I like to laugh. However, most of the time, I’m a hard nut to crack. Usually it’s because I get lost in observing the moment and forget to express my delight. And then there are the times when I do laugh but at the most inappropriate moments.
funny
The Moose
What do you want first, the inspiration to the poem or the poem itself (chicken or egg dilemma)? This blog isn’t really interactive so I’ll make the decision. Many years ago my family went on vacation to Yellowstone National Park and did not see any wildlife. Soon after we returned home, a moose wandered into the local cemetery. And when I say local, I mean local to my house (we live on the street right next to it). As far as I know, this is the only time a moose has roamed my neighborhood. I wrote this poem years ago based on this experience. Continue reading
Mush for Brain
About the middle of last month, the blessed, wonderful HR Rep calculated everyone’s vacation time. She noticed I had 16 hours of personal time and 48 hours of vacation time I needed to use by December 31 or lose it. She notified my boss. My boss notified me.
“Twist my arm!” I said. “Guess I’ll schedule some time off.”
And so I did.
First, I started with Thanksgiving week. That’s right. I took the whole week off. That accounted for three days or 24 hours. And it was great! I didn’t go anywhere. However, I did work my butt off cleaning the house and getting ready for the holiday (which means company coming to visit).
Monday I went back to work. You know me; I’m not one to give into hyperbole. So trust me when I say, Monday was the hardest, longest, hardest day of my life. It was one long, hard day. Apparently, I’m still feeling the effects of brain-mush.
I arrived late (that’s not really a new thing. Although I was hoping the week vacation would have helped motivate me getting up in the morning. It did not). I turned on the light to my windowless office and sighed. It looked so dark. I wondered if it always looks that dark (it does. My office mate is one of those “IT” people who hate artificial light. She had maintenance loosen the fluorescent light bulbs above her head so that they won’t turn on. Her side of the office is always darker. Plus, she’s on vacation so it felt extra dark.)
After sitting for a few moments staring at my blank computer monitor I realized it helps if I turn it on. NO! I wasn’t that bad. Almost, but not quite. I remembered how to turn on my computer.
However, one of the many chiefs came in to my office before 9:00 (seriously, who comes in with a problem before 9:00 Monday morning?!) She explained the situation to me. It sounded like Charlie Brown’s teacher talking – “waa, waa, waaa, waa, waa, waa, waa.” Let’s just say, there was a problem and if there was a giant finger pointing, it was in my direction. Dangme.
So everything I planned to do –to get caught up – was put on hold. I had to figure out the problem. Not to toot my horn, but I worked out a solution…Tuesday at 4:30. But this blog isn’t about how awesome I am for figuring it out. Although at 4:30 I really wanted to do cartwheels down the hall.
This blog is actually about the fact that I live about 14 minutes away from work. Ten minutes into my drive home on Monday my mush-for-brain realized I left my phone at work. There was an internal debate on whether I should go back for it or not. Thirteen minutes into my commute I finally turned around. I couldn’t imagine going a whole evening without my phone. It has worked its way into my life and made itself indispensable. Way to go, iPhone! And a little unnerving. I keep thinking of the villain in Spiderman 2. Remember Doc Ock? How those mechanical tentacle things overtook him and he became evil? I don’t think my phone will make me do evil things. Although, I wonder how that excuse would go over: my phone made me do it!
But I do think I rely on my phone too much.
The remedy? I’m going to unplug this weekend. Or, actually, I’m going to leave it plugged into the wall. It’s my goal to not look at my phone once after I leave work on Friday until Monday morning. Can I do it? I think I can get along without my actual phone features okay; it’s the 10,000 Facebook checks that might kill me.
If I’m successful, I’ll report back on Monday. If not, this blog never happened.
Wish me luck!
Beard Beanie Anyone?
It’s that time of year. We are being bombarded by commercials. I don’t know about you, but I have chosen to survive by tuning most of the constant barrage out. Those little 30 second fillers (that add up to several minutes) are just enough time to visit my own little world and tend to things there. I just don’t get enough time to visit anymore. My world gets neglected.
However, occasionally a 30 second spot does something to catch my attention. Remember the Snuggie? It took a few airings until I paid attention. And then I wondered who these people are that have such a hard time figuring out blankets. Do they walk among us? Then I speculated how big the said population must be that something had to be invented to help them out. And then I went to work and made a big deal about it.
