Are you brain dead?

err, I mean, Hi! How are you? Are you brain dead?

Sorry, sorry, I don’t mean to be so hostile but you have really been annoying me. Like a lot. Can I just get some things off my chest and maybe that’ll help with the situation? See, I’ve got some issues with your bathroom behavior and I don’t think I can take it much longer.

Let’s start with the bathroom lights. I know that we all want to be green and save the Earth and sometimes turning off the bathroom lights seems like a great way to do this, but do you think you could start checking to make sure the stalls are empty before you flick the switch to off? Because it sucks to be minding your own business and right when you go to reach for the toilet paper BAM DARKNESS. I feel like the logical next event will be my death at the hands of a serial killer that doesn’t want me to know he’s been following my bathroom habits and knows that when my pants are down I am at my weakest. If this continues I will be forced to shroud each of you in darkness and pretend to be said killer. I might end up in jail, but I bet you’ll never turn the bathroom lights out again.

I don’t know if you’re aware but we work in a fairly nice office building. An office building that doesn’t get much random germ-infested hobo foot traffic. Our bathrooms are surprisingly clean and yet you still flush with your foot. You do realize that forces me to either have to flush with my foot, which is sometimes impossible if I’m wearing heels or nice clothes, or touch the handle that you just dragged the bottom of your shoe across. Do you not see how this is wrong? I have always washed my hands after using the bathroom but, thanks to the bottom of your shoe, I now do it with scalding hot water and scrub scrub scrub. Lady MacBeth would be so proud. Now my hands hurt, so it’s time for you to stop with the foot flushing. Guess what, the only reason you need to foot flush is because you’ve gunked up the handle the last time you were in there! If you stop there would be no reason to foot flush! We can all be happy and I can stop hating you!

And sometimes, when you leave your things on the counter while you are in a stall, I think about taking them to make us even. Do you see what you’ve reduced me to?!?

Sincerely,
Regan

Any other suggestions?

Is there really any need for me to explain why Mondays suck? Does anyone out there actually like Mondays? Can we all agree that Mondays following holiday weekends are the worst?

Bad Monday Thing 1. I got up extra early this morning to finish a work project that I should have completed over the weekend, but forgot about. Then my laptop was being a bitch so I had to actually sit at my desk and work. That’s double punishment for being a slacker.

BMT 2. I got to the office, only to realize that I had a game tonight. And that game days mean going in late. Which means I could have slept in and completed my project after the sun came up. Also, I was not dressed to see clients as I was in jeans and motorcycle boots.

BMT 3. Pulled up to a red light and the guy next to me pointed at my passenger side tire and made the international symbol for “your tire is flat!” Turns out I had a nail in it. The thing is that yesterday I thought my car was driving kinda like I had a low tire but I didn’t check. You know, because that would have been the smart thing to do.

BMT 4. Got to Wheel Works and found out this is the 4th nail I’ve had in my tires in a year. How many plugs can tires have before they just explode? Perhaps I should stop driving around construction yards looking for hot pieces of ass. I think that’s where I keep getting nailed.

BMT 5. I wore a thin-ish shirt with a thin-ish bra. I kept everyone updated about the temperature all day.

BMT 6. Since the tire place had my car there was no afternoon coffee for me. And we all know how chipper I am when I miss a caffeine dose.

BMT 7. Kevin DuBrow was found dead. WHY GOD WHY?!? I’m going to mourn in my own way, light a candle and softly sing “Cum On Feel the Noize”

Here in my office building each floor has its own set of bathrooms, one women’s room with several stalls, and a men’s room with a couple of stalls and a urinal (I assume because I’m not quite ballsy ((Heh, ballsy get it?)) to go in there to check). The other women that work on my floor use the bathroom on our floor. None of us walk up or down the stairs unless we are out of toilet paper, or someone has pooped ALL OVER THE TOILETS, which was the case last week. (Seriously, on the toilets not in them. It was really quite the amazing feat)

But the boys are a different story, it’s not uncommon to see them walk to another floor to use the bathroom. At first I thought they were just doing this when they have to drop the kids off at the pool but, unless they all have kids that like to go to the pool multiple times daily, I think they do this whenever they go to the bathroom.

