The Cleansing of the Admin

It was a crazy week last week and a crazy weekend. I figured, before life got any crazier, I needed to regain some control.  One of the places I seriously need to do that is in the arena of nutrition. I needed to be taking my vitamins everyday and doing my morning shake, which I hadn't done for a few weeks.  Time to get supplies and get back on track.

I headed on in to the local supplement store to get some protein powder and some protein bars. I noticed they had re-arranged since last time I was there and had some new stuff.  I'm walking up and down the aisle with Shark Bait and I see the cleansing product aisle.  I've never really done a cleanse, but maybe I should?  One of the boxes just spoke to me, "Tired? Bloated? No Energy? Depressed?"  Well, hell yes, check, check, check and check!  Clearly I should consider it.  Shark Bait was a bit skeptical.  I asked him what he thought and he says, "Well, if you want to shit yourself for a week, go ahead, but that should do the trick."  This is the kind of support I've come to expect from Shark Bait.  I started to walk away, but I couldn't stop looking at that box that listed off all my problems in bold print.  Well, not all of them, but at least four of them.  I moved back over and looked at them again.  I started reading boxes and they all said "it" should happen "gently."  Well, if they are saying gently, then I can do gently, right?  But what is the definition of gently?  Like, I'll be shitting so fast that I won't notice it is happening?  Like, it will ooze out?  Will it be as relaxing as petting a soft rabbit?  I just didn't know.

It was about that time that one of the salespeople that works there asked if I had any questions.  Nicely dressed guy, about my age, maybe a little older, gray hair pulled back in a ponytail.  Kind of a hippy kind of guy. What do I have to lose?  I said, "So, if I am going to do a cleanse, is there any of these you would recommend over the others?"  He gets down to it right away, "What's your goal? Weight-loss? Just detoxing? You blocked up?"  I told him just feeling sluggish.  He says, "Well, let me ask you, how many times do you poop a day?"  This just got personal.  I'm glad he was comfortable with this. I told him my regime.  He says, "Well, you should be pooping three times a day."  Wait, that's a lot of time in the bathroom.  I mean, how full of shit am I?  He then proceeds to go into detail about the stance I should take when I poop.  As I'm watching him squatted on the floor assuming the position, I'm nodding and actively listening, because damn it, this guy...this guy gives a shit.  He then tells me I should purchase a Squatty Potty so that I may always achieve a perfect shitting experience.  I didn't see those on the shelf next to the cleansing products, so I passed on that suggestion.  I did, however, decide to purchase a 14-day cleanse called "Flush & Be Fit."  The Poop Master, as I shall call him henceforth, said it was a good one. He did say if things started moving too fast, to just stop the cleanse until things returned to normal.  He also wanted to make sure I didn't buy this one product up there on the shelf because it's a laxative and if people use it all the time, their intestines will just stop slowing the the process and stop doing the thing they do to create poop and it will just shoot out your ass because there is no control.  And then, if you stop using it, your body just plugs up and won't go at all.  NOTED.  NOT buying that.  I don't need an ass that doesn't give a shit...literally speaking.

On Sunday morning  I took my first two pills and prayed it was going to be okay.  The Poop Master said that it wouldn't happen within hours, but that within a day or so, I should notice some movement.  Shark Bait had asked The Poop Master if I was going to be running for the bathroom as soon as it hit, but The Poop Master didn't think it would be that dire.  And, as it turned out, Sunday went pretty smoothly.  I drank a ton of water and had no episodes.  Which is good, because we had to go to Walmart and, as usual, I found the slowest cashier. She is examining each item, struggling with the bags, all the while moving at the pace of a depressed sloth.  I was purchasing some panty liners and she holds them up, looks confused and says to me, "is it okay if these touch other stuff?"  I looked confused, but said yes, that would be fine.  I mean, what exactly was going to happen if the package of panty liners touched my can of chicken broth?  Maybe there's a story.  Maybe she's heard something.  I mean, strange stuff goes down there.  Anyway, I digress.  The happenings at Walmart is surely another blog in itself.

This morning, I got up feeling decent.  Still no major issues. I'm thinking this cleansing is no big deal.  I got this.  I headed on in to work and had my morning chit-chat with my boss.  We talk about bathroom stuff and a bunch of other stuff equally personal on the regular, so I told her I got the cleanse. She says, "Whoa, okay...well, if you disappear, I'll know where you are."  I said, yeah, don't ask any questions.  She goes on, "You know, it's going to stink really bad, too. Like, BAD."  Well, good to know. 

