I have proof that KRAM and Elsie are in cahoots!

Good  evening.

I'm not  a superstitious girl.  Well, except when it comes to my Green Bay Packers jersey on game days...and then I am.  (Hey, they were very stinky until I put that on during the 2nd quarter yesterday...that's not a coincidence!)  Anyway, I'm not a superstitious person, and I'm not paranoid.  I believe I have proof...ACTUAL PROOF....that KRAM is forcing me to lose weight and he's using Elsie W to do it.

For those of you who don't recall...KRAM is the long suffering personal trainer I sometimes see when I sometimes to go Gold's Gym.  He's a lovely man, who recently became a papa.  (Which means he's going to find out that I wasn't slacking all along...once you have kids you lose all of your "me" time.)  Now, I haven't been to Gold's much in the last couple months.  But when I made my triumphant...and awkward...return last Tuesday, I realized that he'd been behind something that had bothered me for a week.

It's clear to me now that KRAM is having Elsie W eat my lunch to control my weight. 

Don't believe me?  Why should you?  Well, except that I don't make up stuff in this blog, that's why.

See, a couple weeks ago, I noted that things of mine were missing from the fridge.  It started with a new, unopened, bottle of coffee creamer.  I asked Elsie about it.  At first she said she never saw it.  Then she admitted she tossed it out, claiming it looked like sour milk.  (Her own ghastly collection of half eaten food and fruit fly laden salad dressing bottles, however, are still in the fridge.)

More recently, for reasons no one knows, Elsie forgot her lunch  (Though she keeps a grocery store in the fridge)  and just HAD TO HAVE A YOGURT.  She claims she thought she was eating NBM's yogurt, but in reality...it was mine.  It made up half my lunch.

Now I was perfectly willing to lay this at the foot of the greatest nitwit to live...Elsie...but then I went to the gym on Tuesday and chatted with KRAM for the first time in ages.  And I couldn't get away from one little thing.

The man had a twinkle in his eye.

Sure, he's a new pop.  Sure, he's happy to see me back in the gym.  Sure, he remembers I like Rick Springfield.

But then he said something that gave him away.

"You're looking slimmer."

To quote Valerie from "The Princess Bride;"

""LIAR!  LAIR!"

I do not look slimmer.  I certainly didn't that evening.  So now I know, without a doubt, the man is in cahoots with the human shark.  He's found the one person close enough to me and shameless enough to dispose of or eat my food. 

One part of me is annoyed.  I mean...come on...my coffee creamer?  That's sacred!

But the other part of me says, "Well played.   And when I sell enough copies of the book...I'm going to actually pay for a couple sessions with you!"

Meanwhile...I guess KRAM is just going to have to keep telling Elsie to eat my food.

BTW, Happy Birthday to my childhood hero, Randy Mantooth.  (And to my sis in law...we'll call her Jamie.)

Well, they're coming to take one of us away...that much I know!

Hello my friends!

As many of you know, I am a big fan of the Dr. Demento Show.  For those of you not in the know...this is a radio show full of goofy music and just all out funny stuff.  Granted, I haven't listened in a long time, but there was a time when I never missed it.  It was the way I ended my weekend and prepared for the week ahead.

One of the most memorable songs played by the good doctor was "They're coming to take me away ah-haa!" 

I bring this up because today...wait for it...I realized that it's become a battle for the survival.  It's Elsie W or it's me.  One of us is going to go insane and be carted off.  Granted, she has a BIG head start on me, but I feel like I'm catching up.

See, last week was all about her car.  That's a drama I'm saving for the book...which reminds me...have you voted for a title yet?  The saga of her car repair is one that makes me laugh and makes me want to drink...heavily.

But that is NOTHING compared to the saga of her MRI.  Before this is over and she actually has the test, they may be doing a full brain scan on me.

It was today that did it.  Up until today, the woes of her back pain and the basic grievance she has against our new health plan  (which is perfectly FINE, especially when you figure in the cost.  Of course, she is also medicating her CAT with human meds, so that cost does add up.) was something she kept pretty much to herself, or behind the closed door of the conference room where she spent 95 minutes of her 60 minute lunch hour yammering at one unsuspecting customer service grunt or another.  These calls almost always involved her calling information...and you know that makes me smile.

But not today.  No, today, she arrived at work at 10:27.  I can only assume, since her normal start time is 11, that she meant to get there at 10 because she's still trying to make up for all the work she "missed" during the saga of the car.  (Believe me...it's hilarious.)  However, by 11:02 she was in need of a break.  So break she did, for about 15 minutes.  Then, she asked, as she always does, when I planned on taking my lunch.  I told her, as I always do, that I planned on taking my lunch at 1:30.  And she said, as is fast becoming her habit, that she was going to take another "15 minute break to walk around the building."

That break lasted about 25 minutes. 

When I got back from lunch at 3  (I work until 5...start at about 7:30, and allow myself two trips to the ladies' room.  Ponder that.)  she announced that she was taking "the rest of her lunch."  Now, by my math, she had 20 minutes left.  Which means I was not surprised at all when it took her that long to prepare the feast of food she calls lunch.  (The rest of us know it as her third meal at work.)

