slip ups

What's a first day of work without a little awkwardness, right?

I went to bed Sunday night exhausted from a crazy fun too-much-vodka exactly-how-I-wanted-it-to-be weekend. I was too tired to even plan out my outfit the night before... yep, I was THAT tired! I am the girl who has her closet color coordinated and always has her outfit picked out the night before and ESPECIALLY on the eve of an important day!!

I first awoke from a nightmare where Juliann (my weekend Boston visitor) caused me to miss my first day of work because she couldn't find her bus back to Boston! So I woke up stressed out and confused with how much time to give myself for my new commute. I ended up being about 7 minutes late for paperwork. Big fat OOPSIES...

I got my ID issued, got to my new desk, was welcomed, got a little tour, etc. Phew.. so far so good. Then I realized that I have been meaning to buy a slip for the skirt I decided to wear yesterday because it is see through--oh yeeahhh... Definitely see through and yesterday was also laundry day which means I didn't have the best choice of undergarments. I decided to go to Bloomingdales on my lunch break to buy a slip. I told the sales girl I didn't need a bag for it because I was going to put it on immediately. She glanced down and noticed my cream colored skirt and grey underwear combo and with a little smirk, pointed me to the fitting room. I got in the fitting room and put the slip on and all of a sudden MARBLES flew off my wrist and bounced all along the fitting room floor. My favorite bracelet broke and went bouncing around in the Bloomingdales fitting room.

I scooped the beads up and realized I was starving. Food was second on my lunch to do list after the slip, so I wandered around my new work area in search of a deli. I found one that seemed strangely familar so I walked in. This deli had hand drawn pictures of all the food just like one near my former employer Abercrombie & Fitch. hmm interesting, I thought. They had the exact same things and prices too. That's when I made eye contact with one of the guys behind the counter and we exchanged a strangely familiar look. It was one of the guys who used to make my turkey club for me every day at my old deli!!!

In the packed deli he shouts, "hey I remember you! How are you? Your hair is different, but I would never forget you!"

I responded that I recognized him too and that I have highlights now. He informed me that the deli has the same owners as my alma mater deli a few blocks away. We had a nice little laugh as he handed me my familar and comforting turkey club.

Still smiling at the irony and full circle moment I had, I was stopped by the receptionist on my way back to my desk because I had a flower delivery! My boss had sent me flowers as a welcome! So fun!!! Day one yesterday was a slip up success.

friday funday

I'm SO excited it's finally Friday!! It's my last day of work, my Boston bestie Juliann is visiting, I'm slightly hungover for the second day in a row, and this weekend is gonna be FUN! I may as well be wearing this.

strapped for cash

So we're in a recession and funds are tight. I live in an apartment where the rent costs me literally 48.998% of my monthly salary. Depressing. Stressful. (And yes, I did play around with the calculator to get the closest percentage possible.)

This morning I decided to look online at potential part-time jobs. I could work in a boutique or babysit once or twice a week, right? I have no experience in the food/bar biz so that minimizes my options a lot. I've been doing some Craiglisting and here's what I found. What do you think?

Pretty Girls With Pretty Feet Wanted! ($600 - $800 Per week)

Famous foot fetish company in New York City that specializes in
Foot Fetish Sessions is seeking very attractive girls ages 18 - 29
to get paid $50 per hr to have their feet massaged and kissed
during foot fetish sessions! There is guaranteed work for each
model we hire at least 2 days per week.

As a bonus, the girls we hire for this will also get to work at our
world famous foot fetish parties in NYC! You will get to make
up to $500 per night going to an upscale party and having your feet
worshiped!

Its some of the easiest money you will ever make and there is
absolutely no sex, you don't have to be nude, and it is 100% legal
unlike other fetish jobs you may have seen on craigslist. Perfect for
actresses, models, and college students that need high paying
part time fun and easy work in this super expensive city.

To get this job you must be very attractive, have pretty feet,
be open minded about fetishes and fantasies, adventurous,
and enjoy parties and being fun and social. You also must
be punctual and responsible at the same time.

We are hiring asap so apply now if you feel you qualify and please
send ALL THREE of the following....
1. Your Name
2. Your Number
3. A Recent Photo

We will call you asap if interested and could possibly get you
some work as soon as this week! Good luck and talk to you soon!

