Concerning cowardice, and dinosaurs

I'm a coward, apparently. When it comes down to fight-or-flight, I flee. My self-preservation instinct is "get the hell out of here fast."

And I hate to think that about myself. "Coward" isn't something anyone wants to be, but here I am: When the going gets tough; Run.

Or, at least that's the conclusion I've come to based upon these last few days at work. All I want to do is get out. Gone, baby, gone. I could pick up my jacket, pick up my bag, and never look back. Yesterday almost featured an indefinite lunch break.

I've been faced with irrational expectations since my first manager quit. My coworkers, as far as I can understand, are operating under the assumption that as long as they know something, I must know it too.

The pressure builds up until a day or two before the monthly reporting is due. All of a sudden, from nowhere, I'm told to accomplish tasks I don't understand. As difficult as it may be, I try and struggle through it, even going so far as to blindly strike keys and hope for the best.

All it would take is a litte oversight. I'm sure that Insolent Bob could stand over my shoulder and say "No, that's not right. This type of security has to be booked on the foreign cash account, not the USD cash account. It's not usually a big deal because we only see about one or two of these a month, but, there's an easy way to tell. Just look here at the last two letters of the security code. That will let you know which account to book it to."

That seems easy, right? A tip. Check the last two letters, and from then on I wouldn't be messing up trades or positions or cash because I'm booking a foreign trade to a local account. Teach a man to fish...

But Insolent Bob doesn't offer tips. He offers vague, often incoherent statements of disbelief from his desk two rows over.

"You mean you didn't run a position report and then check holdings foreign with a date of yesterday? Or why didn't you go settle all trades under rebook?"

And sometimes I want to scream. Or pick up my monitor and launch it across the office. Or combust. Spontaneously. That would teach these guys a lesson.

But, most times, or after the fire fades from my imagination a new idea grows. Pick up your coat. Walk out the door. Don't look back. Why the hell are you getting so worked up about this anyway? It's not like you care.

Though, it now seems that is not quite an instinctual flight response. That's actually more of a "fuck that noise" response.

Maybe I'm not a coward.

On the other hand, if I'm not a coward, if my instinct is not to flee, does that imply my instinct is to fight?

We're talking about base instincts here, the most animalistic, instantaneous response. If you've got time to think your way out of a situation it doesn't apply.

I imagine me, in a loincloth, somewhere in the Mesozoic, facing off with a giant tyrannosaurus, club in one hand, rock in the other. "What would I do?"

I think I'd run, banking on my top speed being greater than the great lizard's. Also, I'd try to climb up a mountain, because I'd probably be safe.

But maybe I could take him.

Here in the office I don't know if fight would serve me any better than it would against the T-Rex. I could punch Insolent Bob in the face, but that would just make him mad, and then he'd punch me back. That won't help me with monthly reports.

I could fight insolence with insolence and turn surly, obnoxious, rude, and unhelpful, but I don't know if he'd get the message, and it would put me in a dark place I'd rather not go.

I could throw my monitor around the office. That would either get me fired (subconscious flight response?) or company sponsored counselling (hello, blogging?), and still no closer to understanding my job.

Then there's deliberately not doing any work, forcing my manager or Insolent Bob to take care of my responsibilities, plus their own.

That won't work either. Part of their own responsibilities is making sure I can handle mine, and we all know that they haven't accomplished that.

I'm going to end this post here, because I can't think of a morale, and because I'm getting hungry.

If I don't come back I guess we can put this question to rest.

-t

recommended download:
Bizet, Overture from Carmen

Mission to Arrakis

Dune a reality? The only thing missing now is cloning, hallucinagenic spice, giant sandworms, a feudal system, the Butlerian Gihad, human computers, and a few millenia.

Am I right, folks, or am I right?

But seriously. If you haven't read Dune, you really should. It's the greatest science fiction story ever. Really. Best ever. You can buy one for cheap here, or I'll lend you my copy.


-t

A Knock at the Door

You may be tempted, as you read the first few lines of what would have been, the first few lines of this post, to assume it is a Daylight Savings post. Right now, the first few lines, and a few after that, are a disclaimer about the first few lines of what follows them. (More confused that you were before you navigated over here, eh? All part of the game.)

So, I assure you it is not a Daylight Savings post.

And, Daylight Savings is a sham, I don't mind saying so, and I encourage all of you to ignore it. No more of this "Fall Back, Spring Forward" lemming-like march to the clocks. Disregard it, I say!

I would be disregarding it, as I'm telling you to, also, were it not for the fact that everyone else on the planet does set the clocks back. And you may think this has important implications a certain area of my life, most notably "Employment," but you would be wrong. The only reason I, too, follow the beat of the crazed daylight-saving drummer, is so I don't miss any good shows on TV.

So much, for the digression. On to the real post:

Ok. I lied. Not on to the post. Instead, I'm going to get coffee. I'm tired, and need it. I will explain why in the post, when I return...


I'm back. Medium coffee, plain bagel, toasted with cream cheese. "Work" is a place I go between meals.

So, the story:

Last night I stayed up until all hours of the morning rationalizing the time with "it's not really midnight, it's really only eleven o'clock. daylight savings is stupid. it doesn't even save daylight, it only makes it darker when you get out of work, which, really, would be the best time for it to be light out, you know?"

Which is when I found Iron Chef America (Battle Honey) on food network.

So, I was up until one o'clock, about, on a work night, plus the time it took me to get ready for bed, and actually fall asleep. In my head "I know it's only really midnight now, but you still have to get up in six hours, whether the alarm clock reads six o'clock or seven o'clock."

So I woke up an hour before my alarm. Wide awake. Bushy-tailed, read to go. I was amazed.

So, I took my time getting ready. Watched some SportsCenter. Hung out. At eight fifteen there was a knock on my door. "Come in," I called.

It was Danny, a high school sophmore, bleary-eyed and rumpled, he looked desperate. "Tommy, can you give me a ride to school?! I'm late."

HA. So, just as you were expecting my story to end with "I overslept because DST is stupid" it ended with "My brother overslept because DST is stupid!"

How's that for a twist?

Now I'm going to go back and enjoy my coffee and bagel, which I didn't have time for this morning, because I was driving my brother to school, and you can go back to thinking it's ten fifteen, when we all know that it's actually eleven fifteen.

Stupid pilgrims.
-t

All fun and games...

I'd like to take a moment to be serious here.





Ok. That was it. The moment is gone. Seriousness has no place here, unless of course, if we're talking about a frivolous subject seriously. (As in: Would Destro actually be a better commander of Cobra's forces than their own Cobra Commander) (and for you advertising/marketing fans out there please, please tell me there's a letter or email out there somewhere castigating those Hasbro guys for coming up with that name for the character) (on the other hand, it worked - everybody knows which character I'm talking about.)

Anyway. The point: This is the place frivolity should come to frolic. (Except on the days I'm complaining about work. Frivolity should probably stay away when I'm in one of those "dark moods," lest I accidentally throw something heavy in its general direction and do ... serious... damage.)

So, to those of you who hate your jobs and come here because you like the "I hate my job" posts, I commiserate.

To those of you who hate those posts and are here for the inane ones, I celebrate. "goofy" is just another word for "cool." (I'm serious. Haven't you seen either of the Goofy Movies? Or Goof Troop? That was a pretty good show. It didn't hurt to be on in the same programming block as the Disney blockbusters Darkwing Duck and Tailspin, that's for sure.)

And to the rest of you, who hate both kinds of posts and are just here to use my links bar, fine. Leave your money on the dresser on your way out.

(oh, seriously, though? if any of you want to give me some money? that would be great.)

-t

Managerial Oversight; Lack thereof

Let's talk about what it takes to manage well.

Well, we could talk about opening a Word document, walking to the printer, then realizing, halfway there, that you didn't click "print." We could talk about any of the three times I tried to do this already today.

But we won't. We will talk about managers. Also, you have to promise not to use words like "synergy." It's not a word. And it's stupid.

Oh, and if anyone says "outside the box" I'm going to bop them one in the nose.


I was hired to process numbers for mutual funds. In the interview it was made very clear that I would be trained to do just that. Training was promised - therefore, and perhaps unreasonably, training was expected.

I wasn't trained. Not in the slightest. I learned, my first day, how to log into the system, and how to book a trade. That's it. I have not been trained on anything since then. At all. Ever. No training. Zip.

Now. That is mainly the fault of Insolent Bob, my coworker, and senior employee. It fell to him to train "the new guy" (me). Bob is a horrible trainer. Awful. Worst-ever.

But, we're talking about managers. Bad ones.

A good manager would probably do the following:

Check in with the new employee every day for the first week/two weeks/month to ask what the new employee had learned that day, to ask if the new employee had any questions about what he had been shown, and answer those questions.

A badmanager, or lazy manager, would.... do nothing. He'd stay in his cubicle all day while the new employee was being non-trained, and then go home for the night without talking to the new employee - ever.

Much of the near-constant frustration I feel is a direct result of not knowing how to do my job, which is itself a direct result of not receiving the proper (or any) training.

Now. I am not one to sit back and be frustrated, if I can help it. So, when I realized my trainer was a moron, and insolent, and that my manager was not going to come to me to follow up, I tried appealing to him directly for help and training.

A good manager would have trained me, or assigned me to another trainer who wasn't insolent.

A bad manager would suck on his teeth (a la everybody's favorite manager Bill Lumberg) and say "Ooh, um, yeah. I, uh, don't really deal with this fund...on a... day-to-day...basis... So, um, I... yeah, you should just ask Bob... about that..."

W.T.F. mate. W.T.F.

