Happy Monday, ReaderFriend! (And i'n'it a loooooovely Monday'? Yes... you should laugh. A Mel Brook's quote should *always* receive laughter.)
Yes, my dearhearts, it's Monday. But it's a much nicer Monday than the most recent one. The temperature has dropped into the blissful seventies, making breathing and sleeping and sitting (and even moving) much more comfortable. The sun is shining and there's the slightest hint of a breeze, which is also nice... And today is a short day for me! (Yay!) So I'm sure that's coloring my attitude as well. (Although it was lovely to have the extra hours for a fuller paycheck last week, I must admit that the few hours of time off on Monday afternoons helps me to keep my social life in check. I spend those hours visiting people too far away to drive after-hours to see.)
Last week, I kicked myself into gear after realizing how neglectful I have been of you all. I felt absolutely horrid, I must admit, for having posted only once every week-and-a-half for you. Who am I to withhold from you the nuggets of wisdom, humor and delight gleaned within these taupe walls? Exactly.
As you may remember, the biggest excitement last week was the Ice Cream Social. It was well received, I must admit, even by the complainers of our little group. And there were even some leftovers (which I am now craving... I must resist! I must resist!) so people could have a little snack throughout Friday afternoon. (Unless you are the resident Fatty-Fat-Fatso, who cleaned out three half-gallons over Thursday afternoon, right after the social... Yes, we saw you. Yes, we know it was *only* you. No one else dared touch the stuff until I gave the all-clear. Shame. Big shame. P.S. - Don't you dare complain at me about struggling with your diet anymore. I have no sympathy for you. And it's not just because you finished all the black raspberry... although admittedly that's one of the deciding factors.)
There were other exciting moments throughout the week, though. Like when my partner-in-crime was struck ill and couldn't be in the office for Thursday OR Friday, leaving me all alone to my administrative devices. Which was simultaneously entertaining and infuriating, during moments when I needed to go copy a document onto an employees hard drive just to insert it into an e-mail, because "She always does that for me, and she's not here."
Which leads me to the *most* exciting moment-that-wasn't-the-ice-
Two little boxes marked with a vendor's name were sitting on my desk when I returned from my lunch break on Tuesday. Slightly off-put, I wondered what they were as I tore into the first box and encountered shiny, glittery packaging encasing a little fuzzy-haired man with a grimace and wild eyes. I carefully removed him from the box and took in his stress-ball-like texture. 'How convenient!' I thought. 'Just as we're dealing with all of that reorganization stress, this shows up to help!' And so, I decided to give him a little squeeze. Maybe his eyes would pop out, or something would come out of his ears and I would be simultaneously amused and less stressed...
But no.
He started to scream at me.
"RELAX! Caaalm down, now! Doooon't stress! Taaake it eaaasy....." (Forgive the awful spelling. It's the only way to explain his drawl.)
His loud, grating voice startled me, bumped my bloodpressure and made me drop the blasted little bugger on the floor, where he promptly speechified again (this time to my toes.) Once he had stopped shouting, and I had stopped hyperventilating at being startled, I began to laugh. I had an amazing tool of comedic relief in my hot little hands, and it needed to make the rounds.
And so it did.
And over the course of fifteen minutes, you could hear a chorus of laughter from every spot the little darling stopped to visit with a frazzled worker.
But wait! There were two boxes! I said that before. What was in the other one, you ask? 'Get on with telling us!' you say. 'We don't want to hear the rest of the story until we know what *other* surprises lay in store!' Well, tough cookies. It was just more of the same. And they sound really awful in stereo, so I gave the second one to its rightful recipient.**
My real question regarding this whole situation is this, though: How did the vendor know we were stressed enough to need this little reminder to sit back and let things be for a moment?
And that's where this article comes into play that I stumbled across last week.
It is entitled "Seven Ways To Beat Stress At Work." (Actually, it is entitled "7 Ways..." but I am of the school of thought that numbers smaller than twenty should be spelled out. Yahoo! was just lazy. But I can't say much. Remember, I'm the blogger that can't even put together posts on a regular basis. Hello, all. I'm kettle.) And even the opening paragraph made me smile:
"It's Wednesday afternoon and you're sitting at your desk at work -- your jaw is clenched, your neck muscles are tight, and it feels like something you ate for lunch is not agreeing with you. You have a meeting with your boss in 15 minutes, and you have no idea what it is about. You can't concentrate on anything. When your brain goes into stress mode at work, your ability to think and solve problems diminishes. As your options become less clear, you shift from just being stressed to panicking."
Now that's uncanny! So often I work myself into a snit because a bunch of small inconveniences create a conundrum in my tummy that broils itself into a full-blown catastrophe just through my own doings. Apparently I am among friends, as they would have written this article in hopes that one weary admin in a small northern town would stumble across it on a dreary afternoon just when she needed it most. And lucky for us, there are a number of things that one in this situation can do to help one's self settle down:
Before you start feeling as though I've lost my mind, please note: There are many other ways to work around your stress. Some people find comfort in menial tasks: filing, moving/lifting boxes, cleaning, or other activities that can be done on "autopilot." These can be helpful in that your hands are moving, your mind can shut off and you're still working towards your goal of doing something for your employer. Others find it helpful to leave the workplace entirely when they get stressed: walk to get a coffee, sit in the car and listen to a song, or even take a sick day (or partial day) to gather their wits. (I'm not a proponent of the Mental Health Day, but I know for some it's a must. And if I thought it would help me, instead of stressing me out more by making me feel guilty about shirking my responsibilities, I'd be all over that like sauerkraut on a sausage.)
However, this "New Age" answer to office stress is one I haven't encountered before (outside of the breathing exercises) and would really like to see work. And so now, I present this question to you ReaderFriend:
What do you do when you're stressed out at work?
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MONDAY NOONTIME NOMS!
"I'm in a bit of trouble because I went to sleep last night, instead of working."
(By an EngineerFriend who was slightly stressed regarding a project he was struggling with.)
"I think I talk to you more than I talk to my wife!"
(By a client who, in his defense, does call *remarkably* often.)
"You know that thing, that 'I can change anything!' attitude? Well, I grew out of that right quick. It just doesn't happen."
(By a client who's so jaded, I worry that his nose is going to start turning green. I only asked him how he felt about books versus the Kindle... And then told him technological books are a fad.)
"I would marry her for her accent."
(By a client who wants desperately to move to some foreign land he's visited a bunch of times because 'You fall in love a hundred times a day over there.')
"Everyone needs a taste of the potato action."
(By the same client, who is a proponent of potato guns in the home. He told me this witty one-liner after telling me the story of how he shot his son under the bathroom door while said son was pooping.)
"Binoculars never seem as cool in person as they do on TV."
(By an employee - notably, not an Engineer - who was trying to watch a bird out the window with the binoculars we keep for that reason.)
Engineer Friend: "Why is EngineerFriend walking his dog outside?"
Sunny: "Because if he walks it inside, it might poop on the floor."
(I don't get witty in the office very often. It needed to be documented.)
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Have a Sunny Day!
** Before you go thinking I louse with the mail system, please read this: Both were addressed only to "IT Manager." We officially don't have one of those at this location. We have The Guy Who Works On Computers, but I don't think his title even involves the letters "I" or "T," and he gets hives at the concept of managerial-ism. So I gave him one of of the things, and he said "Huh." and put it in a pile to take home for his child. This made me realize how okay it was for me to hold on to the duplicate.
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