Lightbulb Fights in the Office....

It's day two of working from home and I'm liking it rather a lot. I have to admit, I'm being a brat about it and rolling out of bed ten minutes before work and mock-chiding myself, telling myself I'm going to be late if I don't get a move on. I know, I know, it's probably childish but it's just nice to be able to get work done like this. I admit, yesterday I actually probably got more work done in the morning than I usually get done all day.

Of course, it does seem that people are just as chatty online as they are in the office in the mornings. I've only been logged on for just over 30 minutes and I've already had two coworkers drop in for an electronic chat. Not that I mind but when I am actually trying to get my browsers ready to work, it's a little interruptive to have that chat window pop up.

Nevertheless, I have some work to do today which is rather nice. It shouldn't be too challenging but it's the type of work that's perfect to do like this. It sounds sad but I don't have to leave the house today at all and I'm actually excited about that. Last night, I actually had a date which not only involves leaving the house but also involves actually getting ready and trying to look nice. When you've spent the entire day at your computer wearing sweatpants and a sweatshirt, this is actually somewhat of a task. Still, it was a nice date and worth getting a little dressed up for it.

Today, though, I'm hoping not to be summoned to the new office. I did tell my boss that, being local, I'd be around if he needed physical labour. Apparently, he decided not to harass me and called another coworker in who lives much further away. To that, I merely sigh. What else can I do, honestly? As an invisible employee, I really shouldn't expect anything else. Being invisible has its advantages; it means I can come and go without too much hassle.

Still, there are times when I'm oddly not invisible. Friday in the office for example. Being that it was the last day, it was a little weird. After we finished our final testing on the software we were releasing that day, there really wasn't much to do so my coworkers and I sat and tried to look busy.

Then, mid afternoon, our boss sent one of the programmers to get beer. We all got to drink beer at our desks. To me, this is a good Friday. I mean, who doesn't want to drink beer at work?

After this, our president came downstairs to check our storage closet and he found some fluorescent lightbulbs. Now, to you and me, that'd be sort of like an "Oh, nice. Can we take those with us?" Not to my boss. He picked them up with a look of glee on his face and he looked at me and my two other coworkers. "Know what I'm thinking?" he said. Inwardly, I groan. He's a man. He's one of those men that is sometimes like a adolescent-grown-up. I can see where this is going. My coworkers look at him with puzzlement. I, however, don't. He says, "40 Year Old Virgin." I knew he was going to go with that or Star Wars. Star Wars would have been better...safer. He sees me shaking my head and says "Monkeypants" (naturally, he uses my real name but I prefer Monkeypants here), "You in?" I say, "No, but I'll watch." He squints at me. "You're in," he announces.

He goes away and I think he's forgotten about it. Then I get summoned outside. I get handed a lightbulb. My president has recruited another employee to join in. They hold long, skinny lightbulbs. Mine is a short, stubby one.

We go outside to the car park. I watch as the two men idiotically hit each other very hard on the back of the legs with the lightbulbs, which proceed to shatter with the blow. Then they turn to me. "I'm not hitting you with this!" I say in horror. They close in on me. I show them my lightbulb. There is no way it's going to shatter with one blow because it really is twice as thick as their's. Also, it's shorter which means it's far more likely to shatter in my hands causing a nasty injury than it is on their legs. Finally they give up and tell me I have to break it against the dumpster. That, I do. I admit, there was something satisfying about that and I didn't hurt anyone or hurt myself. I think the men were disappointed that I was a chicken but, at the same time, I'm the one that did not have a giant welt across the back of my knees for the rest of the day. Thus, there is something to be said for being a chicken though I prefer "Intelligent One."

So, that was my last day of work in the old office. It was, obviously, a little surreal. It was also sort of fun. It's not everyday you see your company president whacking someone with a lightbulb. Ironically, he doesn't even drink beer so that wasn't a factor.

I don't expect life in the new office will be quite like that. We're actually going to be surrounded by other companies in our office park so I'm not sure lightbulb fights will be sanctioned. Nevertheless it was one of those most fun, if strangest days at work I'd had in a while so I wouldn't be opposed to it. As long as I didn't have to be whacked.

Today, it's quiet at home. I don't forsee me having the desire to go break another lightbulb. Besides, I only have the normal screw-in kinds and that's just not the same. Also, there's glass. Glass makes a mess. It made a huge mess by the dumpster in the car park on Friday but our president didn't seem to mind.

