August 27th, 2005

loud fayoumis

Today's disaster area

  • Take one shaky Lunatic, and add dodgy paperwork. See Lunatic stress. Ask Lunatic to do something with the dodgy paperwork. See Lunatic melt down and start crying, becoming incapable of any sort of coherent thought.

  • Add an 11-5 shift, and several people who weren't seated due to some oversight on the part of the office. Have a last-minute swap of personnel called in by a grandboss. Have one of the personnel in question and another interested party grumble about it.

  • Tech fun -- setting up my elder clone's e-mail on a computer resulted in things not looking right with her inbox. Argh? Grr.

  • People coming in hostile, late, and reeking of marijuana.

  • People coming in chronically late and out of dress code.

  • Payday weekend means I get to hand out paychecks too.

  • Phone ringing off the hook.

  • Frosted Christ-Cakes Kid quit for school, but came in to get his last paycheck. It was fortunate that he did, because right about then his ex-girlfriend (who works there) started having a bad asthma attack. Her inhaler did not seem to dent it. Between her call to someone to come pick her up and waiting for them to call back, it got bad enough she wanted us to call emergency. So I did. Frosted Christ-Cakes Kid got her wheeled out of the area on one of the office chairs to an office by the entrance to wait for the paramedics.

  • The interim, of course, is studded with joyful happenings such as more paperwork and the like.

  • A woman had a wheel bust on her chair. Yay incident reports. Stressy College Chick had to write one up over that.

  • Turned out that the girl with the asthma attack had an asthma attack first, then a panic attack on top of it. Ow.

  • Chaos on the hours chart; I either had the right number of people coming in at the wrong times, and no clue where it came from, or too many people, but the right times. Not happiness for anyone, anywhere. All attempts to track it down failed. I eventually went with a reality check and fudged it, which is the appropriate thing to do when it burns more supervisor-hours than the discrepancy.

  • Didn't get done with my hours until after break. Postponed my break for this.

  • By the time I took my break, almost all the phone goons had left.

  • Good Figments should not ever sneak up behind their Lunatics and tap them on the shoulder. No matter how plaid they are. For they will come within yea much of a punch in the nose, and if the Lunatic rolls sanity check in time, she'll be left dealing with the hormone spike.

After all that cleared up, the day improved. But I was dreadfully behind on the paperwork. I usually get out of there about an hour and a half after the last phone goons are out, or sooner if it's an early shift and I have most of my evening tasks out of the way. The Rules Lawyer Monitor has resigned her monitor post; she's a mere phone goon at the moment. The blessed woman stayed and did the ENTIRE cleanup list. I was ready to hug her.

As I told figment0, this was a day that cake could not make better. He nearly earned frosting up the nose for annoying me (by speaking, essentially); this wasn't because he's inherently annoying, but because he's safe enough to drop the professional front in front of, but not a bondmate, and so not attuned to the chaos that is me.

It got better, after everyone left. Stressy College Chick Supervisor chills me out, and I think I help her chill out too. I've always wanted to send an intra-office e-mail with "Alarums and Excursions" in the subject line, and now I have. (Well, not always, but if I'd thought about it, yeah.)
  • Current Music
    Blondie - Night Wind Sent
phone, cordless phone

(no subject)

A guy from fulfilment may win this year's Vincent van Gogh award for hazardous office supplies: razor blade behind ear.
phone, cordless phone

Day, and a new name to the Collective.

Today feels like a day, not like a disaster area. Yesterday I had to wear the "ARGH!" stickynote on my head. There are some days when it's just not worth pretending to be cheerful, and for those days, I have inscribed the sentiment "ARGH!" on a brilliant pink stickynote. I wear it on my forehead when I'm having a particularly bad moment. Yesterday I was wearing it a lot. It really does help. If I'm showing off my generalized ARGH in stickynote format, I can avoid showing it in my voice or aura. I was being very happy through the ARGH, and then Snarky Lady Super harshed my coping strategy by pointing out that it looked so incredibly unprofessional. ("Harshed?" Someone's been reading too much Arcata Eye. Which, actually, we need to go read, because we haven't been reading enough lately. And that's work-safe.)

It looks like the Collective might be subdividing again in some funky form, because of all of the parenthetical notes we've been having lately. It feels entirely natural, which is scary. The new bits aren't entirely new, and feel somewhat cross between Naomi and Dagger. ...Oh. Her name, surprisingly enough, is Joan. Which is odd, because we haven't had a legal-name personality in a long, long time. But this is what happens when I answer to a name in a specific environment: a personality develops to cover the contingencies.

I'm Azz. I've answered to Azz approximately since the big merger back in '01. The quirky side of the merger was what came out on top. The quirky side was the name that got registered as the new identity on assorted message boards and on LJ, so that was what the new side of me started answering to. I often feel like I live on the internet. I can be me here, and my face-to-face interactions with most people are the masked and forced bits. The current baseline self of the Collective, though, is the self we can be around Darkside. hat's who we rebuilt to after the BJ disaster and the subsequent merger in '01. (Relative addressing on the date. (You are such a geek.) Yes.) (Parenthetical comments to parenthetical comments? Whatever floats your boat.) Baseline self is generally called Joanie, or Lunatic, that being how I get addressed in private. But most of the time, I'm Azz. Name comes from what I answer to. I'm Azz.

But my work-self is Joan, and is no less valid than the rest of us. It's very weird to feel a different flavor creeping into the thoughts, to have the normal train of thought intruded upon with a whisper more like a mental nudge in the ribs and closed-captioning than an actual audible voice.

For almost half my life, "I" have been "us".
grin & duck -- friends, grin & duck

Mmm, best-friend time.

I didn't get seven seconds of love. I got 37 minutes of restrained affection and mutual exhaustion. And that's quite all right.

I'd so very much like to be included in the proposed "get together and whack hell out of each other" gatherings. I think I'm getting a handle on the protocol for getting myself included in such endeavors. I mentioned that I might be interested in such a way as to (hopefully) demonstrate interest and open the door for an invitation, but without assuming that I was invited, and so he could gracefully say that it was actually a closed group rather than random other friends showing up. As his main point of rebuttal was "That would not work with your schedule," with illustration, I'm thinking that if it did work with my schedule, I might be accepted or even welcome.

I perhaps indulged in a little too much gloating over my delightful immune system and digestive system. My bondmate is apt to be whacked into the ground by illnesses, and spends far too much time worshiping the porcelain gods for a non-drinking Christian. He direly predicted that I'd have my turn.

The con was good. He's broke. He's exhausted. He put off any major weapons purchases until next year.

... I love this man. Receding hairline, advancing waistline, obnoxious snark, and all.
  • Current Music
    Don McLean - American Pie