Random Acts

I don’t know whether it’s the weather or mood swings, but I’ve been noticing more and more this week how beautiful everything seemed to get so suddenly. I find myself staring at the wildflowers that just started to explode on the hillside on my way to and from work every day, and I’ve been overcome with the desire to create. I would like to be painting, but I’d be just as happy planting in our front yard or getting the house in order. On Wednesday, I managed to clean the downstairs and complete some work crap that had been eluding me. It’s weird, but it’s like something in my head has shifted and my focus has become more acute and unwavering. This was a good week.
My Fruit got the promotion she’d been waiting an eternity for on Tuesday…and she sent me beautiful flowers yesterday that have succeeded in making every woman in the building jealous. I think it’s pissing off sysadmin boy a bit, too. The scent of the lillies has been intoxicating, and hanging thickly in the air all the way down the hall. My Fruit always sends the most beautiful flowers…and it almost intimidates me when I want to send some to her. It always amazes me how lucky I am…especially for someone with such bad luck.
She always remembers my favorite flowers…and I haven’t been able to keep myself from making them snap. I think some of the happiest memories from my childhood all involved flowers. I remember being very small…probably very young because my feet did not touch the ground as I sat on the brick ledge of the bbq pit in our backyard. My parents turned it into a planter because they thought it dangerous otherwise. My dad was sitting down with me and showed me how snapdragons will talk to you. A red-orange stem entertained me for quite some time. I’ve tried to grow them in my own garden now…and I hope I’ll adequately figure it out before I have children old enough to appreciate the ideosyncracies of the antirrhinum magus.

I ended up working at home today, and I can’t even believe how much I’ve gotten done in just a few hours. I feel like the important stuff is getting done and it’s absolutely amazing that the house is getting taken care of too. I finished a few queries, closed some tickets, sent off emails I’d been sitting on and managed to get dinner cooking on the stove, the clothes that have been sitting on the bed downstairs put away, a load of laundry going and the dishwasher run. The house still isn’t perfect, but it’s way better than it would be if I was at work right now. If I could work like this on my couch ever day, I’d be a happy woman. I’ve got Lucy blasting from the surround sound, the dog outside and my keyboard in my lap. I am so ready to stay home.

I think my intense wave of irrational, angry PMS has finally dissipated into my usual self. It was especially bad this month, and I am totally drained from my rampage. Week before last, I was furious and frantically trying not to show it…last week I was just emotional about everything. Now, I am finally picking up where I dropped my projects. I hope next month isn’t so bad. My head has been totally flooded with a constant stream of thought lately. I’m not sure where it is all coming from, but, at the very least I’m amused by myself and at the most I can’t sleep.
We had a meeting yesterday…one of the random workgroups I’ve suddenly found myself to be a part of…and it struck me suddenly that I have finally found the one environment I seem to fit into. It was like watching a cheesey sitcom or something observing these people. Everyone was in some way part of leadership in this group, so they all seemed to have pressing things to get done right that very second. The leader of the meeting was getting upset at the plethora of conversations going on at once and it really seemed that there was always at least one person outside on the phone…and eventually the leader person was one of them. When they finally honed themselves down to three simultaneous conversations (probably half an hour in and finally skirting an actual topic), three more people were called out, another pulled her shirt up to scratch her underwire for a few minutes and I was reduced to a laughing fit. Mr.Westteam slapped me on the arm in many fashion and said, “Have you ever sat with a more neurotic group of people?” I have been seriously pondering this question…and I think the answer has to be yes. The main difference, I think, is that I have finally found a brand of neuroses that works for me.
I really do like it here…and I actually even like 95% of my coworkers. If I could just get my department to get their heads out of their asses, I’d be all set.

The only thing worse than Mondays are Mondays on which I have a horrendous case of PMS. It’s almost like I put out a magnet for people when I am feeling the most anti-social. The boss called me as I was clocking in…one of three times so far that he’s called to annoy me. Since then, I’ve probably had five people come into the office in the typical rude fashion to dump their flaming piles of crap on my desk. I haven’t gotten a damned thing done and I’m so very ready to pack up and go home. My patience ran out in record time today. I could actually feel what little bit I had drain away as one of the users came in to tell me that her computer won’t let her do anything. For IT folk everywhere, I think it should be said that you users really, seriously and desperately need to be more specific. Don’t come in and say, “It won’t let me do anything” and not bring it in to show me what the bloody hell you are talking about. Nextly…the word Cache is pronounced ‘cash’. It is not “cashay” or “kotchy”…and when you have ’synchronized’ and you must abbreviate the explanation of said action, the word is ’synched’…You have not ’sank’ or ’sunk’ or any variation thereof…and for the love of god, on the third week of the month, leave me the fuck alone.