No, instead, I think I'll focus on getting my work done in a decent time frame so that I can stop and do domestic-y things. Yesterday, for example, I baked a quiche. That was quite fun. Today, I'm not sure what I'll do but I'm sure I'll find something. I'm heading to my parents tomorrow morning having decided to take Wednesday off from work and use one of my precious PTO days so, at the very least, I can figure out what I need to pack.

Thus, since I'll be driving when I'm normally blogging tomorrow, this may be my last blog for the week. And thus, I shall wish you all a Happy Thanksgiving. I hope it's a time filled with gratitude (since it is THANKSgiving), family (without drama) and good food. I thank you for reading, you make blogging fun and I appreciate the time you spend with me when you do read.

Happy Tuesday and Happy Thanksgiving.

Finally, a Good Monday Morning!

I would like to begin this Monday morning blog by NOT complaining that it's Monday and that I didn't want to get out of bed. That is a rare, rare statement and one I had to log for posterity's sake.

I'm late blogging today. I find this rather ironic since I'm actually at home, working from my personal computer. You'd think this would mean I'd be able to get my blog out as soon as I was logged on.

Sadly, this is not the case. For the most part, I've become accustomed to my computer booting up, given me a strange flicker of relief at knowing I have an open window to the virtual world as soon as I bring up an internet browser only to laugh at me and present me with one of Microsoft's infamous Blue Screens of Death (BSOD).

For the most part, I have narrowed down my BSOD issue to the fact that I have a hardware conflict, specifically with my wireless router or my sound card. Since, currently, it usually restarts and lets me in eventually, I am working around it, being sure to save whatever work I'm doing.

So, I've already had one of those this morning. Also, it's important to be online on our office Instant Messenger system so people know I'm actually logged in, ready to work. That way I can't be accused of being a giant slacker even if, in fact, I am abandoning my computer for a few minutes to put a load of laundry in. I've even done a little bit of work which, I know, is shocking.

That's the thing about working at home. I have a cup of tea in my favourite Harry Potter mug, my iTunes is blaring and I'm wearing old sweat trousers because my jeans are in the laundry. This is my type of workday.

I know, I know, I'm rubbing it in for all you folks that have to work in an office. Believe me, this is a huge treat for me and one that's not likely to happen again in the near future. Thus, I'm intent on enjoying it as much as possible.

Even though I do have the luxury of working at home for two days this week, I do still feel like my weekend flew by. To be honest, I'm not even sure where it went. I know I did a lot. I mean, I got my car serviced, I wrote...I cleaned. I did manage to get my Christmas lights up outside. I had planned on hanging those icicle lights on the roof. I bought these nifty hooks and bought two sets of lights. Then it occured to me that those two sets would only cover 16 feet. So I got another set. Then I realized that even three sets was not going to be enough. To top things off, I climbed up to the roof on my rickety ladder only to discover that the hooks I had bought weren't going to work since I didn't appear to have a normal overhang and there was really no good place to hook them. Thus, I ended up returning the icicle lights and just using regular mini multicoloured lights on my juniper bushes instead.

Of course, it turns out that I'm allergic to juniper bushes. As I boldly wound the light strings around the prickly bushes, my hands began to sting. I thought it was just because the needles were scratchy. By the time I had finished winding the lights, my hands were rather sore. When I got inside, I realized I'd developed a rash that stings when you wash your hands. On the plus side, I've finally realized why, if I've been working outside, my hands sometimes sting when I wash them. Next time, I'll wear gloves.

My yard looks quite nice though. I used my timer to test my lights last night and I got to look at them in the dark. I quickly turned them off. Given how much I've complained about people decorating early for Christmas, I don't want to be a hypocrite. I just wanted to get them up before the weather turns cold.

It's supposed to get cold this week, just in time for Thanksgiving. I've even heard my favourite "s" word I'm supposed to call it now. This superstition my family and friends have of my doing the snow dance or even just saying "Snow, Sausage!" and then having it snow seems to be a little silly. Still, I fully intend on doing the snow dance and trying to make Sausage join in when I'm home for Thanksgiving. I think I've been very patient. This time last year, we'd already had several snow instances and I'd probably started my blogging obsession with the stuff. This year, I've enjoyed the Indian summer but now I'm ready for snow. I want to break out my Cocoa Latte machine and make my first steaming mug of Williams Sonoma peppermint hot chocolate. I want to build my very first snowman in my own backyard.

Of course, I'm not expecting that amount of snow...yet. I'll wait until December.

