I'm Currently Away From My Desk

Good morning,

You've reached the blog of The Office Scribe.  I am currently away from my desk, guest blogging over at I Like To Fish.  Should you need to reach me, you can head over there and, in addition to reading my awesome guest post, stick around and read what wise words Travis has to say.

I will return to my desk tomorrow.  Unless this warm weather continues and then I am going to come down with a case of spring fever and hit the zoo.

Have a lovely day,

~ The Office Scribe

Manic Monday #26

Can someone help me out and tell me, in Polish, how to say "I'm sorry cleaning lady, but I think you have me confused with another coworker who speaks Polish since I can't understand what you are saying."  I'll trade you a "Sorry guy who cleans the parking lot.  I speak Spanish and I am pretty sure you aren't speaking it."

I was so hungry at lunch today that even though the center of my leftover pot roast was still crunchy with ice I ate it.  Short lunch breaks are the enemy of hot lunches.

Major perk of working in a company where people travel to foreign destinations on a regular basis?  You never know what may turn up in your candy dish.  I did a Google search on whatever was in there today and got zero hits.  Did I dare to eat something that even Google doesn't know about? Hell yes.

In my office yellow sweater + black pants = bee comments.

~ The Office Scribe

It's Because I Watched "New Moon", Isn't It?

So yesterday I may have seemed a little, what's the word, angsty, in my post yesterday.  See, that's what happens when someone has a rough day at the office and access to the internet.  You get posts about how horrible life is.

I'd like to thank those of you who sent me cheery messages in the comment section and on Twitter about how you hoped today would be better.  It made me smile.

Of course, I wonder what will be said when I describe the events of today...

7:30 AM - Wake up a la a Disney Princess with a positive outlook on the day

8:00 AM - Decide that in order to show everyone I am in a better mood, I take the time to put on a cute outfit and curl my hair.  Hell, I even threw on a little make up!

8:30 PM - Saunter out into the day, noticing the squirrels bouncing around and the sun shining in the sky, although there seem to be a few clouds.

9:00 AM - Arrive at the office.  Take one step out of my car and a gale force wind smacks into me.  Luckily, I know how to get to the front door of the office since I couldn't see because my neatly done hair was blowing around like crazy.

9:05 AM - Get to my desk and see a bunch of papers and a note from a co-worker.  Never a good sign.

9:05 AM - 6:05 PM - Spend these hours running around the office, answering e-mails, attempting to an ever growing to do list, and generally having a miserable day.

Highlights include:
- Trying to figure out how a shipment ended up 7 states away from its destination
- Me staring at a bottle of wine a coworker gave me for Christmas (but haven't take home) trying to not think about how many days until Easter arrived.
- Smelling scented hotel soaps with a coworker in an effort to use aromatherapy as a stress reducer
- Abusing my beet-shaped stress ball to no avail
- Printing the same e-mail on 3 separate printers because I couldn't remember what I was doing
- And don't think I didn't notice people generally avoiding me in the halls.

Luckily, I have some cool co-workers.  One person gave me a donut.  Another a brownie bite.  Someone told me to give up my sobriety (Lent induced) and drink the pain away.

But I'm convinced it is a curse I picked up on Saturday night when I watched "New Moon" with my friends.  It wasn't the act of watching such a film that cursed me, but that I promised my friends to not make snarky comments during the viewing.  All the pent up sarcasm is never good.  It blocks the chi flow and makes a persons karma go all wonky.

So, I might have to pull a "Mystery Science Theater 3000" and unleash the smartass in order to cleanse myself.  It's either that or drinking correction fluid and ending it all.

~ The Office Scribe

Well That Sucks

Dear Readers,

Did you happen to catch my post yesterday where I was a happy little ray of sunshine talking about karma and good deeds?

Yesh, well screw that.

Today was a terrible horrible no good very bad day at work.

The kind where 2 hours in you want to run screaming from your cubicle because it just sucks.