After months of this a bad manager would critique the work I've been (not-)doing while offering no help or clarification. He would stop by my cubicle after four months and say "Did you do the expense billing for last month on any of your funds?" to which I would reply "No. I still haven't been shown expense billing. I know how to take the numbers from this spreadsheet and move them to that spreadsheet. and that's it."

To which he would respond with. "Ok. Well, those expenses have to get done by this afternoon."

Then. After six months. When the nightmare client comes in to talk about how we're (mis)handling their fund, a good manager would take five minutes the day before the meeting and ask his employees if there's anything in particular they think he should bring up at the meeting. He would also, at that time, provide an itinerary for the meeting, outline what he expects to happen, and describe the expected outcome.

A bad manager would send an email reminder when the clients show up in the lobby saying "Client meeting in two minutes"

During the meeting a good manager would raise his employees' concerns and defend those employees, rightfully or not, from the client's attacks.

A bad manager would start bickering with the client's second-in-command across the conference table about an email dispute the two of them had started two months ago. Why don't you guys just grow up? Behavior like this makes you look like kindergarteners who missed nap time.

After the client left, a good manager would do a quick review with his employees. The following day he would send out an email highlighting the important points covered in the client meeting and any steps that will be taken as a result.

After the client left, a bad manager would take off early, and the following day would act as though nothing had happened.

Which is exactly what happened.

-t


recommended download:
Three Doors Down, It's Not Me, Father's Son, Let Me Go, Landing In London

(or the entire "Seventeen Days" album)

Am I the Nautilus, or am I the Giant Squid?

When I come in to work in the morning I open gmail and my RSS reader as soon as I sit down at my computer. I don't do any real work until early afternoon (at the earliest).

I spend the morning hours reading blogs, occasionally chatting, occasionally posting.

But these are all stall tactics. I realized this morning what I'm stalling for:

What I'm really doing in the morning hours is waiting for someone to come by and tell me I've made a mistake.

Let that sink in. I spend at least three hours at the start of my day, everyday, waiting for my lazy manager or insolent Bob to tell me I did something wrong.

Because I know I have. I'm pretty sure I've done a lot of things wrong. I'm absolutely sure that I have not done a number of things I should have done.

And I assumed that supervisors and managers would review my work to catch any mistakes I'd made, then review procedures with me to correct mistakes and prevent future occurences.

So, right now, in these morning hours, when I expect to be confronted with my mistakes, how about you readers try and spot one I've made?

Ok, you don't have to. It's right there. A few lines up. In red.

It seems the modus operandi around here is "do nothing, review nothing, leave everyone alone." Mistakes aren't caught daily because no one's looking. No reviews. Nothing.

Then at month-end I have two or three people saying things like "Well, did you accrue the management fee?" and "Did you book the admin fee when it was billed?" and "Did you book these trades?"

The answer, usually, is "No." Sometimes I can answer with "Yeah, I thought I did. How do I check?"

I think the three important steps are:

1. Knowing what you're supposed to do/when you're supposed to do it.
2. Knowing how to do it.
3. Knowing how to check that it was done correctly.

I understand point #2 about half the time. But for #1, 3? I'm at a loss. Perpetually.

So, here I sit, this Wednesday morning, waiting for someone to tell me what I've done wrong.

I don't do anything because (point #1) I don't know when I'm supposed to do something, or what that something might be.

I can't catch my own mistakes, that I'm sure I've made, because (#3) I don't know how to check.

I'm forced, from time to time, to send questing emails to Insolent Bob and my lazy manager. "I just booked this trade. I don't know if I did it right. Can you check it?" It's two-to-one they respond.

The depth of futility can be measured in leagues.

I've lost that sense of frustration though. For a short while it was despair, but now, now it's apathy.

This afternoon I'll start work on the few trivial things I can do. Until then it's reading, posting, and chatting.

But, really, it's waiting.

-t


recommended download:
Tenacious D, Tribute
Theme, I Dream Of Genie
and
Janis Joplin, Mercedes Benz

If ignorance is bliss, then I'm sure they're both very happy

Overheard between Buffalo, and Insolent Manager:

---

"...I've never met a nurse that's in love with her job."

"I dated one."

"They're not treated well. Doctors shit on them, families shit on them, they're basically servants. Well-educated servants. They have an education and have to wipe up shit all day."

"Well, nah, they can get a masters degree, and then they can give out medications. Prescriptions."

"Oh. Really?"

"Yeah, because they take the place of a doctor."

---

How does this happen?

Make New Links, and Keep the Old...

Ok, here is the deal. I have updated the sidebar links to include stuff I've been reading lately. I will be attempting, in the coming months, to keep it up-to-date.

Also, since the "break down" of the links is important to some of you (I won't mention any names) (but you know who you are) (and should be ashamed of yourselves) (for endorsing link segregation) (for shame), the breakdown is as follows:

News & Reference - contains things that are updated on a daily (or in a few cases semi-regular-) basis that feature either news items (bostonist), interesting references and links (kottke, boingboing), or pictures (ephemera, explodingdog, APOD (which is great)).

In Boston - contains links to blogs written or maintained by people currently living in or near Boston. Many of the folks I met at Blogtoberfest have been added to this section

Not In Boston - contains links to blogs written or maintained by people currently living someplace that isn't Boston. Many of these people once attended school with me (brassicaput, mrs. anonymous, amazo) and have moved away, many others are "famous" (mightygirl, defective yeti), and one of them is my girlfriend (acaffeinatedplace).

On Notice - contains links to blogs that I'm on the fence about. Things I used to like but have begun to decline, things I've started to read but aren't yet convinced I should be investing ten seconds a day into, things I really don't like, but keep the links around for propriety, or for those of my readers that do like them.



Hope that helps. And finally, there's a pretty interesting comment thread on the Use It Toni-i-i-i-ight Post, just a few posts below this one.

-t

recommended download:
The Shirelles, Mama Said There'd Be Days Like This

A Sense of the Infinite

I have no desire to do work today. This is an entirely recent development.

I woke up early, four minutes before my alarm, invigorated, and ready to start the day. I know you've been there sometime. That extra four minutes seems like the window to the universe. You can do anything in that small moment. Small increments of time stretch to encompass all time, forever. Inifinity exists in the pre-alarm time. It's a wonderful thing to experience.

So, I got up to take a shower, turned on the water, stepped in, and that's where things went horribly wrong.

I mean for my enthusiasm. Not my physical person.

I don't know exactly what happened to damp down, and stamp out my energy, but something did. It may have been the temperature of the water...too hot, not hot enough, exactly the right temperature to sap strength and vigor; it may have been my shampoo; soap- who knows?

Maybe it was SportsCenter. I watched about ten minutes before leaving for work. It was the normal football wrap-up. I'm pretty sure it wasn't SportsCenter.

The train ride? The music I was listening to on the train? The book I was reading?

I can only say for certain that right now, at this moment, I have no desire to work, at all, ever.

Which, at this place, really doesn't mean much at all. Now all I'm doing is trying to decide between a two-hour coffee break to finish my book, or searching the web for advanced lock-picking techniques. You never know when they might come in handy.

-t

recommended download:
Neil Young, Needle and the Damage Done
Foreigner, Jukebox Heroe

Use It Toni-i-i-i-i-i-ght!

Gin is still leeching from my pores. Blech.

Who was it that invented the martini? Who was it that invented gin, for that matter? I'd like to punch the lot of them in the mouth, and then steal their gin-making recipe.

I started with the martini. It was awful. I was disgusted. That is a taste I will choose not to acquire. I chased it with seven Jacks & Coke.

And the gin is still leeching from my pores.

Also I am slightly hungover. Just enough that right after I'd showered this morning I couldn't remember if I had showered already.

Which isn't that bad. I get the same way after a sugar bender: Loss of short-term memory, papery tongue, gin leeching.

Oh, wait, no. The gin leeching is from the martini. Blech!

Well, if you've slogged through that, here are some thoughts on the BLOG! party, aka Blogtoberfest:

I really expected there to be about six people who were cool, and forty people who...definitely were not.

But, as it turns out, there were like thirty cool people (and loads of people over thirty! haha! Hey, old folks!) some, but not all, of the cool people were:

Jenny took pictures and I was warned away twice from touching her camera because "It's her baby. If you dropped it, she would, like, kill you, seriously."

No worries though. I spent four years in a photo shop, I've handled tons of photo equipment, also, I'm a homosapien and come with the standard fine motor skills and hand-eye-coordination. And at that point I'd only had two drinks.

Sarah was way taller than anyone had guessed. Erin was way shorter than I had guessed. Both were very cool and funny, though I'm pretty sure Erin was at no point during the night either chain-smoking or vomitting on the sidewalk.

Maybe it happened, though, I left at 10:30.

Oh, and, I got home just, in, time, to see the bottom of the ninth inning of the Mets/Cards game. WHAT A PITCH! It was awesome. Also, yeah, that sucks for everyone who would have had the day off today because their boss happens to root for the Mets - because you're probably at work right now while you're reading this.

Nathan was pretty cool, though I certainly don't come off as such based on the description he gave me on his blog. "Work and Fantasy Football?" No one says you have to accurately report what happened last night! I was going to say that Nathan is a career spy for the CIA. Oh, also, Erin was totally puking behind the bar while simultaneously chain-smoking, and taking straight vodka through an intravenous line. And Jenny and Sarah totally made out. Also Hooker shaved his head, right there at the bar. Man what a crazy night. Then there were ninjas.