This might be one of the weirdest things I have ever researched. PLEASE check out their website for foot fetish parties! There's actually one tomorrow night! I spent a lot of time just now reading all the pages, FAQ's and looking at the pics! wtf!?? I wonder if my feet are pretty enough to make it?

From what I read, you may be asked to do a "private session" where attendees can do whatever their twisted foot-lusting minds desire including Foot Worship, Trampling, Tickling, Foot Smelling, and Foot Domination. The only thing I'd want to partake in is Foot Domination and only if that means kicking someone in the face.

Make money fast! (Lower East Side)

Reps needed to canvas the 5 boroughs and locate wheel-chair accessible restrooms. Start immediately. Please contact us and let us know which borough you are interested in researching. Looking specifically for people in Queens, Brooklyn, Staten Island, and the Bronx. Reps will also be required to enter address and phone number of found locations into a spreadsheet. We need this done, thoroughly, accurately, and immediately. Compensation: $5 for every location you identify.

This one doesn't seem so bad?! It's like a hunt for wheelchair bathrooms! But at $5 per location identified you'd have to spend a lot of time running around NYC bathrooms to make it worth it. I wonder if you could just start calling businesses asking if they're wheelchair accessible?? hmm... this has potential.

Noho Boutique seeking experienced Sales Person (SoHo)

A Bleecker Street boutique in the works to becoming the leading men’s fashion destination is seeking an experienced, talented, communicative sales associate to be part of our team. The boutique is scheduled for its grand opening in September, until then we will get to know you by participating in our sample sale.

Qualifications:
-Strong Sales Experience!!! Only experienced need apply!
-You must have a history of positive sales in a boutique environment.
-Cash handling experience/Cashier Experience
-Friendly
-Must be able to pass a background check
-Must be flexible
-Must have an eye for fashion/Coordinating
-Must have a fresh personal style
-Great Customer Service
-Must manage time efficiently: work quickly and effectively
-You must be proactive in your approach
-You must be the type of person who exhibits high standards in all areas of the workplace, promoting team morale and motivation.
- You are expected to create a sales focused environment and to maximize sales whenever possible.

Job Details:
-Working Cash Register
-Working Sales
-Working Fitting room
-Putting Back Clothes
-Picking Phone orders
-Visual (Dressing Manikins) <--NOTE THE SPELLING!
-Merchandising
-Greeting/ Customer Service
-Working with High-End Clothing

This post really isn't hilarious or weird or interesting.. I just think its funny that they are so particular with their qualifications and don't even know how to spell mannequin! I guess it does say the only thing you must pass is a background check, not a spelling test.

So what do you think? Feet, Toilets, or Manikins?

was gonna complain about my job, but...

I better be careful what I say!

Yikes!!! what happened to freedom of speech?!

I feel the need to complain a little bit anyway:

1. Yesterday someone literally emailed me an address and told me to print it on a label and stick it on an envelope. I can't believe I went to college for this. I have papercuts on my knuckles.
2. My fave bra broke this morning.
3. My skirt keeps spinning around backwards when I walk.
4. Monday night some kid ran by me and slapped my ass.
   

How is it only Wednesday?

Judais-dumb

One of the best things about my new job is the diversity. I work with old, young, tall, short, black, white, Asian, Indian, Jewish, Catholic, Christian, gay and straight people... you name it, we've got it. I really like this about the company I am with. I like being exposed to different people. I had mandatory diversity training in my old job and I'm sure I probably got at least an A- on some sort of college paper on the topic. I'd say I have a pretty open mind, but I am learning I am uneducated.

My boss is an Orthodox Jew. There are several Orthodox Jews in the office. This is not a problem for me... except it is. My raised-in-a-Christian-home self does not know how to say or spell Chaim, Moishe, Lichtenstein, or Leizhersohn. I receive calls and verbally butcher innocent victims' names as I try and get my mouth to reproduce sounds I know I can't repeat. Before this job "The Chosen" was probably the most exposure I ever had to a Jew. I have become so obsessed with my lack of awareness and being sensitive, that now I swear I see mirages of yamakas on every man's head I see. This is only the beginning of my problem. I don't think I ever paid attention or retained any studied facts about Judaism that I may have learned in school. Here's why:

One of my first days I said mister on the phone and my boss corrected me to address the man as RABBI. Rabbis often come visit and call him and don't speak English. This makes me nervous.