I love the holidays. I know that as a Singleton, the holidays are traditionally supposed to be hard. I won't admit that it's not a lonely time but it doesn't mean I don't enjoy everything that goes along with Christmas. In some ways, I think I am a little lucky to have so much freedom. I mean, I can watch "Elf" and "Love Actually" as often as I like without anyone throwing a pillow at my head. It's a trade off, I suppose; being alone and having freedom or having to compromise but have someone to share the holidays with.

Right now, though, the holiday that lies in front of us is Thanksgiving, not Christmas. Though, I confess, I have plans to be up at 4 a.m. with my sister on Friday morning to go Christmas shopping. I don't actually need to buy that many gifts but, as insane as I am, I actually rather enjoy that pandemonium. It's the thrill of the hunt. I love to be out and about but be home by 1 p.m. and have had a full day of shopping. I'm strange like that. For as much as I complain about getting up in the mornings, once I'm up, I'm up. I love to do things in the morning. I'm much more productive. Then I can spend the rest of the day being lazy if I'm so inclined.

For now, though, being that it's morning, I suppose I should be productive at work. This silly work ethic of mine is getting in the way of a perfectly good potential day of slacking off. Perhaps if I get everything done, I won't feel quite so lazy. We'll see.

Happy Monday!

The Art of Adaptation

It's my last day in last day in this building today. This means it was also my last commute. People in the office keep telling me how lucky I am that my house is only ten minutes from the new building. I agree, to some extent although I do prefer to think of it as strategic planning, rather than luck.

Also, I'm actually no longer opposed to a commute. I was when I first moved back to Ohio because commuting in Los Angeles is enough to kill the joy of driving for anyone. Seriously, the mere fifteen miles of distance from my apartment to my job could take up to an hour and a half on a bad days. Thus, moving back and living in the same town as where I worked was quite a novelty. Then I moved and the office didn't and I was back to a commute.

Yet, this time, the commute was steady. It rarely differs in time at all. It's a straight 45 minute shot and it's about 26 miles from home to this office. That's not a bad drive. Also, it's pretty. Part of the drive is an interstate. Then my exit takes me to a two lane highway that eventually slims down to a one lane highway. It's primarily rural so, especially at this time of year, the scenery is beautiful with all the trees, leaves, greenness and quiet.

Since I've been listening to audiobooks, the commute is something I almost look forward to because it's like my own private time to 'read' and relax.

That time has reached its end for now. I don't mind because for someone who complains about getting out of my warm cocoon of a bed as frequently as I do in this blog, a ten minute commute is rather a luxury.

I think, more than anything, it proves you can get used to anything if you do it enough. I think that's why they call it adaptation. We can all adapt, even when we least expect it. For example, my aversion to a commute has gently become an enjoyment. I think there are a lot of things in life like that, when you stop to think about it.

It's like cooking, for me. Until recent years, I viewed cooking as something that was necessary to do unless I wanted to eat out all the time. I never counted microwaving as cooking. Yet my cooking was basic, usually involving something pre-packaged. Then, slowly, thanks to Iron Chef America, I began to be interested in food. Now, I cook. I get excited about kitchen gadgets and I love to try new recipes. I've even implemented an 'unusual vegetable of the week' routine. Generally, I go to the grocery store or a market and buy something I haven't cooked with much. Then I attempt to find a recipe that incorporates it. Recently, I've tried things such as rapini (broccoli rabe), escarole, swiss chard, fennel, turnips and spaghetti squash. Some of the recipes work out, some don't. Yet it's making me try new recipes and since I adore vegetables, it's a fun way to make something healthy as well as occasionally delicious. I have a great swiss chard recipe, if anyone's interested.

Anyway, my point is, I got used to actually cooking instead of the semblance of such. I started to care about my knives. I started to use prep bowls and zesters. I think now I've finally reached the point where I'm almost snobbish. Take garlic for example: I used to buy those jars of minced garlic. It was still fairly fresh and it was easy to measure. Then, I bought a fresh garlic and learned how to push down on it gently with my knife to make it easy to peel. Then I began to chop it myself. Now, I can't use any other type of garlic. I still have a little jar of the minced but even when I'm in a hurry, I end up chopping my own. I love the way my fingers smell afterward. I love the slight stickiness it leaves on my fingers. It just feels wonderful to make a dish in which everything is fresh.

Yet, if I'd have written this a year and a half ago, I would have thought I was out of my mind. At that time, I still used garlic powder as a substitute. I thought there was no difference between fresh herbs and those dried ones.

I've come a long way. Cooking has become part of my life. I adapted.

