Category: office supplies

The M Stands Accused

On or about the day of September 18 in the year of our Lord two thousand and twelve, the defendant was seen both loitering and malingering in the hallway at my place of employ.

Slouching fetchingly on the top of a lateral file cabinet. The tramp.

And on said date, on or about 3:42pm, the defendant stands accused of calling out in a beckoning, sultry, irresistible manner.

So alluring was this siren call that no reasonable man or woman, especially woman, could be expected to maintain even a modicum of self-control in the face of such raw, base power.

As a result of the defendant’s irresponsible actions, the victim was thusly lured to the defendant and did partake of the goodies offered thereto.

And it was good.

However, the defendant now stands accused of gross misconduct, excessive deliciousness, and being the addictive combination of sugar, fat and salt.

The victim hereby claims damages to her waistline, thighs and double chin. And a big pile of guilt on her shoulders for all to see.

And so, you criminal, you plague of society, you vile tempter, how to you plead in the face of such strong allegations?



Peanut Butter M&M’s, you sneaky bastards!


Playing silent eh? We’ll see about that.

You and your little friends, you are going to be put away someplace for a very long time.

A very, very long time.

Git in mah bellay!





Image from Terribly Awesome.



Ok Little Miss Reluctant Muse, Let’s Dance

Writer’s block. It’s on me again.

Who or what should I blame? My brain overburdened by a global job and a lot of work? My blabbermouthing about how easy I could flow words to a friend over happy hour drinks last October? Fatigue?

Or is it simply the ebb and flow of creativity? Today the stream runs strong. Tomorrow it’s drier than the Rio Grande in July.

I don’t know but I’m frustrated all to heck by the lack of rhythm and flow to my writing. I’ve still produced some stuff but lately it feels labored.

Today I was reading back posts and I actually envied myself for how easy and effortless it seemed even just a year ago.

The more I feel frustrated, the less likely The Muse wants to play.

Ok, so let’s just not take anything very seriously at all.

Back to free form, free association. It’s a self-indulgent exercise. And I dig it.

I’m playing the Unconscious Mutterings game this week.

Revealing!


  1. Tenure ::

    That thing that all professors want, right? Means you are all dug in there like a tick and ya ain’t going anywhere. Mainly it’s a good thing but I gotta be honest, there are some rather tenured folks in my non-academic job that really are more roadblock than firebrand. Tenure can lead to laconic in a hurry. I appreciate the guy who has been here thirty years and knows everything about everything. But dammit, a little open mindedness would really help my days go by.


  2. Baptism ::

    The other side of the coin from tenure. Yesterday I interviewed a really good candidate for my job opening. He asked what is the onboarding process. I wanted to sugar coat it but lying isn’t my style. “Um, drinking from the firehose? Baptism by fire? And other cheeky colloquialisms to say there isn’t an onboarding process.” He replied “Oh.” I said “Hey, don’t worry, you would be surrounded by really good folks. One person has been here ten years. The other person just one year. They can both give you amazing perspective.” He seemed ok with that answer. I hope so because he seems like a good candidate.


  3. Holders ::

    Right now, at this moment, my badge holder thingy that is clipped to the waistband of my jeans is digging into my side. Excuse me for a mo’….there…better. Whew.


  4. Irritation ::

    Yeah, the skin at my side, right above my hipbone is pretty irritated. A little bit of skin was pinched under the clip of my badge holder. I *hate* that. Ow.


  5. Academics ::

    There is this guy I work with who has somehow adopted me as his friend and mentor. God knows why. No, seriously, this kid has a far brighter future than I ever did. He’s working full time (and a lot of extra hours) and he’s going to school for his Master’s Degree. Good lord. While I did fairly well in the academic arena, that day I walked across the stage and took possession of an MBA, I knew there was no way in hell I would go back to college.

