It’s summer and it has finally….finally stopped raining.  Now it’s time to endure the humidity that this loverly state washes over us.

 

 

I often wonder if my life would be easier if I didn’t speak or understand English and I always come to the same conclusion.  Yes.

 

 

My cat ran into the sliding glass door yesterday.  She was chasing a squirrel that was sitting on the deck.  Then she barfed on the floor.

 

 

Heather is a purple flower.  It would be nice to own a Heather plant, but every time I buy one it dies.  And I feel like a huge failure.

 

 

Are you ever really thinking something when someone asks you what you’re thinking?  Me either.  I’m just waiting for that person to go away.

 

 

My drug dealing neighbor asked me last week if that was my car parked in his space.  Then he pulled all the weeds out of his front yard.

 

 

I watched Cemetery Man on demand because I haven’t seen it in a million years.  I couldn’t remember how it ended.  Good movie.

 

 

There is a map of this office on the cube wall where I am sitting.  It’s really out of date.  I think I’ll make a new map.  <smile>

 

 

I miss my sister.  She is the only person on this planet who knows what I mean when I’m not saying anything.  Colorado sounds nice.

 

 

The computer runs really slow when it’s updating.  Then it reboots.  Maybe I should start doing that too.  I’ll tell people I’m narcoleptic.

 

 

I was going to carve a watermelon like a pumpkin and make up a pretend holiday to celebrate the monsoons.  Then it stopped raining.

 

 

The invite to my 15 year high school reunion popped up in facebook.  I’m pretty sure the only people who go to the reunion are the ones who

 

 

Organize it.

 

 

I was wondering how long I could go having thoughts in 140 characters or less.  Maybe if I used the texting fake English or stopped putting

 

 

spaces in between my words I could fit more in there.  But I think that truncating, filtering, shortening, paraphrasing and hyphenating

 

 

one’s life is probably a good sign that the zombie apocalypse is not far off.  It will probably eventually start causing people to

 

 

communicate using grunts and pointing at things.  Our brains will be pureed into mush, we'll devolve into monosyllabic Neanderthals.

 

 

But that probably won’t happen until after Public Enemies comes out in theaters.  Johnny Depp is so hooooooooooooooooooooooootttttttttttttt.

 

 

 

Later gators,

Heather

It’s a gloomy, rainy day.  I can tell even before I open my eyes.  I don’t think it’s natural for human beings to be awake and alert before the sun rises.  The house is dark and spooky in these pre-dawn hours and the Pumpkin is trying desperately to trip me as I walk down the stairs to pour myself the first of eight thousand cups of coffee I plan to drink today.  You see….today is Staff Meeting Day in Audit-Land.  That’s right, gentle reader, the day you all look forward to every year with bated breath and palsy-like fidgets.  You look forward to it….I do not.  This year, Staff Meeting Day has been scheduled to take place in loverly Catonsville which is approximately a million miles away from Germantown.  And with the cost of gas inexplicably rising while all these car companies are going out of business….I will have to pay waaaaaaaaaay more than I think is appropriate to attend this shindig.  And it’s raining.  Did I mention that already?  Yeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh….I hate long commutes in the rain.  That’s not really precisely accurate.  I hate other people driving long commutes in the rain with me.  If I was on the road by myself, it might be kind of peaceful.  This will not be.  This will be a nightmare and that is the only thing prodding my eyelids open at this ungodly hour. 

 