So, you see, I think it's about perspective. My commute once seemed an evil prospect. Now I'm saying goodbye to it, I'm a little sad. I liked that time to decompress after work. It was a good time to call my mother and let a little steam off about my workday. I can still do that stuff but I'm going to have to find a new way to do it. Perhaps I can finally start exercising again because I'll have extra time in the evening.

I'm not fond of exercising, particularly in the winter. It's hard to come home when it's cold outside, peel off my layers of warmth and then strip down to change into workout clothes when all I really want to do is ladle out a bowl of beef stew and sit in front of the TV. Yet, if I do it enough, perhaps I'll get used to exercising again. After all, as I've said, it's really just a matter of perspective. If I start to like it, maybe I'll keep it up. I just have to adapt to the idea, that's all.

But, for today, I have one more commute left: The commute home.

I don't think that's such a bad thing though, do you?

Happy Friday and have a good weekend!

Strange Happenings in the Office...

It's gloomy out there today. I have been assured, however, that the grey skies are going to clear up and the sun will soon be out...sometime. It might be today, it might be tomorrow but the sun will shine again.

I'm thinking maybe a career change to being a weather woman might be quite easy. I know there's supposed to be some education involved but, really, to us layfolk, it seems awfully easy to sit there and spout things like, "We may see some rain today but it might pass us by," and "The sun will shine again sometime in the next few days!"

I know, I know...there's probably some meteorological school involved or something. I just don't really see how that works when, really, with all the Doppler 5000 technology, it just involves reading the weather off a computer.

Still, for now, the sun is not shining and the greyness of the day is pressing inwards. Our president fired someone yesterday. One minute she was here, the next minute the news is flying around the company, urgently whispered as so to keep it covert. Naturally, we all knew within five minutes although we still don't really know why. She was a fairly new hire and it's likely, we'll never know the reasons she was fired. I know she reminded me of one of my old bosses, someone for whom I had so much trouble working, I finally threw in the towel and found another job. Yet, since I didn't know this woman that well, I can only guess what her crimes were.

Of course, it has sent a fear into all of us. Even the most secure of employees here has to realize that being fired is a simple process: One day you come into work like usual and the next thing you know, you're carrying a banker's box of possessions out the door and being asked to submit your computer passwords. In the days when we worked with the university, it was harder. Being fired from a university is a long, tedious process and it takes months, even years unless there is a good, obvious reason like, say, you kill your manager or something.

I'd like to think that if I were in trouble, I'd at least know ahead of time. I think usually, a firing is preceded by closed door meetings in which bad behaviour is discussed. If the bad behaviour doesn't stop, a firing happens. It's abrupt, it's quick and all we employees ever know is what comes in the standard email: "Effective immediately [Name of fired employeed] no longer works for [our company name] Please direct all questions to [Name of President] or [Name of HR Manager]." That's it. We have the gossip chain, of course. We all have our suspicions, our own anecdotes of how the fired employee misbehaved but we never get anything more official than that email.

The thing I find amusing is that if we have questions, we're supposed to ask the president or HR manager. Yet, if someone asks "Why?", they're told, "I'm afraid we can't discuss it." That pretty much says it all. The only thing we all want to know is "Why"? but that's the one question they won't answer.

I know they can't say why for legal reasons. This is a litigious society we live in. Anything that we're told could be admissible if a lawsuit is filed by the employee if he/she feels it is a wrongful termination.

Yet, the why of the situation would be good for all of us. It would ease some of the self-doubt that is swimming around everyone's minds: What did she do that was so bad and am I doing it too? What sort of thing could we get fired for? Was it because she was always watching videos on her computer at work? I do that too! Am I going to get fired?

You get the idea. Sometimes the cold, hard truth is better than the speculative worry that floods the atmosphere when people's thoughts are left to stew.

So, today, this morning, everyone seems to be walking around, a little stunned. We can't discuss it because our company President is upstairs, ensconced in his office, a deterrent to gossip because he hates gossip. We can exchange surreptitious comments, raised eyebrows but we can't talk about it at work.

It means we're all on our toes, worried about our own job security. I'm not too worried...yet. I haven't been summoned to my boss's office. I do get my work done, even if I don't do it with beams of joy and sunshine flooding off me. I never fail to meet my deadlines. I hope this means I'm safe but...you never know. And I know I'm not the only one thinking this.

I suspect the quiet in the office will last all day while we tiptoe around. It makes for a productive work environment, even if it is a little tense.