There is a kosher fridge in the kitchen next to me. I don't know what I can and can't do with it. All I know is that I shouldn't be putting any BLTs in there. I prefer to take the safe route and leave it alone and use the fridge down the hall.

This older man in the office likes to visit me and give me candy and of course I encourage this. One time when I was not at my desk he hid a mint behind my stapler. He called me to give me the hint to look behind my stapler and in my excitement I said without thinking, "Ohhh fun! It's like an Easter egg hunt on my desk!" I hung up my phone and realized I just mentioned Easter to a Jew. Shit.

The same candy guy shared a box of chocolates with me to celebrate the birth of his grandson. As I was savoring a delicious raspberry truffle, in my ignorance I asked, "awww! What's the baby's name?" There was a pause in the room and he told me Jewish babies are not named until 8 days after their birth when he will be circumcised. "Do you know what a circumcision is?" he asked me. No... can you please explain?... with a diagram? How mortifying.

Needless to say, I've been spending a lot of time on Wikipedia but it hasn't been paying off. Somehow no matter what I read, something dumb is still able to slip out of my mouth. I'm trying to educate myself, but it's humiliating to have to immediately minimize my internet browser when someone gets within reading distance and can read the tabs I have open: JUDAISM 101, Keeping Kosher, 2009 Jewish holiday calendar, Answers.com-Shabbos.

I guess I should have actually read "The Chosen" and not just the Cliffs Notes.

b as in booger

You know when you are on the phone with someone trying to confirm the spelling of something because B sounds like D, T and P. To help someone decipher between these letters, we say things like "P as in Paul and D as in David."

When I worked in banking, for some reason I had trouble coming up with example words. With stock tickers, our trader wouldn't even say the letters, he'd simply shout into the phone "Larry Mother Apple Tom." But the types of words that pop into my head are "Lick Ass Monster Tits." Why do I turn into a perverted 12 year old boy? Are there words that I'm supposed to use for these situations that no one ever told me about? I have to stop and think about G-rated words to use.

I've always wondered what would happen if I actually did a pervy letter combo. "No, sir I said P as in pee pee, not B as in booger."

getting to know my new coworkers

I've never worried too much about meeting people and making friends. At any new job my tactic is to learn the job first, then venture out to make friends. If doing both at the same time is possible, even better. I've only been at my job for a week and am already making friends. I already have people bringing me candy. I have a bag of black licorice candies in my drawer and can't stop eating them! Today specifically was a great day for me to make friends with my new coworkers!

This afternoon the COO gave me a few labeling projects to do. He brought over 3 boxes of company logo pens and placed them on the ledge of my cube and left them for me to label. I made nice labels and stuck them to all sides of the boxes and then for some reason in an "I'm finished" kind of way I instinctively PUSHED the box a little too hard. The entire box fell off the ledge in a HUGE LOUD CRASH and pens spilled all over my cubiclemate's floor.

In an instant it felt like heads popped out of offices and every door frame like in cartoons when everyone's heads peek out at different levels. A couple of people came out to see what I had done and help. My face got so red as I frantically scooped up as many pens as I could and threw them into the box. Awkwardly I said things like "Pen Pinata!" and "Well this is a great way to meet everyone in the office!" and "That sure is a narrow ledge"

Then after regaining my composure after the pen incident I went to file a few things in my boss's office. The COO came by again. By the way, the COO is a grandpa-like guy. He is really serious but for some reason always winks at me--at least I think that's what his eyes do. He contorts his face in a way that resembles a wink sometimes but actually it looks a little painful. Anyway, he came in the office to chat with me while I was filing for a second. After he left I looked down at my shirt to brush off the little hole punch holes only to notice the MIDDLE BUTTON of my shirt was completely undone making my Victoria's Secret very public.