I’m so baffled by this behavior. Is there some kind of universally understood man law that all men must use the bathroom furtherest from them? Are they worried that some one in their office will go the bathroom at the same time and see their man parts? Can’t they just use a stall if that’s the case?

So come on boys, fess up. Why are all of the men in my building doing this? Do you all do this? Do you enjoy hiking to the bathroom? Does it give you extra time to load the cannons so once you get there you can fire at will?

This has been a really long week for jparks and I. His team announced their project this past Monday and that meant many days of going into the office at 8am and not coming home until 1am. And, since I’m not one to sit at home, I signed up for some extra circus classes this week and had to work some nights too. This means we saw each other for about 28 seconds on Wednesday night and then maybe another 46 second this morning. And that was it FOR THE WHOLE WEEK. In fact, we’ve seen each other so little of each other that I was a bit shocked when I walked into the bathroom this morning and there was a man in my shower. Hello and Good Morning!

So, in order to secure some time with my husband, I sent him an email stating that I’ve declared it date night and booked a table for two at a nearby restaurant. (I also might have threaten to kick his boss’s ass if jparks pussed out on me) I’m not saying which restaurant because jparks will read this and it’ll ruin the surprise. But I will tell you that’s it’s close to an Apple Store because, dang it, date night WILL include me getting a new MacBook.

I hope that our lives calm down a tiny bit in the next few weeks. I’m not sure how long jparks can work on such a crazy schedule without burning out. And I’m not sure how long I can handle having him basically live at Google. I mean, I do get some comfort from my loneliness in the form of shoes, but that can only last a girl so long. Although, shoes could probably last this girl a really really long time.

Know what sucks? Not being able to check luggage when you fly. See, I’m going to LA tomorrow for two days and I’m flying with my boss. He has forbidden me from checking luggage which isn’t a huge deal for a two day trip. Unless you’re me and you need lots of liquids. Liquids like shampoo, toothpaste, deodorant, face lotion, hair product, mascara, lip gloss, should I keep going or do you the idea? And I only get to bring 3 ounce bottles of stuff and one zip top bag.

This is why I don’t vacation for just a couple of days. When you go for more than three days you’re expected to check luggage. You’re expected to bring toothpaste. And a full sized deodorant. Glorious, glorious full sized things. When we went to Maui I brought 40 bottles of sunscreen. Just. Because. I Could.

The other issue with not checking luggage is that it takes up one of the two vital carry on spots you get. So tomorrow the camera will have to go into the luggage. As well as my laptop. And my in flight entertainment will have to be carried in my purse. So it can’t be anything bigger than a book. This is not going to end well. I need lots of stuff to make me forget that I’m in the air. I need lots of stuff to keep my mind off of the fact that I might puke right into the lap of the stranger sitting next to me.

Oy, at least there will be drinks poolside when I land.

There is a meme going around the interwebs right now that has you realize how you are wasting your life at your current job by pointing out all the careers you would be really good at and that you would actually enjoy. It’s like a trip to your high school guidance counselor but 10 years too late.

I finally broke down after seeing the lovely Ms. Chez Shoes take the quiz and get slotted for many things including: dog groomer, sign maker, and butcher. Wow, such diversity! I had to find out what I’m meant to do career wise. Maybe I was supposed to be a sign maker too. I’ve always loved the smell of tempera paint. And glitter is so much fun.

After completing the quiz my results popped up and they really weren’t all that diverse:

1. Elementary School Teacher
2. High School Teacher
3. Teacher Assistant
4. Early Childhood Educator
5. Professor
6. Nanny
7. Communications Specialist
8. Print Journalist
9. Critic
10. Market Research Analyst
11. Writer
12. Translator
13. Activist
14. Public Relations Specialist
15. Political Aide
16. Public Policy Analyst
17. Special Education Teacher
18. Physical Education Teacher
19. Adoption Counselor
20. Career Counselor
21. Music Teacher / Instructor
22. Lifeguard
23. Foreign Language Instructor
24. ESL Teacher
25. Correctional Officer
26. Actor

How many times can “You shouldn’t have switched out of the education department in college, you moron” be stated in one list? Apparently, a lot.

I understand that I probably should have been a teacher but really the most fitting suggestions on the list are lifeguard and actor. Because when people meet me they always ask if I ever auditioned for Baywatch. I just look like I should be wearing a red bikini, holding a flotation device, and running down the beach in slow-mo. awww yeah.

