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Tag Archives: workplace anecdote

At Least I Was Writing Something

Yesterday was a Blogger’s Sick Day. I did not post, because I felt like crap. I almost did not post this morning, because I thought, “I don’t have anything to say. What is the point in yet another post where I offer a lame excuse about why I didn’t post yesterday.” Then I thought of something to say.

Long time readers know I write actual snail mail letters. At least, I don’t think I have mentioned that lately, but I do. This week, I have been working on a letter to my sister Diane, who also writes letters (in much prettier handwriting than mine, but never mind that now). I sat at the break table at work, before my shift started, writing. A co-worker walked by.

“You writing a novel?”

“Just a letter to my sister.”

“Nobody does that an more!”

“We do.”

The next day, it was my boss asking. He pointed out the existence of phone calls and Face Time.

I said, “Nobody wants to see this face for any length of time.”

He said I would be surprised at the faces that do it. It’s true. No face is so ugly that somebody, somewhere, isn’t happy to see it. I hope.

Next a co-worker asked me if I was writing a “journal of this place.” Certainly not! I guess this counts as a workplace anecdote, but this is not and has never been a work blog. That could get me in trouble with management.

A Trivial Post for Wuss-Out Wednesday

I thought I could avoid a Wuss-out Wednesday post, but it seems I was over-optimistic.  Right now, I am lucky I can remember it is Wednesday, and I am thankful it is not Monday or Tuesday.  What, you may ask, is my problem?  Well, you may ask it, but I do not have an answer.  I am just going to keep typing till dinner time and hit Publish.

OK, after I typed in that paragraph, I just sat here and couldn’t think of what else to say.  I know, what a surprise.  I wanted to go to my Media Library and find some monster pictures, but how many times a week can I get away with that?  Maybe two?

I’m not familiar with this artist, but I think he is reminiscent of Hirschfeld.

This picture reminded me of something that happened at work today.  A co-worker said to me, “Hey, know-it all!”  I was sorry to be called this, because I do not think I act like a know-it-all.  I told him that I know many things (well, I do) but am not a know-it-all.  After a little more back and forth about this, he came to his question, “What is the Munster’s address?”

“1313 Mockingbird Lane.”  It was the damnedest thing. I didn’t think I knew that! Then I remembered, “Oh yeah, Mockingbird Lane,” and when I opened my mouth to say that, I remembered 1313.

Maybe I should go to a trivia night somewhere sometime.  Then again, there is no guarantee they would ask something I would magically remember.  As I often say, all of my knowledge is quite trivial, but I don’t usually do well at trivia.

And now I am over 250 words.  What a stupid post this has been! I repeat, what is my problem?

Here is Nosferatu, trying to remember where the Munsters live.

I’ll just throw in another picture of two for good measure.

This one’s Hirschfeld!

Bonus points: see if you can find “NINA” in the above picture.  And I hope to see you all on Non-Sequitur Thursday.

 

Not Useful, But Perhaps Entertaining

The first day back at work after a two week break cannot be expected to pass smoothly.  Once I made it out of bed at 3 a.m., I pretty much knew I would make it through.  I even had vague hopes of getting something useful done, both at work and afterwards.  Oh silly, silly me!  But if it is not easy being me, at least it is entertaining.

To begin with, I had problem after problem at work.  There is no point in going into details.  In fact, perhaps my employer would prefer I not even mention that there are ever any possible problems at my place of employment.  Everything goes smoothly at all times!  Only I do not work in fantasy land.  It was all right though, I resolved my problems with some help from co-workers and settled down to be as useful as possible under the circumstances.

One circumstance that was sad for me was that one of my best friends at work retired as of the day before shut-down.  He was in today for a final sign-out.  We had cake and coffee to mark the occasion during the 9 a.m. break.  I only bring it up to mention something I found rather amusing, although perhaps I flatter myself.  There were several manager-types at our little cake gathering, including one fellow I had never seen before.  But there was something vaguely familiar about him…  I had it.

“You look like that guy from the safety DVDs,” I told him.  “Tim Wright.”  Tim Wright is the host/narrator for several of the DVDs we watch at our monthly safety meeting.  He is a rather doofy character (there are not many un-doofy sorts in these safety things).  In one DVD, he is just a head, having lost all his other body parts through unsafe work practices.  I told the manager he looked as if Tim Wright could be his younger, doofier brother.  A little later, when the manager was making congratulatory remarks to my retiring friend, I asked another co-worker who he was.

“He’s the plant manager,” she said.   Well, he still looks like he could be Tim Wright’s brother.

I thought no more about it when I went back to work, and I imagine our plant manager did not either.   If I ever see him again and he brings it up, I will point out that I did say he looks less doofy than the DVD guy.

 

Lame Post, Not Really Friday

Full disclosure:  Even though I am making a Lame Friday Post, it is not really a Friday for me.  I have to work tomorrow.  However, this is not a blog about work, so I will not dwell on that but go on to attempt to entertain with random observations and half-baked philosophy (which, for anyone just tuning in, is what I do on Lame Post Friday).

Hmmm… I got nuthin.

I had thought I could share some of the observations I made when I went running on Monday.  I remember noticing a few things and thinking, “I’ll include that in my Running Commentary,” but I did not.  Do you suppose I remember what those observations were now?  Of course not!  I’ll let you come up with your own half-baked philosophy about why that is so.

Earlier today I observed the bright sunshine making things outside look quite lovely. I was about to remark upon it when a co-worker asked me how my play went.  Naturally  I got all distracted telling him all about how wonderful it was. And here I am talking about work again.  I’ll stop that now.

