Can Can
Hello World,
Happy March! We certainly got our money's worth out of February, that's for sure, and not cheated out of anything by a long shot, including an extra day thrown in for good measure. Only the snowboarders and ski resorts complained about the weather, which set a new standard for the warmest February on record,
averaging over 40 degrees for the month, and seemed a lot warmer, I can tell you that. Which I don't mind saying was just as well, at least for one very unexpected reason, namely that there was what seemed like a lengthy period of no heat at work. This is especially unexpected because my office is in a derelict old building that is so unendurably hot all winter that everyone leaves their windows open and air conditioners running full-time. It was not that long ago, in fact it was in my note from November 11 of last year (you can go right ahead and look it up - I'll wait ..... dum-de-dum-de-dum-de-de-dum ..... ) where we found ourselves in exactly the same situation, although back then, it managed to be even worse:
======================
So it was totally unexpected when the boiler developed a valve problem, and there was literally no heat in the whole building for an entire week, for the first time since I've been there, and to say that it was uncharacteristic for this building would be an understatement of epic proportion. Meanwhile, alert readers may remember that this was the exact same week that the asbestos team dismantled our furnace at home, while the plumbers didn't install the new furnace until the following week, so guess what - there was also no heat at home, during the very same long cold week, and I'm sure it goes without saying, thanks oh so very much not. I said to Bill that you know things are completely upside-down when the warmest place I go all week is church, which has always been so chilly that everyone routinely wears their coats through the whole service, and people cluster around the coffee urn downstairs for warmth.
======================
Well, it seems that two weeks ago, the ancient wheezing boiler blew another valve in a different part of the system, and we were once again, the unhappy denizens of an old drafty building with no heat to be found for love or money, and don't think that we didn't try plenty of both, believe me. From one end to the other, everyone was wearing jackets, and breaking out their illicit space heaters from under their desks, behind the furniture or secreted in closets. One of the thundering herd of consultants brought in his own heater from home, and promptly blew the fuse along the whole hallway on our floor, plunging us all into darkness besides being cold, and snuffing out all of our clattering office equipment at a stroke. (In fact, I was using the network multi-function device down the hall when it happened, so it was just as well that I wasn't making copies of my butt or boobs at the time, like they do in the movies - or it would have been highly embarrassing when the electrician trotted over to set things right, I can tell you that.) Luckily for us, it was so unseasonably warm in the month, so it wasn't like November when it was frigid inside and out, and that did help a bit. In fact, one day was 60 degrees and sunny - although 60 degrees in your office is still pretty darned chilly if you're sitting at your desk doing payroll reports - and outside we could all hear the unmistakable sounds of the ice cream truck, which I thought was just adding insult to injury, and thanks so very much not.
Speaking of treats, it was during this week that the Accounting manager celebrated her birthday, and we were all invited to shuffle down the hallway in our long-johns and wool scarves, and gather in one of their offices to sing around the birthday cake while she blew out the candles - although I don't mind saying, there was a very vocal contingent in favor of leaving them burning for the heat, and it was hard to vote against their unassailable logic. Ironically, this turned out to be an ice cream cake, which I'm sure seemed like a good idea when they first came up with this plan, but was a decidedly unappealing choice at the time of the occasion, I can tell you that, and even among the dessert's staunchest adherents - of which I am one of the very staunchest - it was a hard sell to the shivering staff huddled in their winter coats and fuzzy boots. In the end, it was a long ten days of "the big chill," only this time, the return of the heat was greeted with a more muted mixture of relief and foreboding of when this very same thing might happen all over again. I can tell you that someone showing up and selling Snuggies door-to-door would do a land-office business in the place at this point.
On a related retail topic, I am reminded of some bulky holiday presents that I had ordered, and stayed home from work at the end of last year to get deliveries of them, on the chance that their outer boxes would reveal the contents for all the world to see, and thus ruin the surprise for the giftee on Christmas morning. One of the items I was expecting was a very large metal trash can (you know you've been married a long time when this type of thing is considered not only a perfectly reasonable gift, but in fact, a rather desirable one) and I kept checking the windows for any trucks showing up that might be likely to drop it off. At one point, a delivery truck did pull into the driveway, and the peppy young driver hopped out and ran up the steps two at a time, then handed me a tiny box, which I signed for without enthusiasm, as I explained what I was really waiting for. "You have to get up pretty early in the morning to put anything over on me," I told him flatly, "I could tell right away that was no trash can, by golly." He accepted this rebuke with good grace, and assured me he would have brought the trash can if he had it. I suppose the good news was that the trash can surprise was not spoiled after all, since it wasn't actually delivered for more than a week after the ho-ho-holiday, long after the element of surprise had been forged into the alloy of indifference, and I ought to know.
Speaking of surprises, one of our cats was having problems with his teeth, and a trip to the veterinarian was in order, which he endured with a sense of stoic resignation that is his trademark. As part of his treatment plan, they gave us an anti-biotic liquid for RaggMopp, with instructions to squirt it into his mouth twice a day, to help clear up some of the infection that had sprung up. We thanked them and went on our way, with our medicine in hand, and planned to fight the good fight against marauding germs on the home front. I don't know what we paid for that small bottle of drugs, but I do know that I ended up getting more of it on me than in him, that's for sure. I have the feeling this war on germs would only have worked if the germs had jumped out of his mouth and onto my hands, which is where most of the anti-biotic liquid ended up, twice a day on a regular basis. Of course, if I could have gotten the germs to jump out of his mouth, I wouldn't have needed the anti-biotic in the first place, and frankly, this is a direction that I think modern medicine should pursue with greater diligence. In fact, I already have a giant trash can that they could jump right into, and that's not just the frostbite talking, believe me.
