Lamb Chop
Hello World,
Isn't it amazing how it seems like you just about finish packing away the Christmas decorations for another year, and the next thing you know, you look up and suddenly the stores are full of sale merchandise for Cinco de Mayo already. Well, somehow that couldn't be exactly what I meant, but you understand my point, and that is that the year is flying by at an alarming rate. A scant few weeks ago, when it was cold, we were being charmed at the sight of jonquils, blue squill and early tulips, so welcome after a long winter. Yesterday, it was 80 degrees, and our whole yard exploded in waves of violets and dandelions. Yes, dandelions! I ask you, is this any way to run a climate? I think not!
I was reminded of Christmas decorations recently when we were faced with the hypothetical return of our injured co-worker, who only seems to have been on a six-month holiday, but actually has been out on disability with a boo-boo since before Christmas. Of course, we've heard of her hypothetical return so many times before, and somehow she never actually materializes, so we've tended to grow increasingly cynical about the likelihood of these pronouncements as they've come along successively. In fact, my original choice of Bastille Day in the office pool, far from being a laughable exaggeration, is starting to look like a stroke of genius. In any case, I have steadfastly refused to give up our temp based on these hypothetical reports of imminent return, and so the possibility does exist, however remote, that we may find ourselves with two people trying to occupy the same space at the same time. I asked our temp, if that does happen, to please move her belongings into the spare office and do her paperwork in there until we get it all sorted out, and make sure the errant co-worker is back to stay for good and not just hypothetically. It only occurred to me later that there's no place for the young lady to put her coat and bags and other items, since what is now the spare office is in reality my old office, which has the Christmas tree still decorated in the closet. (You know I can't wait to have that conversation and try to explain that to anyone at this point in the year!) I have no place else for the tree, which has spent more time on the move since Christmas, than a high-pressure salesman trying to earn frequent flyer miles. So things might get a little cramped next week, not to mention surreal, with the juxtaposition of the old and the new, the incoming and the outgoing, the spirit of Christmas past and the spirit of Christmas still with us, fa la la la la la la la la. Should be interesting times ahead, I'm thinking.
Speaking of my old office, not that I care to, I don't mind saying that I'm sick and tired of that place and disgusted with it to boot, and so mad at it that I just can't see straight. Honestly, ever since that fateful day that I moved out of there with my coat-tails flying behind me and said that I could not spend one more minute in that horrible place where it was always too hot, since that very moment, that office has not been the slightest bit hot by any means at any time in any way. Now when people come looking for me from another department, and they find that I'm in a different office, and a much nicer one besides, and I tell them that I had to move because my old office was too hot, you can tell that they're just humoring me by nodding and smiling, because what they're really thinking is that I'm obviously some sort of office-grabbing lunatic on a crazed power trip fueled by delusions of grandeur. And meanwhile, my old office just sits there, nice and cool and innocent-looking, with this smug and complacent look on its foul and two-faced smelly old self, looking for all the world like the wounded victim of some unfair smear campaign, instead of the wretched architect behind this whole steamy imbroglio to start with. Oh, it's not fooling me one bit, no sir, and I don't mind saying that I am flat-out disgusted with it, and that is just the plain truth of the matter right there.
While we're on the topic of steamy things, I came across this fashionable item in a catalog from our friends at Willow Ridge (and feel free to visit their website at www.willowridgecatalog.com) which appears to be a floor-length black sun-dress with a lattice decoration in the back and no sleeves. I find this a curious combination of elements in one dress, because in hot sunshine, I can't see any appeal in wearing a long black dress, while at the same time, being sleeveless and open in the back makes it unsuitable for cooler conditions. Rather than being a season-spanning classic of timeless functionality, it instead has a season-less impracticality that has me totally stumped. Sort of like a fleece swimsuit or a gauze parka, it simply doesn't make any sense to me at all.
No discussion of the weather would be complete without mentioning Easter, and if you happened to see any of the justly famous Easter Parade on TV, you know what kind of a beautiful day we had in these parts. It was sunny and balmy, which you certainly can't count on in April around here, and we were glad to get out and enjoy it. Our trip to Long Island was uneventful, and we had a lovely day at Mom's with all the trimmings, plus dinner at the diner for good measure. To top it all off, there was a bakery cake shaped like an adorable woolly lamb, complete with bow-tie, jelly beans, and plastic decorations of bunnies and eggs. It was almost too cute to eat, but somehow we managed to do just that. It was a wonderful holiday and a fine time was had by all, and I have the pictures to prove it. I have a new pink knit dress that I wore for the occasion (which is actually a long-sleeve nightshirt, but don't tell anyone) on the theory that it would match my Easter Bunny sunglasses (and I have the pictures to prove that, too!) and over the course of the day, managed to spill something from every single meal somewhere on it, from the lace-trimmed neckline to the hem to the sleeves and everywhere in between. I've obviously moved past the point where a bib would help me, and I need to wear something that is entirely made out of a plastic tablecloth, so I can just hose myself off afterwards.
