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A day at work

Got up early and got doughnuts for the crew. The Krispy Kreme (I shudder at the name still) that Comic Pirate Supervisor passed by has shut down; he used to get Saturday morning doughnuts for us. This went off well. I got cookies with Rev. Not-So-Nice Super in mind (he doesn't like doughnuts; he prefers muffins).

Early-ish on in the morning, I got a phone call in from someone who'd been called by one of our surveys and wasn't entirely sure she liked the idea. She wanted to know what the survey was about. We run upwards of five different surveys at a time in this place; how am I supposed to know what survey one person got called about? I explained this to her, a little more diplomatically; she told me what I needed to know to figure out what the survey was about. Once I recognized what it was, I was able to tell her the general content of the survey.

She went off on a tangent about how she hated the Corporate Culture idea, how it's all about love and prayer, and how she'd been praying to stop the hurricane and if everyone had been holding peace and love in their hearts and asked for the hurricane to stop, it would have. Jesus could have made it stop, or a saint (or two), but it's a bit much for the ordinary person. And on. And on. And on.

At first I was giving the wide-eyed look and the "I've got a live one and SHE IS A NUT" face, but after a while of listening to her, I started remembering the cosmic joke again, and wound up telling her the story I'd read as a kid, the Chinese story of Heaven and Hell, with the three-foot chopsticks. She'd never heard that one before, but she liked it. She used to only pray for love and peace, but then she realized that in order to do anything, you need power, so now she prays for that as well, though she's not sure how she'd actually be if she HAD it. It was at this point that I cited Spiderman.

We got off the phone with each other pretty pleased about the whole thing.


The lady in the office likes my spreadsheet for tracking hours corrections. Dayshift was having trouble finding it; I slipped them a copy in their hours folder so they can use it if they want to. I should shove another copy in the Original Documents folder. I am squirreling this stuff all over.

We had supervisors out today, so it was a smaller shift than it could have been. There were root beer floats on Friday; there'd been a fundraising event. Saturday shift wound up with the leftovers. Hooray leftovers!

My elder clone has tiny roses. She winds up with some at work. Thursday or Friday, she left one lying on top of the monitor, right at the top ledge without ventilation holes. This was a thorny-stemmed miniature red rose, not quite in full bloom, just barely out of the bud. It slowly dried up there. It still smells delightful, and it's great having it there.


This Friday was payday. I get the checks to distribute. This week I also got a packet of papers that need to be signed and returned, information about the new system. I've been giving them out with the checks, or rather, issuing them to be signed immediately, along with a generic copy for their reference. It's just information that they need to know about the system, but it's evidently crucial.

I forgot to use the new system to log in briefly to establish my hours to edit on Friday. Bad Loony. Ack.
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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