Miss Directed. Weight Loss

Never, ever, EVER go to the regional passport agency if you can possibly avoid it.  My “appointment” was at 10:30.  Come to find out, all an “appointment” gets you is a place in a line 10 miles long.  All it does is guarantee you will be seen on that day.  They schedule 80 appointments every hour That would mean that if all 10 lanes were open, each appointment should last about 7 minutes.  There were 6 out of 10 lanes open on average, and that would mean an appointment of just over 4 minutes.  Only with each appointment you can include up to 7 family members.  And there were lots of families.  LOTS OF FAMILIES WITH SMALL, SCREAMING CHILDREN.

I arrived at 10, and found the line out of the passport office and wrapped more than halfway around the floor’s corridors.  I was standing between a really friendly chick and a cute guy I am pretty sure was gay (if not, he was a seriously gay straight guy).  We ended up chatting and keeping each other entertained for the 90 minutes it took us to get into the actual passport office, and then the next hour it took us to get through the remaining snake line to verify we had everything we needed and get assigned a number.  Then, and only then, do you get to wait anywhere from 10-40 minutes before seeing a booth attendant who will have you sign everything and pay them. 

We all finished around the same time, but the girl didn’t need her passport today, so she opted to go back tomorrow to pick it up.  Our pickup time was listed as 2:30, and it was 12:30, so I headed out to lunch.  I was back at the passport office just over an hour later.  My new guy friend came in shortly after me, and he helped keep me awake while we waited for 2:30.  Because, of course, the one day of the year when I absolutely needed to bring a book with me, I forgot.  I ALWAYS have a book in my car!  Not today.  Arg.  Anyway, 2:30 came and went.  The screaming children of the morning were now either a) screaming louder because they missed nap time or b) passed out in their parent’s laps.  I liked the b children much better.

I finally received my passport at 4:27.  I walked the 5 blocks back to my car (which was really fun in the morning – when it was pouring and I had no umbrella, and damn you Rhianna for ruining that word because every time I use it I get your lame ass song in my head) and now here I am.  Pretending to do work. 

But you know what?  My trip is really going to happen now since I got my passport sorted.  And that? Totally makes it worth it.

I’m not someone that loses paperwork at work.  I’m just not.  Sometimes I’ll put something in a “safe place” and forget where that is for a day or so, but I ALWAYS remember where it is.  The way I keep from losing things is that I generally leave them exactly where they are until I’m ready to do something with them.  This usually means my inbox on my desk.  If paperwork just needs to be entered into the system and there is no time rush, things can sit in my inbox for a month or more until I get around to entering them.  But when I get the time, I know exactly where they are because I haven’t moved them. 

I had two such things in my inbox a couple of weeks ago.  I noted that they were there before I left for Scotland.  I placed them face down in the bottom of my tray and then went about my business.  There was a big stack of stuff on top of them.

Last week when I got back, I went to get those documents.  I can’t find them.  I’ve been through every folder, every file, every scrap of paper I have within a 10 foot radius of my desk, and nothing.  I’ve emailed my boss and VP and determined neither took anything out of my inbox while I was on vacation.  And now, blind panic has set in.

These two documents could cause serious problems for us on the audit coming up next week.  SERIOUS.  As in, I could lose my job over this.  So if you know anyone that needs an (apparently incompetent) admin, please let me know.  Because I seem to be totally fucked here

Okay.  Correct me if I’m wrong, but this IS the year 2007, is it not?  I mean, we, as a society, are pretty technologically advanced, right?  We DO have the capability to retrieve seemingly lost data and such, right? 

Earlier this week I killed my work computer.  I came in Monday morning and it wouldn’t turn on.  Well, it turned on, but there was no information going from the tower to the monitor.  So I got a new computer.  No big deal, right?  Until I opened my email.  And there was NOTHING.  I wasn’t really concerned about this. I figured IT would go in and find my email on the email server and pop it into my new mailbox. 

Only, come to find out, we don’t HAVE an email server.  WTF?

Who doesn’t have an email server?  I work at a company where it is required that objective evidence (read: a paper trail) be kept for everything done, every decision made.  The evidence has to be kept anywhere from three to 10 years.  That’s a long time to keep things.  As a result, I was encouraged to keep all of my email.  Fine.  No problem.  But if that’s going to be the case, shouldn’t that email be backed up somewhere?  I’ve been told that I may not be able to get my email back if my hard drive is messed up – once the email pops up in my inbox, it’s on my hard drive and nowhere else. 