When we were coming back home, we turned on the radio to listen for signs of any traffic problems, and heard a commercial for a revolutionary plastic patio deck, that they assured us is held together with invisible fasteners. "No, it's not!" I retorted with effrontery. Bill wondered how you could tell if it was assembled correctly, if the fasteners were indeed invisible. I said, what would you do if you dropped the box of them, you'd never be able to find them. And Bill pointed out that the manufacturer could send you a limitless supply of replacement fasteners in empty boxes, without fear of complaints. We had a good laugh about that, but actually, it's pathetic the depths to which the language has sunk, and the scary part is, it hasn't hit bottom yet. Invisible fasteners, indeed.
When I shared the story of our Payroll department directing people to our conference room by mistake, I heard back from a colleague at another hospital, who wrote:
=================================
Ah yes....the ole huntin' down the paycheck routine. I know it well. Around here, they don't even bother to tell you that the paychecks can be picked up in a different location than usual. First we go to the payroll clerk's office, and when we find it locked up, we just wander around trying to sniff it out. Talking about having a nose for money!! Most of the time we can find our checks in the admissions office, but the newcomers wouldn't know that....poor souls. A little sign up at the Payroll Office indicating where we can go to find our earnings would be a nice gesture.
=================================
So it appears that this is more of a problem than you would expect, considering that there is a whole department solely for this purpose, and you would think that at least on payday, they would make the staff in that department stay put, and serve the very purpose for them being there in the first place, but apparently not. Of course, I have a long-standing policy against using logic with irrational people, but even I find this inexplicable. On the other hand, I have a fully decorated Christmas tree in a closet at half-past April, so this smacks a little too much of the pot calling the kettle black, and then some. Black sun-dresses, that is, with invisible fasteners. If you don't believe me, I'll be happy to send you a box of them.
Isn't it amazing how it seems like you just about finish packing away the Christmas decorations for another year, and the next thing you know, you look up and suddenly the stores are full of sale merchandise for Cinco de Mayo already. Well, somehow that couldn't be exactly what I meant, but you understand my point, and that is that the year is flying by at an alarming rate. A scant few weeks ago, when it was cold, we were being charmed at the sight of jonquils, blue squill and early tulips, so welcome after a long winter. Yesterday, it was 80 degrees, and our whole yard exploded in waves of violets and dandelions. Yes, dandelions! I ask you, is this any way to run a climate? I think not!
I was reminded of Christmas decorations recently when we were faced with the hypothetical return of our injured co-worker, who only seems to have been on a six-month holiday, but actually has been out on disability with a boo-boo since before Christmas. Of course, we've heard of her hypothetical return so many times before, and somehow she never actually materializes, so we've tended to grow increasingly cynical about the likelihood of these pronouncements as they've come along successively. In fact, my original choice of Bastille Day in the office pool, far from being a laughable exaggeration, is starting to look like a stroke of genius. In any case, I have steadfastly refused to give up our temp based on these hypothetical reports of imminent return, and so the possibility does exist, however remote, that we may find ourselves with two people trying to occupy the same space at the same time. I asked our temp, if that does happen, to please move her belongings into the spare office and do her paperwork in there until we get it all sorted out, and make sure the errant co-worker is back to stay for good and not just hypothetically. It only occurred to me later that there's no place for the young lady to put her coat and bags and other items, since what is now the spare office is in reality my old office, which has the Christmas tree still decorated in the closet. (You know I can't wait to have that conversation and try to explain that to anyone at this point in the year!) I have no place else for the tree, which has spent more time on the move since Christmas, than a high-pressure salesman trying to earn frequent flyer miles. So things might get a little cramped next week, not to mention surreal, with the juxtaposition of the old and the new, the incoming and the outgoing, the spirit of Christmas past and the spirit of Christmas still with us, fa la la la la la la la la. Should be interesting times ahead, I'm thinking.