Things were going pretty good for the first hour or so.  Then, there was a noticeable shift.  I felt a little weird.  As the morning progressed, just a lot of going to the bathroom to process all the water I was drinking.  During the last visit I had put a big hole in my nylons by accident, so at this point, if things went south, no reason to be gentle, damage has been done. 

Anyway, I ate lunch and was doing okay. I took my noontime pills, as directed, but I was not feeling well.  Valerina came to see if I wanted to take a walk outside and I declined.  I didn't think it was safe.  I started to do some deep breathing. I wasn't sure if I was going to throw up or shit myself.  I squirmed in my chair.  I told Valerina I would walk as far as the elevators with her, but that I needed to hit the can.  We get all the way over to the hallway and I notice the bathroom is closed for cleaning. I think Valerina could sense the fear.  She said quickly, "here, let's go up to the 5th floor, you'll be safe there."  I went up there and found refuge in an empty bathroom.  Thank you, baby Jesus.  What transpired next I'm going to leave out, but I will say this, when the boss is right, the boss is right.  I finally came out of the stall, half leaning, half staggering.  I washed my hands, did some deep breathing and left the bathroom kind of like John Wayne in a western flick where he had been shot in the gut.  I felt remorse for what I had done in there.  I hope no one was going to be needing that bathroom soon.  I would like to state, for the record, that no poop was smeared on the wall, the seat, the floor, etc.  I was able to keep it all where it needed to go without finger painting like those before me.  Just clarifying.

I got back down to my desk and I messaged Valerina.  I said, "There was just an intestinal reckoning in there."  She said, "Oh, okay, cuz the janitor is in there now."  That poor bastard just took one for the team. Bless his heart. I continued my breathing exercises.  Suddenly there was a noise in my stomach.  Oh shit.  Jurassic World was happening in my belly.  I feared what would come next.  I continued to breathe. I could do this.  I was going to be okay and I would not shit myself.  Not on this day, not in this chair.  I'm stronger than this.  The box said it would be gentle! 

I finished my day without further incident, but I'm not going to lie, I have 12 more days to go and I'm scared. This isn't over. Here's hoping I don't have to "stop until it returns to normal," because I'm like one of those shit spreaders the farmers use out in the fields on dairy farms. However, it is comforting to know there is an 800# I can call if the shit hits the fan to get advice from people like The Poop Master.

Fingers crossed, people.  Fingers crossed.  And cheeks clenched.  I could potentially have buns of steel after this.  Win-win.

Over-Achieving & The Dying Bunny

It's been said before and I'll say it again, any day that starts out with me being told to order pizza is not going to be a good day. Proven fact.  Today goes down in the books as substantiating that evidence.

My boss has been gone for a week, but returned today.  She had not been in the building even an hour when I hear from her office, "let's get Cassondra in here...Cassondra, can you come in here?"  I know the tone in her voice, this isn't going to go well for me.  "So, don't you think that everyone has done such a great job on their decorations that they should all have pizza?"  It's not like I was in shock.  I followed up with, "today?"  Indeed, she wanted it today.  This isn't my first rodeo, I got this.  No big deal.  I go out to my desk to order a buttload of pizza.

About 20 minutes goes by and my boss comes out, "have you sent the email out yet about the pizza?"  I give her the growl, "no...as soon as I'm done ordering...I will."  She scampers away to spread cheer in other places.  I've now ordered the pizza and am composing the email.  My boss walks up behind me, reads over my shoulder and says, "That email is kind of boring, it doesn't have the normal Cassondra flair, no funnies, no pictures..."  I growled a little stronger this time, "I'm not done yet, stop managing me."  She giggles and goes in her office.  I decided she was right, it did need a little something...I added a line especially for my boss, "...no one loves pizza more than [my boss].  She loves it so much she would celebrate her colonoscopy with pizza if she could!"  Flair added.  Insert picture. Click Send.

"Hey boss, I sent the email...did you see I added flair?"  She read it and then glared at me.  I smiled and left her office. You. Are. Welcome.

An hour later the pizza arrives.  I receive a phone call, "yeah, you ordered some pizza?"  I said that yes, I had.  He continued, "I'm here, but is someone going to come out and get it, because it's kind of a lot of pizza, I can't really carry it."  Mind you, every time I order it, they always bring it in.  Lucky me, I get the under-achiever today.  I grab some manual labor and some carts and off we all go to get the pizza.  Mission accomplished.