    That said, I often think about going to school to get an MFA. I wish I was brave enough to have gotten an MFA back when I was college. Business school just seemed like a smarter option. Sometimes I wish I could go back in time and talk myself, just a clueless kid at NMSU. I’d discuss with her that an MFA is a fine educational option. Then I’d tell her that when that one kind of cute cowboy at that one party suggests you two split a bottle of Mad Dog that you just say no and run. The hangover was simply not worth it


  6. Mug ::

    When I started working at this office, my second level boss, ie The Boss of my Boss, had this really funny, kitchy coffee mug. Something made by his kids. I always thought it was odd because it was really in contrast to his super buttoned up and uber office professional style. But he seemed to like it. Right now he’s up for a huuuuge promotion and I notice he’s swapped out the mug adorned with his kid’s artwork and “have a good day daddy” to some quiet, sedate, professional mug. It makes me kind of sad. I suppose I shouldn’t blame him for living up to expectations.

    In other mug news, when I was in England and at my company’s facility, my boss was on travel for one of the weeks I was there and he said I could sit at his desk. Well, the folks in that office enjoy tea breaks in the morning and the afternoon (so freaking civilized!!!) and they invited me to join. I didn’t have a mug and the plastic cups in the breakroom didn’t seem heat-proof, so I dug around my boss’ desk and found a mug. And I used it. All week.

    At the end of the week I carefully washed it and put it back in his drawer next to his jar of instant coffee. I put a note inside

    “Dear Boss – I used this cup all week. On Friday I scrubbed it with soap and very hot water, but it still contains the germs of a minion. Just thought you should know. –K”

    I don’t think he’s found the note yet or if he did, shook his head and threw it away. My boss is a very ramrod straight former military man with an easy going personality. Which I why I like picking on him.


  7. Charge ::

    Brrt-drrt-drrt! Chaaaaarge!


  8. Percent ::

    Where I live I have an assigned parking spot. This is like gold in the Bay Area and I’m glad to have it. Of course, it’s a narrow little spot over by the trash bins. My Jeep fits the spot but doesn’t leave me a lot of room to maneuver around the sturdy concrete pole and the rubbish bins.

    Every morning when I leave and every night when I come home somebody has left some castoff bit of stuff by the bin in the narrow space I have to walk around my car. One day a broken suitcase. Then a broken Ikea cabinet. Then a busted table. A roll of carpet. A shopping cart. A bag of old shoes. A busted rug cleaner. These are all true and accurate things left in my teeny tiny space over the past week.

    So every day I move that crap over and every day a new thing shows up. I know who is doing it, a guy just moved into the building and he’s casting off stuff. That said, I’m a hundred percent sure I’m going to kick his ass if this doesn’t stop. I hate my parking space as it is (last week a pipe busted over my spot and dripped a lot of water on my car), but I firmly believe finding his garbage in my parking spot is grounds for a sturdy steel toed bash to the shins.

    I own such a pair of boots. I’m just saying.


  9. Clears ::

    I appreciate how nice it is when one clears the broken and busted stuff from your apartment home. But I’m going to clear his kneecap off his leg right soon.


  10. Selfless ::

    Yeah. Kind of a funny word to show up now. Uh oh, there’s that non-practicing yet Catholic-upraising guilt coming on.

    Let’s see, on that commandment list there is something about not wanting on your neighbor’s spouse. And not wanting on your neighbor’s stuff. Nothing about not wanting to apply bruising retribution on your neighbor. I’m good. Right?

    Oh fine, I shall do an act of contrition, eat (beer battered) fish for my Friday lunch and think heartily about what I’ve thought about doing.






Image found in several locations on the net, but unable to find attribution. Will remove or provide attribution details at the request of the owner.



Management By Latte

At the main campus where I work, we have a huge number of employees, so the company actually has five different cafeterias to handle the hungry hoards.

There is the “main” cafeteria that stays open through dinner time. All day long they have a full espresso coffee bar and a huge assortment of made-on-site pastries. It’s awesome!

The lady who works the espresso machine in the big cafeteria is a goddess. She can make cappuccino foam so firm, you can build a house on it. She’s fast and talented at this coffee game.