THEN, she locked herself in the conference room where, for the next 90 minutes she could be heard shouting at someone about whether or not she needed to be preregistered for an MRI under our plan.  (Those of you not familiar with the US medical care system, it is pretty much a RULE that you call ahead to make sure your care provider is going to cover whatever test or procedure you're having done if you're having it done at a hospital, as she was.)  She, however, was of the opinion that she did not need the clearance because she "read it someplace in the book."

(I should note that on the back of our health care card it does say you need to preregister for any in or out patient procedure.  I read that out loud to her, which gave her ammunition in her battle against the "idiots" she was talking to.  How did she glean from what I read that she did NOT need to preregister?  Read on.)

After 90 minutes, and just a short time before I was going to go home, she emerged from the conference room, only to sit down at her desk and dial her desk phone.  At this point she held her cell to one ear and her desk phone to the other and spent the next 15 minutes shouting at two separate insurance companies at the same time. 

At 5 PM, as I was waiting for my ride home, she showed no signs of slowing down.  In fact, having read the back of my card, she was POSITIVE that she did NOT need preregistration for the MRI because...as she clearly explained..."AN MRI IS A TEST...not a procedure."

Right...I'm sure that's going to clear things up completely.

When I left, or rather fled, from the office, she was pacing back and forth in the show room, her hair a wild cotton candy cloud, and my copy of the insurance coverage book clung in her really red fake fingernails.  (I hold out no hope that that hasn't been shredded and doused in coffee.)  She was moving in to hour 3 of her rant against her former insurance company, her current insurance company, the clinic, and the hospital.  I'm not sure who she had on the line when I ran out the door, but these words ring in my ears:

"OH MY GOD I'M GOING TO SHOOT MYSELF IN THE HEAD BECAUSE YOU ARE SUCH A GROUP OF INCOMPETENT IDIOTS!"

I relayed that to Hubby, right after I yelled, "DRIVE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DRIVE!"  He suggested, the next time she says something like that, I quietly dial 911 and ask that someone come to take my coworker into protective custody.

Well, it's either that, or they're going to cart me away, curled in the fetal position, sucking my thumb.

DROP YOUR INSURANCE CARD!

So I leave you now my friends because Hubby, who knows me well, has just put "Princess Bride" into the blu ray player.  I'm going to my happy place!

Laundry List Friday: Let the voting begin!

Good afternoon all!

I know, I know...it's Saturday.  And I also realize that my poll includes 10, not 5, titles to vote on.  Well, I got some late arriving suggestions that were just too good to pass up.

The titles are in NO particular order, but I will give a little bit of a shout out to the originators (and therefore those in the running for the grand prize of all my published books....or possibly an Amazon gift card if you already have the books) for each title.

I should explain that the book, while initially set to cover the humor from many of my jobs, will now be of a single purpose:  To Chronicle the humor of just one woman:  LCW, or Elsie W, as I am calling her.  Even with that minor change, I believe I have a great group of readers and followers, and we've come up with a solid list of 10 titles to choose from.

And the Oompa Loompas Thought They had it Bad.  This from my good friend "Marie" who has been following my work woes for a good long time.  Willy Wonka saved the Oompa Loompahs from terrible work conditions...but none of them had to sit next to Elsie W.

Horror Stories from the Front Lines in a Small Office
This is from reader Markdotnet who I suspect is also a fan of Bob and Brian's horror stories.

So get Your Own Brain...Mine's Being Used.

College Friend "Lisle" sent in this gem after reading my almost daily LCW updates on Face book.

Office Survival Manual, Part One: The Caring and Feeding of Your Coworkers


This from High School friend "Andi."  (She's clearly my smartest friend!)  I also like the Part One aspect...meaning I have permission to write more!  LOL!


I can't fix STUPID, but I sure would like to poke at it with a stick

I realize this is actually a title of one my recent posts, but my oldest friend "Roxanne" pointed out that it really fits as a good title for this project, and therefore she gets the entry credit.

How Does She NOT Fall Down More?


This one sent in via my website.  What...I have a website?  Yes, I do. Click here!  It was anonymous, so I'll have to check my web records.  Of course, I like it because I say this a lot about good old LCW.

Elsie W.: She never ceases to amaze

This was actually a team effort between two people I do not believe have every met.  Hubby...who suggested I simply name the book after the woman who is the source of the stories, and Face Book friend SPS  (Her real initials of course)


If Men are From Mars, Women from Venus, What Planet is My Coworker From?
 
This is from Face Book friend ABB  (Again, real initials.)  Dangling preposition aside, I think it's hilarious...and it might get confused with another very popular book, which means people might buy it by accident!  (I'll take all the sales I can get!)
 
Where Competence Goes to Die:  The Elsie W Story
 
I love this one from fellow Bob and Brian/You Still Can't Win player, "MTBS." (He knows who he is.)  Sure, I added the last bit, but that front part is all genius.
 
The Daily Drain:  Working with Elsie W.
 
College mate "Rhonda" gave me this idea, tying in the type of work we do to the book.  Again, I added that last bit, but playing with the double meaning of the word "drain" was all "Rhonda's"  idea.
 