Last year I received a Snuggie for Christmas from a co-worker. Oh, funny office hi-jinks.
This year it wasn’t a television ad that caught my attention. It’s a Facebook ad.
Really?
My first thought after seeing this? Is this for real? Followed closely by: who can I get this for? But I will not go to work and mock this ad. I do not want one for Christmas. Seriously.
Black Friday Post
courtesy the web. It’s called the Black Screen of Death. Sounds ominous, don’t ya think?
Happy Black Friday y’all!
Yeah, I’m phoning it in today. I’m sleeping while y’all are shopping. Play nice. Be good. And buena suerte!
Thanksgiving is Pretty Swell if you think about it
Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. Yeah, that’s right; the holiday that’s being steamrolled by that certain day in December is actually tops in my book. You might be wondering why. I doubt you actually are speculating but I’m going to tell you anyway. Here are the top three reasons I dig Thanksgiving.
I’m Not Your Stalker – I’m Your Cousin
Someday I hope to attain the skill of knowing what to say. Let me add, knowing what to say in the moment not six hours later when I’m waiting for sleep to come. Because not only does the perfect response hours after the fact produce a sleepless night, but it would just be nice being able to carry on a conversation. Or not overly fret because I realize (at the same late hour) that my filter never kicked in. And I disclosed too much that didn’t need to be shared. Santa, that’s what I want for Christmas, to be a right words at the right time kinda person. Think your elves can manage that one? If I were in a Christmas movie they would.
Dream a Little Dream
photo courtesy the web
I’ve been having some rather odd dreams lately. Perhaps, my dreams are always odd but for some reason I am remembering them when I wake up. One dream that I keep reflecting on involved a locked briefcase. In my living room. There was an urgency to unlock the briefcase but nobody around me knew the combination code. My little team (I can’t remember who made up my team) did our best to pry open the lock. It took some time, but we finally managed to open it – just in time of whoever or whatever we were trying to avoid. And what was in the briefcase? Another locked, albeit smaller, briefcase.
In an effort to foil the people who were coming after the briefcase, I took out the smaller one and placed a weight inside the bigger one. Then we closed it and left it where the bad people could find it (genius!). I never found out what was in the smaller case, why it was so heavy, why there were people after it all thanks to the typical dream ender ruiner – I woke up. But I’m still curious.
So, I consulted Google to help me find answers. I typed in “What does it mean if I dream of a briefcase” and these are the top results.
From a website called, ExperienceProject.com “To dream of briefcase means the ideas intellectual thoughts that are intensely personal and part of what defines you. To dream that you are carrying a briefcase means your level or preparedness in some situation or circumstance. It also refers to your concerns and worries about work and travel. To dream that you lose your briefcase means you feel or fear you aren’t staying on top of your responsibilities, you need to pay more attention to them, or the work area of your life seems neglected. For a women to dream of opening a briefcase in front of her means that she going to start a business. To dream of yourself tightly carrying, gripping or nervously setting down a brief case beside you means information, advice and suggestions which you are keeping back from another person.The needed information you are choosing to keep to yourself involves a marital issue, family matter, relationship situation or finances.”
First of all, something about this leads me to believe this was translated from a different language. And second, does this mean I’m going to start a business? Unlikely. I kept looking for answers.
A website called Dreamforth.com had this to offer, “To dream of a briefcase indicates that you have confidence in your ability to handle a difficult task or issue. It may also reflect any anxieties you harbor regarding your job or an upcoming journey.”
Hmm, I have confidence in my ability to handle a difficult task or issue? Insert buzzer sound here. It is possible I have some anxieties about my job though.
Dreamomania.com associates briefcases with “Attitudes and beliefs about work and business, professional identity.”
Based on that, my identity is locked? And an unsolved mystery since I never got to see what was in the briefcase that was inside the briefcase. Am I really that complex? I really doubt it.
One more?
At Mimi.hu dreams about briefcases reflect “Work, your career, your responsibilities.”
It also states, “Losing your briefcase could mean you feel or fear you aren’t staying on top of your responsibilities, you need to pay more attention to them, or the work area of your life seems neglected.”
I didn’t lose the briefcase, though. It was in plain sight the whole time. I just didn’t know the combination to open the darn thing.