Ok, maybe Jane (a real-life journalist) might be a stickler for accurate reporting, on the other hand, Hunter Thompson wasn't always accurate, and he founded an entire branch of journalism! (Gonzo Journalism) And at least two movies were written about him (Bill Murray,Where The Buffalo Roam; Johnny Depp, Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas)!

I'm forgetting people. After about five drinks (four? five?) I ended up at a table full of engineers. That was great. Electrical and Network. Oh, those crazy engineers. What stories. I really can't repeat them.

Ah, and I met some other cool people. Jaynie, and her bbffb (best-boy-friend-forever-buddy? who knows what abbreviations are out there nowadays?) one with a blog, both voracious commenters. Voracious is the wrong word. Prolific.

Also I met Hooker and Jon and exactly six other people who I thought were cool and have NO IDEA who they are. Time will tell, I expect. It's not that I'm bad with names or faces, it's just that I'm better with URLs.

Heads up everyone for the next Boston Bloggers Conference Festival of Blogging, we're thinking end of January, begining of February.

Be warned: It will be a flanel-themed party.

-t


recommended download:
Mission of Burma, Nicotine Bomb
and
The New Pornographers, The Slow Descent Into Alcoholism

I'm too drunk to blog

I'm too drunk to blog, if I met you tonight and you were cool, or thought I was cool (you know who I'm talkin' about ;) then leave me a comment, dudes. Because I definitely will not remember any of this when I wake up tomororw.

-t

Desire

It's 3:15 PM. Three hours and counting until the BLOG! party.

I'm seriously considering ditching work early and heading over to Blogtoberfest early to start drinking.

I'm on the fence right now, but one thing I'm sure of: It would absolutely increase my credibility with the other bloggers if I'm already hammered by the time they show up.

Am I right, or am I right?

-t

recommended download:
Queen, Breakthru

You know, for electricity...

Buffalo and Michael are talking about body fat, specifically tests to determine body fat percentage:

Buffalo: "How'd they do it to you?"
Michael: "They pinched my arm, and also put me in a water displacement tank."
Buffalo: "They've got cooler ways of doing it now."
Michael: "Really? Interesting."
Buffalo: "Yeah, they put these electroids on you and shoot electric current into you and it just goes into a machine."
Michael: "That was in high school. I think it was like four and a half percent... I was a long-distance runner."
Buffalo: "Yeah, I used to be heavy. I'd guess I'm at like 12 or 13 percent now, but at my fattest I was at like 23 percent."

Electroids. Really.
-t

One and One and One is PHILONEY

One And One And One Is Three

So what do you do when you realize the Biggest New Year's Party Ever (PHILONYE 07) which you've been talking about since last year's Biggest New Year's Party Ever (BONYE 06) is going to be prohibitively expensive?

Do you call your friend in Philly who is the one that is the most excited about it?

Do you IM all the other friends involved to complain and air grievances?

Or do you post the issue for all to see in an underhanded and confrontational-less format like, say, your blog?

So, as I said, the problem with the Philadelphia On New Year's Eve 2007 is expense, and not something crazy like "personal differences," or "friends with strange body odors." My concern is blowing my annual travel budget on the very first day of the year.

I don't have any specifics, which makes it a little harder to plan for sure, but, in general:

1. Hotels are going for about $200 a night. Even if I spend the minimum amount of time in the city (one night) that's $200 bucks. And who want's to spend just one night?

2. Plane tickets are going for about $200. Staying one night (see above) would mean flying out on Dec. 31st and flying back on Jan. 1st. That also seems stupid.

3. I'm not going to drive because it'll be cold, snowy, gas and parking will be expensive, and I (hopefully) won't be in any condition to drive the whole time I'm there. Also, it would mean a long drive home, hungover on Jan. 1st, which I do not relish.

I don't want to plan a $400 trip that gets me twelve hours with the gang. That is a poorly spent $400. On the other hand, if I plan a trip for longer I'm just racking up the hotel bill, turning a $400 expense into a $600 or $800 expense.

Spread over the whole year that's three or four weak-long trips to different places.

So, unless somebody's dad owns a hotel in downtown Philly... this may be unfeasable. Which would, yeah, suck.

-t

Update: Donny said I should take the train to Philly. Why didn't I think of that? It's maybe doable, and if I had the money, you know, I could fly down every other weekend (I hear they have good cheesesteaks)

Martini

Here's something to keep you all entertained. In honor of Blogtoberfest. It's the newest one up at intransitivity



-tgme

Boston Blogtoberfest - Recapping a Future Event

I'm writing this on Tuesday October 17th. The following is a recap of the Boston Blogtoberfest party which is scheduled for Thursday October 19th.


I spent all of last weekend learning how to blog from my phone in case I needed to send any live updates from the Boston Blogtoberfest party. I'll be updating throughout the night.

• I arrived late, but there are still a few people who haven't shown up yet. Sarah met me at the door and gave me a ridiculously gaudy nametag. I was sure they had been only joking about that. I ordered a martini and started putting blogs to faces. There's a guy on the other side of the room with a blinking LED nametag.
  
  
• Jenny, who is mostly responsible for throwing this thing together, just got up on the bar to make an announcement. Something about we're here to talk about blogs, and lots of other stuff. Don't sit in the corner with your PDAs. Her nametag is completely understated and almost professional. I have to find out who was responsible for the nametag construction.
  
  
• I'm three martinis in. I just met one of the guy's from Bostonist, Jon. I asked him why none of the editorial staff over there is actually a native of Boston. He didn't have a good answer. Then he started talking about Tom Selleck playing detective Jesse Stone from Robert B. Parker's Paradise books. Don't get me wrong, Tom Selleck's cool - but as Magnum P.I., not Jesse Stone. Besides, Robert Urich as Spenser was miles beyond Selleck in some stupid made for TV movie.
  
  
• Fiver martinis. The last two I flipped from gin martinis to vodka martinis... or the other way around? Anyway. Ordering whichever kind of drink at the bar I was right by a group of guys talking to Hooker about the logo for his bike gang. I told him if the gang was going to have such a girly name then the logo should have streamers. Probably pink and green ones. Because nobody uses streamers anymore. Ok, back in a few more drinks...
  
  
• Right. When I said I'd be right back I lied. I'm still on my fifth. After I said that thing about pink and greens streamers Erin (not erinire) grabbed my shoulder to introduce herself. "You said 'pink and green streamers' and my blog is 'Pink and Green Girl'! Funny, right?" So she dragged me over to a "favorite music" conversation she was having with Dave who I was tempted to refer to as "Old Dave" except for the other one, David.
  
  
• Jenny and Sarah are both live blogging from the party. Jenny's over near the bar and Sarah is sitting at a table at almost the complete opposite end of the room. Somebody's looking over Jenny's shoulder telling her what to write.
  
  
• Ok. I had to close my phone browser to check what the girls are posting. The girl dictating to Jenny is Erin (erinire) and she's making fun of people's outfits. They haven't seen me yet (there wasn't any mention of flanel). Sarah is blogging about the food and some guy who was hitting on her.
  
  
• I'm starting to pay more attention to the rest of the group, a couple people are checking their cell phones. It won't be long until someone figures out there are some blogs being updated.
  
  
• Got it! One of the girls I haven't met just gave the heads up to Jenny. It might have been Krista or maybe Lori, anyway. Jenny's punching keys like crazy right now. I'll give you three to one the only reason she's not on her laptop is because there's no wifi signal way back here.
  
  
• Sarah noticed. She's walking over to the bar, drink in one hand, typing with the other.
  
  
• I keep logging out to check what they're posting. A lot of other people have started noticing. It's going back and forth in cyberspace, and a crowd has formed around the bloggers. This could be a sporting event. You can tell who the supporters are. There's a small group around Jenny and one around Sarah, and another group that's shifting back and forth. Most of them are online with their phones, a couple others are looking over shoulders and shouting out funny lines from the posts. I'd be hiding my head in shame, but it might make more sense to jump into the middle of the crowd. You know, hide in plain sight.
  
  
• This is both tragic and hilarious. It is also almost exactly like dueling banjoes or a trip to a piano bar. I'm shouting out requests like "Post about the bartender! Hot or not!" Later I'm going to try and provoke some people "Who's the coolest person you met tonight?!" and other questions of that ilk. But first... another drink!
  
  
• Ok. That ended in some hysterical laughter and a big hug. The dueling bloggers, I mean, not my last drink. Ok. I'm going to put my cell phone away. My eyes are starting to smart from the hunt-and-peck. Maybe next year the live-blogging will be a sanctioned event, I'll have to look into a qwerty keyboard.
  
  'Til next time!
  
  We'll see how it really goes. (And, no, I won't be wearing flanel)(Unless it's cold.)
  
  -t
  recommended download:
  Mission of Burma, Nicotine Bomb

The One Hand Throws The Whiskey, And The Other Throws The Gun

I can hardly take the near-constant stream of Queen coming from Buffalo's desk.

I indulge the kid, too often, because he's the butt of most of the jokes, insults, jibes, and situational comedy that goes on here.

But there's no reason to listen to Janet Jackson, or to watch Duran Duran videos at max volume. There's no reason to whistle along with whatever crappy music you've got playing.

There's certainly no reason to be playing the same two Queen songs over and over and over on a Tuesday morning.

Don't get me wrong, I like Queen as much as the next guy, unless Buffalo is the next guy. There's no reason to play Somebody To Love seventeen times an hour.

The one admonishment we were given during our entrance interview was "The company internet policy, as written, is pretty strict, but we don't really enforce it. Nothing's really blocked. The only thing you absolutely cannot do is stream audio or video. No video."