So there are my favorite ten titles.  Voting is open until October 31, (Something about Halloween seemed fitting.)   at which time I will close the voting and we will have a winner.

BTW, you vote by clicking on your favorite title in the list there on the right hand column of this blog.  Yes, you can vote more than once.  Why not?  I'm not better than "American Idol."  Wait, maybe I am...I don't charge texting fees!
 
Thank you to all my readers, friends, and contributors.  And remember, if you made a suggestion and you don't see it here, it's not that it was bad...it's just that it wasn't, as they say in the publishing industry, "what we are looking for at this time." 

Quick reminder! (And a bit of a tease)

Good morning!

Just a quick reminder to my friends and readers:  This FRIDAY I will be putting up my favorite title suggestions for a vote.  I have several great suggestions, but I want to get as many as I can! 

Remember:  The winner of the best title gets a complete set of my published books!  (And if you already have those...then I'll send you some McDonald's coupons or something!  LOL)

Do not poke the aging English major...you will not like the result.

Good evening!

I wasn't going to blog today.  I haven't been feeling great...the weekend was  packed with a lot of stuff that the kept me off the couch and away from the healing power of the nap.  But something happened at the end of the day that was so astounding, I had to share it with you.

When I was a kid, my parents, my dad mostly because as a man of words  (He taught high school English for a couple decades) he enjoyed using words that sounded made up, but were real.  It was his way of sort of testing his audience, seeing who had a grasp on English as their first language and who did not.
One of the words he enjoyed using was jackanape.

As he used the word, in conjunction with things like "slack jawed" and "Dim witted" and his favorite  "culvert dwelling"  (look that one up)  I gathered that it meant something none too complimentary.  (Later, when I majored in English in college, I learned more uses for the word.  Again, not complimentary.)

After a particularly tedious phone call with a person today...the kind where you know from the first second that this person is never going to buy what you're selling because 1) They can't afford it  2)  The job involves far more construction repair than we can do or 3)  They "know a guy" who can do it for half the price but they won't admit any of it, and they wind up mouthing breathing away half an hour.  (They will also waste 60-90minutes of the sales guys' time tomorrow, but that's not my concern at the moment.)  Once off the phone, as I wiped my ear sweat away, I muttered the words, "dim witted jackanape."

LCW, who can't hear anyone when they are on the phone with her, and can't hear the radio even though the walls are bleeding with volume, heard me say that.  She asked what the word jackanape meant.  I admitted that while I did not know the exact definition, I knew it to be an insult, probably dwelling on the person's intelligence or manners.

It is no secret in the office that LCW thinks I use too many big words.  (She, like NBM, was confused by the word "thwarted.")  It is no secret to my friends that the minute someone who speaks English as a first language insults me for using more than 4% of the words in my native tongue, I tend to really get going on the vocabulary. 

Therefore, I did not, as she suggested I do, look on the Internet for the meaning of jackanape. (She has the Internet on her computer as well...something she forgets until she wants to ignore her job completely and download videos on belly fat.)  I had work to do.  Also, I'd already make a second pot of coffee at her command...(one she did not drink,) and I unhooked her headset from her phone, ending two weeks of rage and battle that cannot be put in a blog, but will make the new book I intend to publish by the end of the year.  (Still looking for good title suggestions for that one BTW.)

After thinking about this for an hour or so, not doing any actual work during that time, but you know, before she took a lunch break, LCW decided, loudly, to look up the word "on the web."  (Since I wouldn't do it for her.  Sorry, she makes more than I do and I'd spent the morning cleaning up not one but multiple messes she created over the weekend.  Why they let her "work" unsupervised on Saturdays is beyond me.)

Part of my job is to make phone calls to various inspectors and set appointments vital to the legal completion of the work we do.  In short...if I don't do my job...bad crap happens to the bottom line of the office.

Keep that in mind as you read the following:


Sarah:  (Dialing and the phone, slogging through voice automation, and getting a live inspector.)  Good afternoon!  This is Sarah from Dunder Mifflin...I need to set up--

LCW:  HOW DO YOU SPELL JACKANAPE?

Sarah:  Oh, yes, I'll hold.  Thank you.
LCW:  HOW DO YOU SPELL JACKANAPE?  BECAUSE I CAN'T FIND IT ANYPLACE ON THE WEB.

Sarah:  (trying to maintain a business like voice while Shakespearean banshees are howling three feet behind her.)  Yes, good afternoon Lenny, thank you for taking my call...

LCW:  IT MUST BE A BAND NAME.  THAT'S ALL I CAN FIND IS THE NAME OF A BAND.

Sarah:  Yes, I need to schedule and inspection...I'm sorry, you can't hear me...let me turn up the volume on my phone.  Is that better?

LCW:  OH WAIT...THIS IS A GUY!  JACK AND APES....WAIT, NO, THAT'S STILL A BAND.  BUT THEN THERE's THIS GUY WHO HAS FOLLOWERS.  I WONDER IF A JACKANAPE IS A GUY WHO HAS FOLLOWERS.  SARAH....IS IT A GUY WHO HAS FOLLOWERS?

