Friday, October 01, 2004
Thursday Night Line Up
Pilates was last night and it was good. I could feel tired muscles all last night, and going up the stairs to work today actually felt like work. I was a little worried about this course because on the first night most of the people there were sixty or over. It didn't bode well for the strenuousness of the workout. Still, last night, we just gave 'er.
This week at work has been a busy one, but there was still time for a little bit of humiliation to remind why I need to keep looking for another job. My boss asks me to wait for a second:
"Yeeeaaaahhhhh, I have this thing about bellies? Whenever I see my daughters' I always slap or tickle them. And I really have a thing about belly-button rings. So, could we just agree on a "no-bellies" policy? Okay, that's great, thanks Lynx!"
All she needed to do was ask my why I forgot to fill out my TPS report and it would have been perfect. "That'd be greeeaaaattttt, thanks." Ugh. Die.
We've had a fly problem in the office. There are huge, black, sluggish flies all over the window above the boardroom, and periodically one of the flies will shamble over to someone's office for a little lie down. Because there are so many of them swatting is not a desirable mode of extermination. We're not talking three or four flies, we're not even talking twenty, it's more like Amityville. As such my job description took a new turn when English boss decided to delegate fumigation to me. Me and my trusty can of Raid waded into the storm and took care of the pestilence. I'm now either sterile or my offspring will be born without bones. You do what you have to for 28K a year. Administrative Assistant means more than just photocopying and answering phones, it's also about being a bit of a cowboy.
We weren't sure why all the flies were there. One of my coworkers cheerfully suggested that something must have died in the walls. It's probably just my spirit. They probably live in the insulation and whenever it's warm for more than a few days they spawn. It's almost poetic, really.
Anyway, I came home and watched TV with B for awhile. We were really looking forward to CSI and Without a Trace. CSI was a repeat, dammit, and Without a Trace was just lame. Jerry Bruckheimer, what happened? There was, however, plenty of mocking potential available in the commercials. Have you seen the new Lysol one that sells itself by being the spray that removes odour bacteria from the air? There's a happy housewife going around her immaculate home spraying the shit out of it with this revolutionary new spray, and thanking Lysol for finally providing the consumer marketplace with this new product. "Thanks for listening, Lysol." I can't be sure, but I think that they might have gotten to her.
B turns to me.
"Did you see that? Look at how much she was spraying in the baby's room!"
"Huh?"
"Jesus, what's the matter, didn't they have any Sarin?"
Oh man. Sometimes the things that come out of that woman's mouth. Whenever she's trying to give Rage his bottle and he won't sit still for it she always says, "now, come over here and drink your bottle like a Christian." This is going to be one sarcastic little boy.
Anyway, stay tuned campers 'cause next entry we're going to talk about the wedding I went to the other weekend. You won't want to miss that.
Pilates was last night and it was good. I could feel tired muscles all last night, and going up the stairs to work today actually felt like work. I was a little worried about this course because on the first night most of the people there were sixty or over. It didn't bode well for the strenuousness of the workout. Still, last night, we just gave 'er.
This week at work has been a busy one, but there was still time for a little bit of humiliation to remind why I need to keep looking for another job. My boss asks me to wait for a second:
"Yeeeaaaahhhhh, I have this thing about bellies? Whenever I see my daughters' I always slap or tickle them. And I really have a thing about belly-button rings. So, could we just agree on a "no-bellies" policy? Okay, that's great, thanks Lynx!"
All she needed to do was ask my why I forgot to fill out my TPS report and it would have been perfect. "That'd be greeeaaaattttt, thanks." Ugh. Die.
We've had a fly problem in the office. There are huge, black, sluggish flies all over the window above the boardroom, and periodically one of the flies will shamble over to someone's office for a little lie down. Because there are so many of them swatting is not a desirable mode of extermination. We're not talking three or four flies, we're not even talking twenty, it's more like Amityville. As such my job description took a new turn when English boss decided to delegate fumigation to me. Me and my trusty can of Raid waded into the storm and took care of the pestilence. I'm now either sterile or my offspring will be born without bones. You do what you have to for 28K a year. Administrative Assistant means more than just photocopying and answering phones, it's also about being a bit of a cowboy.
We weren't sure why all the flies were there. One of my coworkers cheerfully suggested that something must have died in the walls. It's probably just my spirit. They probably live in the insulation and whenever it's warm for more than a few days they spawn. It's almost poetic, really.
Anyway, I came home and watched TV with B for awhile. We were really looking forward to CSI and Without a Trace. CSI was a repeat, dammit, and Without a Trace was just lame. Jerry Bruckheimer, what happened? There was, however, plenty of mocking potential available in the commercials. Have you seen the new Lysol one that sells itself by being the spray that removes odour bacteria from the air? There's a happy housewife going around her immaculate home spraying the shit out of it with this revolutionary new spray, and thanking Lysol for finally providing the consumer marketplace with this new product. "Thanks for listening, Lysol." I can't be sure, but I think that they might have gotten to her.
B turns to me.
"Did you see that? Look at how much she was spraying in the baby's room!"
"Huh?"
"Jesus, what's the matter, didn't they have any Sarin?"
Oh man. Sometimes the things that come out of that woman's mouth. Whenever she's trying to give Rage his bottle and he won't sit still for it she always says, "now, come over here and drink your bottle like a Christian." This is going to be one sarcastic little boy.
Anyway, stay tuned campers 'cause next entry we're going to talk about the wedding I went to the other weekend. You won't want to miss that.
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