I'm tempted to narc this kid out. I won't, because it's a prick move. I'll just throw on my iPod and crank the volume up until I can't hear anything anymore ever.

Then I'll go back to catching up on three days worth of reports I don't understand. At lunch I'm going to submit a new resume to monster.

-t

recommended download:
Three Doors Down, Landing In London, or, Father's Son
and, if you simply can't avoid Queen, try It's Late

Faking It

I'm doing my best to feign sickness. I've asked twice for ibuprofen, complained about feeling cold and "feverish," I'm keeping my head down on my desk, and moving slowly, and only when necessary. Luckily, my nervousness is doing wonders for my fake shivering.

If they buy it, it means I'm home free (more precisely: vacation free). Hit the T to the airport by noon, back by Tuesday morning as if returned from the lip of the grave. "Had to stay out Monday because my doctor said I was still contagious. And believe me, I wouldn't wish what I had on any of you."

If they buy it I'm going to be "sick" every other weekend.

-t

Does this make sense to anyone?

To: me
From: Client (Marie)

Did that check request get sent to Ellen?

To: insolent guy
From: me

Mary wants to know if you sent the check request

To: me
From: insolent guy

Yes – tell her the date that it was sent form fax cover. Tell her you will resend and send an email to Ellen and also ask Marie to give a heads up to Ellen, because you are not certain that Ellen ever receives your emails cause she hasn’t responded to your requests in the past ( is this a true summarization). ??


what?
-t

Update:

As a fun exercise I decided to decipher the message within the gibberish. I imagine this is a lot like decoding the human genome:

Yes. I faxed the authorization to Ellen last Thursday. This email from Marie concerns me, however. It may indicate that Ellen did not receive my initial fax. Please fax another copy of the authorization to Ellen and ask her to confirm receipt via email. Also, I believe Ellen has had some problems receiving email from your account in the past, is this correct? To overcome this obstacle you might ask Marie to email Ellen in order to give her a "heads-up" on the incoming fax, explaining, of course, to Marie, the difficulties Ellen may be having receiving your emails. Allow me to summarize these details in a bulleted list, if I may -

• The fax was sent last week.
  
• Resend the fax.
  
• Reply to Marie's email to inform her that you will resend the fax to Ellen.
  
• Via email, inform Ellen of the incoming fax, and ask her to confirm receipt of said fax.
  
• Again, via email, ask Marie to request a confirmation email from Ellen as well. - if you would like to combine these two emails to Marie in the interest of efficiency, you may, but you should in no way feel obligated to do so.
  
• Finally, if you have a moment today, you might think about contacting the information technology department in regard to the problems you may or may not be having with your email account.
  
  Also, the only part of either email I actually needed was "Yes."
  

Hookey

Here's the plan:

I'd booked a flight out of Boston for Friday night at seven. I was going to leave work asap and hit the blue line to the airport. I'd scheduled my return flight for Monday at noon.

I'd planned on calling in sick Monday, then rolling in to work Tuesday looking hungover to complete the disguise (or, possibly, because I will be hungover Tuesday).

But

The day after I'd booked my tickets I learned that both my lazy manager and the insolent guy will be out of the office on Thursday and Friday. I called the airline to see if they could bump me to an earlier flight, maybe leaving early Friday insted of late.They offered me a flight for Thursday at three in the afternoon.

The question is this: Do I stick with my original plan, or

Leave work at lunch time Thursday, call in sick Friday and Monday, and roll into work looking hungover on Tuesday?

On the one hand, my manager won't know I'm gone Thursday or Friday, because he won't be here, and insolent guy won't be here to tell him.

On the other hand, I might be expected to approve reports or correspond with the client because I'll be the only one here.

But, back on the first hand, I've set up a rule to autoforward my work email to my gmail account so I could still, hypothetically, field client requests and at least respond with "I'll have to look at this Monday" (Knowing full well I won't be in Monday, but that my manager will be and he can look into it)

I'm flipping back and forth, but basically, less work, is good work.

-t

Detroit, Detroit

I was going to write a post about how much I love baseball, and how the best performances appear in the playoffs.

But really, what I'd rather say is:

Ha-ha! Ha-ha! Yankees lost! Ha-ha! Suck it, A-Rod!

Suck it also, Bug Unit, Steinbrenner, Johnny Damon, Mussina, Matsui, Sheffield, Giambi, and Jeter.

Congrats to the Detroit Tigers (who, you may remember, have been my pick to win the World Series since their season opening 40-games-over-.500 position, and what the hell happened to Shelton?). Kenny Rogers put up the most emotional pitching performance I've ever seen in the playoffs, and rightly so. He's been plagued with the Payton-Manning "Can't win the big one" stigma for a long time. It was totally exhilarating to watch him overcome the best lineup in baseball dominating over seven and two-thirds innings.

They had some clutch hitting (Ordonez), some help from the Yankees (A. Rodriguez at third, Giambi at first, Abreu in right), some calls went their way (I. Rodiriguez at third), some great defense (Monroe), incredible speed on the basepaths (Granderson), and great bullpen work (Jones).

They're still my pick to win the World Series, though the Oakland series might be tough. The A's have started playing like a contender.
ALCS: Detroit over Oakland in six.
NLCS: St. Louis over New York in seven.
WS: Detroit over St. Louis in six.


Go Tigers.

-t

recommended dowonload:
Matt Nathanson, Detroit Waves

A Short Multimedia Post

The pier at Santa Monica, and Pacific Ocean. Nice, eh?




Toni Braxton (Revealed)




Donny, excited about Toni Braxton.




A short video of Donny and Ray on vibrating chairs outside Brookstone.

-t

Snooze-d

I was going to write about how great work was yesterday (I did actual, real work, and finished a report one whole day early), and then how not-so-great it was at the end of the day (I waited until six-thirty for the VP to approve my report only to learn then that he had gone home for the day at five o'clock).

But instead, I'll write about my alarm clock not going off this morning.

My alarm clock didn't go off this morning. Don't panic. This has happened to me before. I'm sure it's happened to many of you as well. You wake up, realize you've overslept, throw on some clothes, grab a bagel on your way out the door, arrive at work half an hour late, explain about the alarm clock, feel harried until at least lunchtime, and then put it behind you.

Well, that's if you overshot your alarm clock by thirty minutes or so. Hit the snooze one too many times.

I normally wake up at seven forty-five. Today I woke up at eleven forty-five.

(That's four hours.)

Whoo-boy.

I didn't really believe it at first. My alarm read 11:45 AM exactly. Maybe I'd punched the "adjust hour" button instead of the "off" button. Maybe it was really 7:45 and my clock only read 11:45.

But, just in case, I'm not going to waste anytime lying in bed pondering. I jumped up and hit the shower, then threw on some clothes and flipped open my cell phone: 11:51 AM.

Ok. I was going to be a little late for work.

I grabbed my bag and flew out the door. I made my way to the T station and waited ten minutes for an inbound train.

It's cool. I'm late, you know? Strolling in at twelve-twenty isn't much different than strolling in at twelve-thirty, so I'm not going to kill myself. I'll get there when I get there.

I get here at twelve twenty-five. My lazy manager is standing near my desk with a couple other guys. "Did you have a training class this morning?" they asked. "Nope. Slept through my alarm. I woke up about half an hour ago" I replied.

"Why'd you say that?" you must be thinking. If they thought you were in class you're home free!

That's a good thought, and on any other day I would have gone that route, but, today is the first Friday of the month, and there are no classes that are offered during the first week of every month. I'd have no problem saying I'd attended a class that actually met, but I won't say I attended a class that was never even scheduled.

I have to draw the line somewhere.

Not that it was a big deal, the next thing my manager said was "Well, you didn't miss much."

Which I'd been counting on. So, I sat down and started saving down reports and thinking about how long I'd have to wait before I left for lunch...

-t

(btw, there are a bunch of new drawings up at intransitivity I put up on Wednesday, check 'em out)

Yes, squid pro roe...

I try to help wherever I can, and I do so for entirely selfish reasons:

I've got a good job. I hate it, but the pay is good, there's plenty of room for promotion, and there's practically no distinction between hard work and no work.

Would you like a job here?

I am, right now, in a position to recommend, or at the very least refer, any of you to our hiring manager. I know that most people need money, and even a job you hate is better than no job, so I will do what I can to help you get a job.

Because I am totally banking on somebody (anonymous internet readers I'm including you in this too, so take note) striking it super successful and then getting me a cushy job.

I will help out whoever I can, with the hope, or understanding, that whoever could help me out would. I think it's a great policy.

Seriously. I'd do it if I were in a position of power. I'd hire everybody I knew. I'd pay for masters degrees, I would hook, you, up.

Because what goes around comes around, quid pro quo, back scratching, and all of that.

I'm just saying, it'd be nice if one of you would make it big sometime in the next week or so. Thanks.

-t

Slacking

Technical difficulties prevented me from booking two necessary trades yesterday. I'd been exchanging emails with the IT team for a week trying to get the issue resolved.

Also, we use SecurIDs here. Maybe you've seen them. Yesterday the ID I needed to login to the broker's website expired. Instead of flashing a random number it's flashing "OFF." We contacted the broker and they're going to FedEx an new one to us tomorrow.

So I've got to book trades and download reports. I'm totally unable to do either of those things. It's five fifteen. So I left.

Slacking? I guess you could look at it that way, if you define slacking as "anything less than over and above absolute maximum effort." I could have stayed an extra fifteen minutes and swept the floors, or cleaned out the floor refrigerator, would I have been slacking then?