Sarah:  Yes, I need an inspection on the 25th.  the 25th.  THE 25th.

LCW:  NO.  IT'S GOT TO BE A BAND.  BUT THAT'S NOT INSULTING.    SARAH...THERE'S NO DEFINITION ANYWHERE ON THE WEB ABOUT THIS JACKANAPE.  BUT I MIGHT BE SPELLING IT WRONG. 

Sarah:  Yes, I'm sorry about the noise...They're sandblasting our building.

LCW:  I JUST WISH I KNEW HOW TO SPELL THE WORD OR THAT THERE WAS SOME DEFINITION PLACE ON THE WEB.  WAIT...DO WE HAVE A DICTIONARY IN THE BUILDING?  SARAH, WHERE IS THE DICTIONARY?

Sarah:  Yes, the 25th.  And I do apologise for the noise.  I think someone is slaughtering water buffalo in the shop.  (Sarah hangs up.)

LCW:  WELL I COULDN'T FIND IT.  ARE YOU SURE YOU DON'T KNOW HOW TO SPELL IT?  BECAUSE I WOULD LIKE TO KNOW WHAT THAT WORD MEANS.

Sarah:  (Picking up the phone and pretending to make another call...not daring to make an actual call because LCW is shouting at the top of her glass scratching voice.)

LCW:  WELL I'M GOING TO LUNCH.

I should mention that the last time I suggested she Google a term...she wondered aloud if I was trying to tell her to translate it into another language. 

I should also mention that the link I have put here for jackanape is the FIRST entry for a Google search involving the letters j-a-c-k-a. 

Tomorrow..."Enigma."

(I'm really hoping Bob and Brian, the guys from my favorite radio morning show on 1029 THE HOG will bring back "Job Horror Stories" sometime this year.  Clearly, I have a winner.  It's just a matter of picking one.)


Finally, don't forget, I'm still looking for titles for my work horror story book.  The five I think are best will go to a vote on My Laundry List Friday Blog this week.

Laundry List Friday (Sort of) 5 things everyone should know. Everyone. No exceptions.

Good afternoon!!

Sorry, I'm running a day late.  I did an interview yesterday at SOS Aloha, (You should check it out...someone MIGHT win a free copy of Lies in Chance!)

Anyway, this week I talked to my mother...and the phrase "That's just walking around information" came up.  I realized in talking to her that I'm not alone in working closely with someone who is woefully unaware of basic information to get them through their day.  Forget college education and what they teach in schools, these are five things everyone over the age of 12 should just know.  Not sure I'm right?  Try sitting next to someone who doesn't have basic walking around knowledge and NOT yelling at them  "HOW DO YOU NOT KNOW THIS?"

(Also, while I did not set out to write yet another column on LCW...this one sort of turned out that way.)

5)  How to locate your country, state  (or province) county and city on a globe or map.

Geography seems to be something so many people lack.  I had a friend once who said she didn't know how to get anywhere except to the places on her "little goat path."   And this isn't about world travel or knowing where a foreign county is...this is about me, pointing to Wisconsin on a globe and saying, that's Waukesha County, and I live there."  (You'd be shocked at how many people can't do that.  And then again, maybe you wouldn't be.)

4)  John, Paul, George, and Ringo

Anyone over the age of 12 and under the age of 82 should have at least a rudimentary knowledge of who the Beatles are/were.  I'll admit, I'm not a gigantic fan, but I know most of their songs  (who doesn't?  Oh, wait, people for whom this blog is written.) and I cannot miss the influence that they have, even today, in music across the world.

3)  E  Means empty.

Basic rules of car maintenance.  It should come as no surprise to you all that LCW has run out of gas and had to borrow money from co workers no less than three times  (That I know of) since I started working with her.  E means empty.  You shouldn't drive on a flat tire.  Get the oil changed every 3000 miles.  When smoke starts coming out from under the hood  STOP THE CAR!

2)  The "Tour De France" is in France.  And yes, it is a sport.

Granted, not everyone in the world is a cycling fan.  However, if you say "Tour De France" to pretty much anyone, wouldn't you think everyone would know it's in France?

You would be wrong.

I'm not going to point fingers, but I had a very depressing conversation with a French Canadian gent and LCW.  The topic of sports came up.  The gent and I spoke about hockey, football, soccer, baseball.  I then asked if he was following the Tour.  He didn't know what I meant.  I then said, "The Tour De France."  He was, again, unsure about what I meant.  LCW, trying to be helpful said, "Is that a sport thing?"  I said yes, it was cycling.  Both of them looked confused, and the gent asked  "Is it in France?"  And LCW piped up, "France, the country?"

(Yes, there is a dent in the top of my desk...why do you ask?)

1)  20% of 100 is 20.

I realize I'm not good at math.  I'm okay when it comes to adding and multiplying and dividing.  I have issues with subtraction and geometry, and don't get me started on higher math.  I barely eked through high school algebra with a lot of tutoring and prayer.  That said, I think anyone and everyone, especially those armed with a calculator, should be able to figure out 20% of any number without asking their co worker.  Hubby says I should just give LCW a different answer each time she asks.