Elle
Happy March! We certainly got our money's worth out of February, that's for sure, and not cheated out of anything by a long shot, including an extra day thrown in for good measure. Only the snowboarders and ski resorts complained about the weather, which set a new standard for the warmest February on record,
averaging over 40 degrees for the month, and seemed a lot warmer, I can tell you that. Which I don't mind saying was just as well, at least for one very unexpected reason, namely that there was what seemed like a lengthy period of no heat at work. This is especially unexpected because my office is in a derelict old building that is so unendurably hot all winter that everyone leaves their windows open and air conditioners running full-time. It was not that long ago, in fact it was in my note from November 11 of last year (you can go right ahead and look it up - I'll wait ..... dum-de-dum-de-dum-de-de-dum ..... ) where we found ourselves in exactly the same situation, although back then, it managed to be even worse:
======================
So it was totally unexpected when the boiler developed a valve problem, and there was literally no heat in the whole building for an entire week, for the first time since I've been there, and to say that it was uncharacteristic for this building would be an understatement of epic proportion. Meanwhile, alert readers may remember that this was the exact same week that the asbestos team dismantled our furnace at home, while the plumbers didn't install the new furnace until the following week, so guess what - there was also no heat at home, during the very same long cold week, and I'm sure it goes without saying, thanks oh so very much not. I said to Bill that you know things are completely upside-down when the warmest place I go all week is church, which has always been so chilly that everyone routinely wears their coats through the whole service, and people cluster around the coffee urn downstairs for warmth.
======================
Well, it seems that two weeks ago, the ancient wheezing boiler blew another valve in a different part of the system, and we were once again, the unhappy denizens of an old drafty building with no heat to be found for love or money, and don't think that we didn't try plenty of both, believe me. From one end to the other, everyone was wearing jackets, and breaking out their illicit space heaters from under their desks, behind the furniture or secreted in closets. One of the thundering herd of consultants brought in his own heater from home, and promptly blew the fuse along the whole hallway on our floor, plunging us all into darkness besides being cold, and snuffing out all of our clattering office equipment at a stroke. (In fact, I was using the network multi-function device down the hall when it happened, so it was just as well that I wasn't making copies of my butt or boobs at the time, like they do in the movies - or it would have been highly embarrassing when the electrician trotted over to set things right, I can tell you that.) Luckily for us, it was so unseasonably warm in the month, so it wasn't like November when it was frigid inside and out, and that did help a bit. In fact, one day was 60 degrees and sunny - although 60 degrees in your office is still pretty darned chilly if you're sitting at your desk doing payroll reports - and outside we could all hear the unmistakable sounds of the ice cream truck, which I thought was just adding insult to injury, and thanks so very much not.
Speaking of treats, it was during this week that the Accounting manager celebrated her birthday, and we were all invited to shuffle down the hallway in our long-johns and wool scarves, and gather in one of their offices to sing around the birthday cake while she blew out the candles - although I don't mind saying, there was a very vocal contingent in favor of leaving them burning for the heat, and it was hard to vote against their unassailable logic. Ironically, this turned out to be an ice cream cake, which I'm sure seemed like a good idea when they first came up with this plan, but was a decidedly unappealing choice at the time of the occasion, I can tell you that, and even among the dessert's staunchest adherents - of which I am one of the very staunchest - it was a hard sell to the shivering staff huddled in their winter coats and fuzzy boots. In the end, it was a long ten days of "the big chill," only this time, the return of the heat was greeted with a more muted mixture of relief and foreboding of when this very same thing might happen all over again. I can tell you that someone showing up and selling Snuggies door-to-door would do a land-office business in the place at this point.
On a related retail topic, I am reminded of some bulky holiday presents that I had ordered, and stayed home from work at the end of last year to get deliveries of them, on the chance that their outer boxes would reveal the contents for all the world to see, and thus ruin the surprise for the giftee on Christmas morning. One of the items I was expecting was a very large metal trash can (you know you've been married a long time when this type of thing is considered not only a perfectly reasonable gift, but in fact, a rather desirable one) and I kept checking the windows for any trucks showing up that might be likely to drop it off. At one point, a delivery truck did pull into the driveway, and the peppy young driver hopped out and ran up the steps two at a time, then handed me a tiny box, which I signed for without enthusiasm, as I explained what I was really waiting for. "You have to get up pretty early in the morning to put anything over on me," I told him flatly, "I could tell right away that was no trash can, by golly." He accepted this rebuke with good grace, and assured me he would have brought the trash can if he had it. I suppose the good news was that the trash can surprise was not spoiled after all, since it wasn't actually delivered for more than a week after the ho-ho-holiday, long after the element of surprise had been forged into the alloy of indifference, and I ought to know.
Speaking of surprises, one of our cats was having problems with his teeth, and a trip to the veterinarian was in order, which he endured with a sense of stoic resignation that is his trademark. As part of his treatment plan, they gave us an anti-biotic liquid for RaggMopp, with instructions to squirt it into his mouth twice a day, to help clear up some of the infection that had sprung up. We thanked them and went on our way, with our medicine in hand, and planned to fight the good fight against marauding germs on the home front. I don't know what we paid for that small bottle of drugs, but I do know that I ended up getting more of it on me than in him, that's for sure. I have the feeling this war on germs would only have worked if the germs had jumped out of his mouth and onto my hands, which is where most of the anti-biotic liquid ended up, twice a day on a regular basis. Of course, if I could have gotten the germs to jump out of his mouth, I wouldn't have needed the anti-biotic in the first place, and frankly, this is a direction that I think modern medicine should pursue with greater diligence. In fact, I already have a giant trash can that they could jump right into, and that's not just the frostbite talking, believe me.
Elle
posted by El Tango Fandango @ 9:59 PM
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