Category: Work

Humor, Work

When It Rains…etc. etc. etc.

There exists somewhere the real quote but for the life of me, I can’t find it.  Here’s a rough overview.  “When God wants to punish someone, he gives them what they asked for.”
– poorly paraphrased by C.

For myself, I’m sort of wishing the world had spun off into the screaming void.  Mondays often have that effect on me, but today has been particularly challenging, pumpkins.

Ever since the term ended I have been literally begging for more work to do, and finally Lt. Citrus informed me that I would be assisting him to prepare for a campus showcase in which our department would participate.  My delight quickly turned to dismay when it transpired that I would be in charge of making posters and handout cards in the hundreds.  Why dismay, you ask?  Because in order to get these made in the cheapest way possible I would have to use the campus print and copy center.

Oh. I beg to differ.

Only someone who has spent the hours I have – cutting out hundreds of laminated booklets, having packets made up (only to have an officer come to me hours later and say that he now wanted another version instead – after approving the first version multiple times), stamping, printing, reconfiguring, scanning, and weeping – can comprehend the sense of futility the print and copy center brings me.  I am inevitably helped by a well meaning but still-being-trained-sorry! freshman who can’t operate the machinery.  The power goes out in the middle of a massive scanning job.  Against all odds and common sense my projects are cut the wrong way sending half pages (containing words and data!) into a garbage bin.

Already they have had to reprint the posters I requested because they came out with myriad ink lines streaking them – the employee didn’t notice these glaring gashes of black and blue – and they have had to re-cut 500 cards.  And to cap it all off, as I was coming back to the office, the heavens opened and the rain.  Came.  Down.

Sigh.  Cheer me up, ducklings, any fun stories of customer service?

Friends, Humor, Work

The End of the World – And I Feel Fine

“And after this there is void.  Absolutely nothing…except, of course, for the sweet trolley and our fine selection of Aldebaran liqueurs.  And now, at the risk of putting a damper on the wonderful sense of doom and futility here, well I’d like to welcome a few parties.”
– Douglas Adams

Barring those who have, in fact, been living under rocks you will no doubt be aware that according to some, the End Times kick off tomorrow.  Sorry about those brand new, still green bananas you bought and the fact that you just cleaned your house.  I, for one, am disappointed.  Where are the zombies?!

Editor’s Note:  Here they are.  In theory.  I wish more survival classes had been taught with a dash of humor.

In any event, no I am not one of those who thinks the world will collapse into the screaming blackness of nothing tomorrow morning.  But it’s a slow day at work, minions, and so Wise and I banded together and sold Susie on the idea of an End of the World/Zombie Apocalypse/It’s Friday party.  Cupcakes provided.

Anyone have a good “End of the World” story to share?  Here’s one.  My family never freaked out about Y2K and generally found the panic rather funny.  A couple neighbors tried to warn us of the perils that awaited (some religious, some not) but we politely thanked them for their concern and went along as usual.  The evening of December 31st, my parents went off to their normal New Years’ Eve party and Peregrine came over to help me babysit my siblings.  After they’d gone to bed we stayed up watching old monster movies (Godzilla featured heavily) and black and white films.  When midnight came we annoyed all our neighbors by running into the yard and shouting, “HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

Then, quite suddenly, there was a massive, crashing roll of thunder right over our house and a crack of lightening.  We glanced at each other.
“D’you think…?”
“Nope.  But…”
“Back inside?”
“Yes!”

See you Monday, kittens.

Humor, Work

It’s Raining, It’s Pouring

“Let’s just go walking in the rain.”
– Billie Holiday

I only wish I was snoring, dumplings!  Spring has really lingered this year – which I don’t mind in the least.  I hate that the American West catapults from blizzards to blazing several times in the same week.  If we can put off broiling heat for another month, I’ll enjoy the downpour.  It’s been going for three days now with little sign of stopping.

