Watercooler Adventures

Yesterday was a triumphant day for women everywhere. I changed the watercooler all by myself. It all started when I came in and made myself a cup of tea. I used almost all of the water. I thought this was very clever and that my boss would notice it was almost empty and change the tank. Unfortunately, this did not happen. Apparently my boss is a camel and drinks nothing all day. I, on the other hand, try to drink as much water throughout the day as humanly possible. I waited until lunchtime when I was nearly dehydrated. My boss left to go to lunch, and I decided to take a stand for feminism. My thinking was that if I spilled water all over myself and the office that it would have time to dry before he returned from lunch. I'm proud to report that I hardly spilled any, although changing it was super awkward, mainly because our cooler is up a little too high for someone who has recently quit working out.

In case you would like to properly change a watercooler, you can check out this article. Note, this is not how I did it. My method included stabbing it with a pen. I'm a maverick.

At least I didn't end up like Tobias or Liz Lemon.

The day my boss bought lunch

So this project that I'm working on is becoming more brutal by the day. The end of it is drawing closer, but it is sadly becoming more complex and my boss is becoming increasingly frustrated with things beyond our mortal control. As a result, I went in to work today, even though I have been taking Fridays off to work on prepping for teaching. My co-worker and I made a pact that we would leave no later than 2pm. Otherwise, we both knew we would be stuck there until midnight. Our pact worked surprisingly well, even though the boss threw a bit of a tantrum over us not being done yet.

The bright side of the day was that he offered to order Jimmy Johns. Not the most exciting lunch choice, but he paid, which is always a high point. The funny part was that my boss is a super Catholic and made a big deal about ordering the tuna sandwich. For whatever reason, I suddenly felt compelled/pressured to act like I was a devout Catholic. Maybe I was subconsciously trying to make him like me more? Maybe I'm finally becoming more proactive about potentially going to hell for eating meat on Fridays? Maybe tuna just sounded good? No, that can't be right. Every time I eat tuna salad, I'm consistently let down that it isn't chicken salad. I make some bomb chicken salad.

Speaking of bombs, I feel compelled to tell you all about a new TV show that I "discovered". (Fact- I discover great television shows). It's called Bomb Girls and airs on some channel in Canada, but you can watch the first season on Netflix. It is kind of like Downton Abbey in that it is a period drama that is centered around women working in a bomb factory in Canada during World War II. It is as compelling as Downton Abbey, but with even better with plot twists that involve lesbians, industrial accidents, abortions, Italian prison camps, and fireworks. Can you imagine?! Fireworks!

Anyways, feel free to check out the trailer and thank me later after you marathon the whole series with your cat.

My big sick weekend

So I was sick from Thursday last week and still don't feel 100% today. It was brutal. The lame part is that I didn't really get to miss any work and still had to grade assignment for my students. I realized that being sick is a lot like being unemployed.

1. You lay on the couch and watch a lot of Netflix. Seriously. It's debatable when I was able to watch more Netflix, unemployed vs. sick.
2. You lose a ton of weight. Instead of from depression though, it's from throwing up and being physically unable to manage to make yourself anything but toast or soup.
3. Everyone asks you if you're ok. Well, people who care about you anyway.
4. You don't have the energy to shower or put real clothes on.
5. But on the bright side, have a rocking hair day when you do finally shower.
6. Your apartment turns into a disgusting pit of despair.
7. You can't sleep at night. But this time it is because you are coughing/throwing up instead of just being depressed and anxious.
8. Your cat feels sorry for you. This is actually a perk to being sick. Unemployment did not gain my any sympathy from my cat, but she definitely felt bad that I was sick and even kept me company.
9. You can't wait to return to the real world and feel like a human being again.
10. You're at home, not making any money. The joys of being an hourly employee.

Throwback Thursday!

As I previously noted, I used to have a Xanga. It was a cool thing to have in college. Well, cool for people who weren't cool enough to have a Live Journal. At any rate, I was recently skimming through the entries, and came across this little gem. I feel like it fits in well with my current employment journey, and continues to be a warning for what may come in the future. Enjoy!

Thursday, January 06, 2005

• What is it about Dairy Queen?

Dairy Queen was my first job. Fast forward six years or so and it is now my current job. We definitely have a love-hate relationship with one another. So this is how I formed my theory which I have held for awhile now, but don't like to share with people...

Dairy Queen is like the boyfriend who beats you.

