the strange planet inside my head
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tapped out
that's what i feel like.
i tried, i really did. but Miss Thang was on the front desk while i was attempting to tackle the pile of ca-ca on my desk. counterspace. (whatever.)
i don't know what's happened to her. it's like, she knew more before she started working here, and has become progressively worse at her job. and she's on a hair trigger; today she was screaming at Buddy for a snafu the other night, one that could have been avoided had she done the basic, rudimentary tasks associated *with* her job (instead of talking on the phone or watching reruns of "I Love New York.")
i had to step in -- her voice was rising in volume with every word, and Buddy, although he's gansta, is no match for a Black Woman With Attitude.
that takes a redhead.
i reminded her (gently; Miss Thang requires Kid Gloves, i've learned) of the protocol in a situation such as the one encountered, and she backed off. the fuse diffused, and Buddy was grateful. heh.
****
a very simple thing this morning turned into a thirty minute lesson on something that she's done before and should know like the back of her hand after two years.
*sigh*
i can believe this place sucks your brain cells, but i don't think that's it. i don't know what it is. and i can't fix it if i don't know.
****
i spent quite a bit of time cleaning out my hard drive and moving a bunch of stuff to a flash drive. i'm a pack rat in every way...i found things i'd forgotten i had and i'm going to make a habit of going through this stuff on a regular basis.
the hard drive took a deep, gulping breath and is moving a lot better.
time well-spent, i suppose, but i need to get to work.
****
although an early bedtime sounds a lot better.
the Weird Chick called me at midnight last night to ask me what she should do -- the videotape in the VCR broke.
uh.
get another one?
oh, okay.
jeezuz wept.
****
hopefully, i can into some kind of routine here at some point. i have to harness up.
is that even possible?
Check out TSB for the most legal fun you can have with your clothes on.
i tried, i really did. but Miss Thang was on the front desk while i was attempting to tackle the pile of ca-ca on my desk. counterspace. (whatever.)
i don't know what's happened to her. it's like, she knew more before she started working here, and has become progressively worse at her job. and she's on a hair trigger; today she was screaming at Buddy for a snafu the other night, one that could have been avoided had she done the basic, rudimentary tasks associated *with* her job (instead of talking on the phone or watching reruns of "I Love New York.")
i had to step in -- her voice was rising in volume with every word, and Buddy, although he's gansta, is no match for a Black Woman With Attitude.
that takes a redhead.
i reminded her (gently; Miss Thang requires Kid Gloves, i've learned) of the protocol in a situation such as the one encountered, and she backed off. the fuse diffused, and Buddy was grateful. heh.
****
a very simple thing this morning turned into a thirty minute lesson on something that she's done before and should know like the back of her hand after two years.
*sigh*
i can believe this place sucks your brain cells, but i don't think that's it. i don't know what it is. and i can't fix it if i don't know.
****
i spent quite a bit of time cleaning out my hard drive and moving a bunch of stuff to a flash drive. i'm a pack rat in every way...i found things i'd forgotten i had and i'm going to make a habit of going through this stuff on a regular basis.
the hard drive took a deep, gulping breath and is moving a lot better.
time well-spent, i suppose, but i need to get to work.
****
although an early bedtime sounds a lot better.
the Weird Chick called me at midnight last night to ask me what she should do -- the videotape in the VCR broke.
uh.
get another one?
oh, okay.
jeezuz wept.
****
hopefully, i can into some kind of routine here at some point. i have to harness up.
is that even possible?
Check out TSB for the most legal fun you can have with your clothes on.
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