My god, if tomorrow isn't better one of you fools is going to have to come and save me from doing something crazy - like quitting the job I generally love which provides me with paychecks on a regular basis.

(((Sigh)))

I guess everyone is entitled to one craptastic day but dear god.

~ The Office Scribe

Pay It Backwards

There is nothing like getting in your car in the morning and before you back all the way out of your parking space the little light comes on indicating that if you don't stop and get gas you won't make it to work.  Which means you won't get paid.  Which means you won't be able to afford food.  Which means you'll lose like 50 pounds.  Which means you decide to become a model.  Which means you become  rich and famous.  Which means you have "friends" who hand you coke.  Which means you lose another 50 pounds.  Which means you end up losing your modeling contract.  Which means you eventually start turning tricks.

So like I said, not filling up your car with gas will turn you into a drug addled prostitute.

And since I like not, to quote Bob Saget, "to suck dick for coke" I stopped by the BP this morning and got some gas.  As I was pulling out of the station I noticed another car that was leaving still had his gas cap unscrewed.  So I thought "I'll be nice" and pulled in front of his car to prevent his exit and rolled down my window.  The funny thing is the guy looked freaked when I pulled in front of his car, like I was going to Mad Max his ass.  But he was genuinely happy that I told him about his gas cap and the two of us went on our way.

Fast forward 8 hours...

I had just pulled back into my parking spot after a LONG day at the office.  I grabbed my bad and trudged into my building.  I had just closed my door and threw the dead bolt when someone knocked. It was one of my neighbors, with my work key card which had fallen out of my pocket in the parking lot, in hand.

How awesome is that?  This happy little story proves two things:

1) I am not always a cynical bitch

2) That kid should stick to seeing dead people

What?  You thought I was going to say something about karma, didn't you.

~ The Office Scribe

Manic Monday #25

Driving into work this morning something caught my eye.  Shimmering in the sunlight along the side of the highway were strands of tape from a cassette.  It made me wonder if someone was driving along in their 1993 Chevy Cavalier, listening to "The Sign" by Ace of Base when they suddenly realized it was 2010 and no one still listened to cassettes, became instantly disgusted, and chucked it out the window.

I came into work this morning to approximately 65 e-mails.  Um, what!?!  How is that possible?  Granted, some of them could just be deleted because they were nonsense, but still, 65 e-mails? Believe me, I am not that important. I didn't even know where to start.  Which pretty much set the bar for how my who day went.

One of my coworkers said that, for a Monday, things were pretty quiet.  I pointed out that was because we were all so bloody busy that no one had time to talk.  He had to agree.  And then we both shut up and went back to work.

I drank so much coffee at work today because I think my building has already put the air conditioning on, and short of wearing a parka, it is the only thing I can do to keep warm. Because, not only is the coffee scalding as it boils to nothingness in the pot, but I keep warm by sprinting to the other side of the building to use the bathroom every 2 hours.  I could actually probably market it as some sort of diet while I am at it.

I absolutely love how excited people get when they find something in the candy box in my cubicle that they love.  They could be having a horrible day, but as soon as they find a mini Twix they are all like "Sweet" and "Awesome".  Who knew?

I have the irrational fear that the people in my office will once day break into a choreographed dance number a la "West Side Story" or "Slumdog Millionaire" and I won't know the steps.

~ The Office Scribe

Out of Office Message

I just realized yesterday that some people put Out of Office messages on their e-mail accounts even when they just leave the office at the end of the work week.  While it's nice to let people know you won't be back until Monday, I don't think this is a practice I could get behind for two reasons.

1) I can barely remember to put an Out of Office message on my phone when I am going to be actually out of the office on the rare occasion I take some time off.  So what makes me think I could do this every Friday?

2) I think my message would be mean.  For example, my message yesterday might have read something like this:

Greetings!