To prove my point, I asked both my children a neighbor, a friend, another co worker, and a complete stranger if they were able to figure out 20% of any number.  While I got 6 different ways of doing it, every one of them had a way to go about it.

So my friends, these are five simple things that everyone over the age of 12 should know.  If you find someone who doesn't know this five things....make them a T-shirt that warns those around them. These are dangerous people and should be marked as such.

Now, on to other topics.  I have decided, after much encouragement, to put to publication my workplace stories.  No, they won't all be about LCW, but she will be featured.  Bossman, NBM, they will all be there. 

What I'm looking for is a title.  I'm terrible at titles.  So, feel free to make a suggestion here...or friend me on my Face Book page.

Top five suggestions will be put to a vote in next week's Laundry List blog.

Laundry List Friday: 5 hours closer to my mental breakdown.

Good morning!

So yesterday was Thursday and, after the stressful week we'd had here at Dunder Mifflin, I was sort of hoping for a quiet day sans crazy.

I sort of forgot that LCW's day off was Friday.  Not Thursday.

So today, I'm going to relate to you as best as I can, the five hours yesterday that nearly pushed me over the edge.

5)  11AM-noon

LCW arrives late and in a foul mood.  Not sure why, although with the new Girl quitting after two days, I thinking LCW realized she may have said a bit too much negative about NBM and that affected New Girl's attitude and thusly new Girl quit.  then I realize this is LCW we're talking about and therefore that sort of self realization is not within her grasp.

Not when she asks me this question...again.  "How do you figure out what 20% off a price is?"

I should explain, the biggest part of her job is to call customers who have had a quote done to see if they'd like to revisit that  quote.  She offers them 20% off their original quote, a thing that makes the sales guys insane because some of these people had quotes done as long as 5 years ago.  But what makes me crazy is that when a prospective client says, "Well, what will that cost me then?"  she has to put them on hold and ask me to figure out what 20% off is. 

I've explained the magic of my calculator versus hers.  I've explained the very complicated formula I use to figure it out.  Keep in mind, my friends, that I barely passed high school math. 

But that's not the killer.  I explained what the new price would be and she returned to the client and gave them the price.  They must have asked a detailed question...one can only guess...and then LCW said something that made me want to howl.

"I'm sorry, i don't know anything about the sales department or what they do.  You'll have to ask the salesman that when he gives you the new quote.  I have nothing to do with sales, I just set the appointments."

Her title is....INSIDE SALES REP.    But don't ask her any questions about sales.

4)  Noon-1

LCW has been complaining for a couple days that her back hurts because she has to sit so much and because she has to be on the phone.  Now, I have to question this because every day for the past two weeks I've booked as many appointments as she has...and i still find time to stretch a bit and walk about the building.  just sayin'.  But she was especially whiny today about the fact that at all of her last phone jobs she had a headset.  I said she should ask NBM for one.  She said she'd done that and that he pooh poohed her request.

So she returned to the phones.  Not, as I thought, to call a client and you know, do her job....no, instead she called her counterpart at another branch to find out if that woman had a headset.

She did.

Knowing full well that NBM has the ears of a bat, I again suggested that she ask him for a headset.  Five minutes later, he was on his way to the store to buy her a headset.

I should ask for a raise.

He returned half an hour later and set a box containing a headset on her desk.  And then he went back to his office.  "Do you need help hooking that up?" he asked.

"Oh no," she cackled.  "Sarah and I have it handled.

Really?  When did this become my project?

But, watching her unload the wires and connections, I realized that I had to step in.  I had to.  She was doing bad things with that stupid head set.  So I ask her to let me take a look.  She removes herself from her desk, goes to my desk and proceeds to...no, not really do her job...she proceeds to eat the last of the candy in my candy dish.  (If you're keeping score, that's two BIG bags of Hershey's kisses she's plowed through in 9 work days.  I initially thought having the candy dish on my desk was a nice touch for customers coming in to the office.  I had no idea I would be singlehandedly feeding my co worker.)

3)  1Pm -2PM

It took me an hour to hook up the headset.  Not because it took me that long but because LCW  is a little like a 4 year old.  She cannot keep her hands OFF things.  (And once there is no candy at my desk, there's really no point to sitting there.)  So, after an hour, and given the fact that, once again, my lunch hour will come in the last two hours of my work day, I finally am ready to have her test the headset.  We work out all the steps needed to make it work and, so you are all clear about this, here is what she is supposed to do when the phone rings.

a) take the hand receiver off the cradle and set it on the desk
b) push the headset button on her headset control device.
c) talk.

"I shouldn't have to pick up the hand receiver," says she. 

"Yes, you have to do that," says I.

"Why?"

"Because that's how it works."

AT this point NBM, tired of hearing the children's theater that is this past hour, walks out and asks if we need any help.  I tell him no, that I have it all hooked up and that it's ready to go.

"But I shouldn't have to pick up the hand receiver" says LCW.

"Yes, you are," says I.

"How do you know?"

I hold up the directions and point to the steps to answering the phone.  "Because I can read."