Have you ever been having a conversation with me and I just steamrolled you, mid sentence, no apologies, you need to listen to ME now? Dear god, I cringe. And I apologize. Crap, I’m an ass.

See, I never realized I did that until yesterday. No really, I had no clue. The way I found out was my boss had to tell me to shut up and let him finish. Okay, so he didn’t say shut up, but he did have to tell me to let him finish. At first I was a bit shocked, “How dare he tell me to let him finish!” But then I realized “Holy crap I need to let him finish!” I sat there for the rest of the time he was speaking, nodding occasionally, waiting patiently for my turn. It was probably the first time I ever waited for my turn to speak.

I can honestly say I have no idea how long I’ve interrupted people like this. I think it happens when I’m trying to make a point that I understand what we are talking about. Or if I think I have more information on the subject and you need to know it rightthissecondnoitcannotwait. Or if I just want you to shut up.

I’m going to try to control this urge from now on, but I’m not sure how successful I’ll be. Yesterday afternoon, the same afternoon that he had to tell me to let him finish, I ran all over my boss again. But, at least this time I recognized I was doing it. And I kinda cut myself short. And then I tried to sit there nodding until he was done. Nod nod nod It just seems so pointless. And condescending. Nodding adds nothing! But I will do it. I must do it!

I’ll probably only succeed at this if I buy myself a muzzle. Or a ball gag. That would totally keep me quiet.

I have a confession: I am horrible with names. Beyond horrible actually. If you tell me your name, I will forget it in less than 10 seconds. That’s a guarantee, forgotten in 10 seconds or less or your money back.

This has never been much of a problem until recently. Since starting my new job I’ve met tons of people and, since my job is client services, I really should be remembering all of their names. But I can’t. I shake their hands and politely introduce myself to them and then Wham! forget their name as soon as they say it. It’s even worse when I’m on the phone with a person. They introduce them self and my ears blank out their name. “Hi this is cricket sounds and I’m calling…”

You would think in my private life I might make more of an effort to remember people’s names, but I don’t. Since joining Trapeze Arts I’ve met a bunch of people and can’t tell you one of their names. The sad part is that now I’ve seen them enough times that I can’t ask their names, that would be rude and weird. So I’m stuck waiting for someone else to call our their name so I can make a mental note of it.

Seems tiring doesn’t it? It really is. I spend a lot of time eavesdropping on conversations in the hopes that I’ll learn a name or two. I don’t know why I have this block against learning names and even when I have the best intentions to remember them, it seems I can’t.

On the other hand, I really am a nosy person and I love having a half way decent reason to eavesdrop. Maybe I unconsciously don’t learn people’s names so I can continue to do this guilt free. dear god, that’s sick and I might want to get some help.

Happy Thanksgiving. I’m thankful for having the day off from making a post. What? I have to make a post? Damn, you people are slave drivers.

A few days ago I saw this on dsandler.org and decided that I had to do it as well. The pictures were taken on Tuesday, the last day I worked this week. Some pictures are on the blurry side, as I was using my camera phone some hours. (read as: I was too lazy to dig around under my desk and get out the D80)

9am: I overslept and am only leaving for work, rather than actually being at work on time.

10am: It was my boss’ turn to bring coffee and he didn’t show up with it until 10. We are going to need to discuss this arrangement if he wants to keep trading off days.

11am: Looky, I went to a secretive, private, exclusive establishment known as our mailbox.

noon: Getting my NaBloPoMo post for today completed.

1pm: I went to Stanford mall during my lunch. yay for shopping during the work day.

2pm: Time to check my email and to have another cup of coffee. Iced this time.

3pm: I had to run out to my car and stop to take pictures of myself. You know, because I’m so pretty.

4pm: I had just finished a phone call to one of our venues to discuss all the problems we’ve been having with service. Is it really too much to ask for juggling albino midgets, riding on unicorns to be in our suite for every event? I think not.

5pm: Stopping to get dinner, which was a mistake as every person in the South Bay Area was shopping for Thanksgiving

6pm: Dinnertime. The chicken doesn’t look very appealing, but it was tasty.

This was fun, maybe we’ll do it again soon.