Needless to say, I adore this woman.

Recently the big cafeteria shut down for the month of June to make enhancements. That means the coffee lady and the pastries came over to do their thing in the small cafeteria on the first floor of my building.

Good news, right? The downside is that I now have to go to the cafeteria where all the workers are cranky. I mean, these folks look mad, beat down, and unhappy in there.

When I order my usual decaf latte at this small cafeteria they roll their eyes and sarcastically call out the order to the person pulling shots. That person then looks like they would rather do anything else in the whole wide world.

Since I’m usually in an all fire hurry at work and the big cafeteria is a bit of a hike away, I just endure the rolly eyes and play through.

But this past week, I noticed a change.

Subtle but important.

Here’s how it went down:

Me (to cashier): “Decaf double latte, please.”

Normally Surly Cashier: “Sure. : yelling : Mamita! Decaf doble latte, por favor!”

Coffee Goddess: “Claro, que si, mija” (with a sweet mom-like smile)

Now-not-so-surly cashier: (with a smile to me) “Three dollars please.”

Coffee Goddess then turns to see who ordered the decaf. “Oh! It’s you! Hello!”

Me: “Hi! You knew it had to be me, right? No one else orders decaf.”

Coffee Goddess: “Oh no, honey, I drink decaf too. Do you want two percent?”

Me: “Yes, please.”

And I smiled. And she smiled. And the cashier smiled. And everyone was smiling. And happy. And going about their jobs with a new sense of joy.

Could this complete change in attitude all be because of the wonderful, kind Coffee Goddess?

I watched all of this go down with my manager’s eyes and it really showed me something. Made me think about how one really negative person can make a whole work team unhappy.

That’s pretty well known, I think. The “poison apple” syndrome.

But here I saw firsthand that one really positive person can make the whole work team better. Happier. More productive.

Good stuff. And exceptionally good coffee.

When July begins and the Coffee Goddess goes back to the other cafeteria, I’ll miss her madly.

I imagine the formerly surly work team will too.







Coffee Goddess image found on Sodahead.



The Wheel of Questionable Spelling

Had a laugh this morning as I thought about today’s Theme Thursday, which is: full circle.

I was looking for a sign from the universe, a whisper from The Muse, an idea to bonk me on the head that fits with the theme.

The laugh came when I realized that all I had to do was look at my coffee cup.

Here’s where the circle begins:

________________________

Originally published November 7, 2008.


Alternate spelling, alternate universe

You may recall from a post a while back that I use my secret agent 007 stealth first name when I order coffee and they ask for a name to write on the cup.

My secret agent name is Lucy. I use that name because it’s:

1) easy to pronounce

2) easy to spell

3) heard clearly over the whooosh whooosh sounds of an espresso machine


I borrowed this name from a friend (who has my same real first name) because of the ease of use.

Until this past week at the Honolulu airport.

They asked my name. I said Lucy. They nodded and wrote the name. I got my beverage and it wasn’t until I was on the plane that I noticed.


You can’t make this stuff up.

________________________


And here’s where the story comes full circle:

Truth must be stranger than fiction, even on the mainland, because this morning I went to my local coffee slinger and used that same nom de bebida.

And this is what I got:





Questionable spelling skills, a feature of at least two of our fifty states.
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Side note: look how much the quality of iPhone photos has improved in four years. Amazing.



Disorganized Organization

Since this week’s Theme Thursday is the word organize, and since this blogger is anything but organized, I present a few photos for my entry into this week’s game.

Here’s a few more beauty shots of the fresh veggies on display in my cafeteria at work.

Who knew a simple, well organized pile of veg could look so darn enticing!

Not me.



Lovely, prickly artichokes (a personal fave)




Wait, I thought all carrots were those perfect small baby variety?




Leeky!





Photos by Karen Fayeth, Copyright 2012, and subject to the Creative Commons license on the far right column of this page. Taken with an iPhone4s and the Hipstamatic app.