Last night was Ilion Little Theatre Club’s last monthly dinner meeting of the 2015-16 season.  Great plans are in train for next season.  I’ll most likely be writing many blog posts about it.  I do not intend to direct again.  Well, not before 2017.  Well, not a major production before 2017.  We’ll see what happens.  I might like to get back onstage again, although that entails a whole other set of trouble from directing.  So I thought maybe I’d take another season off acting as well.  Then I heard one director is doing Steel Magnolias.  What a great choice!

Well, that last paragraph was neither random observation nor half-baked philosophy, but merely me blathering on about the theatre.  I would imagine my readers had enough of that with All Leading Ladies All The Time and would appreciate a break.   Then again, there may also be readers who would like a break from foolish posts like this one, and they are doomed to disappointment.  Happy Friday, everyone.

 

Dear Abby I’m Not

It is often a mistake to give people advice.  They do not appreciate it.

For example, at work today, one guy started pushing another guy with his shoulder.  The other guy pushed back.  Back and forth, back and forth.

“Knock him down and step on his head,” I advised the second guy.

“Knock him down and step on his face!” exclaimed the first guy.

“No, I said, ‘Knock him down and step on his head.'”

A third co-worker asked what was going on.

“She wants him to knock me down and step on my face!”

“No, I said to knock you down and step on your HEAD, that is not the same thing.”

The guy I gave the advice to thought it was a terrible thing for me to tell him to do.

“It’s just an expression,” I told him.  “You know, ‘I’ll knock you down and step on your head!'”

“I’ve never heard that.”

“Oh well, I guess I made it up.”  Still, I’ve been saying it for years.  I’m sure it ought to be a well-known expression by now.

Long story short (I know, too late): He did not take my advice or even appreciate that I offered it.

This is a true story. I thought about it as I was running, and I thought it might be OK for a Non-Sequitur Thursday post.

 

Fresh Air! Times Square!

In Dolgeville, NY is an eatery called Green Acres. I have never been there, but it is an object of some interest to me because of the name. You see, the theme from the TV show Green Acres is quite a source of entertainment for my husband Steven and me. We used to sing it at karaoke. We quote the lyrics at appropriate times (and a few inappropriate; we’re that way). We even used a re-written version switching the male and female parts to audition for a musical at Ilion Little Theatre (I did not get a part).

All this by way of introduction to a silly work story I offer for this week’s Non-Sequitur Thursday.

Joanie, who lives in Dolgeville, goes to Green Acres sometimes. Marshall always wants her to take him. The place is only open in warm weather, so it is a sign of spring when I can start asking Marshall has he been to Green Acres and asking Joanie if she has taken him. Yesterday, spring came for me.

“Hey,” I said to Marshall, “Green Acres ought to be opening right along here.”

“Last weekend,” he told me. “Joanie’s already been.”

“And she didn’t take you?” I was shocked, shocked.

“She didn’t even bring me anything! I asked her to.”

“Not even a napkin? That’s what I would have brought you.”

“I’d have taken it,” he said. “A souvenir!”

I duly reported the conversation to Joanie today. I also told her I was going to write a whole blog post about how she refuses to take Marshall to Green Acres. She was OK with it. She even said she was willing to take Marshall to Green Acres, as long as he was buying. I neglected to convey the offer to Marshall. I think he’s more likely to see if next time Joanie brings him a napkin.

I Don’t JUST Talk!

I had some extra time this morning, which I could have used to write a really good blog post. Instead I fell into conversation with a co-worker, which I must say I enjoyed very much.

There I was, enjoying myself, when Joanie came along and said, “Do you ever stop talking?”

“Very rarely,” I answered, which of course she already knew. Then I thought of something else: “When you’re talking I have a hard time getting a word in edgewise.” Which I believe she also already knew.

She laughed and agreed we were alike in that respect.

“I’ll shut up now,” I said. “I’ll go write my blog post.”

She suggested I write about how I never shut up. Since I don’t have much else going on today, I did.

I was going to end it just then. See what I would be doing? I say I never shut up, then I shut up. Well, we all know that’s just not me.

A short time later, I saw Joanie talking to another co-worker. Naturally, I asked, “Joanie, don’t you ever stop talking?”

“No! Never!”

Later yet, I was working away at my machine, and Joanie was doing something nearby. Somehow, something wasn’t right. Finally, I called her over: “Psst, Joanie! Joanie! Come here, Joanie?”

“What?”

“Did you notice neither one of us is talking?”

We corrected that deficiency right away.

OK, for anybody else who works in my place of employment, especially any bosses (oh yeah, like they read my blog, but just in case): WE ALSO GOT OUR WORK DONE!

Toot! Toot!

I don’t usually write about work in my blog, but I told Joanie I was going to tell this story.

Some of us are on overtime. We walk into the factory at quarter to five, which some people feel is the middle of the night. I walk up the stairs, but several people were getting on the elevator.

Joanie said, “Toot, toot! All Aboard!”

She later told me another co-worker said, “Glad you’re so happy to be here,” adding that she would not be when she had worked there as long as he had.

Joanie disputed this. I guess we’ll have to wait thirty years to see who is right, although I’m betting on Joan. In the meantime, Joanie agreed with something I like to say: “You can laugh or you can cry. You might as well laugh.”

I’d like to call this a Mid-week Middle-aged Musing, but I already had a Monday Middle-aged Musing this week. How much musing can one middle-aged lady do in a week? OK, I do a lot. How many blogs about mental meanderings can one blogger get away with? I’m hoping a lot.