Fucking great!  I have a few things that I do in weekly cycles here.  I save up all emails telling me about file distributions and print them all out on Monday when I get to work.  Well, last week’s distribution emails are gone, and I have no idea which ones were made.  I also store up returned vendor surveys and print them as a batch to give my boss once a week.  I send out about 20 surveys a week.  Some people respond right away, some take months.  I received about 8 last week that hadn’t been printed.  I have no idea who sent them, and no way to find out.  That information is just lost.

I wish the company leadership would get over themselves and buy this company Outlook.  Oh yeah, we don’t even have Outlook.  Not even Outlook Express.  We use fucking NETSCAPE here. 

In some respects, this company is so far technologically advanced it amazes me.  In other ways, we are so in the dark ages.  Grrr…

So yesterday morning I was listening to the radio on my way to work.  My normal station had a commercial on, so I was flipping. I tuned to another station just in time to hear that there has been a change to the Texas Pledge.  Until quite recently, the Texas pledge went like this:

Honor the Texas flag.
I pledge allegiance to thee.
Texas, one and indivisible.

Upon hearing the pledge had been changed, I was nearly ecstatic.  Why?  Because I figured I knew what the change was.  See, for years this pledge has bugged the ever living shit outta me because Texas, as defined by it’s constitution, is the ONLY STATE IN THE UNION that can be divided into five separate states if its people so choose.  So that “one and indivisible” bit?  Kinda stupid.  Could work for any other state, but not for this one.

But is that the change?  NOPE!

Instead, Texas has set itself up for controversy galore.  The leadership of this state have taken a stand firmly in the “We <3 Bush!” camp (as if we didn’t know that’s where they stood already?) and added a line to the pledge.  This fall, children all over Texas will be reciting our “new and improved!” (can’t you taste the sarcasm?) pledge:

Honor the Texas flag.
I pledge allegiance to thee.
One state, under God,
Texas, one and indivisible.

After the first caller called in and said that she didn’t care about the new line because all religions pray to some kind of god, so why should this matter, I turned it off.  Okay, honestly I didn’t turn it off until after I yelled at her that all religions pray to some form of higher power, but only Christians call it God.  Bet the bitch would choke if her daughter had to say “One state, under Allah” or “under Buddha.” If we’re going for mass religious appeal, perhaps it should say instead “One state, under some higher power” or even just “under a god.” A lot could get solved by just losing that capital letter, I’d wager.

Sometimes I’m embarrassed to be a Texan.

Dear Cough,

I am writing to say that I am officially over you.  That’s right.  I. Am over.  YOU.  I haven’t had a decent night of sleep in three weeks.  Just last night I fell asleep around 11:30, woke up at 2, coughed and cried and coughed until 3:30, and then finally relented and got out of bed.  I turned the air down, got some water, took some pirin tablets, and climbed back in bed.  Only after all that moving around, I was awake.  And so it was that I watched the minutes slowly tick down until it was time for me to get up.  The last time I saw the clock before falling into fitful sleep, it was 5:37. 

I am a zombie at work these days.  I really feel like the walking dead.  I’m pretty sure I only have one lung left in my chest, as surely the other one has disintegrated and slowly been being expelled during these coughing fits.  I know I have at least one lung left because, well, a) I’m still half alive and breathing, and b) I can feel that annoying tickle itch thing right at the top of my right lung. 

I fear I must learn to coexist with you, Cough.  If that is the case, I have but one request.  If you could just let me have at least one full night of sleep a week, I will stop complaining.  Just give me one.  That’s all I ask.  I think the terms I’m setting forth are reasonable, so leave me the fuck alone tonight, would ya?

Hoping that this, my friend, is what they call closure,

MissDirected

So a few nights ago I was watching telly, and for once it was something actually running real time because I was watching commercials.  (Side note:  Who would’ve guessed that an ad junkie like me would one day enjoy fast forwarding through commercials.  I used to LOVE the suckers!) And as I’m sitting there, wishing the commercials would hurry up, and wondering why whenever I’m flipping between two shows they always somehow manage to do their commercial breaks at exactly the same time, an ad for Radio Shack came on my screen.

The ad shows two remote control cars go out a door, down a walkway, turn onto the sidewalk, turn up another walkway, and then start ramming into a front door.  This, right away, pissed me off. I’d be hella peeved if someone was ramming a remote control car into my front door.  Anyway, a little grandmotherly old lady comes to the door, and looks around.  When she finally looks down, what appears to be an ipod turns on and there is a video of three kids singing “We Wish You A Merry Christmas.” The lady smiles and laughs, and looks to her left…

Where the three kids are waving in the window next door.

Since when did we, as a society, become so lazy that Christmas caroling became dependent upon technology?  Huh?  HUH?  Riddle me that, Batman.  If I’d been that old lady, I would have scooped up the ipod, mouthed “Thanks for the gift,” kicked the cars over so they’d have to come over anyway to pick them up, and closed the door. 