Thank you for your e-mail.  Unfortunately, I have already left for the weekend.  Ah yes, the weekend.  Those blissful 48 hours when the last thing on my mind is you and your ridiculous e-mails.  While you are wondering when I will get back to you, I will be lying around my house in pajama pants eating cold Chinese food and watching a marathon of "Ghost Hunters" on the SyFy channel.  


That's right.  I won't be doing anything heartwarming or productive while I don't think about my cubicle or the e-mails that will be waiting for my upon my return on Monday.  (And no, I am not going to tell you what time I am in on Monday.  You will just have to wait until I am good and ready to return your e-mail.)


So until you hear back from me, take it easy and enjoy whatever plans you have this weekend.  I'd love to stay and work* but I have to order some dim sum.


Have a lovely weekend,
The Office Scribe
Director of Weekend Nothingness


*P.S. - That's a lie.  I'd rather be watching "Ghost Hunters."

See what I mean?  I don't think I'd be able to filter out my joy of it being Friday which is why I just disappear into the darkness come 6:00 on Fridays.

~ The Office Scribe

P.S. - Anyone else living in the Midwest wake up this morning and ask themselves "Is that snow outside?  What happened to the 60 degree spring weather we had yesterday?"

Reason #823 Why My CoWorkers Adore Me

Like most people in the corporate world, sometimes you just need to go out after work for a cocktail.  Well, tonight was one of those nights.  It was especially important to me because I gave up alcohol for Lent and haven't had a drop since Ash Wednesday, but gave myself the night off in honor of St. Patrick (I know, that's tomorrow.  But I don't think I am going out tomorrow so suck on a lemon.)

Anywho, we go out, have a few drinks, and then someone asks the question.

"Hey...shouldn't you be baking us cupcakes tonight?"

"Yeah," I reply, about halfway into my second Black & Tan.  "I am going to bake when I get home."

"Oh.  Okay."

10 minutes later the same conversation happens but with a different coworker.

"Yeah, as soon as I finish this beer I am going to run the the Jewel, pick up some ingredients, then go home and bake."

"Oh.  Okay."

Just as I am finishing my beer...

"Are you sure you are going to have enough time to bake tonight?"

"Yeah, since we are all leaving I am going home to bake."

"Actually, we are all heading to another bar.  But I'll see you at work tomorrow.  Can't wait for those cupcakes."

So, instead of bar hopping with coworkers like the 20-something cubicle monkey I am, I came home to bake my signature Irish Car Bomb Cupcakes in order to please those I work with.

Someone owes me a beer the next time we go out.  And possibly a steak.

And don't even get me started on why I promised to bring someone a corned beef sandwich for lunch.

~ The Office Scribe

Manic Monday #24

Okay people, I am still alive.  You can stop walking through the cornfields with bloodhounds looking for me.  You can stop scouring the sky with the aid of a zeppelin looking for me.  You can stop having divers check that retention pond behind the housing development where that weird kid leaves.

As it turns out, the only downfall about writing a blog about work is that, sometimes, work has you so busy and stressed out that the last thing you want to do when you get home from work is write about work.

But fret not - I am back this week.  Work be damned!  I am a blogger and so I shall blog!

Now back to your show, already in progress... Manic Monday #24

You know how you know it's officially spring?  When you wander out to your living room in pants and a bra, completely forgetting that you left one section of your blinds open, only to find one of the grounds guys out on your patio with a leaf blower.  Nothing like starting your week off with a peep show for the landscapers!

Similar to a lightbulb question: How many office employees does it take to correct an auto text?  Answer:  Waaayyyy too many.  This is why we should never upgrade anything in the office.  I'm starting a movement to bring back typewriters and those photocopier things like they used in the movie Animal House.

I took 8 years of Spanish because my dad promised me a trip to any Spanish speaking country I wanted to go to.  I did not actually expect to be using it in the workplace....

The key to making the day go faster is to head off campus for lunch.  Seriously, you leave at 2:00 PM to get a salad and half a Sierra Turkey from Panera and the day just FLIES by.