So now I am the new girl who dropped a million pens, exposed her bra and has a black licorice stained grey mouth. Great first impressions! I have a successful future ahead of me.

may recap

May has been an interesting month. I have to be honest and say I am glad it's over in 40 minutes. Here's the scoop:

May 1-3: My life coach and BFF Colleen visitsMay 4: I get laid off
May 5: I turn 25
May 6-8: Search for jobs
May 8-11: I go to Seattle for a weekend trip; boyfriend gets his backpack stolen :-( I get to spend Mother's Day with my mom and grandma :-)May 11-18: Boyfriend goes to LA for work; I spend my lonely days searching for jobs and interviewing
May 21: I accept a job offer
May 21-25: Phoenix reunion trip with my my best friends in the entire worldMay 26-29: First week of new job
May 29-31: Spend entire weekend with boyfriend :-)Phewww I'm exhausted and ready for a new month. Happy June!

memoirs of behhnard.

A few weeks into my old job, just when I thought I was getting the hang of my ridiculously tedious multi-step reporting spreadsheet, Frenchman Behhnard the portfolio manager came to point out something important.

"uhh Jamie, there izz somezzing wrong with thizzz," he said in his French accent.

Shit I must've messed up on the number of shares again, or forgot to change the date, I thought. I always seemed to make stupid mistakes.

"I don't like when thizzz izzz like thizzz. I don't undehhhstand why you would do it like thizzz and not like thizzz." He said as he pointed to the alignment of the lefthand-side staple.

"Oh, ok." I said, unsure of what just happened. Was he really giving me critiques on my staple alignment? He must not know that I am a college graduate. A slightly askew 90 degree angle staple is a problem?! That French asshole Behhhnard is lucky I even take the time to staple his effing sheets.

From that point on I literally had to focus my hands on stapling straight and if it wasn't a good staple I would switch his copy with someone else's. Ridiculous.

Last November I was chosen to go on a business trip with Behhnard to Boston for a financial trade show. I was the assistant who would do all the bitch-work for him. Great, this is going to be the weekend from hell. I arrived to the convention center and our booth had n-o-t-h-i-n-g. No carpet, no table, no chairs. What do I do? I thought about stealing one of the other booth's stuff. No. That's not right. I end up going over to the supply people and order $500 worth of booth supplies. The nice Boston accented workers helped me out a TON and I managed to set it all up. whhheewww.

The next morning was the first day of the convention. My cell phone rings as I am ironing my shirt.

"ughhh Jamie. I have some good news and some bad news. The bad news izzz that I am late coming iiiiin on the train. The good news izzz you get to be a biiiiiig girl and be in the booth my youhhself"

This is just fabulous. What do I know about selling mutual funds??! I stand in the booth from 8am until 1pm smiling and chatting with random passersby trying my best to AVOID talking about mutual funds.

He finally arrives and immediately heads off to get himself a plate of food. This man is unbelievable! I have been standing here for 5 hours and I am starving and my face hurts from fakey chit chat smiling!

"ughhh Jamie, you can go geeet some food iiiif you like" he says. Thanks for the permission, jerk.

The rest of the day goes by with him completely rearranging how I set up the booth, him making me stand in front and smile while he sits and reads his newspaper. He makes me staple his business cards to the flyers. I have shaky hands trying to make perfect 90 degree angles. Just alight the staple parallel to the top of the paper. You can do this Jamie.

At one point he had the brilliant idea that all Chinese people at the convention were wealthy investors and he literally made me CHASE a group of Asians across the convention center to give them a brochure. This is humiliating. THEN he has the idea that I am a good salesperson and says he wants me to hold his sign and walk up and down the aisle Vanna White style to advertise our booth. I refuse.

At the end of the night he disappeared for awhile and came back with purple stained teeth, smelling like a bottle of merlot. This is when he begins quizzing me on option trades.

"iiiiif your jacket costs $100, at what price do you sell the rights for someone to buy iiiiit at $90?"

huh?

He continued to try and give me examples of ways that I would understand the concept of a put and a call. I had been in this convention center booth for 12 hours and am being quizzed on OPTION TRADES by a drunken Frenchman. I DO NOT WANT TO DO THIS RIGHT NOW. Lucky for me, the convention center lights were shut off in the middle of this conversation, but he continued the finance tutorial sesh all the way up the escalators, out the door, and the entire cab ride to the hotel.

The next day was a half day, but my cell phone rings at 6:45am with Behhnard telling me to go buy markers and tape because he wants to make a new sign for today. I fast forward my makeup and hair straightening routine so I can run to Staples. He is unhappy with my purchases and makes me go buy another kind of tape. This man is impossible. What I should have bought at Staples is an easy button.

