For the birds

This being a grown up thing is really for the birds.

I mean, sure, being an adult has its benefits. Cookies and ice cream and beer for dinner, for example. Yeah.

I don’t have to ask permission to buy a candy in the checkout line.

Disposable income.

I can tie my own shoes.

No homework.

Yeah.

But being a grown up means getting up every morning to go to work.

Trying hard to “get ahead”. Get that better job. Be a better employee. Get paid more. More respect.

Sleepless nights worrying about getting that project done, or the political implications of a decision.

No summer vacation. Of if you get one, it’s just a week long. Ugh.

The reason for my lament today is that we’ve entered the performance review stage at work. Meaning I have to write up and rate my team for the year.

Now, this isn’t my first rodeo. I’ve done this for many years, but it never gets any easier. To reduce the sum total of another human’s work for the year to a percentage number and a couple paragraphs is an agonizing process for me.

Part of what makes me a good manager is the depth of my compassion. But it’s also one of my biggest limitations.

Our company gives out paltry merit raises, and it’s hard to hand out a tiny raise for a hard year’s work. This year, I have a pretty good boss who is helping me fight the good fight for rate increases. But I still go home a little bit demoralized.

Good thing I can have all those cookies and beer for dinner.

Image via.

Watch where you’re pointin’ that thing, Mister!

Was out running errands at lunch and whippin’ my way back to the office after a successful jaunt.

Was on Highway 280, crusin’, and singing along to, I believe, Nelly, when I came around a blind curve to see a CHP pointing a gun at me.

Disconcerting to say the least.

I took leave of my senses. When I regained them, I realized it was a radar gun. Or actually lidar (uses laser instead of radio waves).

The good news is, that as I was cruisin’ and holding an in-car concert, I was following a mini-van. Meaning when I got clocked I was doing 65 mph, the legal speed limit.

Karen lives to see another day, ticket free.

But it took me a good ten minutes for my heart rate to settle back in.

Image via.

I’m kind of having a day like this, too.

A Milwaukee man was accused of shooting his lawn mower because it wouldn’t start.

“He told police quote, ‘I can do that, it’s my lawn mower and my yard so I can shoot it if I want.'”

Darn tootin’, you can! Except for those pesky police!

Thankfully for my coworkers, I posses neither a lawnmower nor a shotgun.

But I might whing a mighty ballpoint pen at my computer screen.

I’ll do it too!

Yeah, baby!

week·end (wēk’ěnd’)

n. The end of the week, especially the period from Friday evening through Sunday evening.

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I’m in need of one of them thar things. ^^

Boss Lady remains on vacation but work rambles on.

Wedding Plans have hit Code Orange. High Alert, people. We’re down to the remaining few weeks. Last minute stuff is last-minuting.

The Good Man and I are still getting along, so that’s good. I am not a Bridezilla. He’s not a Groomzilla. Mainly, we’re just two adults gonna throw a nice party.

*******

Justifiable SmackDownacide

In an attempt to get through this long afternoon, I took one crisp dollar bill to the vending machine and procured one each plain Hershey Bar.

As I turned to walk back to my desk, the Office Nosy Nelly was standing there.

Of course she was.

As I walked back to my desk, she shouted down the hall “YOU CAN’T EAT THAT! YOU NEED PUT THAT BACK!”

“No,” I replied.

“WELL JUST EAT HALF. YOU CAN’T EAT ALL OF THAT! THAT’S TERRIBLE!”

“Your issue with chocolate is not my problem,” I said.

“LOOK, THERE’S NEAL AT THE END OF THE HALL, GIVE HIM THAT THING SO YOU DON’T EAT IT” (yes, she’s still shouting, trying to shame me).

I looked at Neal and said, “Sorry bro, you ain’t getting my chocolate.”

So why exactly do people think it’s their right to tell someone what they can and can’t eat?

Please present this blog entry to the jury. Thanks.

When the Cat’s away the Mice will…

Blog.

The Boss Lady is on vacation today and tomorrow. So w00t!

She got on a plane this morning headed for Indiana, so, having made that agonizing, exhausting, necessary journey before, I figure except for a few iPhone email check-ins, she’ll pretty much have no idea what I’m up to today.

I cc’d her on a few emails this morning, just for good measure, but other than that… I’m pretty much value subtracted to the company today.

So that means I have plenty of time to blog.

Wonder what I should write about?

: tap tap tap :

Hmm.

: ponder, ponder :

Maybe I’ll just pop over to TMZ.com to see what’s doing.

berightback