First things first: the layout is currently sparse because I fucked up the one I was working on and had to start from scratch. Something better will be coming up later, I hope.
So, I already talked about Friday night. There’s not a whole lot else to say about the weekend. I am taking care of a sick kitten that Ginny found beside the road, and that took up a lot of time this weekend, but it was time I didn’t mind spending. I’m not nearly as bothered by bodily functions and stuff as other people in my family are. I actually wish I could have brought him in with me today so I could keep an eye on the little guy. He’s taken to following me around the house, which is pretty damn cute.
Oh, and last night I stopped at the store to pick up a few things and some guy asked me to help him pick out roses for his son to give to his ex-wife for her birthday. I helped him find the best-looking bouquet that evil Wal*Mart had and he thanked me. It was kind of funny, though. I don’t know why. I didn’t know that guys actually asked random chicks to help them pick out flowers for people – I thought that was a movie line. It didn’t bother me a bit.
I had a really vivid and disturbing dream last night that I’ll have to write about elsewhere. Just thought I’d share.
Hmm…oh. I work in the most fucked-up place on the planet, I think. The work order has become a running joke around here, as the implementation of a work order means that it’ll take maintenance six times longer to do your work than usual. And they’re very anal like “we can’t do anything without a work order.” And sometimes they can’t even do anything with a work order. Example: shortly after I moved in, the two light bulbs over my desk burned out. I had to work in this crazy-ass dimness for two weeks and place numerous calls to the physical plant before they came to fix it, and even then it took them three days to get the two light bulbs changed and functional. I waited for two months to get a marker board installed in my phone center last spring.
So when a maintenance guy showed up on Friday to install a new soap dispenser in our bathroom we all had to laugh. Because we certainly didn’t ask for a new soap dispenser. In fact, I’m one of those people who buys hand soap from the grocery store for our office, because I absolutely cannot stand the office-issue smelly pink soap. So I didn’t even notice if there was a problem with the dispenser on the wall, and neither did anyone else. But Friday, boom – they show up and say they have a work order to replace it. Whatever.
So they change out the dispenser and ask us to put in a work order to get it filled. I say I don’t care if they fill it or not; my secretary doesn’t have enough work to do so she calls and tells them.
Today, I go into the bathroom and notice that the hand soap I bought is suddenly half pink and half white. Because, you see, someone topped off my Softsoap with the pink shit.
And furthermore, that brand-new wall dispenser that we so desperately needed is sitting on the wall, empty.
That is so fucking stupid. And they ruined the soap I actually like, so now I have to go buy a new bottle.
And that was an economy-sized bottle of Softsoap, too.