As I settle back in to my desk, the phone rings.  It's apparently one of the admins from one of the new states my company just acquired. She had questions...and an accent, a really strong accent.  I can't be certain what all of her questions even were.  You see, I thought I had done a good thing by creating a Welcome to Being An Admin at Magicland tips and tricks document.  I had shared it with about 10 admins that just got absorbed into my company and were likely clueless on our policies and procedures, as we all are in the beginning.  It was meant to be a friendly, helpful thing.  Apparently the 10 shared it with others and so on.  I guess I didn't think it through as much as I should have because here I am having a conversation about what helium is, where I live and how do we input worked hours into the system for technicians.  Shit just got real.  My boss comes out and says, "How many people did you send that to???!!!  If ever there was a time to under achieve, now is that time!"  Well, I guess being nice is not the best policy.  I mean, I've always suspected it, but now I know.  FML.

I was a bit irritated about the way the whole day was going, so I took a moment to just turn around at my desk with my back to the computer and take a break.  I sat there for a few minutes and then one of the supervisors came over and we chit-chatted a few minutes.  My boss comes out of her office all irritated and says, "Hey, I pinged you, why didn't you answer, I needed help??"  I looked her, smiled and said, "Sorry, I was under achieving, like you suggested."  I got another glare, but I smiled back and tilted my head and batted my eyes.  She wasn't having it, she turned and walked away.

I decided to head to the "ladies" room to pee.  I go in to trusty stall number one and there it is, all over the seat, piss.  I freaking hate it.  Another assault by the fire hose vagina bandit.  Ladies, and I use that term loosely, get it together, stop pissing on the seats!  I beg you.  I returned to my desk and one of my co-workers asked why I looked irritated (like I need a reason) and I told him about the bathroom.  He says, "Well, I guess loose lips really do sink ships."  Shut up.  Just...shut up.

I sit back down and I open my email.  There is one in ALL CAPS in the subject line.  I almost couldn't believe my eyes when I saw it.  Subject: DYING BUNNY IN PARKING LOT.  Am I being punked?  I mean, I've been asked to handle A LOT of stuff, a lot of shit.  a lot of utter nonsense but this might be the grand daddy of "other duties as needed."  I read the email and it was from one of our kind-hearted employees who saw a bunny out on the side of the walkway in the parking lot and it was injured and trying to run away, but it couldn't and it had blood on it.  People were poking at it and taking video of it and she was very upset.  She had called the animal control office, but no one had answered her. She tried another number, but no luck and she had to get back in the office because she didn't want to be late, so she wanted to know if I could go get the bunny and make some phone calls to get someone to care for it.  I just sat there, mouth a little agape.  Other duties as needed.  I mean, it isn't that I didn't care about the bunny, but...what exactly should I do?  Just then Naked And Unafraid shows up and says that she will go look for the bunny.  I emailed the tender heart back that I was sending re-enforcements.

The tragic turn in this story is that we have a center chat open all day for the reps to ask questions and get peer and supervisor support on issues they may have. Well, word of the bunny got out and the chat  turned dark.  The rednecks were talking about how good rabbit tastes and how it's tender and how you just put BBQ sauce on it.  It was not talk for the tender heart.  That bunny wasn't going to stand a chance.

I mean, the whole situation, while sad, was kind of funny, I mean, seriously.  So, I forward the email to our Building Dude, being kind of sarcastic, and I say, "Should I enter a ticket for this?"  I'm hilarious, right?  I get a response back that says, "Well, it's kind of late in the day, but go ahead and put a ticket in, I can send an engineer out there tomorrow to take a look."  I sat there stunned.  What?  I mean....what?  First of all, it's a bunny, hardly a corporate crisis.  Second of all, it's likely in it's final hours.  Third of all, what the hell is sending an engineer out there TOMORROW going to accomplish?  It's like, when I don't think the day can get any more ridiculous, IT DOES.

I didn't even mention about how my work place is all decorated for this Hunger Games decorating contest we are having.  The group that is the Fishing District has decorated their area so beyond what anyone would ever imagine and to top it off, everyone was wearing paper clam shell bikini tops (over their clothes) and green plastic table cloths as skirts.  And there was a bubble machine.  I mean, it's like I was stuck in a fun house all freaking day, except it wasn't fun!!!

So, anyway, that's my day in a nutshell.  Normally I can say that "at least no one died," but honestly, I don't think I can today.  I'm pretty sure that bunny is dead.  Naked And Unafraid could not find it, so who knows what became of it.

All I know is, one thing I learned today is that I am an over-achiever and I need to be an under-achiever. Roger that. Message received.