The only thing that I don’t like about rain is that I’m an adult and can’t go play in puddles, I have to be responsible and sit at a desk that’s nowhere near a window so I can’t even get a whiff of that fabulous rain smell.  Rainy days should not be spent at work, they should be spent at home in comfy pajama pants with a cup of tea or hot chocolate and a book.

Humor, Secretary, Work

Bring Me Your Gold, Virgins, and Chocolate!

“Next to excellence is the appreciation of it.”
~ William Makepeace

Being a secretary is largely thankless.  It doesn’t matter that you can’t use a fax machine without my help and haven’t the faintest clue how to order your own printing paper, I will still be lower on the totem poll.  It’s worrying, poodles.

But it’s Office Administrative Professionals Week and Susie bought us all cupcakes to celebrate our awesomeness.  I’m munching on a chocolate cake with cream cheese frosting and Nutella stuffed little tribute to the fact that we are good at our jobs.  Cheers!

Basely stolen from the ever fabulous Admin Gal (see here: http://administrativemadness.blogspot.com)
Humor, Office, Secretary, Work

Paper. Work.

“Oh, my giddy aunt!”
– C.

Good.  Bleeding.  Grief.

We are in that inverted paradox that exists on university campuses, the storm before the quiet.  The term just ended and people are scattering like insects, and I am kept busy because lots of them need paperwork done for bar exams, licensing boards, visas, internships, and jobs.  Soon they will all be gone and silence will descend until Fall term – disturbed only by the occasional conference and the heathen invaders those entail.

The great trouble with this need for paperwork, is the propensity people have to leave it all to the last minute.  For example, we have designated times for fingerprinting.  And yet, invariably at this time of year, at 2 o’clock when the sign says we should be done, four or five people fall through the door panting and beg us to make an exception and fingerprint them just this once.  And I inevitably do.  Because I am a nice person, damn it.

But there are some days that this high-minded benevolence mixes with irritation, today was one of them.

This poor girl came in and we spent nearly an hour trying to help her out.  The trouble was that it was awfully difficult to help her, because she’d made a right mess of her job application.  First of all she hadn’t filled out any of the paperwork that needed to be done before I could take her prints, then it transpired that she needed traditional ink fingerprints and not digitally taken ones so I had to beg an officer for help, and then she discovered that she still didn’t have all of the things she needed to send off with said fingerprints anyway!  It turns out she hadn’t actually read through her hiring packet – which, if my job depended on it, I think I would have taken the time to do.

Emotionally stunted, useless lump that I am, I patted her arm awkwardly and promised to do my best to help her as she sobbed all over my counter, but inwardly I shook a schoolmarm-ish finger at her.  “And what did we learn from this, my girl?”

Humor, Office, Work

I’m the Doctor

“We do have a zeal for laughter in most situations, give or take a dentist.”
~ Joseph Heller

Accustomed as we are to dealing with characters, you’d think we’d be a bunch of cynic old cranks unperturbed by any but the vilest of persons.  That we would have long ago reached the impossible to amuse, world weary, emotional wasteland of a DMV employee at 4:55pm on a Friday.  That we would have, literally, seen it all.

But let me tell you, pumpkins, when a wizened old man with his pants belted almost up to his ribs marches into your office, slaps his liver spotted hand down on the counter and declares roundly, “Hell, I’m John Smith, and I’m a dentist,” you crack a grin, sit back, and prepare to be entertained.

I'm not sure we can help you. Did you choose the correct police box?

And Doc Smith did not disappoint.  We all sat in rapt attention as he told nearly one dozen jokes in a row (several without a discernible punchline), used racially, sexually, and culturally insensitive language, and told us his life story.  He has been an Air Force reserve colonel and “FBI police officer,” owned his own dental practice (his teeth were more metal than organic, please note) and now owns a few apartment complexes.  Which, in the end, was what brought us to the purpose of his visitation (calling it a mere visit would simply not be adequate).  Apparently some kids who did not live in his buildings were using his parking lot and he wanted it to stop so, enterprising old cook that he was, he took himself to the nearest police station to purchase a car boot.