Justifiable? Yes. I was getting nothing done sitting in the office, I could get the same nothing done not sitting in the office, and, in the second case, enjoyed it a lot more.

So I left. Fifteen minutes early. Today this was sitting in my mailbox, sent yesterday at 5:27 PM:

From: lazymanager@cantmanage.com
To: Tom@wontwork.com; Bob@insolentguy.com

Tom,

During month end please check in before leaving and see if there is anything that needs to be done. At some point you’ll need to sit with Bob and start learning his other fund. Keep in mind most of our funds are 5 day deliverables. If nothing else try and catch up your 10 day fund as most of us are working late during this week.

Bob when you have time try to make sure to at least show Tom a few things and maybe have him take some notes.

Thanks


Ok, a little commentary: I'd rather not check in before leaving just so you can give me some busy work. In fact, that's the whole reason I didn't check in before I left.

-I'd love to sit and learn a new fund, but Bob's been responsible for training me since day one and I STILL DON'T KNOW ANYTHING. He may be your go-to guy during month-end, but he doesn't have the ability to teach anyone anything.

-I'm not going to work on my Day 10 fund when my Day 5 funds aren't done yet. That's stupid. By the way, thanks for all the help on my Day 5 funds.

-How is Bob supposed to have time to show me anything if you've all got so much of your own work that you have to stay late all week?

-Your managerial skills suck.

He left a barely comprehensible post-it note on my monitor too: "Please look into these september trades + also rollforward your mkt rec, I don't see it so Im not sure how pricing + pos.can be done"

What? And, just so you know, the reason the "mktrec" hasn't been rolled forward is because I don't know what the hell that is! IT WOULD BE NICE IF SOMEBODY WOULD TRAIN ME TO DO THE JOB I WAS HIRED FOR, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!

AUGH
-tgme

Frustratinger and frustratinger

wtf. They're back there throwing paper airplanes around. I think Iposted about this when I was still in my old job. This is not professional.

I like most of the people here who I don't work with directly. I hate most of the people here I do work with directly. One them is the lazy insolent guy. He is currently throwing airplanes at other people. He's also the guy that sprayed somebody in the face with an inverted can of compressed air (the kind that reads "DO NOT tilt, shake, or turn can upside down before or during use as liquid contents may be dispersed. Liquid contents may cause frostbite on contact with skin.)

That's not cool.

Unprofessional, possibly actionable behaviour in the office by coworkers, combined with unprofessional inaction outside the office by clients is driving me mad.


Last week I sat for eight hours waiting for an email from the client who simply refused to correspond with me via email. He sent a number of reports to my manager, and to the insolent guy, replied to their questions, but sent nothing to me, and replied to none of my questions. Not surprisingly, the information I had requested was necessary to complete the report he had asked me for. I grew so frustrated I came very close to ripping the monitor off my computer and hurling it across the office. Last week, however, I also learned my lazy manager is leaving at the end of November, so maybe I should stick it out a couple of months, see if the situation improves.

Who knows. In unrelated news my new iPod is nice. I've watched the Ok, Go treadmill video on it about a billion times since downloading it.

-t

Thundercats, Silverhawks, and Skeletor, oh my!

I've been killing some time today reading up on some of my ill-remembered childhood favorites, He-Man, Thundercats, and Silverhawks. (Unlike the many accurately remembered childhood favorites like G.I. Joe, Gem, Darkwing Duck, Bananaman, Danger Mouse, You Can't Do That On Television, and Count Duckula.)

He-Man:

Growing up I had a He-Man action figure and his big green tiger. I'm pretty sure I was still so young that losing all of the accessories (He-Man's sword) wasn't a big deal to me, as long as I kept a handle on the saddle and faceplate for the cat. The saddle never stayed on.

My cousin, though, had the entire collection. Skeletor, the Castle Greyskull playset, the guy with the gears in his chest, and the telescoping neck, the guy with the arms and the mustache, other guys... everything. I'd go over sometimes and play with the castle and Skeletor, because they were both the coolest. Also, I remember thinking the castle belonged to Skeletor, because, hello, he's a skeleton and the castle is shaped like a giant skull. It looks like an evil castle. (this is actually what sparked the wikipedia research. I've always thought Greyskull was Skeletor's but apparently I was incorrect. Or maybe not...


Silverhawks:

This is one of the few cartoons I remember and no one else does. This is also one of the few cartoons I remember being totally cool when, in fact, upon reviewing it totally was not. Seriously the lamest theme song ever "Wings of silver, nerves of steel (Silverhawks)/ Partly metal, partly real (Silverhawks)" Lame, lame, lame lame lame. (And the battle cry was "Tallyhaaawwwwk!" Honestly.) But that's ok, I thought it was great as a kid, and what kid doesn't make mistakes of that nature? No kid. Unless you're a zombie. (Or possibly Martha Stewart - I imagine she spent one summer of her childhood lost, away from home, accidently locked in a dark basement of a summer cottage with no windows, rats for friends, and nothing but pinecones, four-inch ribbon, and craft glue to keep her company for the three months before they found her.)

But, the folks that brought us Silverhawks only did so because they enjoyed such success with their earlier release:


Thundercats:

Reading up on wikipedia you'll find some interesting trivia. While none of the Silverhawks or Thundercat lore/history/metadata is as prolific as He-Man's, there are still some entertaining questions to ... entertain.

For example: Did Cheetara favor Tygra or Lion-O? (Ignoring the fact that a comic series published after the cartoon ended has her winding up with Panthro)...

For me I've got to say Lion-O, because I'm pretty sure (and have been since I was four, though I probably couldn't have verbalized it until much later) that Tygra is totally, totally gay.

Look at him! Skin-tight leotard cut to capri length, the 'y' instead of an 'i' in his name, he's the "intelligent" one. Right.

On the other hand, I don't think she'd really prefer Lion-O, he looks like a perverted Bozo the Clown (and that guy already looked perverse).

Multi-cultural too (in a stereotypical kind of way): Panthro, the strong black mechanic who never finished high school; Tygra, the ..."intellectual" who lords his ivy-league education over everyone every chance he gets; Cheetara, the sexy Latina seductress who never contributes; Snarf, the white-trash, slow, hillbilly uncle; and the twins, Wilykat and Wilykit, average teenagers, probably hooked on video games and methamphetamines.

The bad guys though. Damn. They kicked ass. An ancient mummy channelling the spirits of the four great evils? Kick-ass! And he couldn't be killed! The worst you could do was drive him back to his sarcophagus. And Omens help you if Mum-Ra ever turned into one of his more powerful forms (Mum-Ra the Ever-Living, the All-Powerful, or the Master of Dreams). Scary stuff.

Skeletor had a floating head for a skull! Awesome! Though he did remind me a bit too much of the inept Cobra Commander from the Hasbro side of the aisle. Still. If you can get past the purple loin-cloth to see the floating skull, that's something.

-t

recommended download:
Theme - Silverhawks
Relient K, I'm Lion-O

Weekend, weak start

I'm tying out positions and prices this morning (the one thing I know how to do), this afternoon I'm going to move back to cash. I'll let you know how it works out.

Turns out the iPod shuffle isn't available until October 31st. I have use for a portable mp3 player before then, so I've taken steps to get one. Namely: I bought a 30GB black video iPod.

Also, I went to the dentist last week and got an electric toothbrush. Woo. And no cavities! (Even with all the free Coke I'm drinking at work!)

And this weekend I went golfing! In the rain. It was ok, we got nine holes in, we had a ton of food afterward, and I won a bottle of wine in the raffle!

It rained a lot, though. I'm still drying out (from the wine)(I mean the rain).

So, music is back in my life. And so is the written word. I'm concurrently reading Bill Simmons "Now I Can Die In Peace," Richard Dawkins "The God Delusion," and finishing up Orson Scott Card "The Worthing Saga."

That's just a quick update. While I'm out at lunch I'm going to try to think up a great topic for a post, like zombies.

-t

recommended download:
Red Hot Chili Peppers, Tell Me, Baby
Theme - The Mysterious Cities of Gold
Lucky Boys Confusion, 50 of my Closest Friends and a Keg of Killian's

No, not a rocketship, a Roman candle

It's three o'clock. I'm trying to tie out the nightmare fund. I'd emailed our client and asked for their trade file for the month to double check it against ours. That was at noon.

At two o'clock he emailed the trade file to my manager, who forwarded it to me. It was for the wrong fund. I emailed him back asking for the correct fund. I'm still waiting.

This is the third email I've sent to the client directly that hasn't gotten a response. I'm starting to suspect that he has blocked all emails from my address. If that is the case it will be very difficult to work with him.

Communication, after all, is key to a successful relationship.

In other news I've been assigned a new fund. This brings my total up to three: The nightmare fund, which has never tied out; The easy fund, which sort of ties out sometimes, because I inherited a variance of $152.67, so to tie out I need to make my number exactly that much lower than the client's; and this new fund, which I was assigned on Monday, and have yet to receive any training on.

For those of you keeping track, that is
# of funds responsible for = 3
# of funds trained to process = 0

I am on a rocketship ride up the corporate ladder.
-t

Material Concerns

Three days before I flew out to Los Angeles I dropped my iPod.

I had picked up my laptop, not realizing I had left the iPod sitting on top of it (the untold hazards of owning everything in "macintosh white"), and it crash jarringly to the floor.

It still worked, though. It was skipping over a few songs, but that's to be expected, the fall happened from five feet off the ground, how could the hard drive not be a little scratched up?

But I've had it for two years, and I hear most of these things die the week after the warranty's up, so I figured I was doing better than average.