I will not recap the road rage filled trek across the state for you people because it will only make me crazy delirious again.  So let’s skip ahead and say that I made it to the community college in Catonsville where the Staff will be Meeting.  I am, naturally, the first person there.  Awesome.  Some peace and quiet before the Coworkers arrive.  Thanks to the 16 cups of coffee I have already consumed, I decide finding a bathroom soon would probably be prudent.  So, I make my way inside out of the rain and the gloom and the doom into the humid mugginess that is some old dank college building.  Ok….so I am slightly exaggerating…..it was a nice building, don’t get me wrong.  I was just in a foul mood.  If I had been happy, the building would have seemed nicer.  The catering people are already in the room and I wait as patiently as possible for them to get the hell out of the way of the coffee urn before I start filling these little teeny elf cups full of some more joe.  Who in the world drinks coffee like this…out of little teeny tiny elf cups?  So anyway, the Coworkers start filing in and jabbering away and I am as social as my current caffeine level will allow.  I am very proud of myself for scoping out and claiming the best seat in the room….until someone (I forget who) announces this is not in fact the room where we will be Meeting.  This is the room where we will be Eating.  <pause>  What now?  So I’m the jerk that put all her stuff down on a chair for absolutely no reason.  Fabulous.

 

The Meeting Room is an auditorium.  The lights are not on because the community college people think we can see in the dark.  You know, cause most auditors have magical powers.  Mine is the ability to mesmerize people with my abnormally large pumpkin head.  When these people finally figure out where the light switch is, I see that there are plenty of ideal seat options in here and am slightly less enraged than I was about thirty seconds earlier….that lasted for oh……another 12 seconds…..before someone else (I forget who) announces that we are not allowed to eat or drink in this auditorium.  <pause>  What now?  What’s this?  What are you trying to tell me?  Um.  No coffee?  Are you serious?  What am I, 8 years old?  I think I can manage drinking some coffee without spewing it out all over the seats in front of me.  Come on with your ridiculous rules.  I hate this place.  Now I really hate this place.  Coffee haters.

 

So, as per usual, Staff Meeting Day is going to begin with about four hours of useless training.  Today we are learning how to manage our time.  Nice.  Just what I need…..someone to explain to me how easy it is to clone myself……or build a time machine…..or slow the rotation of the Earth so there are more hours in the day.  Maybe this moron will hypnotize us so we stop caring about our families and friends and personal hygiene and start shirking our responsibilities?  That will make it much easier to manage my time.  So, just as I am in the middle of a thought about going back in time to change professions before they sucked the soul out of me in business school, New Guy sits down in front of me.  Just plops himself down in the row in front of me….but he’s already looking at me with that expectant “I’m going to be talking to you in a minutes, get ready” look on his face.  <sigh>  Fine. 

 

New Guy:  Hi, I’m Kevin.

Me: Hi Kevin, I’m Heather.

 

I hope it doesn’t surprise you that I introduced myself, gentle reader.  I’m not a rude person.  I am merely disenchanted with the world and everybody in it.  I don’t really recall what this Kevin person was saying after he introduced himself because I’m not really capable of active listening while being so ridiculously decaffeinated.  He asked me how long I’d worked in Audit-Land…blah blah blah.  All the normal questions creepy Newbies usually have….but then somebody else walked over and handed Kevin an ear piece.

 

<pause>

 

Oh no.

 

 

 

Oh dear Lord….if you ever loved me just a little bit please please please don’t make this Kevin person the <shiver> Trainer.  I just assumed he worked in Audit-Land….why the hell else would he have been talking to me?  I’ll tell you why, because he’s an evil sadistic “Audience Participation” trainer.  He’s needy that way.  Now, the pleasant sort of nice smile I had on my face has turned into a pursed lip not quite mean looking scowl. 

 

Trickster: I’m teaching the class.

Heather:  Yeah.  I figured that out when they didn’t give me an ear piece too.

Trickster: Do you have a couple minutes to talk about your job?

[Uh no.]

Heather: What do you want to know?

Trickster: Tell me what some of the challenges you face…..blah blah blah……

 

I am absolutely furious at this point.  Everybody knows that one of the golden rules of Training Class is to stay as far away from the Trainer as possible.  They may as well have the plague.  You never look at them.  And you certainly don’t….<shiver>…..talk to them!  And look at me now.  Dancing with the devil.  This is going to end very very badly.  The evil interviewing dancing devil takes a break for a few seconds to check his mic at which point I decided I was going to need a lot more coffee before this thing got started….so I ran out of the auditorium.