As for me, I think I'll keep a low profile, do the odd chair dance and, if things get really bad, do a mental dance around the teapot.

I'll just make sure no one sees. Just in case.

Happy Thursday!

The Joy of Googling....

Today, it is foggy, rainy and the greyest day we've had in a while. We had rain last night and this morning, the weather can't seem to decide if it wants to rain or it just wants to lurk and threaten. On the way to work, I went through foggy patches so thick that all I could see was the damp road and the lights of the car ahead and behind me. Then I'd go through a rainy patch and the fog would vanish, replaced by pounding raindrops that lastest about a minute.

It's another one of those days where the idea of getting out of bed seems almost offensive. The urge to hibernate and burrow down into the blanket kicks in and I feel that perhaps Sausage and I are more alike than I'd like to admit. I think if I had someone at home who tried to stir me from my bed besides myself, I might even take to growling at them on days like this. I like my cocoon of blankets wrapped around me as the greyest sliver of dawn peeks in the window and proves that it's not going to come to fruition much more than it already is.

Still, since it's a bit silly to growl at myself, I did manage to rouse myself and get up. So I drove through the miserable weather and came into the office. Because that's what I do. Things here aren't so bad lately. The scent of change has injected a little energy into the place and everyone seems to be a little more excited. Next week, as a work at home week, is going to be nice and relaxing and, sadly, more productive than my days in the office, I'm sure. I get so much more done in the privacy of my home because it's comfy. Then, we'll be in a new place and I know everyone can't wait to see how that goes.

And you might be happy to know the benefits enrollment meeting was relatively painless yesterday. After I wrote about the doughnuts yesterday, it did occur to me that it's a bit of an ironic sort of food to bring to a health benefits enrollment meeting, isn't it? Still, everyone was excited about the doughnuts. Since they actually had selected one lone doughnut that happens to be my favourite and the only type I really like, I did partake in the doughnut ritual but I waited until I got to my desk. My favourite doughnut is the elusive jam doughnut with real sugar, not that powdered crap. Too often, you tell people you like jam doughnuts and they bring you one. Except it's rarely a jam doughnut. It's usually one covered with powdered sugar and filled with pie filling. I hate pie filling in my doughnuts. It's an imposter. Jam doughnuts must have seeds in the filling. Otherwise, it is either a jelly doughnut or a pie filling doughnut. Also, I take offense to the fact that it's called pie filling and it's in a doughnut.

By the way, just in case you're wondering, the difference between jam and jelly is that jam is usually made from whole fruit, usually one single type of fruit and includes all part of the fruit such as seeds and peel as well as the fruit. Jelly, on the other hand, is usually made from a blend of fruits and uses juice as well as the fruit. It does not contain seeds. I googled it yesterday because my coworkers couldn't figure out what the difference was.

That's something my two coworkers and I do fairly often: We google things. For example, last week, my coworker had a bag of gummi neon worms. She read the ingredients off and they included all kinds of colours like Blue #3 and Yellow #5 so I asked what the difference was between Blue #3 and, say, Blue #4. It turns out that those colours are rather scientific. For example, one of the yellows is the same one used in Mountain Dew. It apparently has an effect on a male's, uh, ability to perform. So, ladies, if your man drinks a lot of Mountain Dew, watch out.

Of course, our information did come from Wikipeda. As much as I adore the resource because it provides instant gratification to a research junkie like me, I'm also smart enough to know that it's not always accurate. That's what you get for allowing the public to edit entries. I think overall, it's a great resource but occasionally, people tend to get a bit wacked out on there especially when it involves trying to out-fact each other. So maybe the Mountain Dew thing should be taken with a grain of salt.

I'm going to miss our 'google' sessions. Since our little team of three is being divided in the new space, they'll be less opportunity to be silly. One of my coworkers gets an office; myself and another coworker is being relegated to a cube farm with the other development staff.

I'd rather have an office, obviously. However, I've resigned myself to the idea of being in a 'bullpen' with the other programmers. It's going to be quiet because they're not chatters. On the plus side, this means my overly chatty coworker will have to tone it down a little. On the negative side, it means that there will be far less opportunity to have our morning water cooler discussions about the TV shows we've watched the night before. Also, my coworker tends to have friends in other departments who will have offices so I foresee her pulling even more disappearing acts than she does not. For the most part, to be fair, she does talk about work because, unlike me, she's actually scarily passionate about the software she work with. I've tried that but it's awfully hard to get excited about testing for bugs with my product because I just don't love it. However, the problem with her disappearing acts is she does them frequently and conveniently at times when she's supposed to be working with me on a joint product we share.