I thought for sure that I was in a good mood today, but, I think I’ve been proven wrong. I am way too easily annoyed for my own good this morning. People have been coming in for the past 45 minutes, just putting their tablets on my desk like flaming piles of shit and talking at me. I wish there was a way to show someone just how rude that is. Perhaps I can keep their machine at my desk just long enough for their papers to be spread all over their cube…perhaps they’ll even be on the phone. I will then bring their tablet back over, slide it on their desk to push their papers out of the way and talk at them. No hellos…no excusing myself…no niceties at all. Goddamn, I should’ve stayed home today.
Someone sent me a request for a laptop with a DVD player to be set up in the conference room for tomorrow. This request came in yesterday afternoon and I have to wonder whether they expect me to just pull it out of my ass prepped and ready. SysAdmin boy is away in Vegas today…normally I would let him deal with the menial hardware crap like that…but, of course I’m the one stuck with it…with short notice…and a horrendous case of PMS.
Maybe I should close my door…put a sign up that says to come back in five to seven days.

I was taking my post lunch leak when I noticed someone who came into the bathroom after me looking (trying to be inconspicuous, mine you) through the crack in the door as she stood at the sink. I’ve noticed this quite a few times, and not just here…and I wonder if men have to deal with that kind of crap. Female bathroom etiquette has always been a topic that amused and interested me on some level. As children, we would stand on the toilet and look over the stalls at each other or pee with the door open among friends. The topic of defecation, regardless of age, has always been taboo and we all seem to designate a certain stall in any bathroom as the one for which shit is ok. In our bathroom here, it’s the furthest one from the door and is equipped with lysol and a plunger. The funniest and most accurate portrayal of our bathroom habits as a sex (that I have found, anyway) was in Laurie Notaro’s ‘The Idiot Girl’s Action Adventure Club’. Since I stumbled across it in an airport bookstore about four years ago, I’ve often wondered why we can’t just get over ourselves. We know that we have the same bodily functions as men do, but they don’t seem to have a problem taking a dump in the presence of each other…whereas women will sit perfectly still and quiet hoping that the person who came in will ignore her presense and promptly leave. Once, I sat on the damned can for twenty minutes waiting for someone to finish applying her makeup before I could continue. I don’t think I’d do that anymore, but I do get gunshy. In the book, the author pondered why we can’t just say that we’re both obviously in there for the same reason and should just fire missiles on the count of three. How perfect would that be? A lavatory utopia for the more peculiar sex.

My fruit’s truck has been in the shop for new brakes, so we got to carpool on Monday and Tuesday. As I was driving home on Monday night, there was a sudden bright flash that illuminated the front seat. I was a little confused for a second, and my fruit couldn’t stop laughing. My stomach had finally done the impossible. My beer belly took a picture with my work cell. I’ve had my gut do lots of strange things with my cell phones and I don’t think that anyone quite believed me. It’s changed my ringtones, volume, display settings. Now that it’s taking pictures, perhaps it will begin text messaging and placing phone calls. It was really a sad day…because I officially have to lose thirty pounds for real this time.

It’s entirely too early in the morning as usual, and I am patiently waiting for my fruit to come out of the shower. After it had be on for about ten minutes, I went in to sneak a peek only to find her sound asleep. I was hoping for sexy when I opened the door, but pretty damn cute is good too. We’re going to be late to work and early to leave today. Her brakes are shot and I won’t allow her to drive a hundred miles a day like that.
I know there will be chaos at work again since I won’t be there at my usual time. Sometimes it feels like I’m working with children or animals or some other creatures of habit. I set the precedent of always being there when they go for help. They know I’ll be there, they’re comfortable with it, and when I’m not all hell will break loose. When I was talking to my fruit in the car yesterday, she said that it’s my own fault for being fast and efficient. I don’t necessarily think it’s a bad thing, but I would like to have my human days as well. I think it has been helpful that I haven’t gotten myself so interwoven with this job. If I need the time, I will tell them rather than ask. I’m still a nice girl, but, I’m setting my boundaries and if they don’t like it I have a family at home who needs me.
It has been a little shocking for me lately to realize just how social a creature I have become here. The only other time in my life when this was the case was my last two years in high school. I thought it was just a fluke lately…since I’ve receded back into my cancerian shell…but, I found myself going to lunch with someone on friday and having to turn down another offer. Yesterday as I was going to talk to someone in clinical (because I still haven’t figured out how to use the intercom), I ended up over there for an entire hour just talking to people. It’s very strange to be an IT person and liked as a person. I know there are some of them who think getting on my good side and kissing my ass will give them priority, but there are still the majority of genuine people here who really do like talking to me.
I guess it could be the zoloft talking.