It freaks me out when someone calls me on the phone and because they sit so close to me, I can hear them on the phone and from where they are in their cubicle.  It's like I am listening to 2 separate conversations and I always end up being confused.  Which them makes me sounds like a 'tard on the phone which leads to my coworkers thinking less of me.  And that's just not cool.

~ The Office Scribe

Manic Monday #23

I have decided I want to trade in my cubicle for and glassed in office with mini blinds that I can close and make people think I am up to no good.  Which, of course, I wouldn't be.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I may have to officially give up regular lattes and start drinking soy.  Why?  Because my stomach felt like I was kicked by a donkey all day.  And nothing makes a really long Monday feel even longer than the horrible feeling of being kicked by a donkey.  But before anyone can make a snarky comment, yes, being kicked by a donkey is better than being punched by one.

Some companies have shirts with their logos printed on them.  Mine doesn't.  But I would totally wear a fleece with a logo on it because my office was about 40 degrees today while it was probably 45 degrees outside.

My mom packed my lunch today and put a pudding cup in the bag.  And for that she totally deserves Mom of the Year.

I spent a good portion of Saturday afternoon on a pub crawl (which is awesome when you aren't drinking BTW) but since it has been winter and I haven't been out walking munch, I feel like I did 1,000 squats.  And nothing eases your muscles like sitting in a desk chair.  I got up at one point to go to the printer and almost fell over.

On my long commute in today it was really foggy, like the moors of England foggy.  I was afraid I was going to be late because I might hit the Hound of the Baskervilles and Sherlock Holmes would tear me a new one.  Unless it was the RDJ Sherlock Holmes, then I guess that would be allright.

~ The Office Scribe

Well Stick Me In A Bowl And Call Me Flounder

For many years it has been said that a goldfish has a memory of about 3 seconds. I guess that means I am a descendant of Atlantis because I have the world's worst short term memory.  My mother used to commonly ask me to do something and before she even left the room I had forgotten what she had asked me to do.  Well, as you can imagine, this didn't make my mom too happy.  So, in order to avoid the unnecessary fights with my mom, I took took to writing stuff down.

I write everything down.  
* Grocery lists.
* What to bring to a friends house.
* Possible band names (Note: I don't play an instrument).
* Ideas for blog posts.
* Yo Mama jokes
* When to pay my bills
* People who make me mad

And so the lists go on and on.

Since I am such a fun loving list lady, I always have paper, notebooks, Post-Its, etc around on which to jot my thoughts.

Except for Tuesday.  A co-worker asked if I was going to run an Oscar pool again this year.  Oh yeah, I said, I just forgot to send the e-mail out.  Since we were in a presentation where I didn't have to take notes, I didn't have a notebook on which to write a reminder.  So I harkened back to my elementary high school college days and wrote the word OSCAR on my hand.

Like I said, that was Tuesday.  Since then I have taken 3 showers, a bath, and washed my hands more times than I can count.  And wouldn't you know it, I can still make out the word.  It's not like I used a Sharpie or anything.  It was a cheap Bic pen.  You know, the kind that can barely write on paper.

Normally I would be worried that my coworkers would be thinking I was the dirtiest employee at my company, but since (A) I have been so busy this week to even think about it and (B) I know I am not, I don't care.  I just want the word off my hand because everytime I look at it all I can think is of Oscar Bluth and his two pairs of pants.

And that just means I'm weird.

~ The Office Scribe

I Broke My Brain Today

I am not sure how one does such a thing - but I believe I broke my brain today.

If I were to have a CAT scan I am sure it would look something like this:

I was making more errors on my proposals than the outfield of the Chicago Cubs.

By the end of the day, nothing was going right.

One of my coworkers said I lost my mind.

I think I need to put that on my business card.

Thank god tomorrow is Friday because I may not know how a brain gets broken, but I know how to fix one...

Jeans.  Jeans cure broken brains.

God bless Casual Friday.

