The Perils of Human Services ...

A conversation I had with a customer .... (note: this occurred on Monday)

Customer: "Hi! *embarrassed laugh* Silly me. I wasn't by my calender when I made my appointment. Was that tomorrow or Tuesday?"


Me: "*blinks* Well, just one minute while I check the schedule. *very confused, puts customer on hold, slowly makes way to big board where we keep a hard copy of the schedule* Hey? *calling out to the other woman in the office*"

Other Woman: "Yeah?"


Me: "Today is Monday, isn't it?" (I've been known to get my days mixed up before.)

Other Woman: "Yeah."

Me: "*blinks, checks that she is on Tuesday, goes reluctantly back to the phone* Ma'am? Your appointment's tomorrow."

Customer: "Oh. Well I could have sworn that I heard Tuesday when I made the appointment."

Me: "Ma'am, it is Tuesday -"

Customer: "You said it was tomorrow."

Me: "*hesitates then bites the bullet* Ma'am tomorrow is Tuesday."

Customer: "But today's Sunday!"

Me: "Ma'am ........ today is Monday."

...................

She laughed when she realized that I was right, but it was rough going there for a while. Next time (if there is one), I'm making my boss take the call. Let him deal with it; I don't get paid enough. *grins*

"What Dreams are Made On"

I'm not sure I should be allowed to sleep anymore (perchance I dream! ... *snickers*). This morning I was most definitely plotting to take over my office when I woke up. I remember, in my dream of course *big grin*, thinking that So-and-So likes me better than the real boss So-and-So would listen to me.

I'm not quite sure of all the details of the plot though. So it's going to be a bit hard to implement. *perks up* I could always go back to sleep. Maybe then I'd get the details!

Drama King?

I have a cat that - mon Dieu, it hurts my head to think about it - yowls. Constantly. Halfpint (yes, that's his name ... I'm not changing it to protect the innocent because, well, he's not innocent damn it!) ... anyway, Halfpint has a horrid life. No one loves him, no one pets him, and he is horribly abused.

At least, that's the story if you listen to him.

He whines. A lot. If my mom his gone (his favorite person in the whole wide world), he'll spend the entire time telling you about it. It's cute and annoying all at once.

Well, yesterday morning, when I woke up, Halfpint came upstairs and kitty screamed at me. *blinks* I interpreted his cries as such:

Halfpint is on the list of top fifty people with the sucky-est lives. He wouldn't admit it, but I'm thinking he's somewhere in the middle. He did acknowledge that he's right above Napoleon and Anne Boleyn. So apparently his life isn't so bad as being banished nor so bad as having one's head cut off.

That's good news right? .... Well ....

See, he's right under Joan of Arc. *blinks* Yes, you read that right. My cat is one short step away from death and martyrdom.

*blinks again* Adeline had disappeared on vacation, but I'm starting to wonder if she snuck back for a short visit.

Adulthood

This is going to be very quick because I'm not dressed and I have fifteen minutes to type, get ready, and haul ass to work. *big grin* What can I say? I hate waiting around for anything (blame the marching band for that trait).

Now that I'm completely off topic, I'll try to get back on. I've been too much of an adult here recently. Sunday I had horrible experiences with Expedia and United Airlines. I just wanted to book a ticket so I can go on vacation in July (and not become one of those crazy people who pokes people and sees penguins .... oh wait ........). But would these people let me do that? No! (*mutters* Rat finks!) So what did I do? What consumers have been doing for ages. I wrote them a nasty letter.

If that's not adulthood, I don't know what is. (And no comments from the peanut gallery about how they've never written nasty letters.)

Tonight I'm being seated on the board of trustees for the local library. *makes a scared face* This wouldn't be such a daunting thought if I didn't already know that I'm going to cause trouble tonight. I'm being seated as the treasurer (because no one else would do it). After I'm seated, we're going to talk about the budget that the last treasurer (with help) created. I'm adamantly opposed to it (it leaves the library in a deficit). So on my very first night I get to create trouble. For someone who doesn't like confrontation, this is not a thrilling prospect.

I'm in the process of "cleaning" my room (also known as hauling out the big guns). I found a memory stick I've been looking for forever (Rhi, that hockey story I told you about I couldn't find? It should be on there.) It has some unfinished pieces. Maybe that will motivate me to get back to writing.

..... And one last night ..... anyone else noticed that now that I'm (attempting) to type regularly that a) there's no more writing stuff and b) it got serious. .......... Adeline's going to have a hissy fit when I yank her back from her vacation. Y'all might want to cover your heads.

Two (more) Words:

AIRLINES SUCK!!!