The second it is announced that the day is over he packs up his wheelie suitcase and leaves me to pack up all the stuff and tear down the booth by myself. Why was I surprised? After that I passive aggressively made his staples a just a little bit crooked.

601,000 new friends

601,000 jobless claims for May week 2. I feel like I just somehow made 601,000 new friends. I wonder if they're out there doing the same things as me. I think unemployment brings out an entirely different side in myself--a side I'm pretty sure I don't like much. I've been doing weird things and acting out in tantrums and cry fests. I wonder if my 601,000 new friends are too. Here's a summary of what I've done with myself since Monday. If you're one of my new friends, let's compare.

Monday

• Walked out of ex-employer and into the rain.
• Cried a little bit on the phone with (my super awesome) boyfriend
• Ran an errand for him
• Went home and put on sweats and fixed up resume
• Met formerly unemployed friend Chris for pep-talk, tea and a sandwich
• Worked on resume some more
• Met boyfriend after he finished work. Broke down crying the second he hugged me
• Went to Whole Foods where I had a temper tantrum like a 3 year old ("Nothing looks good! Everything looks so gross. I don't want to eat anything!")
• Picked up Thai food and was "tricked" into sharing it with clever boyfriend
• Watched The Hills

Tuesday (my 25th birthday)

• Friend Kilali came over
• Ate chocolate macaroon, pear tart and strawberry cake with a bottle of champagne for breakfast
• Watched Who Wants to be a Millionaire and learned my future daytime television lineup
• Went out to eat 2nd breakfast of the world's best pancakes!!
• Saw Wolverine but slept the entire time. (expensive nap for someone who is jobless)
• Got a phone call for an interview. Scheduled interview for Wednesday
• Received FedEx box filled with the remnants of my cubicle (yay Marc Jacobs pen!)
• Went to dinner with boyfriend (who arrived with flowers)
• Began horribly crazy sobfest

Wednesday

• Interview at 10am. Not my best.
• Called mom and had break down... again.
• Played on the computer and cleaned apartment wearing only bra and tights
• Called unemployment office (was on hold for 15 minutes due to high volume of callers--my new friends)
• Called ex-employer HR
• Booked ticket to go to Seattle for the weekend
• Went to ex-employer to return company laptop
• Ate entire box of Kraft macaroni and cheese
• Watched Gossip Girl, America's Next Top Model and The Hills... again.

Thursday

• Made huge bowl of oatmeal
• Dropped off laundry
• Received NY Department of Labor unemployment information packet. I wonder how many of those my mail lady has delivered..
• Going to tackle messy room and gross bathroom

happy birthday, you're now unemployed.

I got to work extra early this morning to start the week off on the right foot. I had a feeling work was going to be bad today. I get there and immediately dive into my Excel sheets. I was so busy focusing on my work that I failed to notice the extra odd work environment. No one in my firm is particularly friendly anyway but no one is talking today at all. oh well. must. get. reports. done. by. 8:30.

I successfully finish my crazy Excel report by 8:34 and feel proud of myself for getting the 9 step report done so quickly and efficiently. I distribute and as a reward I make myself a cup of coffee. I fill in at the reception desk to cover a quick bathroom break and out of the conference room exits one of the other younger girls in the firm. I've never actually talked to her but she always seems nice.

"If you need anything, please call." says the voice of the HR director Joe.

She exits with her bags on her shoulders and doesn't look back. Weird. 8:40 am. She quit?

I head back to my cubicle with a pit in my stomach. My cubiclemate's phone rings.

"Hi Joe. Yeah, I'll be right there.." He leaves the cube. The HR assistant comes to collect his jacket.

My intuition screams We're getting laid off and I'm next!!!! I quickly and frantically delete as many stupid personal emails as I can in 3 minutes. Shit, I have 7 pairs of flats under my desk, a yellow bathmat, my desk drawers are full of sweaters, a hooker-looking skirt, a Danielle Steel book and a Blowpop. I throw it all into a bag and my phone rings with the conference room on the caller ID. I'm a gonner!

I enter the conference room to see the HR directors at the table with a maroon folder in front of them. Both of them looking at me with bloodshot glassy eyes. My shaky hands can barely close the door.

