Yesterday was one of those run-around-y days where you don't get a single solitary damn moment to yourself for a minute. My boss was out sick, and TinaDoris was working on a big project, which left all the everyday work to me. And holy cats, everybody, with your everyday work. Jeeeeeeeeesus.
There was one thing I was working on all morning, and every five minutes an email would flash across my screen. At work, when you get emails, they hover there ghostly-ly for a minute on your home screen. They all started with, "Can you...?"
OH MY GODDDDD.
Finally, the thing I was working on all morning was coming to an end, and I was on the last sentence when
Word crashed. And my whole thing went with it. And YES, I looked for it to have been recovered, and NO, it wasn't recovered and NO, I don't know why because YES, I hit Save while I was working on it. The document was there, but with NONE of the changes I had made.
You can imagine my sparkling mood.
Flash: Can you...?
I left a message with IT and screamed over to a meeting, and five minutes into the meeting I realized I had to pee. I had to pee, and I was in the midst of the World's Longest PowerPoint Presentation, complete with spacing errors just to drive me berserk (SOME bullet points had a large space between the bullet and the text! SOME bullet points were mating with the text next to them! And yes. Things like that give me angina. What do you want from me. All of a sudden I'm Billy Squire).
Is there much worse than having to pee and not being able to? Seven hours and 900 minutes later, I said to the New Girl, who started Tuesday and probably just wants to fly under the radar for awhile, "I have to pee so bad." "SO DO I!" she whisper-screamed, holding up an almost-empty water bottle.
Our problem in this nation is we drink entirely too much water. We're all convinced that we're riddled with toxins that constantly need flushing out. Are you eating MUFFLERS or something?
New Girl and I got up and screamed to the bathroom during Q & As. Once the 98th person had raised their hand and started her Q with, "Okay. Couple things," I was out of there. I pointed out to new girl where the super-secret bathroom was, and she said, "No, you can take that one" and soon she'll learn she needn't be nice to me, as I am just the lowly copy editor. Probably because I'm old she assumes I have some authority or something.
I got back to my desk and had 3484839393 "Can you...?" emails, and while I was slogging through everything someone did the thing I LOVE at my cubicle.
Oh, how I love that. HOW.I.LOVE.THAT! Knock knock! Oh, shut up.
I just figured it was someone from my department, so I very generously said, "IMA KILL MYSELF. WHAT!!!?" and when I turned around it was a very nice man from IT. He is nothing but sweetness personified, and you know in the cartoons when that guy turns into a First Class Heel? Yeah.
He figured out why Word is crashing, and I don't know how IT guys even know what they're doing all day. If I had that job, everyone's computer would be punched in a week. But speaking of computers, I had to SCREAM home for lunch, as I had a phone appointment with Daniel Boone, as my OWN computer is screwed up and D Boone is a Very Fancy Computer Guy for a living.
The good news is, he was able to walk me through everything, and he is very good at walking someone stupid through complex computer things, and once he even got me to fix my vacuum while we talked on the phone, kind of like when Radar did the tracheotomy on MASH.
"Is everything good, then? Cause I'll send you my bill," said Daniel Boone, and oh, hardee-har-har.
The rest of the afternoon involved getting more and more work like I was Lucy at the chocolate factory, and at the end of my relaxing day, I got a call from my eye place: my contacts were in. This is good, because as of today I am Officially Out. Before I went over there, though, I checked my account, because contacts are expensive. The part where I had $27 kind of squelched my get-my-contacts plan till Friday.
Twenty-seven dollars. What am I, a freshman in college? The good news is I found two dollars in my jeans this morning, and somehow having $29 sounds less pathetic. I got home and let the dogs out and started to commence my freelance work, because in case you did not know, I have work from that statistics company I freelance for now and then.
I? Had left the freelance work AT WORK. I HAD LEFT IT AT WORRRRRRRRK.
And that, folks, is how I ended up at work till 8:30, and had a screamy day, and the only good thing I can tell you is on the drive home, I saw my first fireflies of the season in my neighbor Pollyanna's yard.
"Pollyanna" is not a made-up blog name. That is her actual name. Her sister Monopoly is more sensible. Their brother Uno is kind of a loner.
Am I the only one who had Pollyanna as a board game growing up?
So that's all I have to tell you, other than today is officially my friend Pal From MA's birthday.
Happy birthday, Pal. Every inside joke I want to make now is so crude that I cannot do so. So. You know. Happy birthday.
June, frazzled and out.