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Day: work, read, out-with-family

Pried myself out of bed and went to work. Distributed more than my fair share of poor reports, on similar issues, all on $ISSUE_SIDE_JOB. Rev. Nice Super was running that one today.

The final poor report, Rev. Nice Super came back in with, and told me that he'd had a policy consultation on it, and it wasn't strictly necessary to mark waaay down for the boo-boo that the interviewer had made, though it wasn't best practice. I was much relieved, because the phone goon had been doing an otherwise very good job, just that one potentially not-so-little thing.

One person, though! No respect for data integrity! No respect for statistical randomness! There were two possible people eligible to be interviewed living in the household. The computer selects one at random (which is probably random-weighted-by-the-interviews-we-already-have sorted by age/gender) and the survey is then done with that one. In this household, the person the computer selected was not able to come to the phone at that time. And what did the naughty phone goon do? The naughty phone goon backed up more than one data-collection screen (which often messes with the skip order or does funky things to data integrity) and then deleted the unavailable respondent from the data (there are no words), then started doing the interview with the other person.

That was bad.

The Trader Joe's Lady Monitor came in with nothing to do. I gave her a few random people, including a "needs extra attention" person, so I could get started on getting the rest of the people who had been on $ISSUE_SIDE_JOB (who had switched to something else). It was a good thing that I'd given her that person right then, because they wound up hanging up on a person in the middle of a survey while they were being monitored their second time. (The Trader Joe's Lady Monitor said she guessed they thought they could get away with that because they'd already been monitored that day. Heh. Guess again!)

On break, I got to tell someone who'd really been doing a good job just how good a job he'd done. Reinforcing the monitor reports, belike. In the report comments, I have to keep things professional and somewhat stiff; in person, I can give the good-job-doing phone goon my on-the-phones-professional smile-and-voice (the one that the Nice Geek Super mentioned and referred to as "that sexy voice", hee).

Came home. Crashed out with book for a while. Evidently this was a bit long of a while, as Sis got the shakes before we headed out for dinner, and I wound up driving.

I'm doing a lot better with driving. That other weekend was a bad day, with worse traffic, and me not in full possession of myselves. Today was a good day, with minimal lane-changing and enough gaps in traffic for me to do my thing.

Salmon sushi (sashimi, even) is goooooooooood.
Orange chicken is gooooooood.
General Tso's chicken is better.

We went to a new place -- more crowded, more sushi, more variety in sushi, fried dumplings not as good (I wish I knew the characters for the name, because it's one of my favorite foods; in Mandarin it comes out sounding like chow-dze), swifter service, better teriyaki chicken, and less of the home-cooking flavor. This one was the China Star Buffet on 35th Ave & Dunlap; I'd gone there back sometime in 2001 with the UAO. *waves at reichiere* It was interesting, having been through changes myself, remembering some of my state of mind at the time.

The Little Fayoumis was somewhat wiggly, and a little messier than he should have been, but not as messy as he could have been. He may have mastered the concept of bouncing in his head only, in his lab (his own mental construct, based on Dexter's Laboratory to start with, and then modified to include absolutely everything else that a small boy might want) rather than bouncing with his body. Maybe. I think he was getting it there towards the end.

After we were done with supper, we wandered into the reasonably-large-but-not-too-large oriental grocery on the other side of the parking lot. There was all this STUFF! I found myself reasonably conversant with some of the ingredients (while my roommates were wandering around somewhat lost); marxdarx was bemused when I went into raptures over a box of red bean jelly mix. I do need to get some of that, because, red bean jelly! I also know what FatherSir wants for Yule, even though he doesn't specifically know that he wants it yet. I managed to escape with pocketbook remarkably unscathed, getting only one large bottle of rice wine vinegar for about the same price as we could get a bottle a third the size at the supermarket on our own corner, and a bag of coffee candies.

I figured out what Mama wants for Yule in the shower. Hee!
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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