 

Time to get this party started.  The Newbies are introduced, forced to stand and wave and act really uncomfortable with an auditorium full of judgmental auditors staring at them.  And now it’s time for the Time Lord to start the torture.  He informs us right off the bat that the purpose of time management is to eliminate problems and distractions that get in the way of success.

 

Distraction: Feel good about yourself.

Heather: [I already do.]

Distraction: Some things that are common sense are not common practice.

Heather: [Yeah, like not talking to the god***n trainer.]

Distraction: I am a recovering perfectionist.

Heather: [ugh]

Distraction: I often tell people to hit a bag with a stick.

Heather: [Thanks Doctor Phil.]

 

Hang on a second…he’s calling on people!  This is a nightmare.  But then, I already knew this was that kind of trainer.  The kind that calls on people randomly…except this won’t be totally random, will it?  On no.  I have already doomed myself to inevitable.

 

Satan: So Heather, what do you think is a reason…..blah blah blah.

Heather: [panicking that now the auditorium full of judgmental auditors is looking at me while my massive and somewhat disproportionately sized pumpkin head is turning bright bright red.] Uhhhhhhhhhhhh…..something that sounds like a sort of reasonable answer to me in my head while I was saying it but was more than likely total nonsense.

 

Oh no….he di-idn’t.  This is completely unacceptable.  I am quite obviously sitting in the Do Not Call On Me I Don’t Want To Participate row of the auditorium.  What planet is this guy from?  I need gallons of coffee to make it through this day and the stupid rules in this Chamber of Doom forbid it.  And then Satan says some really ridiculous things….

1.      You shouldn’t complain.

2.      Is the point to life to get everything done?

3.      Email can kill you.

4.      Slow down the speed of your mind.

 

Ok, let’s point out the faulty logic here.  Complaining is therapeutic.  If I don’t write this stuff down it would infect everything I do.  Yes, the point to life is to get everything done.  I would haunt this world for eternity if I did not finish my to-do list before I die.  But that may be the OCD talking.  Email can’t kill….but the stupid morons sending that email could definitely do some permanent damage.  Slow down the speed of my mind?  To what end?  I can keep up with it; how’s it  my fault if nothing else can.  <smile>

 

So, in between finding typos in his Powerpoint presentation (he wrote ‘your’ instead of you’re) and powering up the jedi mind tricks to keep him from calling on me again, I start falling asleep.  Then he suggests that we stop caring if people like us.  Check.  Delegate as much as possible.  Not a good idea.  I’d end up with t-shirts in the dishwasher if I did that at home.  Schedule a meeting with yourself.  Because now we’re all schizophrenic.  And then my favorite – eat the ugly frog.

 

Ok, this is some kind of meaningful advice about overcoming procrastination.  You eat the frog first thing.  You get it over with.  And if there is more than one….you eat the ugly one first.  This is the most inane totally irrelevant nonsense I have ever heard….I love it when people try to associate things like this with advice.  But I have to admit….I’m going to start saying it to people.  All the time.  Eat the ugly frog….and nod in a knowing way that makes them think they should know what I’m talking about but they have no idea what I’m talking about…..but they don’t want to ask and look stupid….so they just nod, yeah….eat the ugly frog.  Heeheehee.

 

Satan called on me one more time, because I apparently wasn’t in the room when he wanted to talk to me….and then he pointed at me later but didn’t call on me.  Awful, awful awfulness.  And then it’s time for lunch.

 

And that’s over way too quick.  The three people in this office that I can talk to without wincing were at least talking to me at this point….so no one else would.  Now it’s time for the barrel of laughs portion of the meeting.  The Update from Audit-Land.

