Tuesday, February 12, 2008

Clogged Drains? Call The Dancing Toaster

* today's fabulously insane title brought to you by the generating powers of this 'sentence generator'

I woke up this morning at 4:00am. On purpose.

And as I laid there, uneasily for fear of falling back asleep, I made plans to make sure I was in bed at mutha-effin 8 pm tonight because holy cow was I tired as shit.

No more semi-but-not-really-because-I'm-getting-older-so-they-only-feel-late nights for me. At least not for awhile.

Six hours! I got six hours of sleep, that should have been enough. But noooooooooooo.


In other Not So Exciting News, I got my fourth write-up this morning. (Scroll down two posts for reference.) We get 8 write-ups in a sixth month period. So 4 more in the next five months and I'm out of here.

Yeah, I've sort of racked them up quickly. But I've got a plan! I set Mr. Outlook Email Calendar Dude to remind me every break period now. He flashes me his little warning signs that say:


I really hope someone tries to schedule a meeting with me through outlook for a time overlapping one of my breaks and sees the title of my 'busy meeting'. Hmmm... Maybe I should change the outlook reminder to:


I actually like the time clock nazi, so maybe I won't use that as a reminder.

I was joking with the guy who gives me the write-up sheets to sign, asking if I was winning out of all the other employees. I've got a good head start on most, and am tied with another guy in the department for the lead. I don't think the supervisor thought it was as funny as I did. And really, I don't think its funny either. But I don't want to get depressed/freaked out by it so... humor wins!

But despite all that, today will be a good day, as evidenced by the following conversation.

Mr. Desk Neighbor is sitting at his desk, reading his emails.

"Oh," he says.

I ignore him, and my own emails, and continue to type up this blog post.

"Oh wow."

"Huh?" Because now he has my interest piqued.

"If Mike was a girl I'd be tonguing him."


"He sent me all the information I was asking for. Plus more!"

Mr. Desk Neighbor printed out his email, ran over to pick up the papers, ooooh'd and ahhhh'd over it for a few seconds, then came over to show me all the goodies this 'Mike' guy had emailed him. He was like a proud papa showing off his baby spud.

Then he said, "I'm going to go see if I can French him over the phone."

I hope Mr. Desk Neighbor never reads these posts. Especially if it stops him from giving me gems like these that really make my day.

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