And then I go to lunch...for an hour.

2)  2:45-3:45

You may have noted that I didn't get an hour for lunch.  Well that's because I made the mistake of coming back from my lunch time walk a few minutes early.  That's when I see PM, another coworker, sitting at LCW's desk...testing the phone.

In the 45 minutes I was away from the desk, LCW had managed to foul all the settings on the headset receiver, and convince PM that I didn't know what I was talking about.

PM, who hadn't read the directions  (because LCW was holding them in her hand and sitting in another office) looked befuddled.  In muted tones I explained to him the steps to answering the phone with the headset.    He in turn explained it to her.

"But I shouldn't have to pick up the hand receiver.  I never had to at any of my other phone jobs."

(I've often wondered about her other jobs...she keeps saying she's had jobs before.  I have my doubts.)

At my wits' end...I take the directions from her, unfold them, and point to the step that says, "TAKE HAND RECEIVER OFF CRADLE AND SET IT ON THE DESK."

PM leaves for the day.

1)  3:45-5:15

Since my day is done at 5, I send LCW on her lunch break.  Although...what she was breaking from, I have no idea.

I'm not going to bore you with the mini drama involving her car, except to say that the oil light came on in her car...(along with all the other lights in the dash.  It happens when you start the vehicle).  She admitted she hadn't had an oil change in some time, but that she'd "poured some oil in a week ago."  NBM, on his way out the door to go home, was of no help.  I called Hubby, who said the car was safe enough, he was sure, to drive to the nearest gas station  (two blocks away) to get more oil.

Instead, she conned the guys who work in the other half of our building to give her not only a quart of oil, but 5 gallons of gas.  Then she checked in to make sure she was still  "on lunch."  (She had 15 minutes left on her hour...) 

So half an hour later...(Not only are her math skills lacking, her concept of time as it applies to her is way out of whack.)  she comes back, still chomping on a burger and griping about how she had to eat it without tasting it.  (Hey, try not getting lunch until you've been in the office 7 hours because the person you work with is a nitwit.)

No, I'm not going to bore you with all that because the number one moment that has pushed me closer to that mental breakdown I so completely deserve is this:

Yesterday was payday...which means we got paychecks...which means, say it with me class:

I had to explain her paycheck to her.  Again.

See, NBM has been having her come in an hour early to "help" me.  (Not necessary.  I get more done without having to deal with her.  I think we all know that.)  But because that hour is overtime...she makes $21 an HOUR on those ours.  (Way more than what I make, BTW)

She was CONVINCED, however, that she'd only been paid for one hour of overtime at the rate of $8.75. 

So after I explained that, I also told her the good news:  They'd taken out deductions for health care this check, and not doubled up deductions on our next check as we expected.

Except...they forgot to take out her medical deductions.

Why, I have no idea, but, as I was waiting for Hubby to pick me up, I was faced with yet another round of wailing and the mantra "I'm all alone in the world...I can't live on this."

(You're getting free oil and gas from strangers...stop whining!)

So I told her to email the woman in charge of benefits.

"Well, how am I supposed to email her?"

Oh yes, I forgot...she's unable to read and respond to emails.

So I gave her the woman's phone number.  Which she called.  At 5 Pm...and the woman works in the Eastern Time Zone.

"What time is is there?"

Why I should expect a person who doesn't get the concept of 20% to understand time zones, well, I'm the idiot.

SO I tell her to leave a message, which she does.  And then...

She calls PM AT HOME.  Why she called him can only be traced back to the day when she filled out the paperwork under his very patient eye.  HE spent 3 hours one day helping her fill out forms.  So of course, he's the one to blame for a corporate mistake that happened a time zone away.

As I was leaving, she hung up from shouting at PM, and informed me of two things.

a) her headset wasn't working at all
b) I clearly was wrong about her having to pick up the hand receiver.

Weighted down with the realization that her co-worker's idiocy
will kill her one day, Sarah gives up.

Is it any wonder then, that when Hubby offered to stop at the store and pick up some Vernor's to mix with a touch of Irish Whiskey I was more than HAPPY to say yes?

I can't fix STUPID, but I sure would like to poke at it with a stick.

Good evening!

Well, I have been absent from my beloved blog, my friends, and not because I'm having a breakthrough on my newest novel. Sadly, not.  No, Instead, I've taken these several days and soaked up the Au jus of stupid that seems to glisten like moonlit waterfall on us all.

And how is it I'm not on the NY Times list?  Hmmmmm?

So today I want to just share with you three random acts of stupid from last week.

Random act of Stupid #1

It should come as no surprise to those of you who have been reading the last month , that the first act of stupid comes from none other than LCW, the woman I sit next to at work.

Let me say again, LCW is a dear woman with a good heart.  And one of these days she is going to drive me over the edge.



Have fun storming the supply closet
There is but one key...and I have it.



