For Everything Else...

Remember those old "Priceless" MasterCard commercials that started back in the late '90s?

They were pretty cute.

It would list some series of expensive items, followed by some monetarily invalid statement about how whatever facet of life was more important than money. The closing statement was "There are some things money can't buy. For everything else, there's MasterCard."

This statement came to mind this morning.

The Receptionist's first husband died this morning. It left her feeling very shaken and very upset, although it's a death that has been anticipated for quite some time.

(On a side note, here's hoping that it kicks her in the pants to start being more healthy. She's older than he was, and is in poor health herself.)

So I spent more time than expected covering the front desk today.

Unfortunately, life doesn't come to a stop just because there's a ringing phone to answer. Also on the docket today has been an incredible amount of fixation over the miles-long to do list that's scrolling through my brain.

I have a vacation eeking upon on me, and have been absolutely swamped with moving and with family time lately, so vacation preparations have fallen to the wayside. It's got me pretty frazzled. Also high on the frazzling spectrum**1 was the phone call I received from an irate vendor this morning claiming a repossession charge against us.

The situation unfolded in a frustrating fashion, and before we hung up the phone I had told the woman "Do you think I'm just going to whip out my personal credit card and take care of this here? That's not how it works, honey." She stammered as though I had slapped her.

Admittedly, I felt bad after... but not bad enough to appologize. After all, there wouldn't be any discussion of repossession if she could get invoices to us in a timely fashion in the first place.

Nonetheless, I had a busy mind as I sat here waiting for the phone to ring and the other shoe to drop.

But, as I sat, one of the more mild mannered EngineerFriends approached my desk. I braced myself for a request that I wouldn't really have time to handle. He leaned on the counter, looking down at his hands and the three dollars he held in them.

"I found these upstairs," he said. "I don't think they're mine, so I wanted to bring them down and ask that you find their rightful owner."

Now, we should note again that this man is an Engineer. Three dollars' worth of his time is an insanely short series of seconds. Three dollars of my time is nothing to spit at, either... but, nonetheless, I penned a note to the masses:

"An undisclosed**2 amount of money was just turned over to Lost and Found. If you’re (legitimately) missing some greenery from your pocket, please let either myself or [Receptionist] know before 4:00 p.m. today.

"If not claimed by 4:00 p.m., this will be turned over as a donation to the next Bagel Friday and a hearty Thank You will be issued to the anonymous contributor.

"Engineer's Time to Turn Over $3 to Lost & Found: $10

"Administrator's Time to Write Note to Masses about Lost Money: $5

Administrator's Time to Field E-mails and Phone Calls about Bogus Lost Money: $15

Restoring Faith in Humanity or Finding Out That an EngineerFriend Cares About Doing the Right Thing: Priceless

**1 Note To Self: Create a "Frazzling Spectrum." It will become the new standard upon which workdays are based, and will singlehandedly lift you from the doldrums of corporate life by shooting you to superstardom. Reserve your date with Ellen now.

**2 If I told them straight up how much had been turned over, everyone would show up claiming it's theirs. Human nature - although it's dishonest, it's not unexpected. So we combat it straightaway.