"I don't know if you realize what's happening today, but we are having to downsize the firm and your position is being terminated..."

That's all I was able to comprehend from this talk. Somehow his words were not words anymore, my hands were leaving wet marks on the table, my voice turned semi-manly and hoarse and they wouldn't even let me go back to my desk to pack my own stuff. Before I knew it the HR directors were forcing me to exchange my corporate credit card and key cards for the yellow bathmat and the maroon folder.

I exit the building into the rain not quite sure what emotion to feel. I hated the job but now this is a mess. Unemployment?! ME??? really?? Don't they know tomorrow is my birthday? RUDE!

And to make matters worse I forgot to grab my favorite lipgloss and my Marc Jacobs pen.

Happy Birthday and Happy Unemployment to me!

job requirements: emergency first aid...?

As you read this post, let me first tell you that I work for an investment bank.I mostly work alongside middle aged men; my co-workers are husbands and fathers. For 99% of the workday we sit on our asses at desks where extremely minimal manual labor is required of us. However, it's starting to feel like there are more accidents in my office than I recall from being a nanny and Sunday school teacher. I'm contemplating the potential benefits of keeping bandaids, Bactine, and baby wipes in my desk drawers.

Riptide Rob - late 30s-early 40s, father of one.
One Monday morning in the summer Rob came over to tell my cubicle mates and I how lucky and grateful he was to be alive. He had spent the weekend with his family in the Hamptons and was swimming when he was pulled out really far by a riptide and almost drowned. The lifeguard had to swim out and bring him back to safety on the shore. No one will ever let him live this down and therefore he obtained the office nickname Riptide Rob.

Well, back in February I was walking past the kitchen on my way to the bathroom. I curiously glanced into the kitchen in passing and noticed Rob in the doorway. He was bent over and it looked like he was either spitting or vomiting directly onto the kitchen floor. In a panic I shouted "Are you ok?!" and wondered to myself in a judging kind of way why he didn't puke in the trashcan. He shook his head no that he was not ok and I ran to get some help. Rob ran out of the kitchen and into the mailroom and slammed his stomach on the handle of a handtruck to dislodge whatever was stuck. One of the other guys quickly began the Heimlich and Rob started couching and throwing up whatever he was choking on. Turns out he had choked on a cold cut slice of turkey. Basically I did nothing to help except judge him for choking and not vomiting in the trash can. This was a conversation I had right after:

me: Ahhh someone was choking in my office!

I was the first person to see him and I didn't know what to do

Colleen: omg

did someone give the Heimlich??!! me: It was really gross he was like barfing too

It scared me!

Colleen: o

m

g

that would freak me out too! What was he choking on? And, was he doing the universal sign for choking?

me: He was choking on turkey!

Eww

Colleen: ew

gross

just plain turkey?

not a sandwich?

me: Yeah I think just a slice

Colleen: thats really weird

how could that restrict your airway?

lol

poor guy

me: I have no idea! It was weird

Bottlecap Bailey - 38 years old, father of two
Because of the recession, my company Christmas party consisted of beers, cheese plates and mingling on our trading floor. My cubicle mate made a big scene at the party and left abruptly because somehow he had swallowed the tab to a soda can. He rushed to the ER for x-rays and kept complaining about how horrible this was because he had a family and kids to take care of. Was he thinking he was going to start profusely internal bleeding? This was how he was going to die?? RIP Bottlecap Bailey? He ended up surviving and the doctor said that he either passed the soda can tab or never swallowed it in the first place. He kept his doctor's number close at hand all week in case any sharp stomach pains were to arise.

Bottlecap Bailey also is prone to falling asleep at his desk, often chokes on his food from eating too much too quickly or using too much hot sauce. Again, I usually do nothing to actually help him, except I helped come up with the name Bottlecap Bailey.

