I like to start a Monday by first posting something snarky on Facebook to tell the world I am not happy it's Monday. It's what I do. I can't help it. I think it really helps set the tone for the day and warns others to not poke the bear. Usually, I do get enough space to ease into my day and eventually, if I choose to be pleasant, it's a win-win for everyone. I think they appreciate it more.
It's unfortunate that the people that come in for typing tests do not get the "Monday memo." This lady comes in and informs me she hasn't taken a typing test for over 30 years. RED FLAG. I would have hoped, when she shared that information that while she hadn't taken a typing test in 30 years, she may have practiced. All hopes were dashed when she sat down and asked me how the keyboard worked. What? She knows keyboards and their functionalities can be different, so she needed to know if we were going to be using a data processing program to proceed and how the keyboard interacted with that. What? I said, "Well, it's a free internet testing site, there isn't anything special about what we are doing here, just typing." She studied the keyboard with intensity an touched the keys gently. Do I have to use the Enter key? she asked. I explained what she needed to do and that it was ok to backspace or correct errors if need be. She informed me she would need to know the correct process to do that. Should she use the backspace key? The insert? The tab key? The delete button? I found myself living on the edge. I wanted to slap her silly. I wanted to tell her if she didn't know how to operate the keyboard we were screwed. I wanted to tell her to go home and knit something pretty for her cat. She was seriously testing my patience. In fact, I looked around to check the room for cameras to see if I was being punked. No such luck. She then asked me for advice on how she should approach the test, like go fast and don't fix errors, or go slow and fix everything. I explained to her that I was not allowed to give advice and that she needed to do what made sense to her. She seemed flustered. She did manage to pass the practice test, but when it came time for her "real" test, the one that counted, she missed a word. She just stopped and said, "What do I do? Should I fix it?" I advised her it was up to her. She was not pleased with me, I could tell. She got a single digit score on her test, she failed. She wanted a re-test. I told her that was not possible. I get back to my desk and send the HR intern a nasty instant message asking who the hell sent this woman to me. Intern informs me she had just called him asking for a re-test. Are you kidding me? Luckily, he declined her request as well. This woman was something else. The intern said her resume made it sound like she was practically a rocket scientist. Hell, I guess I need to spruce my resume up. Why, I could be a New York Times best selling author, a psychologist, a nutritionist and chief engineer of bullshit! I need to get that jotted down on a post-it for later....
Oh, and I should mention, I started my day by opening my email and finding a message from someone that we believe to be Captain America advising that the Bobba backpack was his. He appreciated my concerns and advised there were no explosives in the backpack. Well, I guess I can rest at ease that Captain America won't blow up the place and that he is at one with his Mountain Dew again. He had a made-up email address and said "nice blog." How did he know about my corn dog blog? I think I am actually being punked now. Anyway, all's well that ends well. I guess now we know how Captain America stays fit.
Now, let me tell you about the best part of my work day. I'm entering vacation days for one of the managers into the vacation system when I decide to go check when my next vacation day is. Yeah. My next days off were last Thursday and Friday, you know, Friday, the day I was saying would be such a great day to have off...yeah, I worked those days, oblivious to the fact it was a scheduled day off. What a dill-hole I am. Who forgets their vacation days? I guess being gone a month really threw me off. I marched into my bosses office and said, "Do you have any idea how dedicated I am?" He instantly said, "I know you are dedicated." I think he was preparing for whatever assault I was about to unleash. I said, "I am so dedicated, I worked right through my vacation days!" I just sat there, feeling robbed and stupid. I mean, I still get the days, but still, I could have had Friday off and it was beautiful outside! Well, better luck this week, I guess.
In other news, my husband is pissing me off. And, I'll tell you why. He is diabetic. I have been begging him to eat better so he can lose weight and get off his meds. I've been nagging him for years. About a week ago I took him to my Dr. Diet Nazi and her Cheese Whore medical assistant. They laid down the law, it was a sort of come to Jesus conversation. Or, in Will's case, a come to cheeses conversation. Anyway, he finally listened and he's been eating right and his blood sugars have been awesome. To add insult to injury, he walks into the bathroom tonight, after a full day of eating and drinking fluids and he steps on the scale and he is down about five pounds. And, were not talking about his first thing in the morning, all naked weight. This is his heaviest of the day. So, that means, he really has lost more than five pounds and I HATE HIS GUTS. That bastard finally listens and then, oh, looky there, he practically farted and lost five pounds. Are you serious? This is proof that life is not fair. I demand a recount! I guess I'll just go forage on some lettuce and program my body to use the thigh master in my sleep and start taking laxatives. That ought to make me lose four tenths of a pound. I'm happy for him, but I hate his guts.