:)

Changing Spirits

I know that I've changed a lot in the years since high school. Less so than I will in the coming years, but more than I did while I was still in high school. But, it still astounds me whenever I spend time (or even just see) someone I went to high school with.

See, I lived in a community where it was small enough that you knew everyone in high school from when they'd been five. You'd gone through all the years of school together, you knew their first name, their last name, hell, you even know about that time when they were seven, and they squirted milk out their nose in the cafeteria during lunch. You knew everything. (Yeah, college was a big culture shock for me.)

When you're with people like that - for that period of time - you get to the point where you simply stop looking at them. That used to make me crazy because it meant people weren't realizing how much I'd changed my personality. But now I've come to realize that it works both ways. I ceased to see them as well.

This comes up because I spent last night with my two best friends from high school. I've grown very close to one since the time we were in school together. The other .... she's drifted away from us.

At a certain point in the evening, she was talking on her cell phone to someone, and she told him that she was "hanging with her two girlfriends from high school." Something about that phrase struck me. And I looked at her for the first time in years. She looks like the same person. And in some ways she is the same person. But I'm not.

I guess it was just another signpost on my lovely journey of "Welcome to Adulthood, Enjoy Your Stay in Reality."

Hmmm.

I had something to say yesterday (when I accidentally fell asleep and was almost late to work *makes a face*), but today I apparently have nothing. Isn't that the breaks?

Today I'm quite seriously thinking of calling in "sick". I mean, sick of work counts right? *blinks* It doesn't. Well hot damn. I still have about five minutes to decide what I'm going to do (and the guilt will probably poke me into getting up in the next five minutes), but, for now, I'm going to dream (of the impossible).

What's your favorite thing to do whenever you play hookey?

Either, Or, Neither

I went shopping last weekend to two stores. One company, but two stores. The company breaks itself into two stores to cater to all the different shapes and sizes women come in. One is the "plus" store. The other is the "petite" store.

*grins crookedly* I happen to fit right between the two stores. It works out great for me because I can buy that perfect shirt that just happens to be sold in the other store.

But it does lead me to wonder ... as my poor friend had to listen to when she came over later that night. Does this mean I'm a skinny chubby woman or a chubby skinny woman?

*sighs dramatically* The world may never know.

Another Shot At It

Last night a friend of the family called. She asked about ... THE THING. The conversation went something like this.

"So when are you going to finish a book?"
"I already did."
"Well, then give it to me so I can find a publisher for it."
"No, it's crap.
*disbelieving laugh* "How do you know?"
*a couple blinks then a patient tone* "Because I wrote it."

She's not buying that, but I don't really care because I know the truth. It's a series of self-glorifying scenes without any link (other than character) to tie it all together. But, she did somehow confuse me into saying that I'm going to write something else. Starting today.

*gnaws on thumb (ok not literally because I'm typing but go with the emotion symbolized by the action people! *grins*)*

Do you think this blog could count as a book?

Me neither darn it.

Beauty is All Around

Peoria, Illinois celebrated its twenty-second Race for the Cure yesterday. My mother, sister, and myself have participated in many of the races over the years. Still, after all the years, I can't quite figure out how to describe the mixture of sadness, awe, and hope that mingles within the chest at the sight of the literally thousands of women and men gathering on the streets of the city. It's an incredibly moving experience that lingers.

My niece and nephew joined us for the first time yesterday. Being only three weeks old, William was unimpressed, and he slept through the majority of it. Lydia, however, was more aware. I know she didn't understand what was happening around her, but she was there.

If the Race has its way, they'll find a cure, and she never will have to understand.

I run for hope,

I run to feel,

I run for the truth,

For all that is real,

I run for your mother, your sister, your wife,

I run for you, and me, my friend,

I run for life.

"I Run For Life"

Melissa Etheridge

Try Something New ...

I haven't found myself with a lot to say recently. Which, in turn, annoys me and saddens me. Bah. I tend to write in cycles, either binging with a ton of writing at once or none at all, but not blogging at all? That's just crazy.

So I'm going to try just typing something small, something quick, before I go to work every morning. Wouldn't it figure that I'd try this out on a Friday? Ahh, well. Here's my something.

....

Well, I've drawn a blank. I'm doing a lot of reading, a lot of playing with a two year old, and working (and trying to ignore work). That doesn't lead to many interesting things. Still, I'll treat you with a two year old's joke.

Knock, knock.
Who's there?
Banana.
Banana who?
Banana orange!

Ok, what makes the joke is the most adorable "I'm telling you something funny" tone she uses. Still, I think the confusion about an old joke is also pretty darned cute. But then again, I'm related to her. I have to think that.