 

Here’s how the Update went.  You’re not getting any more money next year, but rah rah we sure do appreciate all your hard work and you’re welcome for having a job.  I am so motivated right now I could just stab myself in the neck with this pen…………Seriously?  We probably could have used some ‘Motivational Speaking’ training.  Forget this time management nonsense.  So anyhoo…moving along.  Now all the divisional dictators get to remind us what happened during the last six months.  Here’s a quick play by play.  The Social Committee is recruiting everyone for Auditor Gone Wild behavior such as attending baseball games and cancer walks.  I think the Social Committee needs some kind of uniform.  And maybe pom poms.  The discussion forum that I am moderating for the Office….and by moderating I mean posting notes to myself…..is a total failure.  We will have to fill out some kind of employment satisfaction survey in the future and let everyone know how happy we are to have jobs.  At this point during the Update….the audience mumbling has become a distraction.  I’m not terribly sure people realize we are sitting in an auditorium with excellent acoustics…but whatever.  The three thousand other committees that the Office has deemed necessary are all doing very important things that I don’t feel like repeating.  We’ve done a lot of audits.  And the scary paranoid IT Director informed us that if we don’t turn in our non-encrypted flash drives so they can be burned into ash we will suffer dire consequences.  I totally believe him when he says this.  Of course there were a lot of other topics reviewed that I cannot expound on for you gentle reader because it is top secret Auditing Business.

 

But I do have to talk about one more thing.  We had a retirement party at the end of the meeting.  And by party I mean Grumblybert “roasted” the retiree.  This was slightly uncomfortable because no one in our Office really understands Grumblybert’s comedy genius.  I am fairly certain he is being funny 75% of the time…but no one really knows for sure.  The roasting made some people uncomfortable, which is awesome.  I love a train wreck just as much as the next person.  Or rather, in this case…more than anybody else in the audience.  Retireebert took it all in with a grain of salt, apparently appeased by the knowledge that he is almost outta here.  I’m not sure I will miss him…but I am sure I will have a lot less to complain about.  And complaining is the fire that gets me up in the morning so farewell Retireebert.  No “roasting” from me.  Enjoy your life outside of Audit-Land.  Cheers.  And all that.

 

Then it was over…almost before it began.  Now I am driving home from loverly Catonsville in the dreary gloomy rain, already forgetting pretty much all of the names of the Newbies who got introduced at the beginning of the day.  But let me be quite clear Newbies.  I will not be speaking to any of you.  Ever.  On the off chance you’re actually an evil audience participation Trainer, I will not be a party to your reindeer games. M’kay?

 

Later gators,

Heather

I am working in Rockville now, gentle reader.  Disconnected from the world.  I have no internet access here, and it is driving me maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad.  I would like to say that it has been a relief to be unavailable to the world.  I would like to say that I enjoy going back to a simpler time when we had dial-up and getting on the internet was such a drag.  I would like to say that I have more important things to do….like appreciate nature or read a book…..than be on the internet.  This is sadly not the case.  Apparently, when I don’t answer my mother’s e-mails promptly (within 24 hours) she assumes that I am dead.  That’s a fun conversation to have with one of your parents –

 

Mom: Why don’t you answer my e-mails?

Me: Because I don’t have internet access on my job anymore.

Mom: Why don’t you answer my e-mails when you get home?

Me: Because I have other stuff to do.

Mom: I thought something had happened to you.  You worry me.

Me: Wait a minute mom, I think my experiment worked.

Mom: What are you talking about?

Me:  Hang on mom, I have to check something.

Mom: <sigh>

Me: I was trying to prove that I would I die if I didn’t e-mail my mother constantly.  And it worked.  I’m dead.  You’re speaking to a dead person.  You can save the guilt and passive aggression because it is ineffective on dead people.

Mom: Stop being a smart ass.  You’re just like your father.

 

I am currently auditing a courthouse in Rockville.  I don’t think I said that before and I’m too lazy to read what I just wrote.  Working in a courthouse is like being on the pirate ship in the fish tank and watching all the crazy guppies swim by.  You get all types in a courthouse.  ALL types.  Lots of men in uniform.  Which hasn’t been that bad….I saw a Sheriff’s car get towed the other day.  And for some reason that bothered me.  Listen, I know some of you out there think cops shouldn’t get away with speeding and free parking and all that….but seriously?  They get shot at.  And yes, I think that warrants some free parking.  Save your quarters, copper. 