It's unfortunate that the people that come in for typing tests do not get the "Monday memo." This lady comes in and informs me she hasn't taken a typing test for over 30 years. RED FLAG. I would have hoped, when she shared that information that while she hadn't taken a typing test in 30 years, she may have practiced. All hopes were dashed when she sat down and asked me how the keyboard worked. What? She knows keyboards and their functionalities can be different, so she needed to know if we were going to be using a data processing program to proceed and how the keyboard interacted with that. What? I said, "Well, it's a free internet testing site, there isn't anything special about what we are doing here, just typing." She studied the keyboard with intensity an touched the keys gently. Do I have to use the Enter key? she asked. I explained what she needed to do and that it was ok to backspace or correct errors if need be. She informed me she would need to know the correct process to do that. Should she use the backspace key? The insert? The tab key? The delete button? I found myself living on the edge. I wanted to slap her silly. I wanted to tell her if she didn't know how to operate the keyboard we were screwed. I wanted to tell her to go home and knit something pretty for her cat. She was seriously testing my patience. In fact, I looked around to check the room for cameras to see if I was being punked. No such luck. She then asked me for advice on how she should approach the test, like go fast and don't fix errors, or go slow and fix everything. I explained to her that I was not allowed to give advice and that she needed to do what made sense to her. She seemed flustered. She did manage to pass the practice test, but when it came time for her "real" test, the one that counted, she missed a word. She just stopped and said, "What do I do? Should I fix it?" I advised her it was up to her. She was not pleased with me, I could tell. She got a single digit score on her test, she failed. She wanted a re-test. I told her that was not possible. I get back to my desk and send the HR intern a nasty instant message asking who the hell sent this woman to me. Intern informs me she had just called him asking for a re-test. Are you kidding me? Luckily, he declined her request as well. This woman was something else. The intern said her resume made it sound like she was practically a rocket scientist. Hell, I guess I need to spruce my resume up. Why, I could be a New York Times best selling author, a psychologist, a nutritionist and chief engineer of bullshit! I need to get that jotted down on a post-it for later....
Oh, and I should mention, I started my day by opening my email and finding a message from someone that we believe to be Captain America advising that the Bobba backpack was his. He appreciated my concerns and advised there were no explosives in the backpack. Well, I guess I can rest at ease that Captain America won't blow up the place and that he is at one with his Mountain Dew again. He had a made-up email address and said "nice blog." How did he know about my corn dog blog? I think I am actually being punked now. Anyway, all's well that ends well. I guess now we know how Captain America stays fit.
Now, let me tell you about the best part of my work day. I'm entering vacation days for one of the managers into the vacation system when I decide to go check when my next vacation day is. Yeah. My next days off were last Thursday and Friday, you know, Friday, the day I was saying would be such a great day to have off...yeah, I worked those days, oblivious to the fact it was a scheduled day off. What a dill-hole I am. Who forgets their vacation days? I guess being gone a month really threw me off. I marched into my bosses office and said, "Do you have any idea how dedicated I am?" He instantly said, "I know you are dedicated." I think he was preparing for whatever assault I was about to unleash. I said, "I am so dedicated, I worked right through my vacation days!" I just sat there, feeling robbed and stupid. I mean, I still get the days, but still, I could have had Friday off and it was beautiful outside! Well, better luck this week, I guess.
In other news, my husband is pissing me off. And, I'll tell you why. He is diabetic. I have been begging him to eat better so he can lose weight and get off his meds. I've been nagging him for years. About a week ago I took him to my Dr. Diet Nazi and her Cheese Whore medical assistant. They laid down the law, it was a sort of come to Jesus conversation. Or, in Will's case, a come to cheeses conversation. Anyway, he finally listened and he's been eating right and his blood sugars have been awesome. To add insult to injury, he walks into the bathroom tonight, after a full day of eating and drinking fluids and he steps on the scale and he is down about five pounds. And, were not talking about his first thing in the morning, all naked weight. This is his heaviest of the day. So, that means, he really has lost more than five pounds and I HATE HIS GUTS. That bastard finally listens and then, oh, looky there, he practically farted and lost five pounds. Are you serious? This is proof that life is not fair. I demand a recount! I guess I'll just go forage on some lettuce and program my body to use the thigh master in my sleep and start taking laxatives. That ought to make me lose four tenths of a pound. I'm happy for him, but I hate his guts.
No comments:
Post a Comment