No, my only problem with my cubicle is privacy. I'm rather picky about where my monitor is stationed. For example, in my last job, I marked a line on the floor as to where the display of my monitor became visible to visitors.

Yes, I'm a control-freak but that's been established.

It's not even that it's because I do anything really bad on my computer. It's just that there are times when the tedium of work becomes too much and I simply need to take a Wikipedia break. I usually find some random thing to look up and learn about it for the day. Or, sometimes, I want to read a recap of a TV show. Sometimes, I need to look up the price of something. You get the idea. It's just that, at these moments, it's Murphy's Law that you'll get caught, even if you spend 98% of the day working and only 2% slacking off. It's the 2% that gets you.

So, I like to hide my monitor. I like to be the only one who knows what's on it unless I grant permission. To me, anyway, a computer is a personal thing, even if it belongs to the office. I spend so much time on a computer at work and then in the evenings when I write that they become extensions of me. They show what I'm fascinated with at the time from my search history. For the record, I'm a sad rebel: I don't look at bad stuff at work so there's no porn to be found unless, say, it's an accident like when I'm shopping for a doll for my mother since she collects them. Do you know how many porn sites use doll in the title? And they're not always labeled as porn. Usually, if I accidentally click on a bad site, I go beet red and immediately try to iradicate my browser history. I know it's still accessible if you know how to get to it but it makes me feel better.

But I don't do that much non-work surfing in the office. It's just that I like to be able to do it when I have the urge. I like the freedom of being able to take mini-breaks to chase away the ennui of working too hard. Thus, my Monitor Control Methods.

I'm desperately hoping I can control where my monitor is. The idea of having my monitor face outwards so that my back is towards all my cubicle visitors fills me with dread. Besides, I've seen the Godfather movies: I know how dangerous it is to have your back exposed to the world.

Ok, so maybe no mafia members are going to be stealing into our building to shoot me in the back but in my imagination, they could and so I try not to expose my back unless I have no choice.

Also, I'm, uh, jumpy. Thus, if I'm engrossed in my work and someone comes up behind me without my knowing, I tend to overreact by jumping ten feet in my chair and squealing a little. Since I'm going to be sharing office space with about ten other people, all of us in our cubicles, I'm thinking squealing is going to be a little disruptive. Thus, I'm thinking I can't be the only one who's jumpy. Thus, some freedom in our workspace has to be granted...right?

The only thing I can do is find out. It's too bad I can't google it.

Happy Wednesday...

No Point Crying Over Spilled Tea....

I'm hoping today isn't going to be one of those days. I've already spilled my tea while I was driving down my nice newish white sweater I put on this morning. I've used soap and water to get rid of the worst of it but there are still yellowish patches that I'm hoping won't be too visible unless people know they're there.

Also, I had a bad moment while driving and I don't think it was my fault. It was a four-way stop and it was one of those slightly awkward moments when you get there almost the same time as another car. There's a moment of waiting while you both figure out who's going to go. Since it wasn't terribly light out there, it wasn't possible to do the universal wave of 'you go ahead' and have the other driver see it. So, deciding to take the lead, I started to go. Then, the other driver started to go. As we both moved, I thought, "oh, he's going straight, anyway" because there was no turn signal. Since I was also going straight, it didn't seem to really matter who went first. Except it seems that the other driver wasn't going straight, he was going to turn. Only as he pulled forward to the middle of the intersection did he put on his turn signal and then proceed to honk and give me the finger. I'm very sorry but where I learned to drive, the turn signal is intended to indicate that you're turning. If it's not on, how am I supposed to know where another driver is going? Since I'm sadly not psychic, I can't predict these things.

Then, when I get in, I see there are doughnuts in the conference room. I have a feeling this is to accompany our benefits enrollment session that's scheduled bright and early at 9 a.m. today. I wish I was a doughnut person but I'm not. I just don't get excited about doughnuts. My taste buds tend to veer towards savory and salty, not so much the sweet. Also, I find, if I do partake in the morning doughnut ritual, I end up wishing I hadn't because even though I was hungry, that's an awful lot of fat and calories that I just wasted on something I don't like that much anyway.

Still, I do appreciate the effort of our president to sweeten up the enrollments session. I'm not big on these. Working for a small company is very different from working in a the large university environment because it's harder to find affordable benefit packages. So far, this year, I've paid a lot of out-of-pocket costs because our insurance had a fairly high deductible. We were told yesterday that the deductible for the new plan would be a little higher. I'm trying to be excited and hope that it has better coverage but the idea of a higher deductible is a little worrisome.