On Thursday NBM was out of the office for that big evaluation.  (Why are we #1?  Why is he so awesome?  I think it has something to do with the fact that the office supplies are kept locked and only he has the key.  Very "Princess Bride" if you ask me.  )

So anyway, Thursday we were supposed to bring in our insurance paperwork.  Everyone in the company had to fill out new paperwork for insurance.  And while the deadline was Friday, we were asked to bring it in on Thursday.  Now, LCW first of all was late getting to work because, and I am not making this up, she left her purse and her rollaway cooler, the one she always brings to work, in her driveway and didn't realize it until she was halfway there before she had to turn around and get it.

Which means, my friends, that the insurance paperwork was OF COURSE...anyone?  Anyone....NOT WITH HER when she walked in.

I asked her, "Do you have your paperwork?"

"No.  It's not due until Friday."

"Yes, but you don't work on Friday."

"I know but today is Thursday...the paperwork isn't due until Friday."  Says she.

"I know, " says I, "but you don't work on Friday.  So did you bring it with you today?"

"But it's not due until Friday."

This goes on for a few more minutes.  After I managed to show her that without having the paperwork on her person TODAY, she would have to make another trip, and after her episode of hysterics which always follows on the heels of a correction no matter how slight, I tried to tell her to take her lunch hour and go get the papers.  She lives 25 minutes away, it would be fine.

She didn't want to do that.  "I'll come back tonight and drop it off in the mailbox."

"You're going to come back, after leaving work at 8 pm, and you're leaving the papers in the mailbox on the street?"

"Sure.  I don't care.  I don't want to use my lunch hour going home."

Her logic was nothing short of genius...sort of. 

I let that sit for a few minutes and then suggested again that she take her lunch hour and do the errand.  Again, she refuses.  Saying she'll come back after work, that will make more sense.

TO WHOM?

An hour later, about the time I was thinking I should have a lunch break...you know since I'd been at work since 7 and she'd been there an hour...she said, "I think I will take my lunch and go get the paperwork.  When were you thinking of going to lunch?"

NOW!  I wanted to shout, but hey, I'll wait until 2:30.   Again.

So off she went.

105 minutes...yes, one hour and forty five minutes later, she arrives back at the office, with a white envelop in her hands.  "Oh good, you have them."  Says I.

Wait for it.

"No," says she.  "These are the papers from my OLD insurance company."

I know, you have 1000 questions.  Believe me, I mentally asked all of them.  Clearly we could not send her back home to get the papers, which, she was sure, were in her house. Probably.  "But before you go to lunch..."

No sweat.  It's only 2:45.  I do have to take a lunch before 5 PM.  That's when I leave.

Later, when I returned, the poor soul in charge of collecting our paperwork, let's call him PM, told me that her solution to the problem, in this day of emails, faxes, scans, and whatnot, was to white out MY PAPERWORK, make a copy of the now blank sheets, and fill in her information and then have me just fill mine in again.

Fortunately, PM stopped her from doing that.  It meant he didn't get to go home until 6 PM that night, going step by step with her over everything in what I can only imagine was the most tedious lesson he's ever taught...and he has two potty trained children who I believe can tie their shoes, but he got all the papers in.

And that's not the most stupid thing I experienced last week.

So on Friday, I realized on my way home from work, that I was out of my feminine products.  There's a Walmart on my way home, so I stopped in.  Now, if you've read this blog you know that purchasing feminine products, for me, is never quick because I have to weigh all the pros and cons of each product.  So it's a high concentration moment for me.

I'm standing there, in the Walmart, in front of the wall of feminine protection, and a young lad, of perhaps 17, walks up to me.  He is carrying a basketball and a clipboard.

Nope, still not making it up.

He says to me, "I'm collecting money for my school so I can play basketball.  Can you donate?"

I look at him, my concentration broken.  What I wanted to say was, "Oh great! Now my concentration is broken.  Do you see where you are?  Do you not realize that making a purchase of these products requires a significant amount of detailed study?  You want to play basketball?  I want to wake up not drowning in a puddle of gooey tissue slough because I couldn't pick the proper protection for the money I'm willing to pay.  You want to play basketball?  How about if you do my laundry this week?  How about that?  No?  No?  You don't want to chance it because it might be gross?  Oh I promise you it will be if I don't pick up the right package RIGHT NOW!  IT WILL BE GROSS!"

I didn't say that.

Instead, I said, "No, not today.  But congrats, you're in my blog."

Still not the most stupid thing that happened to me.

Out of Walmart, I decide, against my better judgement, that I'm hungry, too hungry to wait until dinner, which is more than 3 hours away, so I'm going to stop at the local Mc Donald's.  All I wanted...ALL I WANTED was a double cheeseburger.  I'm willing to pay the extra .25 they charge for that second slice of cheese.

So I roll up to the drive through and give the box my order. 

"That'll be $#$$&%$^"  she says.

Well it doesn't matter because I know, after buying double cheeseburgers for so long, that it's going to be $1.30.  I take out a nickel, a dollar, and a quarter.

So I roll up to the window and hand her $1.30.

"I need another six cents"  she says. "It's $1.36."

I hand her a nickel and a penny.

"No," says she, "It's $1.36."  and she hands me a nickel back.

So I hand her the nickel again.

"NO," says she, handing me back a nickel.  "It's $1.36.  I just needed a penny."

"You're holding $1.31."  says I. 

