop, cutest child EVER; oh and he's a genius too), Try to convince toddler that 1/2 eaten yogurt from yesterday is truly delectable and not to be missed. Toddler throws giant tantrum. Hmmm...maybe NOT cutest kid ever. But luckily (!!) it's not MY turn to bring Crankenheimer to daycare. NAY! It's hubby's turn to do drop off AND pick up. She Shoots! She Scores!! (I know what you're thinking....Mother-of-The-Year material. Don't worry...I'm not expecting a gold statue any time soon).

So I drag my sorry, tired, mid-life crisis arse into my favorite little hole-in-the-wall, locally owned coffee shop. God - I'm a LOSER BABY. Because truth be told - I went where I go EVERY goddamn morning...Starbucks. Yeah that's right. I said it. And you're not going to believe me but I really, truly DON'T LIKE most chains - chain restaurants, chain theme parks, chain letters, chain gangs...

But STARBUCKS.....can you hear the angels singing? I admit it. THIS chain I love. I love their mugs and their cute little pastries. I love their annoying little CD mixes and their friendly banter. I feel like Norm at Cheers. Everybody knows my name!! How do they DO that? If I ever get canned at my current job...well...I'm just sayin'. Might be a green apron in my future.

Now here's the ridiculousosity of it all. I Don't Actually Drink Coffee. I know! Abzzzzurd! But I likes me a tall cooool Iced Tea in the summer. And a warm version in the winter. And YES...I know that for the price of my Starbucks tea...I could get a whole box, maybe 3, of Lipton tea bags. Shame on me. But Lipton is Red And Yellow. And comes in a Box. And I don't waaaahnnaaah make it myself. And Lipton doesn't know WHO the hell I am.

SO I figure...if a spot of tea and a dab of scone (when did I become British??) can brighten the bijillion-hour day I have in front of me then I say....what the hell. I mean c'mon...I recycle. I let people cut in front of me in traffic. I donate to cancer research and NPR and Girl Scouts (and no - not just because I get cookies in return. But really it's because I get cookies in return).

Happy Friday Everyone! (Which is to say No One because that's exactly how many people are reading this blog. Where are you all?? I need some Peeps!!)

Sunday (again)

As a kid, I dreaded Sunday. It meant school the next day. Waking up early. New homework assignments. More tests. No fun. And although I enjoyed school for the most part, there was just something about that part of the weekend that brought me D-O-W-N.

Ironically, Sundays are often made out to be lovely, relaxing, picnic-inducing, church-going, family supper 'oil-on-canvas' moments. And granted, I'm sure there are many folk out there who feel that way. I'm just not one of them.

That said however...had I known what was in store for me in the working world, I would have kept my griping schoolkid trap shut.

I envy people who jump out of bed with the excitement of a new day; who look forward to a job/career/purpose they love. I don't personally know ANY of you, but I do envy you. Don't get me wrong, I actually like to work. But as a full-time working mother sometimes I just need an EVER-LOVIN' BREAK ALREADY. When you wake up each morning feeling like it's groundhog's day....over and over and over....you kinda (desperately) wish you were independently wealthy.

Every weekday morning I'm dying for a few more minutes (ok, more like a few more HOURS) of sleep. In a groggy, foggy haze I shower, dress, feed my toddler, get him dressed and get out the door. But that's a VERY simplified, not-so-daunting summary of my morning...

The reality is I usually leave the house with wet hair - regardless of season. Which means of course in the middle of winter I show up to work with my hair frozen in popsicle-like chunks. (Oh-so-attractive not to mention extremely professional). I've also arrived at the office, on more than one occasion, wearing my sweater inside out and of course not noticing (and nobody telling me) until I happen to wander into the ladies room and see myself in the mirror. There was also the time I wore my underwear inside out and the other time I wore my thong backwards (call me crazy but I swear-to-god it was more comfortable that way). And please...I can't COUNT the number of times I've put on mis-matched socks. But Ok - so maybe none of those things are completely disastrous, but that's because I'm not fully conveying to you the "picture" this creates.

Let me tell you a little story...

I work for a big corporation and they're...well....very corporate. The other morning, I blew into work as I normally do...with a hair style that was less of a style and more like a half damp, half frizzy, Cousin It-type coiffe. I had a hobo bag slung across me bulging with god-knows-what, another bag hanging on my shoulder and an iced tea in each hand. Certainly that image is bad enough right? But it just so happens it had recently been a swampy 90+ degrees. Did you hear me??? The 90s!!! I live in the NORTHEAST. Suffice it to say, I don't "do" tropical. So on top of everything else, I'm a sweaty Cousin It-like mess.

But here's the thing -- because I prefer to start work early and then get home at a reasonable hour - I'm often the first one in the office which means I can tidy up a bit and make myself more presentable before the rest of the masses arrive. This morning was no different....or so I thought....

I entered the cool air conditioned building and quietly slipped into the elevator to bring me to my floor. Just as the doors were closing, (you can see it right? just like in the movies), a slim, well-dressed gentleman joined me. He smiled politely and graciously made easy chit-chat. But as soon as he had gotten onto the elevator I recognized him. He was my boss's boss's boss's...oh forget it...it's easier to start with the CEO and work my way down...that's how high up he is. He never (well, clearly not never) visits our office.

Ratty-haired, (sweaty), bag lady, (sweaty), beverage carrying, (sweaty) ME and cool, slim, impeccably dressed Mr. Corporate. (How can he not be sweating in all that corporate garb?!). It sort of felt like I imagined career suicide would feel. Now I don't want to sound overly dramatic. I did manage to hold up my end of the chit-chat and show a teensy bit of confidence, but anyone else in my shoes would have pounced at the opportunity and made the most of this rare big-game sighting...would have introduced themselves, would have offered a nice strong handshake (assuming they weren't gluttonously double fisting their iced tea that morning) and would have promptly launched their "elevator speech". And while it did actually cross my mind to introduce myself, I wasn't quite sure I wanted to give him a name to put with this Cousin It-sweaty faced-employee.

The point being...all this occurred on a Monday morning. Which only further supports my case for disliking Sundays. Hope you all have a lovely week ahead.

Really? I'm a blogger??

Seriously? A blog? Aren't I a bit long in the tooth for this? Granted at 41 years of age I'm not exactly doing the shuffle board circuit yet, but it all seems a bit "mid-life crisis" (i.e. lame). Not that there's anything wrong with that...

Honestly, I'm not sure why I decided to start blogging...or more specifically, why now. Maybe it's because screaming in my office during the work day can scare the other employees and giving the finger to everyone who CAN'T DRIVE TO SAVE THEIR LIVES could possibly lead to getting arrested.

I'm told I have a good sense of humor, but then again that's feedback from relatives - people who love you no matter what and don't tell you that when you went to the prom wearing that hideous pink Gunne Sax dress (with a lace BIB!!!) you looked like some tragically modern version of Laura Ingalls Wilder. (Did I mention the BIB???)

So maybe I can let it all hang out on this blog, entertain a couple of people and also save on a therapy bill (or bail money). We'll see how it goes. As a full-time working mother (wife, daughter, sister, ex-circus employee -- more on that later) who constantly feels the current is about to suck her under, this may be a short-lived "finding myself" project. (A box of wine might be more gratifying.)

Ok - my first blog is behind me. We'll see how I feel tomorrow when I re-read this post and cringe. Now surely there's a brownie somewhere with my name on it...