Yesterday, during our benefits meeting, we also got a very nice pep talk from our CEO about our fantastic new office space to which we'll be moving next week. Maybe. No one quite knows when we'll actually be able to move in; at the very latest, it'll be the Monday following Thanksgiving. I didn't mind this until I found out yesterday that my plans for what I do when I had to work at home were foiled because they're going to be taking down the servers on which I access almost 98% of my workload. So, now I have to find out what, actually, I should be doing when I work from home since I adamently refuse to waste any of my precious remaining PTO days because my company forgot to tell me that they hadn't planned very well.

Still, according to our CEO, our new building is going to be spectacular. She's spared no expense. We will have a colour scheme matching our product suite which, for your information, is purple, a turquoise blue, a butterscotch yellow and red. The mental picture of that colour combination is probably much harsher in my mind than it'll be in reality....right? Even our countertops in our kitchen are speckled with those colours.

Also, we're going to have a workout room with a Wii, a Foosball table and bathrooms with nice showers. Also, the bathroom stalls are floor-to-ceiling for privacy. We may even get a yoga instructor to come and teach classes!

Now, I want to be a bright glow of sunshiny excitement about this. However, one thing I've learned from my company is if you're in the office, you need to be working. If you take time out to do something like, oh, go to lunch, you make up the time by working later. So, I'm having a hard time believing that our President is going to completely change and let us go play a rousing game of Foosball during work hours on a regular basis or that he's going to let us go take a break to run on the treadmill and shower. No, I think it's more likely that we're going to have to stay late to make up any fun time we spend at work.

Now, call me crazy and I know this is because I'm not experiencing 100% job satisfaction but, at the end of the day, I want to go home. I do not want to go play Wii with my coworkers. I do not want to do yoga with them. I want to go home. It's not that I don't like my coworkers. I do. It's just that I'd rather be home, doing something I actually want to do like writing, watching TV, making dinner. We're a company with about 22 employees who actually work in the office and not working remotely. By any standards, that's small. Our new building is the type of place you'd expect from Google, Microsoft....big companies that can afford to rotate work breaks and let people decompress at work. We're too small to really be able to do that.

I'm being negative and I know this. I, for one, like the idea of having a meeting while playing Foosball or running on the treadmill. Yet that means you have to find someone else who is capable of talking work while doing something else: Multitasking. Not everyone likes to do that. Still, on bad days, a game of Foosball is quite therapeutic. I like to play dirty.

Now that I'm thinking about it, maybe it's not such a good idea to have meetings while playing Foosball.

Still, I can't wait to see the new building. It's something to see, according to our CEO. She likes it so much, she's literally getting them to build her an apartment on the first floor so that when she comes in to visit (she's based in California), she has somewhere to stay. You might remember that my CEO likes some, uh, noisy extracurricular activities, things that involve a little spanking and squealing. I can't help but wonder if she's going to invite her boyfriend to her new place during work hours. That might be...entertaining.

I work in an odd place. I am incredibly lucky to work for a company that is trying so hard to make us happy and I really, really wish I could stop seeing the glass as half-empty. I try to be a half-full person mostly but there are times when that pesky sense of rational reality kicks in and says, do we really need custom-made bathroom dividers? Can't we, you know, use that money to increase the wages of the people who are going to paying a lot more to get to work because they now have to commute?

But, for now, I have our benefits enrollment to look forward to and the doughnuts that lie ahead. As long as I don't spill the doughnut on my shirt, if I decide to eat one, my day will already be better. Again, it's the small things in life., right?

Happy Tuesday!

The Joys of Dancing Around a Teapot

There's something to be said for donning a tiara, some princess jewelry and dancing around a musical teapot.

It's something that can instantly make you forget the worries of the world and realize that the smaller moments, the sillier moments in life are the ones that make it worthwhile.

In my case, it came down to the musical teapot. The tiara was never optional.

Now it's a Monday morning and though the tiara is gone and the musical teapot far away, in my mind, I can still dance around the teapot and plan to do so anytime I want to be far away from my job. I'd do it for real and not just mentally but given that the teapot belongs to my niece, I don't think she'd appreciate her Auntie Monkeypants taking it to work and she'd adamantly tell me know if I asked.

