Showing posts with label snippets. Show all posts
Showing posts with label snippets. Show all posts

Wednesday, June 5, 2013

Hullo? Hulloooo...

A PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT
TO OFFICE WORKERS WHO MAKE PERSONAL PHONE CALLS
FROM THEIR DESKS


I appreciate that a work environment can, at times, be soul-sucking.

And time-sucking.

And life-sucking. 

(Yeah. I'm on to something with the suck factor here. You know it.)

Now, it's not always... but some days are just sub-par.

It is with this understanding of sub-par-ocity that I come into this conversation not wholeheartedly vexed, but admittedly somewhat muddled.

You see, I'm slightly confused how you can have so much time during your day to make phone calls that have absolutely nothing to do with your employment.

I mean, sure... I've calculated that about 20% of your time is spent micromanaging your neighbors. A rough approximation, to be certain, calculable only based upon the number of minutes I've wasted waiting for you to explain - in infinite detail - how I can arrive at the answer to a question that would take you only seconds to share.

The other 80% of your time spent here, based upon the numbers I've crunched, are spent on the phone, specifically for things that have nothing to do with your employment.

Of course, sometimes there are exceptions to the "Keep Work At Work and Home At Home" rule. I've been known to step out into the parking lot and field a call with my bank or my doctor, who work only the same hours that I do. On those occasions, of course it's necessary to step away from work and take care of business.

But there's a key factor there I think you might be missing:

Step Away.

I understand that some establishments certainly make scheduling difficult. But when I'm listening to your third iteration of a question regarding your sweetie's next check-up, it starts to wig me out. Honestly, after all the chatter I've heard from you, it's a wonder I can't perform the appointment myself. I feel like you're talking about my besty with whom I've been taking baths together since we were in diapers, so in-depth are the details I can provide to her health.

I also understand that having children in school can be difficult, because school hours are often within working hours. So, on occasion, of course you'll need to spend time talking on the phone with their teachers or even with them to make sure progress is progressing progressively. But when I'm listening to you listening to your offspring babble animatedly about using the blue crayon to color the sky, and then the green crayon to color the grass all while I'm elbow deep in actual work carnage, it corners me into wanting to do terribly unkind things to you with those very crayons. And then your kid would be sad, because one cannot be an artist with rectally entombed crayons.
But I think my biggest gripe is listening to you argue with your cell phone company. Or the bank. Or any other institution by whom you've been taken under contract for your living ease, only for you to make pathetic demands upon them because you cannot fathom someone doing what they do without your complete and total control over the situation.

don't care that you've never lost your debit card before, or that you're a "model customer" at the bank. I hope they double the fee for replacing that card, and make you shell out ten bucks just for making that phone call.

Because haven't you spent that much already in taking the time to stop work for half an hour just to argue with them on the phone?

I mean... you've certainly wasted that much of mine, disrupting my day with your shenanigans.**1

RaYD,

Sunny

**1 It should be noted that I realize how this makes me sound like a snoop and an eavesdropper. The case, my good ReaderFriend, is exactly the opposite I'm afraid. The conversations are so animated and noisy that they are impossible to ignore. Were I capable, I would auditorally block this individual altogether: It would be totally worth it not just for the phone calls, but for the completely disgusting gargling of post-nasal-drip upon which he imbibes so frequently.

And it makes me gag every time.

Every. Blasted. Time.

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

My One Cent

I've been thinking about this day for months!

That's right... months!!

(No, goofball. I didn't sit down and plan out months ago that I would be excited on a Tuesday in September just for the hell of it. I have a reason. You just have to sit tight and find out what it is with the rest of the Everyones.)

This blog post that you're reading....

Yes, this very post right here...

THIS BLOG POST IS THE 100th POST THAT I HAVE POSTED!

How incredible is that?!

I have, over the year-and-some-undetermined-number-of-months-that-I-really-don't-feel-like-counting, been excited to entertain and amaze you with the stories of my Shenanigans. The exciting characters and plot lines here are just too juicy to make up - It's wonderful to have this safe space here with you to share these little tidbits and hopefully a smile or two along the way.

So how did I celebrate this momentous occasion, you ask?

(As well you should ask. It's a momentous occasion indeed, and deserves celebrating.)

This morning, I shipped Boyfriend of Amazingness off for an overnight work 'do. But not before making sure he was well and thoroughly infected with some sort of jungle plague. Sniffles? Check. Cough? Check. Wheeze? Super check. Then I just had to wake him up early and push him out the door.**1

I spent most of the morning frantically trying to get caught up on projects.

When I wasn't frantically trying to get caught up on projects, I was thundering around my cubby with steam pouring out of my ears.

See, this wasn't a particularly momentous occasion for the Coworkers-From-A-Former-Life. So they thought perhaps today would be as good a day as any to subject my hair to third-degree brainburns, instead of bringing me cuppycakes.