 

I was rather dismayed to learn that I would need yet another ID badge to enter the courthouse every day and bypass the x-ray machine, etc.  I think I would rather turn on my laptop and my cell phone and empty my purse and twirl around three times every day for courthouse security if it would mean that I don’t have to look at this ridiculous picture of myself on this ridiculous badge.  I don’t know if the guy taking the picture had a wide-angle lens because I don’t remember him being this close to my face but my pumpkin-sized head fills the entire picture window on the badge.  And it is a perfect circle.  I look like a character out of South Park.  It amazes me that I can stand up in the morning with this bowling ball on my shoulders….it amazes me that I don’t just fall over backwards. 

 

Here’s a travel tip for those of you who don’t normally drive through loverly Rockville on a regular basis.  If you need to park in this city expect to pay an arm and a leg.  It costs more to park here than it does in Ballmer.  Of course, you’re not dodging crack heads here like you would be in Ballmer….so maybe you pay a premium for that.  One of the pathetic joys in my life right now has been chronicling the trials and tribulations of the Parking Booth Man.  I have decided to park in a street lot behind the courthouse and because my OCD habits will not allow me to deviate from a routine once it has been established, this is where I park every day.  And every day, Parking Booth Man is having some kind of problem.  I imagine that the Parking Lot Company does not pay him nearly enough for all the stress and agony this job apparently causes him.  One day, I drove in and the ticket spitter was broken and Parking Booth Man was attempting to fix it by kicking it repeatedly….and I full well on intended to just sit in my car and watch this fiasco unfold, but I must have made him self-conscious because he turned and looked at my car idling in the turn-in for the lot and started flailing his arms around like an epileptic air traffic controller.  I interpreted his somewhat aggressive arm gestures to mean that I was to drive through without taking a ticket.  This does not concern me, because I stay all day and so I would have to pay the full rate regardless but I sooooooooooo wanted to watch the meltdown.  The kicking must have worked, by the way, because the ticket spitter was back to spitting out tickets the next morning.

 

Last week the Parking Booth Man was having issues making change for people.  I have deduced from my extremely amazing observation skills, that this is probably because he sits in a claustrophobically small stifling hot poorly constructed ticket booth all day sucking in exhaust fumes.  The seat in the booth is too tall and the window is too low, so you can’t really see Parking Booth Man in his booth….you can just hear him mumbling and cursing in his make believe parking lot language.  In Parking Lot Land, I assume that a twenty dollar bill looks exactly the same as a tenner.  I assume this, because on this particular day last week, I handed Parking Booth Man a brand new crisp clean twenty dollar bill spit freshly out of the outrageously priced ATM in the courthouse (because I don’t carry cash normally) and after I got a receipt and no change and sat there for about thirty seconds….I realized he must have thought he gave me change.  So I asked for change.  This was not some kind of confrontation….don’t worry.  And even if it had been a confrontation, I am fairly certain I could annihilate Parking Booth Man with a swift head butt from the pumpkin noggin.  No…there was none of that.  There was just Parking Booth Man….confused and turning this way and that on his too tall swivel stool in the booth, making confused grunts and noises and getting increasingly agitated about something until he was wildly flailing his arms around again.  At this point…..I am trying………….really really hard…………not to laugh.  I am nervous that my laughter at this point, because it would be uncontrollable, would cause the Parking Booth Man to spontaneously combust.  It’s been known to happen, people.  And then who would entertain me everyday….really.  So I suppress the urge to start the jiggledy giggledies.  And wait.  And wait.   And wait….for Parking Booth Man to pull it together.  After his loud and angry monologue, none of which I got because again he was speaking in that parking booth language that I don’t understand….and he’s like sitting three feet above the car window, after that he takes a deep breath, hands me my change and says in the sweetest voice I have ever heard, have a good day.

 

Oh.  I already have Parking Booth Man.  I already have.  Thanks.