I took it on the flight to L.A. without incident and forgot all about the drop because I was distracted by the incredibly loud whining of the jet engines. I resolved on the spot to purchase noise-cancelling headphones before my next flight.

When I got back home, a week later, I started thinking about the drop again. Thinking that the drop was probably the reason my iPod now refused to turn on. And boy does that suck.

I can't explain why it worked for six days to and from Los Angeles, why it chose to sound its death rattle the night I returned, but I'm just as happy to chalk it up to the drop. It's no longer important.

What's important now, is that I am without music on my morning commute. I figured I'd better get a pretty good book to read.

Luckily, I had one (The Worthing Saga, Orson Scott Card, I'd recommend it if you're a sci-fi fan). It's been doing remarkably well in distracting me from the train, fellow passengers, and the impending eight hours in the office. So well, in fact, that I nearly missed my stop, twice, this week.

Which brings me to the point of the entry: Moderation.

I had resolved to purchase noise cancelling headphones, and am compelled to purchase a new iPod.

So I decided to go all out. Bose Quietcomfort headphones for $300, a brand new 30GB iPod for $250, brand new, retail prices all around.

(are any of you bored yet? I don't have anywhere to go with this entry, go right ahead and skip to the end)

Thankfully, before I made either of those purchases I came to my senses.

I found a set of Sony headphones that retail for $150, and I found them even cheaper than that on ebay. Then I bought a brand new 1GB iPod shuffle, to save some money over the full size model.

Now I'm just waiting for everything to be shipped out. Hopefully I won't finish my book before then.

I'm only posting because I'm bored almost to tears at work. Congratulations if you made it this far.

-t

recommended downloads:
Lucky Boys Confusion, Broken, and Medicine and Gasoline

-- --- .-. ... . -.-. --- -.. .

I've decided to learn Morse Code. It will probably be useful if I'm ever stranded on an island somewhere like Tom Hanks in Castaway, or Brian in Hatchet... wait - learning to build a fire or catch my own food would probably be more useful in those situations.

Morse Code would be useful if I were Jack Ryan aboard the U.S.S. Dallas trying to communicate with the commander of a Russian nuclear submarine who wished to defect. And that could totally happen.

The trick to learning Morse Code, as originally described in the book Cheaper By The Dozen (great book, btw, totally hilarious), is to assign each Morse letter an English word wherein the stressed sylables in the word correspond a "dash" in Morse Code, and the unstressed sylables correspond to the "dots."

For example, the letter 'A' is represented with a "dot-dash" [ . -], and assigned the word "about" [a-BOUT]

Other nice examples are:

D [ - . . ] DAN-ger-ous
I [ . . ] aye-aye (ok, that doesn't really start with an 'i', tough)
O [ - - - ] OH-MY-GOD! (more than one word is ok)

Anyway. I've written out the Morse alphabet and tacked it up next to my computer. Now all I need is a telegraph machine to practice with.

-.-. .- ... -.-. .- -.. .. -. --. .-.. -.-- -.-- --- ..- .-. ... --..--
- --- --

(Cascadingly yours,
Tom)

Once I get this down I'm going to move on to Braille.

Reason for Chat

One of the reasons I couldn't survive a workday without instant messaging:

Samantha: okay, i just read this sentence:
"In mid-October 2002, a nuclear analyst named Simon Dodge in the State Department's intelligence division was forwarded copies of documents purporting to outline a recent sale of 500 tons of yellowcake uranium—which can be enriched for use in nuclear weapons—from the impoverished African nation of Niger to Iraq."
and all i thought was "mmm.....yellow cake"

Ghost of a Blogger

I apologize for being incomunicado today. Google crashed.

Well, not exactly. I opened my internet explorer this morning, as I would any other morning, and tried to get in to gmail, so I could chat.

After a lengthly load time a "file not found" error came up. Had gmail been ... (dun, dun, dun) blocked?

My very next thought was to go immediately to blogger and rant and rave about being cut off from the instant messaging community. (Which is, after all, the thing that keeps me most sane during these trying hours among the workforce.)

But I couldn't! Blogger was also missing! I was furious!

How dare they take not only gmail, and with it my instant messaging abilities, but also blogger! I couldn't even rant to my faithful(ly bored) audience about the injustice of it all! Quick! Distract yourself with the blog updates in your RSS reader!

FILE NOT FOUND! I was cut off!!

Forced to sit and navigate blogs the old-fashioned way, remembering URLs and clicking hyperlinks! A wandering spirit floating on the peripheral of blogingdom, only able to read posts, and not participate by writing any, barely able to let my presence be known by commenting. . .

I CAN'T COMMENT EITHER?!


No, ladies and gentlemen, any and all google applications, sites, servers, etc, that required a Google account and password were gone! Struck from the web as if they'd never existed!

Nothingness

But, as you can plainly see, I'm back. Rumor has it there was some stickiness between our pal Google, that monster of the interweb, and Comcast, that local tste fly of the ISPs, which had caused the blackout.

But it's fixed. So I'm back. I hope none of you worried. Thirty-six hours without a post is a bit unlike me, but everything's k.o. now.

-t

Contact

It's going on three days with no contact from my manager. This would be ok if things were going well. But things aren't going well, and he knows it, and yet, he doesn't even check in.

He stops by Eddy's desk everyday. Eddy and I sit back-to-back across the aisle. All my lazy manager would have to do is simply turn around. But he doesn't.

Oh, here he comes!... He walked right by. He's talking to Pete about the football pool. "Where am I supposed to send the check?"

I don't get it! Is there a theory that explains his actions? Why doesn't he check in?

1. Too busy - Clearly not, if he has time to check in with Eddy and to chat about football.

2. I'm wearing an ugly shirt and he can't bear to look at me - Nope. First, my shirt isn't ugly, and second, even if it were he could send me an email. Which would take less time, and he wouldn't even have to get up!

3. He hates me - Come on. Seriously? I'm a likeable guy. That's not it.

4. ?

Any theories, readers?
-t

Update: I've just received an email from my manager. This is the first contact in twenty-seven hours. (an email Wednesday at 10AM, nothing Thursday, Friday, Monday until an email at 3 PM)

It reads:

Tom,

Bob and Michael are meeting at my desk at 4 to discuss some fund changes. Can you swing by my desk at 4pm today so we can all go over everything? It should only take a minute or 2

Thanks
Lazy Manager

FYI: Bob is the lazy insolent guy in my group, and I've never heard of Michael before. This should be an interesting two minute meeting.

Don't buy the $5 Ipod

I've been looking on ebay for a new Ipod (iPod?), and last night I found a brand new 1GB Ipod Nano Buy It Now for $5.00!

And I thought to myself, "This has got to be a scam."

On the other hand, what if it's not a scam? What if there is some poor foreign ebay seller who would gladly part for an mp3 player in exchange for five of the Mighty U.S. Dollars? (Right, because exchange rates are so favoring the dollar right now.) Or maybe some moron typed in $5.00 instead of $50.00, or maybe this is part of a shipment that fell off a truck. Or maybe it's a clever front for funding terrorist operations.

But, at five bucks, can I afford to not take the shot at a brand new iPod for 96% off? It's only five bucks!


Well, turns out, it is a scam. I received this email today:

Gentile Thomas,

questo è un avviso del team Regolamento e Sicurezza di eBay relativo a:

numero oggetto - 260034868881

titolo dell'oggetto - IPOD NANO 1GB

Dalle informazioni in nostro possesso risulta che hai fatto offerte o ti sei aggiudicato l’oggetto messo in vendita nell’inserzione sopra indicata. Ti informiamo che abbiamo recentemente chiuso tutte le inserzioni di questo venditore e limitato la sua capacità di utilizzare i servizi di eBay. Per motivi di privacy, non possiamo fornire ulteriori informazioni.

Se ricevi un’email in cui qualcuno sostiene di essere il venditore e ti chiede di concludere la transazione al di fuori di eBay, ti consigliamo vivamente di ignorare la richiesta perché ti esporresti al rischio di frodi e non saresti coperto dal Programma di protezione acquirenti di eBay.

Se non hai ancora inviato il pagamento al venditore, ti raccomandiamo di non concludere la transazione.

Se hai già pagato e vuoi provare a recuperare l'importo, ti consigliamo di:

- chiedere il rimborso al venditore;
- se hai pagato con assegno, chiedere alla tua banca di sospendere il pagamento;
- se hai pagato con carta di credito, contattare il reparto di sicurezza della banca che l'ha emessa e chiedere di bloccare il pagamento;
- se hai effettuato il pagamento tramite vaglia o bonifico bancario, contattare al più presto la banca e chiedere di annullarlo;
- se hai effettuato il pagamento con un servizio trasferimento fondi come Western Union o Moneygram, contattare la società che ha effettuato il servizio;
- se hai pagato con PayPal, presentare un reclamo dalla pagina:

https://www.paypal.com/it/bcp

- se hai pagato con un metodo di pagamento accettato da eBay, presentare un reclamo al Programma di protezione degli acquirenti di eBay dalla pagina

http://pages.ebay.it/help/confidence/items-fraud.html

Nello Spazio Sicurezza di eBay puoi trovare diversi suggerimenti su come effettuare transazioni in modo sicuro:

/csg/p?sicurezza.ebay.it/index.html

Se avessi bisogno di ulteriori chiarimenti, ti invitiamo a contattarci rispondendo direttamente a quest’email.