What do you mean I’m going to be the old lady whose house kids hate walking by?  I have no idea where you’d get that idea!

And another thing that’s bothering me… Why are there two cars in the ad?  The ipod is only in one car.  Why is there a superfluous car? 

These are the things that keep me up at night, people.  It’s a sad, sad, world I live in.

Today can fuck right off, as far as I’m concerned.  I started today in such a happy mood.  First came the T announcement, which made me heartsick.  Then came a massive screaming match with Direct TV.  Please.  For the love of god.  Do not EVER get Direct TV (which I totally want to abbreviate as DTV, but I just can’t do that because it would taint such a great movie association).  My receiver broke, and they sent me a new one.  No problem.  Only now the new one is doing what the old one was doing.  And they charged me a $25 shipping charge they never bothered to mention.  And they upped my account to a premium account which is $15 more a month than my current account.  AND they tacked on HBO, Cinemax, and Showtime for an additional $24 a month.  The guy I talked to probably can’t sit down comfortably I chewed his ass up so bad. 

In addition to all that shite, it’s supposed to pour down rain all day tomorrow.  While I’m moving.  The stupid fucking plant lady hasn’t moved her damn cacti.  And am I packed?  NOPE!  I have so much to do tonight I am overwhelmed, which just makes me want to curl into a ball on the couch.

It’s gonna be a loooooong night.  Followed by a very early morning, as the movers arrive at 8 a.m.

This year, right after the audit, I caught The Death.  I went in late Monday, left early Wednesday, called in Thursday, and had already taken today off for vacation.  Because my sister lands in town in about an hour.  I don’t even want to drive over to Kingwood to see her because I don’t want to give this to her, mom, or dad.  I feel like I’m in a fog.  I’m not so much achy as… well… I feel like I’m walking through water.  I’ve been doing water aerobics for the last four days.  I’m exhausted, but thanks to hindered breathing I’m not really sleeping well.  I feel like there’s a big weight on my face because my sinuses are so congested.  The neti pot?  Yeah.  That water can’t even find a way through anymore.  Constant headache.  A continuous low grade fever.  Good times.

Oh, and that weight on my face thing?  I came up with the weight part after I called in Thursday and had the following conversation with my boss.

Boss Man: Hello?
MD: Hi.  I don’t think I’m gonna make it in today.
BM: Really?  Because you sound totally fine. (/sarcasm)
MD: I’m sure I do, but I spent my whole night taking 15 minute cat naps, and it feels like somebody is sitting on my face there’s so much sinus pressure.  Wait…
BM: HAHAHAHAHA!
MD: I so didn’t mean it like that!
BM: Well, I’ll let you get back to bed then. 
MD: Thanks.  And shut up!

So.  This year I said something about someone sitting on my face, and last year (granted, whilst we were all drunk) I made some snarky remark about multiple orgasms.  It’s hard having a boss only a year older than you.  Especially one who went to the same high school as you and with whom you share mutual friends.  It’s easy to forget he’s your boss because of all that. 

So yeah.  Back to bed with me, so that I can maybe muster up the energy to drive to the Wood later.

1.  My best friend is Erin.  She is Extraordinary.
2.  I have known her for 13 years.
3.  My best friend and I have been through a lot of shit together.  She is my rock.
4.  If two boys walk in a room, we never are attracted to the same one. 
5.  She likes soggy fries.  I like crispy fries.
6.  I can understand her when she laughs and tries to talk at the same time.
7.  We will be Angela Bassett and Whoopi Goldberg in How Stella got her groove back when we are older.  Without that whole death part, I hope.
8.  How about a few food factoids?
9.  I hate mac and cheese.
10.  This does not make me un-American (as all mac and cheese lovers like me to believe).

1. My best friend is Sarah.
2. We’ve known each other for almost 6 years.
3. People often confuse us for sisters, twins, or each other.
4. I began expressing an interest in British music mostly so she’d think I was cool.  She didn’t know that until just now.
5. She is the person I can talk to about things I would never talk about with anyone else. I’d likely be lost without her.
6. Erin is my oldest friend.
7. We’ve known each other for 17 years – more than half our lives.
8. She has first hand knowledge of more embarrassing stories about me than just about anyone.
9. We have a very bizarre dynamic, but we always have a blast together.
10. We still plan on going to Jamaica together later in life.
11. A good black and white cookie or cupcake can cure just about any bad day.
12. I hate wine.  Except for dessert wines and Boone’s Farm – neither of which really taste like wine.
13. I think pudding is vile.
14. If I had to choose one food to eat every night for a year, it would be pork chops. I could TOTALLY be a porkchopatarian.
15. I still hate mac and cheese.  I am still no less of an American because of this.