Speaking of my old office, not that I care to, I don't mind saying that I'm sick and tired of that place and disgusted with it to boot, and so mad at it that I just can't see straight. Honestly, ever since that fateful day that I moved out of there with my coat-tails flying behind me and said that I could not spend one more minute in that horrible place where it was always too hot, since that very moment, that office has not been the slightest bit hot by any means at any time in any way. Now when people come looking for me from another department, and they find that I'm in a different office, and a much nicer one besides, and I tell them that I had to move because my old office was too hot, you can tell that they're just humoring me by nodding and smiling, because what they're really thinking is that I'm obviously some sort of office-grabbing lunatic on a crazed power trip fueled by delusions of grandeur. And meanwhile, my old office just sits there, nice and cool and innocent-looking, with this smug and complacent look on its foul and two-faced smelly old self, looking for all the world like the wounded victim of some unfair smear campaign, instead of the wretched architect behind this whole steamy imbroglio to start with. Oh, it's not fooling me one bit, no sir, and I don't mind saying that I am flat-out disgusted with it, and that is just the plain truth of the matter right there.
While we're on the topic of steamy things, I came across this fashionable item in a catalog from our friends at Willow Ridge (and feel free to visit their website at www.willowridgecatalog.com) which appears to be a floor-length black sun-dress with a lattice decoration in the back and no sleeves. I find this a curious combination of elements in one dress, because in hot sunshine, I can't see any appeal in wearing a long black dress, while at the same time, being sleeveless and open in the back makes it unsuitable for cooler conditions. Rather than being a season-spanning classic of timeless functionality, it instead has a season-less impracticality that has me totally stumped. Sort of like a fleece swimsuit or a gauze parka, it simply doesn't make any sense to me at all.
No discussion of the weather would be complete without mentioning Easter, and if you happened to see any of the justly famous Easter Parade on TV, you know what kind of a beautiful day we had in these parts. It was sunny and balmy, which you certainly can't count on in April around here, and we were glad to get out and enjoy it. Our trip to Long Island was uneventful, and we had a lovely day at Mom's with all the trimmings, plus dinner at the diner for good measure. To top it all off, there was a bakery cake shaped like an adorable woolly lamb, complete with bow-tie, jelly beans, and plastic decorations of bunnies and eggs. It was almost too cute to eat, but somehow we managed to do just that. It was a wonderful holiday and a fine time was had by all, and I have the pictures to prove it. I have a new pink knit dress that I wore for the occasion (which is actually a long-sleeve nightshirt, but don't tell anyone) on the theory that it would match my Easter Bunny sunglasses (and I have the pictures to prove that, too!) and over the course of the day, managed to spill something from every single meal somewhere on it, from the lace-trimmed neckline to the hem to the sleeves and everywhere in between. I've obviously moved past the point where a bib would help me, and I need to wear something that is entirely made out of a plastic tablecloth, so I can just hose myself off afterwards.
When we were coming back home, we turned on the radio to listen for signs of any traffic problems, and heard a commercial for a revolutionary plastic patio deck, that they assured us is held together with invisible fasteners. "No, it's not!" I retorted with effrontery. Bill wondered how you could tell if it was assembled correctly, if the fasteners were indeed invisible. I said, what would you do if you dropped the box of them, you'd never be able to find them. And Bill pointed out that the manufacturer could send you a limitless supply of replacement fasteners in empty boxes, without fear of complaints. We had a good laugh about that, but actually, it's pathetic the depths to which the language has sunk, and the scary part is, it hasn't hit bottom yet. Invisible fasteners, indeed.
When I shared the story of our Payroll department directing people to our conference room by mistake, I heard back from a colleague at another hospital, who wrote:
=================================
Ah yes....the ole huntin' down the paycheck routine. I know it well. Around here, they don't even bother to tell you that the paychecks can be picked up in a different location than usual. First we go to the payroll clerk's office, and when we find it locked up, we just wander around trying to sniff it out. Talking about having a nose for money!! Most of the time we can find our checks in the admissions office, but the newcomers wouldn't know that....poor souls. A little sign up at the Payroll Office indicating where we can go to find our earnings would be a nice gesture.
=================================
So it appears that this is more of a problem than you would expect, considering that there is a whole department solely for this purpose, and you would think that at least on payday, they would make the staff in that department stay put, and serve the very purpose for them being there in the first place, but apparently not. Of course, I have a long-standing policy against using logic with irrational people, but even I find this inexplicable. On the other hand, I have a fully decorated Christmas tree in a closet at half-past April, so this smacks a little too much of the pot calling the kettle black, and then some. Black sun-dresses, that is, with invisible fasteners. If you don't believe me, I'll be happy to send you a box of them.
posted by El Tango Fandango @ 12:13 PM
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