Which prompts me to end this blog post the way this whole Blog idea began:

Public Service Announcement 
to Users of the "Carbon Copy" Feature On E-mails

Thank you for your efforts to completely undermine an entire team of hard workers with your carbon-copied shenanigans. Not only did you succeed in involving four additional people on an e-mail that required only three from the very beginning, but you did so with such zest and authority that you managed to alienate two of the (arguably) kindest individuals in the entire building. With that, you have demoted yourself quite thoroughly to the bottom of my proverbial totem pole. Beware: If you sniff while you're down there you'll probably pick up an earthworm.

Upon taking charge, you promptly decided that the previously involved individuals must have spent the past week-and-a-half munching on bonbons and enjoying adorable YouTube videos of How To Wrap Your Cat for Christmas.**1 I assure you that this wasn't the case. I do thank you, though, for being there to tell us each step we needed to take - without a premonition of your firm and understanding guidance, we would never have gone through exactly the same steps a week prior, and would have most certainly needed to ask for additional assistance today.

Oh, wait.

RaYD,
Sunny

**1 Shoutout, Mom. I love you! Thank you for making the ungiggly days more giggly with your YouTube finds.

Also: Shoutout to Boyfriend of Amazingness, who won't see this because he thinks he hears all the stories fresh from the Sunny's mouth. Which isn't wrong. But still. Sometimes my clever phrasing is more clever in writing. So here's to you, my wonderfully patient sounding board. Thank you for listening while I sit on the couch and steam during your videogames and your favorite sitcoms. And thank you for sharing your own horror stories, too, so I know that I'm not on this little adventure through occasional malcontent alone.

Monday, July 16, 2012

Dancey Dancey, Jump for Joy!

Woah!
No, seriously - Woah!!
Today, upon returning from my long weekend away from the bonds of technology**1, do you know what I found?
(Of course you don't. I haven't told you yet, and you aren't psychic. If you were, you'd be using your powers to figure out the deeper meaning behind the Matrix movies or something, instead of wasting your time here on my ramblings.)
We have just hit 1,000 views!
DearEngineerFriend has been looked at 1,000 times within the past 14 months.
That's 71 views per month!!
That's 2.3 views per day!!!
That's SO EXCITING!!!!
And in celebration of this momentus occasion...
I have absolutely nothing.
(This kind of snuck up on me.)
I didn't prepare something in anticipation of reaching this milestone... I just figured it would happen eventually and the perfect words would be at the tip of my fingers.
(Because spur-of-the-moment words are so easy to come by, doncha know...)
They aren't.
Instead of crafting perfect verbage, I spent my morning weeding through e-mails that came in over my long weekend**2 and trying to figure out how the world will handle my impending 2-week vacation.
But as I was doing that, I did assemble a snippet to share... So we'll call this the celebration.
Public Service Announcement to Fellow Office Dwellers
We've covered before how I feel about Monday Mornings. They are just the life-sucky-est. But we forge boldly onward, secure in the knowledge that tomorrow is NOT Monday, and the week will get better.
However, what Monday mornings are is a termination of the weekend. That means we buckle down and get back to the unsavory duties we must accomplish within our Establishment of Organized Chaos.
And by 'unsavory duties,' I do NOT mean clipping your fingernails at your desk. No, I'm serious. Your morning schedule should include e-mails and returning phone calls... not basic hygiene. You had a whole weekend just a few hours ago in which to fling little clipping shards about your home with wild abandon. Which leads me to believe that one of two things is happening:
1) You have only one pair of clippers, which you keep them in your desk drawer next to your emergency roll of duct tape. And you accidentally killed a hobo with your claws this morning, so a police officer mandated that you groom.
2) You use clippings to spice your morning coffee, to give your Monday morning a little extra pick-you-up.
Either way, my Monday morning routine - and my Me - is being thoroughly and deeply disturbed by your Monday morning routine. Something's gotta give... And at the rate you're going, it's going to be the tip of your finger and my stomach.
RaYD,
Sunny
**1 And when I escape technology... I do it pre-7th-century style. And it's epic.
**2 Did I mention that it was epic?

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Chats That Need No Explanation

Sunny: ManagerFriend, it's time for your department meeting.
ManagerFriend: Are these them?
Sunny: Yes, dear. This is your Mechanical Department. Please allow me to introduce you to EngineerFriend and Drafter Friend.
EngineerFriend: [extends hand to ManagerFriend] Hello. I'm EngineerFriend - the answer to all your problems.
DrafterFriend: [extends hand to ManagerFriend] Hello. I'm your drafter... and I am your problem.
 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sunny: "The client is on the phone. He says he thinks the call got cut off."
EngineerFriend: "It did - I hung up."
 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 
Sunny: "That guy wigs me out."
DrafterFriend: "Is it the fastidiously trimmed goatee? [Because] A man with such control of his facial hair should be treated with the utmost respect, and a smattering of fear."