~ The Office Scribe

1995 Stopped By And Left This For You

Warning:  The following has nothing to do with work.  But sometimes, you need a 15 year old hip hop song with a cathy riff which makes you dance around you apartment to relieve the stress of work...




Happy Wednesday everyone...

~ The Office Scribe

What's That Smell?

Ladies and Gentlemen...

I today's episode of "What's That Smell?" we find ourselves in a corporate elevator.  You have one floor (because you are feeling lazy) to figure out what that lingering odor reminds you of.  Here are some clues to help...

Clue #1 

Clue #2

Clue #3

First person with a blog who gets the answer right will be my next victim in my "Under the Desk with The Office Scribe" interview segment.  (I mean, I guess I can interview you if you don't have a blog, but what would you be pimping?)

~ The Office Scribe

Memoir Monday #2 - Home Schooled Kids Are Weird

Believe it or not, I was not born in a cubicle.  There was life before the office and I am sure there will be life after the office.  Inspired by Travis over at I Like To Fish I have decided to hop on his ever expanding bandwagon and sometimes replace my usual Manic Monday post with something called a Memoir Monday.  But it will not just be any story about my past.  True to form, all of these posts will be about a job I have held in the past, be it paid or volunteer.

My parents were (and still are) pretty cool people. Which is why at the age of 10 when I said I wanted to volunteer at the historical village (think Williamsburg) a few towns over, they said "okay".  So we convinced my grandmother to make me an outfit only an Ingalls would be jealous of and I went to work.  It was pretty sweet.  I got to churn butter, stitch quilts, and become quite proficient with a hoop and stick.   I enjoyed it so much I stayed on for nearly 7 years. (Plus it looked pretty sweet on a college application.)  And during that time, aside from learning a lot about the settling of Illinois, I also learned that there are no weirder children in the world than those that are home schooled.

I would say about 40% of the kids and teens who volunteered there were home schooled.  And kudos to their parents for getting them out of the "classroom" and into a semi social environment.  But perhaps a fake village where all people do is pretend to be from another time isn't the best way to introduce them to reality....

As you may have picked up from reading this blog, I can be a little, um, sarcastic.  I can also be somewhat of a bully.  It's not like I set out to be mean, but like a shark that smells blood in the water I attack when I smell weakness in another human.

So imagine the torture I inflicted upon kids who, in the late 90's, has never heard of Nirvana, South Park, or Loveline.  Kids who talked about how much fun their parents made algebra.  Kids who spent their weekends volunteering with the elderly and their best friend was their Golden Retriever, Mollie.

Sure, the kids were nice, but they lived in a little bubble where the only people they knew were other home schooled kids.

It was during my tenure at the village that I learned what the term "socially retarded" meant.

For example:

Whenever we had visitors in the house we had to stay in character and talk about like in the 1830's (I worked in the log house).  As soon as the people would leave, us volunteers would close the door and chat like any other group of teens.  Except for the home schooled kids.  Even when there was no one else in the house, they stayed in character.  (I know, how very method of them.)

I would start talking about the movie I saw the night before or how I was at a school dance.  The home schooled kid would act astonished and ask in a British accent (because homesteaders in northern Illinois sounded like the Beatles?) what a movie was.  Or how they enjoyed a good evening around the fire, darning socks while Pa read to them from the Bible.

The best part was sometimes, we weren't sure if that's actually what the had done the night before or if they were just reciting something from "Little House in the Big Woods".

So parents, I don't care how bad you think your local schools are, send your kids.  You can help them with their school work but you are useless when it comes to helping them form social skills.  I mean, what's the point of being a genius straight A student who graduates from Harvard in 2 years if you can't use it to get laid?

~ The Office Scribe

I know this title alone is going to bring the fury should the parents who decided to home school their children ever stumble across this page.  But guess what, I don't care.  Would you preform a complicated medical procedure on child?  Chances are no, you wouldn't.  And why?  Because chances are you are not a licensed medical professional.  So I ask: Why do you think you have the skills to teach your kid anything past coloring within the lines and nap time?