Mr. N - 66 years old, father of three.
The CEO of the company. He is well-respected in the industry and for the most part keeps to himself. He doesn't talk much and very rarely flashes a smile. I can probably count single-handedly the number of times he has specifically addressed me by name. (Side note--my firm has the 3rd and 4th floors of our building and has connecting stairs in between the two floors right by the reception desk) Mr. N was coming down the stairs on Tuesday while I was working at the reception desk. I was answering the phones and receiving a delivery when I heard the loud tumbling noise of someone falling down the stairs. On the landing I see a disheveled Mr. N slowly picking himself up. I have NO idea what to do!!! All I manage to do is shyly ask "Are you ok?" The delivery boy hurried over to offer him a helping hand, but Mr. N dismissed it and mumbled with a crooked smile something about having new soles on his shoes. Making noises indicating he was in some pain, he hobbled down the hall back to his office. This is the IM conversation I had right after:

me: Oh shit! Mr. N just fell down some stairs right in front of me!

I am so awkward in situations like this

Colleen: o

m

g

please tell me you were kind and pleasant!

me: I asked if he was ok

Oh man

Colleen: was he ok?

me: Yeah he said he was Colleen: good

This is when I realized I have a problem reacting in emergency situations. I don't know what to do with myself. It is evident in my IM conversations that I don't really take them seriously. Part of me is holding back laughter and another part of me wonders to what degree an accident should be considered serious? I also have a problem because it feels weird to be the youngest person in a professional environment and constantly be in the position of witnessing my superiors choke and fall. I don't recall first aid certification as one of the requirements for my current position, but at the rate things are going, it might be a good idea to brush up on my Heimlich, CPR and emergency situation strategy! Or maybe I could just supply helmets, slings, kneepads, diapers, and neckbraces.

envelope hope

It’s Friday afternoon. Typically this is when I am hyper, giggly and bouncing off the walls due to the hour and a half separating me from weekendom! Today I sit silently in my cubicle with icicles for fingers searching for things to occupy my afternoon. My boss has been out sick since Wednesday and has not communicated more than 5 words with me. (note: he sent out an “I am sick” email on Wednesday, but neglected to include me on that and any other emails he sent to update “us”(—me excluded) on his whereabouts/health). This really pisses me off.

This is my boss who is anal retentive about email manners and technique. I surely will talk about this more on a later post. He has repeatedly reminded me to CC him on every single business related email I send. Being new to cubicle life, I often “forget” to include him, and sometimes don’t feel it’s necessary to flood his inbox with my novice questions. This makes him extremely frustrated. In fact, I am beginning to think this is his passive aggressive lash out, giving me a taste of my own medicine. This man has not said one thing to me about being sick. Word in the cube is he has pneumonia. Somehow my cubicle-mate knows all the details. Stupid suck up.

Because I am feeling an office version of middle child syndrome, I sent him this email:

I’m sorry to hear you’re sick with pneumonia. I hope you feel better soon!
Please don’t hesitate to let me know if there is anything you need me to take
care of here at the office.

Have a good and restful weekend.

That was really nice of me considering not one word has been said to me. Once I pushed the send button, I couldn’t help but obsessively keep checking for his bolded name to appear and the unopened yellow envelope to pop up! When will he reply? What will he say? Does he know I am feeling neglected? Why is this happening?? Almost 2 hours after I sent my I-slightly-care-about-you-and-am-reaching-out email, this appeared:

Can you please handle, thanks
Jim

This came with an attached form I needed to have signed an emailed. No acknowledgement of my kind thoughts and wishes. Rude. Talk about throwing email etiquette out the window.

an ode to Essie and OPI

Like any self indulgent girl, I love manicures. I love the soaking, the cuticle trimming, the hot towel, and the lotioned hand massage. But most of all I love the nail polish colors, especially the names of the colors.

In one of my fantasy jobs, I, with perfectly manicured hands am sitting around a conference room table assigning names to color swatches.

"Meaningless Kiss!" I say to a dark purple plum.
"Cubicle Cutie," I point to the palest, pale pink.
"Cinco de Mayo" I appropriately call to a bright orangey-red.

While this career is only a fantasy, I must confess that nail polish colors do play a big role in my real life. I find enjoyment in selecting my colors to appropriately correlate to the phase of my life at that point.

Since debuting the blog I have been sporting OPI's Brunette on the Internet. When I began dreading my previous job, I alternated Essie's Fed Up and Need a Vacation for several weeks before I quit. Other fingertip frequenters are Essie's Bordeaux for when red wine is vital to survival. Or Essie's Material Girl--pretty self explanatory I think. And Sugar Daddy, because a girl can always hope.

So thanks Essie and OPI for providing all this entertainment right at my fingertips!