The clouds were ominous as I was driving home yesterday. The icy wind was sending the trees into frantic waves as I was flying down the street on the way home. I love this weather. I don’t know what it is about an impending storm that gets me so excited, but I get absolutely giddy at the first drops of rain that fall on my windshield. It’s a beautiful day. I can’t wait to go home to my sweet Fruit and cuddle up on the couch. This is the kind of day that makes me want to make soup and bake chocolate chip cookies. Everyone around me seems to be complaining about it, but I can’t wait to be out there in the first rainfall.
So far, I’d say it’s been a pretty good week. I’ve gotten quite a few query projects worked out and have been in an overall good mood. I don’t know what it is, but things have been pretty slow. It seems like the case loads must be less or something because the usual bustle is not so much. It’s good for me so that I can actually get some work done. But, now I’m left with those annoying trouble tickets that need research and tough decision making to complete. Part of me just wants to close them and be done with it.
We had a user group meeting yesterday for our database application. I think I spoke more at that meeting than any other I’ve ever been to. It’s nice to be able to speak about something with confidence among other IT professionals…and especially in front of the boss. I don’t think he realizes just how much I do…and how can he when he’s only here for two days out of the week? I’m the only one there who was concerned about the schema changes made to the new version. After I explained to him what the schema was, everything made much more sense. I didn’t go in his truck for the ride over, so I compromised with myself (and released some guilt) by sitting with him at lunch. I told him that I wanted to ride with the users so that they could feel the IT presence and concern for their jobs. I don’t know if he bought it, but I hope so. I really do care about my users…and I think it’s the first time that I’ve felt this level of respect for them. They are all such nice people.
I’ve been rambling on this blog for a few hours now…and I should probably really be getting some more reports and admin stuff done. It’ll be lunch time in an hour and I promised to go with one of the Volunteer coordinators today. Short and slow days like this are totally lost for work.

Before I blog about something, I usually spend some time trying to think of a clever title to go along with it. This time, I had two…but, seeing that this is my 100th entry to the den of narcissism, I’ll keep it simple. Unfortunately, and as usual, I don’t have anything important to say…much less something that anyone would want to read. It actually occured to me that I have probably written more words in my lifetime than I have actually spoken. I’m not sure which is better.
I decided to eat lunch in the kitchen and face the awkward conversations head-on today. I suppose it didn’t go all too badly, but, I’m not really a big fan of eating in front of people. They ask questions only when your mouth is full…they watch you eat…they talk about disgusting details of the sick patients. It all makes me very uncomfortable. Today there was a couple sitting at the table next to me trying to trump each other at dating themselves. I try to avoid the age conversations at all costs, and I hate when people ask me how old I am. I’m not going to lie, but, I’m not your typical 25 year old, either. One of them was talking about the price of her college classes in 1980, and even though I was being perfectly quiet, sitting at another table and keeping to myself, they brought me into it. They said that I probably wasn’t even alive in 1980 and that they have problems older than I am. Are they too old to recall just how infuriating those kinds of comments are? I tried to ignore it, but my two cents just burned right through my pocket. “I was, indeed, alive in 1980 and when you think about it, most problems are older than time itself.” I cleaned up and left after that…but I’m still a little peeved…and it’s way too early for me to be having PMS.
On another juvenile note, we went shopping yesterday…and fruit and I hate shopping. We ended up spending four hours at Target…two of which were in the bra section. I must have tried on at least five bras before I realized that it wasn’t my back size that was bigger, but I had grown a cup. In the past this might have been a joyous day, and it kind of disturbs me that now that it finally has happened, I couldn’t care less. This really is my luck. Four years ago, I would have been ecstatic. Now I’m just annoyed to be breaking in a new bra. I guess it could be that I’m married now…and I can happily say that my favorite set is tucked away under my “Who Dat” T-shirt and resting sleepily on our couch as I type.
I have to get back to work now…but I am content in the knowledge that my hundredth blog has been entirely about boobs.