Cordiali saluti,

Assistenza clienti (Regolamento e Sicurezza)
eBay Inc

for those readers who don't speak Italian, this is what Google Translator gave me:

Kind Thomas,

this is an warning of the team Regulations and Emergency of eBay relative to:

number object - 260034868881
tito it of object - IPOD DWARF 1GB

From the information in our possession she turns out that you have made offered or you six adjudicated the object put in sale in the indicated insertion over. We inform to you that recently we have closed all the insertions of this vendor and limited its ability to use the services of eBay. For reasons of privacy, we cannot supply ulterior information.

If you receive an email in which someone it supports of being the vendor and it asks you to conclude the transaction to outside of eBay, we lively advise you to ignore the demand because you would expose yourself to the risk of swindles and you would not be covered from the Program of protection purchasers of eBay.

If you have not still sended the payment to the vendor, we recommend you not to conclude the transaction.

If you have already paid and you want to try to recover the amount, we advise you of:
- to ask the reimbursement the vendor;
- if you have paid with check, to ask your bank suspend payment;
- if you have paid with credit card, to contact the unit of emergency of the bank that has emitted it and to ask to block the payment;
- if you have carried out the payment through money order or banking discount, to contact to the more soon bank and to ask to cancel it;
- if you have carried out the payment with a service transfer deep like Western Union or Moneygram, to contact the society that has carried out the service;
- if you have paid with PayPal, to introduce a claim from the page: https://www.paypal.com/it/bcp
- if you have paid with a form of payment accepted from eBay, to introduce a claim to the Program of protection of the purchasers of eBay from the page http://pages.ebay.it/help/confidence/items-fraud.html

In Spazio Emergency of eBay you can find various suggestions on like carrying out transactions in sure way: /csg/p? sicurezza.ebay.it/index.html

If you had need of ulterior clarifications, we invite to you to contact itself answering directly to this email.

Sincerely yours,

Attendance customers (Regulations and Emergency)
eBay Inc.

But it was worth the shot, right?
-t

"Tom Brady sucks"

That is care of Curtis, a Philadelphia Eagles fan. That's how I started my day, ten minutes ago. Curtis sits in the first desk. I walked through the door to my office, right into the middle of a football discussion. Curtis and four Patriots fans. "Tom Brady sucks, he's just an awful, awful quarterback."

If there were ever a day I wanted my iPod, it would be today. Or any other day before noon.

I walked all the way over to my desk, Curtis still within hearing range, and as I sat down I hear "So, both our teams suck, huh?" from the other side of the cubicle. That's coming from Martin, our resident Buffalo Bills fan.

I don't hate football. Mostly, though, I hate talking about football, this "Monday morning quarterbacking." Hate it.

Football doesn't have the elegance of baseball, doesn't have the strategic nuances. And, as much as I appreciate and enjoy talking about baseball, I hate doing that on Monday mornings too.

I should have my own office, so I come in, and shut my door, and work in isolation in the morning. This cubeville location doesn't work for me. I'm too close to other people.

-t

Nightmare of nightmares

Ok, third post today, woo! Be sure to read the other two. They're so good they've got comments! Both of them!

Back to the nightmare:

(Skip the section in brackets if you are either (a) familiar with the history of my nightmare fund, or (b) if you are Adina.)


[We got a new fund. My Senior Manager said he'd handle everything and train people. He didn't, then he quit.

I, somehow, got stuck with the fund. Me, the guy who doesn't know how to do anything (true. not hyperbole, actual truth.) My lazy manager did not review/check-in/email me to help train/note my (lack of) progress/as a resource.

Not knowing how to do anything, I did nothing.

Initial report deadline sailed past.

Lazy manager then came over and took the fund off my desk. It is a big ugly umbrella fund. He left me a small piece of it.

Lazy manager moaned and groaned and finished the reporting two weeks late. I'm glad someone knows how to do it, even late.]

The lazy manager sent two copies of the reporting yesterday, one to the legal team to be reviewed, and one to the client. Please note he CCed me on none of the emails.

He took today (Thursday) and tomorrow (Friday) off.

This morning I got this series of email:

From: Legaldept@Tomscompany.com
To: Client

Good afternoon,

Please approve the attached the Fund for August 2006 Monthly statements. Once approved I will forward to the investors. Thank you very much.

-Legal team representative

---

From:Client
To:Legal team

Hi Legal team rep,

The year-to-date returns on all of the statements do not match the linked returns spreadsheet that your Manager prepared. Can you please confirm that you have the correct information? Otherwise the statements appear correct and in order.

Thank you,

-Client

---

From:Legal
To:LazyManager

Hi Manager,

Please confirm the YTD returns. The YTD returns on the file you sent to us match the statements. Did you send the client different numbers? Please confirm. Thanks.

-Legal

---

...

---

From:Legal
To:Tom (me) and Vice President of the Division

Hi VP or Tom,

Please look into this issue. Your Lazy Manager is apparently not in the office. We have checked the year to date returns based on the file he provided to Legal. The client has different figures (see email thread).

Thanks
-Legal



WTF?!

My Lazy-ass Manager not only takes the fund after the deadline has passed, fails to include me, the primary (albeit unwitting) contact on the fund, but sends different figures to the client and legal, AND THEN SKIPS OUT FOR A FOUR DAY WEEKEND.

Leaving me, and the VICE-FUCKING-PRESIDENT holding the bag.

So who's fault is it when I can't answer any questions the VP has? Is it my fault for NEVER GETTING TRAINED TO DO THE JOB THEY HIRED ME FOR!? IS IT?


GARARHGH!
-t

Blogging, from the Hub of the universe

I just signed up for the first annual(?) extremely cool(?) Boston Bloggers Convetion, or, Boston Bloggers Conference, alternately, Blogtoberfest, or, perhaps, BLOG!, or BBC, or whatever.

So, any of you other Boston bloggers who didn't get an invite, consider this yours.




The real reason I'm writing, however, is the fault of upcoming.com. Jenny, who was forced into coordinating this thing, set up a registration function over at upcoming, which you need to sign up for in order to use.

No big deal, it took ten seconds.

I'm writing because this is the email I got in response:



You see who it's from? ROBOT. How cool is that!? They have robots that email now! I feel like dancing.

I wish it had occurred to me to use "robot" as my gmail username. Who doesn't love robots?

-t

ps: bonus points to anyone who reflexively broke into the chorus of Leo Sayer's I Feel Like Dancing the second they read that line.

Stretching a dollar

Help. What happens when you simply have to buy a set of Bose Quiet Comfort 2 Noise Cancelling headphones in order to prevent aural damage due to frequent air travel for approximately $*299.99 (on ebay for about $250? I hope?), the brand new Nintendo Wii Revolution, with a release date of November 18, 2006, for approximately $250.00, and a brand new 30GB iPod from Apple.com for about $250.00, because my two-year old 20GB iPod just died an awful agonizing critical death, which I don't want to talk about anymore, thank you...

and you only have $250.00 to spend?


No, I'm serious. That's not a rhetorical question. Any idea where I can find Bose headphones for below retail? A deal on the Revolution? An iPod that works?

Oh, also, I need to spend at least a little of that $250.00 in order to eat.

I can stretch money, if I've got some lying around, but 250 into 800 might be beyond my capacity.

Also, is there anyone out there good enough to convince me that spending a month's rent on frivolities is not the way to go? I probably need that talk right about now. Because I've got a couple Bose auctions that are about to end...

-t

* all currency, John this is for your benefit, is in USD. (post script - I added the asterisk in order to use an anchor tag, which I just learned to do. bam.)

West Coast Players

I am back. I have returned from the mighty Pacific. I have returned poorer, but wiser, richer in knowledge, and humbler in spirit. I had seen one ocean, and been called alive, now I have seen two oceans, and truly am.

I took four pictures with my phone camera, and one video. When I learn how to post those to blogger I will submit a photo/video essay here. In the meantime, I'd like to tell you what I've been up to this past week:

Day One, Tuesday last, 5:15 PM
My lazy manager boss asked me to postpone my vacation in order to stay and help out with the monthly reporting. His words: "So...are you, going anywhere, tomorrow?"

Day Two, 5:30 AM
I wake up, quickly throw some clothes in a suitcase and ride to the airport for my flight. I arrive ridiculously early, luckily, Dunkin' Donuts is open.

My flight from Boston to Los Angeles is long, but uneventful. I am squeezed into the smallest coach seat I have ever paid for. The inflight movie is some crappy Lindsay Lohan movie about luck. I read Neil Gaiman's American Gods for the duration of the flight.

I arrive in Los Angeles ten minutes prior to Donny. I call Raymond, who we are visiting, and Donny. I retreive my suitcase from baggage claim, Raymond retreives Donaldo and myself.

We stop at In & Out burger. I had a double-double something with fries. It was pretty good.

We make a quick stop to check out Ray's gun collection. I learn how to clear a revolver. Donny takes photos. Then we drive to Vegas.

We arrive in Vegas, check in to our hotel (the MGM), and then wander The Strip. I lose some money on video poker and slots. I spend at least half an hour at the Star Wars slot machine. I could play that all week.

Day Two/Day Three
Assorted gambling (slots, video poker, three card poker, craps), drinking (Jack & Coke, bloody mary, margaritas, banana flavored drinks, beer), and eating (three buffets, crepes, nachos, burgers). The days blend together. There is no day or night. Donny wins big on Wheel of Fortune slots, and pays for the buffet.

Day Three, 2 PM
We leave Vegas. On the road Ray and I play Simpsons Trivia. Ray wins. Donny sleeps. We call Cory, and Donny and I plan to meet up with him that night.

Cory meets us at Ray's apartment. We drive to Malibu and have dinner. The Pacific Ocean is gorgeous. The food is also quite good.