 

I have recently become addicted to orange flavored lifesaver mints.  I eat them all the time now.  They must put heroin in these things because I cannot stop munching them….and yes, I am one of those people that eats mints.  There is nothing worse than listening to someone sucking on a mint….except maybe someone walking behind you, or listening to people eating or drinking, or people doing something else that is annoying.  Nothing worse.  I eat the mints….which is probably why I go through so many a day.  You know, I figured the coffee and cigs weren’t rotting the teeth out of my head fast enough and so I figured….what would your dentist suggest?  Besides no more nicotine or caffeine…..<shaking my head>……he would suggest no sugar.  And because I concluded long ago that my dentist is the devil incarnate, I will do the opposite and coat my rotting teeth in lifesaver fake sugar all day.  That’s the ticket.  I should have a new set of bionic teeth implanted into my gums by the time I turn 50.

 

I was stunned and relieved to learn that there is still reality TV on over the summer….besides Big Brother which I can’t really watch because it’s on like every 18 hours or something….and I always miss an episode because there is no rhyme nor reason to the stupid schedule.  There was a new show on this week called….I’m not lying….. “I’m a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here.”  AAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.  There was very little entertainment involved in this show….mainly because I don’t watch the Hills and had no idea who this Spencer person is…..the Hubby informed me that all the kids watch that show.  <sigh>  Ok.  There was Stephen Baldwin, Lou Diamond Phillips, a female wrestler, some comedians, Janet Dickenson, Blajogedvich’s (no I’m sure that’s not the way you spell that name) wife and Sanjaya.  That’s all I can remember.  It was a train wreck.  Lots of Hollywood religion, catfights, defending impeached husbands and melodrama.  They force the celebrities to live out in the middle of nowhere, to eat bugs and touch snakes, etc.  Very Survivor-esque.  Except with people that very clearly do not want to be there….I don’t think I will continue to watch this show….but if you’re suffering from reality withdrawal, this should get you by.

 

Also watched the MTV movie awards last weekend….uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…..when did MTV become such a potty mouth?  Seriously….they said “dick” about eight hundred times during the show.  Maybe it’s because of all the trash they show on that channel now….and not nearly enough singing…..Eminem was good and if you honestly think he wasn’t in on that Borat entrance, you’re nuts.  Eminem was on Crank Yankers for crying out loud.  He knows how to handle a joke.  And poor Zack Epinephrine on the stage trying to figure out what the hell was going on….priceless.  Don’t worry if you missed it, they’ll show it again every day for the next three months.  The Ben Stiller award thing was weird and unfunny and uncomfortable….Kiefer needs to stick with Jack Bauer….please.  All in all, MTV managed to confirm that all the little girls and boys who actually have the time to vote for this nonsense want to grow up to be vampires.  Although, the Twilight girl who won and then dropped the award onstage….I don’t know if she meant to do that, but it was hi-larious.  One of the only funny parts of the show…

 

I am attempting to grow vegetables on the deck outside.  This is interesting and I’m sharing this with all of you because at this point in time, all of my vegetables are still in the house on the window sill.  I do not trust the rabid squirrels in our neighborhood not to eat my plants before I do so I have decided to let them grow for the time being in the house.  The Pumpkin apparently does not agree with this plan one little bit, because she has to date kicked at least two of the plants onto the floor.  The idea to grow vegetables came out of some delusion that growing my own vegetables would be cheaper and greener than buying them at the grocery store…so I bought like eight packets of seeds and a bag of top soil and filled up about 42 plastic cups with dirt and water and plant pods, like I was doing some kind of elementary school science experiment.  I feel like I should be subjecting the plastic cups to music or weird light or something.  So maybe with a little bit of magic pixie dust and a few well-worded prayers I will be eating rabbit food I grew myself in a few months.  That, or the vegetables will have been poisoned by the hatred that I am quickly developing for the dirty little plastic cup bombs that the Pumpkin continues to throw all over my house.

 

So that’s it.  The update from Audit-Land.  You’re welcome.  Stay tuned next week for the recap of Staff Meeting Day 2009.

 

Later gators,

Heather