When we could get a word in between his jokes, we told him we were completely unable to help him, as we could not sell university owned equipment.  The best we could do was google some information for him and wish him the best of luck.  He stayed another ten minutes telling jokes and his adventures as an airline pilot before disappearing.  To parts unknown.

Best customer we’ve had in weeks!

Humor, Stupid People, Work

Can’t We All Just Get A Better Thought Process?

“It’s bad enough that everybody coming into this courtroom has to walk underneath a banner that says: “Read Your Bible!”  Your Honor, I want that sign taken down!  Or else I want another one put up – just as big, just as big letters – saying “Read Your Darwin!”
“That’s preposterous!”
“It certainly is.”
– Inherit the Wind, 1951

One of the most irritating, fatuous sort of accusations and complaints that gets flung at the police department is religious in nature.

You've been warned.

Editor’s Note: Just so we’re clear, this is not about the merits of religion, my ideas on it, or your ideas on it.  It is, as usual, about people behaving badly and thinking sloppily.  So let’s leave the trollish commenting to the dunces who sit at home of an evening and rant on CNN stories and youtube videos, alright?  Onward.

Humans, being what they are, seldom want to accept the effects of their actions.  But I find it continuous funny that persons raised in religious traditions  often try to use religion (which presumably is supposed to teach them some idea of philosophical, cosmic cause and effect) to get out of the consequences.

“I hope you read the Bible tonight and think about what you’ve done.  God would be ashamed of you!”  one gentleman tries to dodge arrest after we collar him for taking pictures up girls’ skirts.
“You can’t keep me away from my wife, God put me in charge of her,” an abusive husband foams at the mouth after we serve him a restraining order.
“Would Jesus write me this ticket?” another woman demands fiercely after being caught parking in a handicap area.

Guys, you make me part these traffic jammed chariots one more time, I'm turning this exodus around! I am not kidding!

I’ve read the Bible (among other holy books of various traditions), and the whole first half of it is a pretty long list of rules and the assorted punishments and consequences that come from breaking them.  Honestly, I suspect that if he’d thought of it, Moses might have made taking pictures up ladies’ skirts punishable, perhaps by a light stoning?  And though I have not personally met him, I am absolutely positive that the Jesus of religious tradition would not have parked in a handicapped stall.  Ever.

Throwing religion around as an excuse for bad behavior is certainly nothing new (hi, Crusades!), but I’m constantly perplexed by the petty ways people try to use it.  Religion, boiled down to its very, very, bare bones, purely-behavioral-and-not-at-all-about-morality basics, is all about actions and consequences.  If you are jerk in this life, you’ll come back in the next one as a mongoose.  If you do not obey certain behavioral strictures, you will continue to be alienated from God and His chosen people.  If you do not seek after enlightenment, you will never achieve nirvana.  Etc.

Ergo, trying to use any values system that teaches cause and effect to dodge your earned consequences is bad logic.  Stop it.

Humor, Law Enforcement, Work

There’s (Not) An App For That

“Don’t say anything online that you wouldn’t want plastered on a billboard with your face on it.”
– Erin Bury

Dear World At Large,

Hey!  We haven’t talked in a while, but you seem well and up to your old tricks, hence this little note of clarification.

Social Media - end of society? Not exactly. Misued and annoying? Definitely.

As we’ve discussed previously, technology is not always your friend.  Your Facebook, Twitter, and other social media are actually public information and can be used to bring your deeds (criminal or just criminally silly) to light.  However, we need to have an honest conversation about another side effect of your media habits.

This is a conversation I had yesterday:
“Hello, my backpack was stolen.”
“Alright, ma’am, you’ll need to come into our department to make a report to one of our -”
“No I don’t.”
“…Pardon?”
“I’m talking to you, aren’t I?  This is making a police report.”
“No, ma’am, to make a police report you must – except in very unique circumstances – speak to a police officer in person.  I’m not an officer, I’m a secretary.  I can give you limited advice and assistance, but that’s it.”
“Fine, put a police officer on the phone.”
“I can if you’d like, ma’am, but they will tell you the same thing: you’ll have to come into our office.”
“Seriously?!  [choice language censored]”

And surprisingly, not one of these adequately allow you to report a crime.