You first met when you were a young naive teenager. You thought he was the coolest and wanted to be near him. You try way too hard and finally land your dream role. You are so entralled with him. You can't wait to see him and he seems so wonderful. In reality, he's a little on the ghetto side and not the brightest crayon in the box. Or the sharpest. Or the prettiest. At first he's nice to you but he then starts to walk all over you. You would do anything for him, ditch your social life, come in early, leave late, nights, weekends, your summer vacation is spent with him. You don't notice at first but he's already suckered you in. Your friends start to notice little things. "You've been there how long and still only make $6 an hour?" "You don't even get free ice cream?" "You really had to clean up urine out of a trashcan?" "Oh, you still work THERE?" You begin to think maybe they're right. You can do better. There are other options. Bigger and better, more money, more freedom, more autonomy, less mess. But you feel you owe him. Afterall, he picked you with no experience, no talent, no nothing and took you in and gave you a chance. He begins to sense you're unhappy and starts making you promises he won't keep. "Baby, I'm giving you a raise." "I'll give you money for college if you stick with me." "I'll promote you so you have more responsibility." "I'll give you your own set of keys." Before you know it, years have passed and you are still miserable but still afraid to leave. He's safe, familiar, you're constant in a crazy upside down world. Finally one day you decide you have had enough and you plan to make your escape. You drop the bomb on him and feel guilty. You make excuses, you know, graduating high school, you need a change. It's nothing personal. It's not you it's me. He tried to be the bigger person and says he understands. In the end he doesn't even say goodbye to your face, no going away party, four years and not even a handshake. As you leave you tell yourself you're doing the right thing. You turn and look back and he has a smirk on his face. He knows you'll be back

And eventually you do go back. Why? Because deep down you do love him. He may be absusive and treat you like crap and walk all over you, but you can't help yourself. He's been with you through good times and bad. He's watched you grow and become the person you want to be. He's always been there and works with you when you need him to. You learn things from him you can't learn from anyone else and he learns things from you. And every once and a while, he'll do something really nice and unexpected that makes you so happy to be associated with him. Call it love, call it insanity, all you know is that no matter what happens or what he does, you'll always have a special soft spot in your heart reserved for him. And no matter how hard you try to leave him, you'll always come back to him.

Workin' at the Dairy Queen, the DQ.  I just can't stay away from you.

Dealing with difficult people

Conversation between me and my co-worker after both of us got yelled at by the boss.

CW: You don't really get upset over things. I wish I could be more like you. You're just so calm and collected all of the time.
ME: It's because I'm emotionally dead inside.
CW: ::laughs nervously::: Oh...

Honestly, I credit graduate school with both crushing my soul and simultaneously making me indifferent to difficult people (or most people). It turns out to be a curse much of the time, but a gift in the workplace whenever I seem to need it.

Sorry that's a lame update. In other news, I think I've caught a nasty bug, even after gloating to my doctor recently that I never get sick. Living alone and being sick is the worst. Over the next few days, my apartment will turn into a gross mess, and I will likely lose 10 pounds from not having energy to make myself food. If you don't hear from me, please check in to make sure my cat hasn't eaten me.

I assume she'll invite some friends over.

Teaching is Exhausting

For those of you who don't know (like I have strangers reading this blog anyways), I am teaching a five-week, super accelerated, advanced graduate statistics course. It is brutal. I come home from Saturday after talking for four hours and can't decide if I want to sleep, take a shower, or get wicked drunk. I'd like to do all four, but just can't decide on the order.

Teaching is exhausting and I have a ton of respect for people who do it regularly and do it well. I think the primary reason that my situation is so exhausting is the amount of mental energy and preparation that goes into every week. I can't even prep everything in advance, because I never know how much time I will have to spend on stuff. Today I spent 30 minutes walking them through a hand calculation because they kept asking questions.

The second exhausting factor is that these are grad students. For those of you who have never met a grad student, they are truly insane people. Most of them are super Type A, high strung, and neurotic. Grad students are used to succeeding at things, so when they are faced with a challenging class like this one, they literally lose their shit if things don't make sense the first time you go over something. I just want to shake them and tell them to calm down and trust that it will eventually click.

Or bring a flask to class.

Spoonless Thursday

Sorry to disappoint my loyal readers with my lack of an update. The truth is, things have been crazy busy this week. The class that I am teaching on Saturdays takes A LOT of preparation. Also, going drinking on a Wednesday night hasn't helped my productivity. I should have more material next week, as we have a meeting with a potential client. I'm excited to dress up like a grownup, wearing jeans to work everyday is kind of overrated.

Today I forgot to bring a spoon to eat my yogurt with. I found several metal spoons in a cupboard in the office that looked like they were recovered from an archeological dig. I debated going downstairs to the Starbucks to steal a spoon, but was worried that I would be tempted into buying a giant cookie. Instead, I attempted to drink my yogurt, much to the amusement of my co-worker. Hopefully that was the embarrassment I needed to invest in a box of spoons.Or forks.

Teeth Falling Out

Remember the time I talked about my creepy dream where my teeth are falling out? I watched a movie on Netflix this evening called The Giant Mechanical Man. There was a super creepy scene where Jenna Fischer has the same dream (thanks to the magic of CGI it is very vivid). There is also a philosophical discussion on the meaning of it. I couldn't find the scene online, but the trailer is below if you want to check it out.