The website also mentions “To see or carry a briefcase in your dream, represents your level of preparedness in some situation or circumstance. It also refers to your concerns and worries about work and travel.”
But I never carried it. For the most part, it in my living room.
Compiling everything I looked up, my briefcase dream means I’m worried about work. Apparently I’m so worried I have a little baby job inside of my main job? And mean people are after it. Because I have the enviable, hot-market job of… data entry. Yeah, who wouldn’t be after that?
Huh.
Or…
Last week – about the same time as the dream – I blogged I felt like a spy because of my late night, covert, dark library parking lot entries. The fact I never found out what was so important in the briefcase inside the briefcase just shows how lazy I am. I couldn’t even come up with a decent ending for my adventure created in my own subconscious.
As I said before, I don’t give much stock into dreams. They are just stories my subconscious is trying to share with me. Typically they are a mash-up of my day that comes out in sometimes entertaining plot lines. Sometimes disturbing plot lines. Don’t look too hard for a hidden meaning. I’m not that deep.
Giving Out the Giggles
You never know when a laugh is going to hit you. Hollywood spends top dollar to hire sitcom writers and their jokes fall flat. But a one minute commercial hawking services gives me the giggles. Go figure.
First of all, I’ve never had that much trouble with a garden hose. After all, it’s a garden hose. I’m pretty sure I’m smarter than it. After watching this commercial a couple of times though, I think I found out why I never encountered the problems these poor folks have. I’ve never watered my lawn in black and white. They just need to turn on the color. Problem solved.
But what really gave out the giggles to me is about 41 seconds into the ad. Yeah, that’s what I look like when I’m using a sprayer. “Ooh, seven settings make me so giddy!” Or, “I must water the lawn. And then I will eat your brain because that’s what we freaky pod people do.” That last one could just be how my mind works though.
Oh, good times with the garden hose.
Never, Ever Push the Reset Button (a good general rule to live by)
Photo courtesy the web. Caption added.
This has been a busy week. As I mentioned, my internet was down for a few days. This dilemma and major inconvenience led to late night blog postings in the library parking lot. I hope y’all appreciated my posts this week because hanging out in the dark parking lot by my lonesome self was a bit creepy. Sure, I could have forgone the blog this week but I know me. Once I’m out of the habit I tend to forget to get back into it. (Squirrel!) That’s why I sat in the parking lot and posted. I have no delusions it was for your benefit, I know it was for mine.
Not only did I have late night library visits but I also had the opportunity to speak with Century Link representatives. I wish I could remember their names because they deserve a little shout out. Even if it is only to my faithful 5.
During my Monday night conversation I explained the problem I experienced with the internet. The service tech listened and asked what steps I had already taken to solve the problem.
“I turned off the modem. Unplugged all the cords and wires,” I hesitated. Should I confess everything? Might as well. “And I pushed the reset button.”
“Oh,” he said surprised at the disclosure. “We generally don’t recommend pushing the reset button as that returns the modem to its factory setting.”
Oh, dangme.
Apparently there is some sort of Century Link training in remaining optimistic and positive with the customer. He said in his next breath, “But way to go in trying every measure you could think of to restore the internet.”
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“No, that’s good. We now know you have tried almost everything.” He reassured me then he had me plug the modem into another phone jack. Still no success. “Okay, I am going to have to schedule a technician to come to your house. The next available time is Wednesday morning.” But what will I do in that 24 hour block called Tuesday? No internet. No Facebook. The horror!
Tyler, the Century Link Technician visited on Wednesday morning. He checked every room in the house (so glad my bed was made and no feminine articles of clothing were left out). “How old is the house?” he asked. Yes, we know our wiring is old. Then he went outside and discovered the problem. Late this summer we hired someone to come trim our tree. He had to unhook our wires and didn’t hook them up quite right when he finished.
We had internet again. Well, we would have if I hadn’t pushed the reset button. When I got home from work I had to call Century Link again. Another technician walked me through restoring the internet. I told him I have learned my lesson to never, ever push the reset button again.
Again, the Century Link positivity training came through. “That’s okay,” he said and laughed. “Sometimes it is helpful.”
In any case, I plan on making a note to tape to the back of the modem. It will read simply, “NEVER, EVER PUSH THIS TINY BUTTON RIGHT HERE. BAD THINGS HAPPEN.” Although I’m pretty sure I will remember from now on.
ck's days 