Thursday, June 28, 2012

Black Market Beverages

Public Service Announcement to the Ample Chested Cleptomaniac

I understand that smuggling drinks is tricky business. You have to wait for just the right moment - when the local Patrol isn't looking - and make your move.

However, perhaps there's a better way to go about retrieving your loot than to hug it tightly to your chest. You see, as a Woman of Moderate Proportion, you have chest aplenty to hug before you load yourself down with pilfered whistle-wetters. Almost anything would work... Might I suggest a small basket, a la Red Riding Hood?

I only suggest it because, as you're clutching your bosom and squeaking "It's falling! It's falling!", you leave me little choice but to giggle and watch you sort yourself out.

Because, really, what else could I do? Rush forward and make a grab for it?

Right. That could only end well.

RaYD,

Sunny

Monday, June 25, 2012

Greetings, Greetings...

Public Service Announcement
Perhaps I've got hold of the wrong end of the stick. Please correct me if I misunderstand you, but when you say "How are you," what you're really looking for as a response from me is silence so as not to impede your headfirst propulsion into your demand for my action. Because I certainly can't tell you how fabulously my day is going in the thirty nanoseconds you allow for my report.

Perhaps it would behoove us both to dispense with this frivolity of conversation? It seems equally pointless for me to waste valuable moments inquiring after your well-being when I could instead commit them to chasing your constantly-moving target. Especially since the highest response you can afford is a half-hearted smile and a nod in my direction as you hasten away.

Really, I'm not that scary. And sometimes I even smell nice.

RaYD,
Sunny

Friday, June 22, 2012

9-1-1

Public Service Announcement
Regarding 'High Importance' E-Mails

HOLD YOUR HORSES. Put down the phone. Push away from your keyboard. Close your mouth and sit still, for goodness sake.

You’re communicating my brains out. And to what end? 
I saw your e-mail marked “High Importance”

Worst. Button. Ever.

about some cockamamie issue that you - Grand Poo-Bah Crieswolf Allatime - has escalated to a CRISIS OF EPIC PROPORTIONS. And now, because of this earth shattering conundrum, I'm required to drop everything and settle you down.

If I didn't do that to your liking, I'm terribly sorry.

However, the appropriate chain of events here would be:

1) Indulge in your crisis.

2) Allow me to settle the crisis for you as you pace about my office making helpful comments about how I should do your job.

3) Move on.

The appropriate chain of events is most certainly never:

1) Indulge in your crisis.

1a) E-mail me about your crisis

1b) Call me to tell me that you e-mailed me about your crisis.

1c) Ignore my statement about "handling another situation right now" in favor of summing up your e-mail over the phone.

1d) Walk into my cube and proceed to pace back and forth in the doorway until you see me check your e-mail.

2) Allow me to settle your crisis for you as you pace about my cube making helpful comments about how I should do your job, and (while you're at it) how I should do my own job when I get back to it.

3) Walk back to your own cube to find an e-mail from someone else involved with your project; the verbage in which completely negates my entire involvement.

Believe it or not, I'm desperate to send you some communication of my own.

Respectfully as You Deserve (RaYD),

Sunny

Monday, June 18, 2012

Get Your Tickets...

Dear Passerby:
Thank you so much for noticing me as I scratched the back of my neck. I do, in fact, take great pride in being the Svelte Sunny that you know and admire. Additionally, I'm so glad you were here for the Gun Show, as I was totally flexing and being vain and definitely not attending to the tickly hairs caught in my necklace. Thank God you were here to look on, because I wouldn't have wanted to waste such an awe-inspiring display on an empty room... even if, as you say, there is "never a bad time to show off those pipes."
RaYD,
Sunny

Friday, April 13, 2012

Back to Our Roots

Hey there, ReaderFriends!
When I started this blog, I called it 'Dear EngineerFriend'. And... it wasn't a blog. It was a series of mini mis-adventures that I posted through my favorite social networking site as they happened during my workdays. And recently, I've had a lot of these moments. I thought perhaps we'd take a sojourn back to our humble beginnings as I try my hand at a few new snippets to share.
I hope you enjoy the fruits of my last few days' pain!
Sparkles,
Sunny

Just One More Service I Offer...
Sunny: Hello?
CoWorker: Umm... Hi...
S: Is everything okay?
CW: Yeah, I'm just expecting a call...
S: Would you like me to page you when it comes in?
CW: No, I think it might come to my direct line...
S: Oh? So you're staying at your desk. Is there anything I can help with there?
CW: Well... I kinda... Shit. I really want a cup of coffee.
Deja-Vu
Dear EngineerFriend:
Proudly declaring your position in the Department of Redundancy Department is not a commendable action... Nor is is an accomplishment worthy of the self-commendation and joy sparkling on your face.

It mostly just makes me go "Argh." 

And roll my eyes,
Respectfully As You Deserve (RaYD),

Sunny