That's the thing about my niece, already at the age of three, she knows what she likes. For example, she very much likes to dress like a princess and has the clothes to prove it. She also likes to have tea parties. She likes to call their dog, Lillie, by the name of "Baby Ho." And she likes to use her imagination. I like to help her with that part, mostly because I still like to use my own imagination as much as possible.

So it was, yesterday, when I found myself being asked to dance around the musical plastic teapot and wearing my niece's tiara. How could I say no to that? It's not every day that you get that sort of invitation. So, I gave it my all and had a little dance. Baby Ho...I mean, Lillie the Chihuahua, joined us at one point.

I have to say, it was quite a lovely way to spend a Sunday afternoon. I also got to catch up with my sister in between tea parties and dancing around the teapot. In addition, I got to sit inside my niece's Hello Kitty tent which is really quite small and claustrophobic, especially when you're sharing it with a large tinsel, arched-back Halloween cat named "Kitten" and a small musical keyboard.

Hanging out with my niece is always a lot of fun. Three-year-old's are completely open-minded and don't understand why someone wouldn't want to dance around a musical teapot. It's just fun to let loose and be silly once in a while.

Some weekends are just meant to spent like that, I think. I always have stuff to be doing around my house but sometimes, I think it does us good to ignore productivity and spend it having fun instead.

My weekend was fun. In fact, it was very fun. I got to spend Saturday with my parents. They were looking for a new sofa and wanted me to help them figure out which one to get. So, a portion of Saturday was spent wandering around Ashley Furniture and sitting on couches. Personally, I find that rather fun. In the end my parent's picked a compromise between the one my mother liked and the one my dad liked. I also got to look at furniture ideas for my own place. One thing I do want to know after spending time in Ashley Furniture is do people really decorate like that? I don't know how familiar you are with furniture stores but they tend to set up their displays like a real room so there are rugs and accessories all over the place.

It's the accessories that have me curious. They have the strangest things in their setups. I saw wrought-iron giant frogs, urn-like vases, strange baskets of wicker balls, giant hands cupping....nothing. It was most peculiar. I'm not sure if you're even supposed to look at the accessories but I do find them fascinating.

As well as the couch shopping, my parents and I saw a movie: "Pirate Radio." I have to say, it was one of the most fun movies I've seen in a while. It's a movie that is written and directed by Richard Curtis who also made one of my all time favourite movies: "Love Actually." It's set in the sixties during a time in Britain when rock music was not played on the radio for more than an hour or so a week in favour of news and radio dramas. Enter the pirate radio stations: Large boats that broadcasted off the coast of Britain and played rock music all day and all night.

The movie focuses on the motley group of DJ's who live on the Radio Rock boat, the most popular of the stations. It is viewed primarily through the eyes of an eighteen year-old boy who is sent to the boat by his mother after he's expelled from school. The cast features Philip Seymour Hoffman, Rhys Ivans, Kenneth Branaugh, Bill Nighy, Nick Frost and a lot of other hilarious actors who make the whole film feel like you're taking a holiday from life. The British government want the pirate radio stations to stop because of the corruption of the youth that they're supposedly causing and because of the lost revenue by advertisers. Kenneth Branaugh plays a politician who makes it his mission to take down Radio Rock.

The thing about the movie is that it focuses on the music and the effect it has on Britain. Half of the population tunes into the pirate station but it's still going to be shut down because the government holds the reigns. The DJ's are celebrities because of the delicious seeds of rebellion they sow in their listeners. The music is hardcore '60's rock and the DJ's live to play it.

Don't get me wrong, the film is rather silly. Yet it's the kind of silly that makes you just want to jump on board and watch more closely. It makes you want to take Kenneth Branaugh's character and slap him until he wakes up and realizes, as the DJ's do, that you can stop the radio but you can't stop the music. When the government finally passes an act that prohibits pirate radio from broadcasting because their signal can potentially block distress signals of other craft in the area, it looks like it's the end of Radio Rock.

And, in a way, it is but the movie finds a way to show us that it never really died and the fact that there are over 6 million radio stations in the world that are now free to play whatever they want means that pirate radio did its job.

I had a great time at the movies. It's been a while since I got to do that with my parents and I have a feeling they enjoyed it as much as I did. In the end, it turned out to be the kind of day that was truly an escape from the weekday, just as real weekends should be.

Now it's Monday and it's the last one we'll have in this office before we move next week. There's a lot on my plate to get done over the next week but I think I can manage. There's not much that doesn't seem better when I close your eyes, imagine a tiara on my head and hear the tinkling sound of a teapot nearby. Let the dancing begin.

Happy Monday!