We drive to Cory's apartment, Ray meets us there. We play spades, and watch Super Troopers until the wee hours of the morning. We resolve to go to a Dodgers game.

Day Four 11 AM
Ray drives to El Taurino and we eat burritos. They are spicy and delicious.

We meet Cory and drive to the Getty Museum. We listen to the architectural tour explain that the dimensions and proportions used in the design are either "30, a multiple of 30, or a part of 30."

The three of us with math degress remark that any number less than 30 is "part of 30," and that 30 just happens to have possibly the widest array of convinient factors (including 1,2,3,5, and 6).

We eat Korean barbecue. Ray shows us the ropes. The food is delicious.

We go to the Dodgers game. I try, in vain, to purchase a Dodgers cap as a souvenir. The Dodgers give up three runs in the first, eight runs in the third, and lose the game 11-2, and first place in the NL West, to the Padres.

Day Five 10:30 AM
Donny and I hang out at Cory's apartment. We visit a farmer's market, eat some really great Mexican food at a local resturant, and watch football.

Donny gets a haircut.

Later, Ray picks us up and we head to Santa Monica.

We walk down the Santa Monica pier and out onto the beach. I stand in the Pacific Ocean. The West Coast is incredible, and spectacular. We enjoy the beach.

We walk up off the beach to find dinner. We also find an elderly Mexican man performing "Achy-breaky Heart" in monotone with a Casio beat under it. He also dances. Donny records a short video.

Ray and Donny try vibrating chairs at Brookstone. Then we eat dinner. The old man changes songs, now he is singing "Guantanamero." Ray asks the waitress where she is from, she says "Brazil." Donny asks if the Mexican street performer appears often. The Brazilian waitress beleagurdly says "every Saturday and Sunday." Donny giggles uncontrolably when the man switches back to "Achy-breaky Heart."

We return to Ray's apartment and watch The Simpsons and Anchorman. We retire.

Day Six, 10 AM
We wake, shower, and head to the airport. We say our goodbyes and enter our respective terminals. Ray drives departs, and so do we.

I arrive in Boston at 9:30 PM, my sister picks me up at the airport. I get home, reheat some Chinese food, realize I'm exhausted, and try to sleep.

I watch Garden State, then lie awake until 3:30 AM.

Day Seven, today, 7:45 AM
I wake up, tired. I shower, get dressed, go to work.

I delete a week's worth of email. I stare at my computer.

The lazy manager tells me to have cash tied out by Friday. I think that will be relatively easy, so I go out for coffee, and write a blog post.

-t

You know how you watch something as a kid and love it, then rewatch it later and it's like, a little stupid? No way is the cartoon as bad as the movie

Ok, if you do get bored... Any thoughts on the destruction of favorite childhood icons in the popular media of today?

as stated in this review of the leaked Transformers script?

"YES." he replied emphatically

"Are you going anywhere tomorrow?" my manager asked me just a few minutes ago.

He asked because he wants me to cancel my vacation time and work on this fund. This nightmare of a fund.

So this post is going to serve two purposes.
(1) To inform you, the reader, that I am heading out tomorrow AM to sunny California. I will return Tuesday, please don't expect any posts until then.

and
(2) To inform you, the reader, that under no circumstances would I have replied "No" to my managers question, knowing, as I did, what his motivation for asking was. Yes, I'm going somewhere tomorrow. I'm going Away. And not just any Away, either, I'm going to the furthest possible Away that's still within the borders of the continental united states. Los Angeles.

There is no way I want to work on this fund. I was not hired to figure this stuff out. I was hired learn this stuff. That has still not happened. In the meantime I will not give up scheduled vacation time in order to be miserable.

I care too much about getting things right, about correctness. I find that when things aren't correct, or when I am not giving 100% I get a little stressed. The stress tends to get locked up in my back and neck muscles. It's unpleasant.

Therefore, I resolve to find a new job where I can give 100%. I think I will start by posting a brand new resume on monster.com. Instead of "fund accountant, two years experience" I think I'll go with "voice talent, boston area" and see what happens.

Incidentally, do any of you have any poetry you would like me to recite at a public gathering? Wedding, wake, birthday party?

For a small fee, of course.
-tgme

P.S. Sorry, I got a little distracted in the middle of writing this post. It's incoherent, I know. If you find yourselves devoid of content this week, anticipating my return, you could try your hand at editing, or just send me a friendly email with some tips on straightening this post out.

Speaking of straightening out, I really would like to go into greater length describing the causes, symptoms, and remedies to this stress I carry, but think that that should be a whole post.

So, yes, I'm going somewhere tomorrow. I wish I were staying there.
-t

The sky is NOT falling (apparently)

Howdy. How ya'll doin'? All worried about me losing my job because I've done abso-nothing-lutely lately? I was too.

The amount of work I actually did on a daily basis remained at a steady, flat, zero (0) for three-and-a-half weeks, consecutively.

I'm not kidding. On three of those days (last Thursday, Friday, Tuesday) the most amount of work I did was turn on my monitor. That's it. I didn't even use a password to sign in to any applications. I didn't receive any emails. Nothing.

On most of the other days I peaked at "open microsoft excel, just in case."

And, as I believe most of you are aware, I was feeling a growing dread.

In light of the copious amount of work I hadn't been doing, and the impending Day Five deadline, I felt sure the figurative ceiling would collapse in on me, burying me along with many useless reports in the ancient temple ruins like a tragic, yet heroic, adventurer and so many poisonous snakes.

I feared the repercussions of my inactivity. And here we are, on Day Five, and there are none.

NONE. I don't understand. This is no way to run a business, I can tell you that. Why even bother with deadlines (which, btw, are mandated and overseen by the federal government), if you're not going to adhere to them?

The reports are going to be late, and I haven't detected one bit of consternation related to that fact around here. Not me, not my manager, not the VP, nobody. I've been sitting here not knowing how to do anything for weeks with four hours left to do over a month's work and my manager came by and said, casually, with no inflection, "Well, these reports will be late."

AUGH!! THE CEILING! IT'S COMING DOWN!...Look ou-... No?

No.

So what's the call? Greatest level of frustration and disappointment in recent memory?


Or greatest job ever?
-t

Has anybody heard from John?

(alt. title: "gmail is great")

me: dude
what's the story?
John: hey there
whats up
story?
no story
per se
me: how is work
John: just been crazy insane busy
me: how is daniel
John: work = good
me: how is daniel's family
John: daniel = surprising good
fam = awesome
car = bought
me: how is speaking spanish all the time
John: meh
classes every day from 9-11
then work 11-4
then other work 4-8
me: nice and busy
John: then apartment moving junk 8-10
then sleep
me: how is the local cuisine?
John: yummy
though i might have cholera from the water
me: right
John: yes
me: how are the bugs
John: bugs?
me: I imagine there are lots of disease carrying bugs
John: oh
me: mosquitoes among them
John: i guess so
meh
were in the tropics
but in the mountains
so in addition to banana trees
there are also pines
the weather is cool
and nice
so not a lot of jungle bugs
me: ok, so no bugs, just mountain goats,
llamas,
and mountain lions
John: um
me: and boa constrictors
John: its a city of 3 million i think
so...
me: and drug lords
John: YES
DRUG LORDS
me: how are the drugs
John: in masarattis
me: sweet
John: masarati?
anyway
yes
pretty car
John: ok, gotta go


-t

Reeding Highlights

from Dave's Long Box

"As I draw this post to a patronizing finish, I would encourage everyone to maintain a degree of perspective and civility. The anonymity of the Internet makes the need for civil discourse even greater. Do you really need to get in a flame war with some 13-year old who thinks Mike Mignola sucks? Because that kid’s an idiot, fuck that kid."

from Neil Gaiman

"I find I'm suddenly unsure whether or not that means exactly what I'm certain it does mean, so I google "personal lubricants" and yes, it's talking about exactly what I think it's talking about. Up to 4 oz. of personal lubricants are just fine.... practically the only liquid you can take with you onto a plane.

"

from Flixens

"Think of it as having a children, and one of them is just better than all the rest. Instantly talented at anything he or she puts their mind to, and will easily be more successful than your other children, who range from occasionally inspired, to the ones that bump their head on the side of the breakfast table every morning.

The [1973 original] Wicker Man is that superior child...

So, might I be a little bit biased, when watching a remake of The Wicker Man? Turns out, no. The film is plenty bad on it's own merit, without me being prejudice..."

-t

There aren't any stations.

Today, just now, I discovered the mental link between the phrase "train of thought" and "jump the tracks" and since have been mildly amused at the thought of a brain train jumping the thought tracks.

I am further amused by the inevitable trainwreck of and idea such an incident would cause. Or possibly brainwreck.

So, now, whenever I find myself thinking about myself thinking... about... - I now picture a cartoonish train bouncing merrily along a track, as it swivels its headlamp around looking about for, and finding, a different and interesting looking track nearby, then hopping over to that one to continue bouncing down whatever railway lines have been laid in this brain of mine.

Also, the hopping train is accompanied by the Peter Cottontail song.

"Here comes Peter Cottontail
Hopping down the bunny trail
Hippity-hoppity Easter's on its way!"

-t "there are no stops on this train of thought" e

Business Strategy

Not knowing how I'm supposed to do the work I'm supposed to do (or, really, what work it is I'm supposed to do), I feel obligated to look busy, rather than take an eight-hour nap at my desk.

In order to do so I continually browse through the company server, opening folders and files at random. When I find something that I think looks interesting, I print it out.

I think a person who is jumping up from their desk to grab stuff off the printer all day must be working pretty hard - don't you?

-t