Last week I spoke to a gentleman on the phone, the conversation went thus:
“Hello, I’m looking at your website and I don’t see where I can report a crime.”
“Well, we have the option of reporting anonymous tips or voicing concerns online -”
“No, you don’t understand.  I’m being stalked by my ex-fiancee and I want to report it.”
“You’ll have to come into our office to do that, sir.”
“What?!  I can’t just send you an email and you take care of it?”
“No, sir.  Typically an officer will need to ask you many questions to adequately understand your situation, verify your identity, and work with you specifically to assist you.”
” [Expletive], can’t you guys just have an app or something?”

The truth is, dear World at Large, there are in fact some things that you still need to do face to face.  We may be moving towards that point, but there isn’t an app for everything.  You are still required to appear in person from time to time.  Give your thumbs a break and come and talk to me in real life, I’m charming!

Yours with love,
C.

Humor, Work

A Connoisseur of Human Folly

“Health, good humor and cheerfulness began to reappear…”
– Jane Austen

Work has been hard this week – I got good and angry and it took two days and an hour and a half conversation with my mother, another half hour with Venice, and yet another half hour with Margot to talk me off the ledge.  Amazing what good friends and three days will do to make you see the humor in something that at the beginning of the week seemed soul destroying!  Life’s deliciously funny, piglets, even the aggravations sometimes!

LIES.

Do you ever get into a rut of thinking?  I have lately.  I used to find everything funny, or at least amusingly ironic, but I’ve gotten a bit bogged down by the job again.  It’s hard to deal with criminals  across the counter and shockingly unpleasant people on the phone all day long and not get a bit irritated with humanity, but I’ve decided to try to not be as bothered by it.  Nothing will change by me banging my abnormally hard head against anything.

The government will likely shut down – which will be nastily inconvenient, but the ones who will look like real idiots are the politicians.  Grad School will be expensive, but J. and I are a pair of smart cookies who are perfectly capable of eating Ramen for a year.  It’s raining, but I’ve got a pretty cute pair of wellies.

All things considered, I’m chipper again, kittens!  Besides, being a misanthrope is exhausting!

Health, Humor, Weekend, Work

Walking. Wounded.

“Let us rise up and be thankful, for if we didn’t learn a lot today, at least we learned a little, and if we didn’t learn a little, at least we didn’t get sick, and if we got sick, at least we didn’t die; so, let us all be thankful.”
– The Buddha

Chinchillas!  I’ve just emerged from a four day bout with a sinus infection/cold/fever and things are still a bit woozy at chez Small Dog.

J. got it first, poor guy, and just when he was struggling free of it, bam!  I woke up Saturday morning with a fever and chills and it all went south from there.  No amount of vitamin C could put a crack in this thing and I ended up taking both Monday and Tuesday off of work – an unprecedented event.

Anyway, I may still not have hearing in my left ear, my throat may be clogged with gunk, and every time I stand up I may feel dizzy, but you should have seen the pile of work on my desk when I got in this morning!  I really couldn’t have left it another day.  Also, most daytime television is pretty terrible and I didn’t think I had it in me to watch The Price is Right one more time.

Small Dog’s Tips for Curing the Plague:

  1. Airborne.  I don’t care what anybody says, my clan swears by this stuff.
  2. Per Mum’s strict training, drink a large glass of water or orange juice every hour, on the hour to keep you hydrated and to clear out the grossness.
  3. Watch Jane Austen movies, or old black and white classics (my preference?  The Women – the 1939 version, avoid the 2008 remake like the very plague you are trying to expel).
  4. Ricolaaaaaaaaa cough drops.
  5. Chicken soup, not just for the soul.

Hope your weekend was a little more perky than mine.  What did you do?  Share and cheer me up a bit?