You are currently browsing the monthly archive for July 2006.
I always think of ‘Flight of the BumbleBee’ whenever I go grocery shopping. I hadn’t really shopped on a weekly basis for a long time and just recently started back up. (Story too boring to tell here). I find that I enjoy assembling things like diners, casseroles, and baking goodies. Who or what I’m feeding in such quantities, is still to be determined.
Things have changed. For most people, its probably not even noticeable. But hey, recipes 7 years old don’t have the same sizes. Canned goods have gotten bigger while meat cuts have gotten smaller. Try finding some of the ‘quick-n-easy’ pre-packaged stuff and it’s long gone. Guess it didn’t make it through consumer approval or something. I’ve been adjusting recipes like crazy. I tend to plod like a small tanker through the waters of the grocery store aisles while Power Moms flit around me like over excited ski jets. It looks like one of those commercials where the person stands still and the camera uses its trickery to make everyone one else fly around in hyperactivity. I often wonder, while slowly plodding along, what it would be like to make my selections competently and quickly. Aggressively barging my way up to the meat counter, commanding the help this way and that, barking quantities and types. My little mouse voice makes them lean over the counter to call me ‘dearie’ and question everything I say.
I tend to use the old, “I-have-no-idea-what-the-heck-I’m-doing” look a lot in grocery stores. I ask the butcher for help by telling him what I’m cooking and how. He gently asks a few questions and hands me what he thinks I need. If it fails at home, I could always blame the butcher.
Well back to pouring over recipes and not lifting the crockpot lid.
Ciao
The office is alive with whispers. People at every corner of the cube farm discussing the latest buzz. We get to work from home! You have to understand that my company is not an IT company. They believe in face-to-face interactions. People not in the office are no longer necessary. But the new CIO, decided that this should be an option and now.
The kicker is that you loose your cube and you have to work out of the office at least 3 days. They are still working out details like what they will pay for and what happens to your office phone, mail, supplies, timecards, expense reports, and all that jazz.
You can imagine the office is quite in a twitter. I’m okay working from home. But I find I’m one of those people that needs interaction, drive-bys, and just noise of humanity to work. I get a little too paranoid when left to my own self. I also don’t seem to know when to stop working. And darnit the laundry fits right into my schedule. Run something on a server and change a load from the washer to dryer.
Some managers won’t even admit there is the possibility. Others tell their people horror stories and then ask. My boss just forgot and then said he needed a decision yesterday. But I finally have my window seat! But if I worked from home, I could have my window seat and not have to get dressed till noon. And have a door to close… tempting tempting…
Ciao
Well the weekend was over too soon. Would have been a better one if I hadn’t been shot out of bed, waking up standing, talking on my cell phone. I have got to change that ringer. What started out as a funny to myself is incredibly annoying in the wee hours of the morn.
4:30 am in the f’in morning is no time for beast or man. Especially being asked technical questions on a bridge call. My nice gene must have still been in bed, cause I was having none of the ‘sooth the enduser’ crap I usually spout. I distinctly remember a moment of silence after a very simple blunt (still polite) explanation came rolling out of my mouth.
Well here it is Monday and no pink slip, no thank you, but all working systems.
Attempted to see if my leather purse could hold water. It does. About two inches worth and never sprang a leak. Thanks to the interrupted sleep yesterday, I overslept, missed the recycling guys and somehow had a bottle of water poured into my purse.
Good Morning, Monday.
ciao
It’s raining again. Pouring to be exact. It’s funny how fast the weather changes around here. Every day I come home to blinking clocks, blinking lights, and my wireless has yet again, reset itself.While searching through a pile of recipes, I came across a collection of my SO’s grandmother’s recipes. Stuffed in a little dingy yellow 3″x5″ card box, was a vast assortment of hand written recipes. I’ve started posting them over on another blog. The jello fascination, the vanilla instant pudding craze, and the down-right strange ‘canned corned beef’ recipes are fascinating in a deer-in-the-headlights kinda way.I hate when I misplace something. I become very obsessive. I’ve spent the last 2 1/2 days opening up every box, bag, and desk drawer in hopes of finding my house pics. I know I put them on cds. But I’ll be darned if I could find them. I’ve searched the same places over and over again. I once heard the definition of insanity, was doing something over and over again but expecting the results to change. Somehow if I continued to look in the same drawer, room, box, etc, it would magically appear there. Maybe next time or the next….
I searched the garage, knowing that the only things left are the things you need once and are afraid you might need again.
(Damn its raining harder…)
I searched the basement. Fought off a few spiders. Even resurrected an old PC. No such luck. Self-doubt crept in and I was beginning to feel crazy, like I was just kidding myself. I searched the kitchen. Like I would keep computer stuff in amongst the pots and pans. I pulled down boxes in closets. Even looked in the broom closet. I decided no more searching.
As I was eating dinner, I noticed a stack of boxes that I just knew didn’t contain anything but guitar pins, baseball stuff, and socks. But wouldn’t you know it, there they were. Four cds packed with my house pictures. I felt like crying.
(Damn, I might be floating out of here soon)
Ciao
Thoughts of an Old Fart 