"Oh, wait...yeah.  I need the nickel."

And those...my friends...were the three most stupid moments of my week last week.

How am I not ruling the planet yet?



Laundry List Friday: 5 skills I'm putting on my next resume.

Good evening all!

So I've now completed my third week with the new job.  Got my first paycheck, which, I am delighted to say, did not reflect any sort of oddities given the fact that we were bought and sold a week ago.

I was going to write a list entitled "There's something about Sherri"  all about the woman I work with, but today something struck me that was far more funny...I am clearly NOT putting my best, most usable skills on my resume.  Who knew?  So, the next time I send out my resume, you can bet it's going to include the following vital, if somewhat specialized skills.

5 Skills I bring to any business.

5)  I can read and translate a paycheck.  (I can also open one without shredding it.)

Those of you who follow me on Facebook  (and if you're not, why aren't you?  I AM HILARIOUS!)  have been hearing about the woman who sits next to me...I call her LCW  (Lady CoWorker).   This poor woman, while being very sweet, is also easily befuddled and therefore unintentionally hilarious.  Yesterday, I got my very first paycheck.  (Also, my very last since the business that hired me was sold and bought and therefore I now work for yet another new company.)  I was pretty jazzed as I read through hourly pay, overtime pay, deductions, totals, all that good stuff.

Meanwhile...at the desk next to mine:

"WHAT?  This isn't right!  This. Is. Not. RIGHT!"

"What's not right?"  (Why do I get involved.)

"My deductions.  Who can live on this if this is how much they're deducting?"  (Truly a question we all ask.)

I didn't get very involved past that for about five minutes.   Then LCW stopped NBM  (this only causes more hilarity.  Read on...) 

LCW:  I need to talk to you about my paycheck.  (She waves the tatters of the check, which is one of those that's held together by perforations and you're supposed to fold along the lines and THEN tear the ends off.  She sort of forgot to fold on the lines.)

NBM:  What did you do to your paycheck?

LCW:  Nothing.  I mean, I couldn't open it, so I just tore at it.

NBM:  I hope you haven't voided it by tearing it almost in half.

LCW:  WHAT???????  You can do that????????????

(I should interject here that NBM, I believe, LOVES to needle LCW.  LOVES it.  Sort of like a 9 year old boy poking at a dead animal. For him, it's fun, it's easy, and it provides amusement in an otherwise blechy day.  I'm just guessing, given how often he does it.)

"NBM:  Yep, you can.  So what's wrong with your paycheck, other than the fact that it's torn?

LCW:  It's not right.

The phone rings, and NBM is out of the conversation.  I don't like watching the wounded, so I roll my chair over to her desk. 

"What is the problem?"

LCW:  It's not right.  They took $1200 in taxes out of my check.

(Let me just say, if they took $1200 out of one paycheck, I'm thinking I'm being WAY underpaid!)

"Let me just look at it."  I look at it and realize instantly what the issue is.  "The $1200 is your gross pay to date.  The amount of taxes taken out is right here."  I point to the column. 

LCW: It's too much taken out. How am I supposed to live on this if they're going to take that much out in taxes?

"I ask myself that all the time.  But see, these are the hours you worked. This is your hourly wage.  You multiply this by this and you get this number here."

LCW:  I don't know. I don't think you're right.

(I guess I should have known I was in trouble.  She asked me the other day to figure out, with the calculator on my desk, what 20% of 1000 was.  Hers kept tellling her 200, but she just knew that wasn't right.)

"It's right.  The total on your check is the total after they take out taxes.  That's the amount of money you have."

She was quiet then...but that didn't end the issue.  later in the day she called the home office....in Montreal...and got very upset when they were closed. 

4)  I can type without the rubber fingers for protection.

In the move, many of the office supplies got jumbled.   LCW was sorting through a box of things yesterday and handed me one of those rubber fingers covers, the type you use to avoid paper cuts when you have to thumb through a lot of paper.  I asked her what it was for...she said, "You'll need that since you do so much typing."

3)  I am able to hold a conversation with someone and put stamps on outgoing mail at the same time.

NBM does not think so...as evidenced by his shout from his office today that all the sales guys "GET AWAY FROM SARAH'S DESK."  I asked if we should just erect barbed wire around my area, since this wasn't the first time he's thwarted my attempts to get to know my co workers.     He said it might be a good idea...except he wasn't sure of something, which brings me to #2.

2)  I know what the word THWARTED means.

Say it with me, my friends, "How do these people not fall down more?"  We are #1 in the company, led by man who does not know what the word "thwarted" means when used in a sentence.

Once again, Sarah's work environment has thwarted her desire to stay employed.

And finally....

1)  I know how to change a roll of toilet paper.

I thought this was something only my children refused to learn...but now I realize that it is a necessary skill in the workplace because CLEARLY no one else who uses the ladies' room...(and yes, many of the guys use the ladies' room...unless LCW has decided to leave the seat up.)  is able to do it.

So there it is my friends...the top five things I'm going to put on my resume based on the skill set I have that's so clearly lacking at my current workplace.

And we are number one in the company.

God help us all.