I should really get going...

But what would my morning be without a little procrastination, hmm?

Actually slept reasonably well last night, and am going to attempt to go to bed at a reasonable hour each night. Easier said than done, knowing me, but a girl can hope, right?

Will be finding out today if I'm still suspended from work on Wednesday (oh, woe is me! *backofhandtoforehead*), in which case I get to play in curtana's D&D game. w00t! Otherwise I get to be a good little corporate drone and work all day.

There *are* upsides to this working the late shift business: I don't have to get up as early, I can actually go to places that are only open during banking hours (like banks), and I can have breakfast with my parents if I want. I'm also never late for work. I am a fan of leisurely mornings.

On the down side, it means I have no social life except on weekends, and I have to learn the parking signs out front my heart unless I want to pay $42 a day in parking tickets. It also means I can't really sleep in except on Monday and Thursday mornings, because of the aforementioned parking rules, and that's only if I've parked on the "good" side of the street. *sigh*

Still, it's a welcome break from having to sprint out the door like a thing possessed in order to be at work on time. In fact, if I didn't have something like two regular games (and one irregular one) to worry about, I'd probably opt for an evening shift until I find a job I like better, if only because I wouldn't constantly have to worry about being sacked for being two minutes late one morning.

Actually, I might do that next time around, but instead of taking the weekend off I'd take Sunday and another day in the week off. That would probably be useful. Meh. That's not for another month anyway. I'll cross that bridge when and if I come to it.

Must now run like a thing possessed to get ahold of those medical reports from my doctor to make sure that I'm not sacked for an "unjustified" absence from work. Feh.

Okay, this is it! *kicks self out front door*

Meh...

It's going to be a loooong day.

Got to work a little over an hour ago, and lo and behold but part of my system died. There's a shocker. Anyhoo, am getting back into the swing of things, and realised that I really didn't miss this festering cesspool of corporate decay.

Blech.

Is it wrong to hope they'll fire me tomorrow? ;)

Oooh! Good news! I can take myself offline now!

*runs off*

:::edit:::

Too good to be true. Session cancelled due to high volume of incoming calls. *sigh* Back to the grindstone I go. At least I got ten minutes offline or so.

They said they might reschedule it for later in the day. I hope it's not during my lunch hour. That would suck. One hour and fifteen minutes until my next break.

Good news in bad packaging

Turns out that I am indeed suspended this Wednesday, which means that I can play in curtana's D&D game. w00t!

It also turns out that, since I was to be suspended last Thursday but was instead on medical leave that I have one more day off of suspension to enjoy expiate in the near but undetermined future. Yay!

Part of me keeps saying that I shouldn't be happy about this. Then the rest of me stomps on it repeatedly until it shuts up.

Oh, and in the category of Stupid People Who Don't Do The One Small Favour You Ask Of Them When You Have To Leave Work Very Suddenly Because You're Vomiting Blood, I'd like to nominate my colleague Ismahan who didn't follow up with a client whom I'd promised would get a callback within the hour. It's now been ten days. I have to call this client tomorrow and apologise for the inconvenience, and my supervisor put it down as another black mark in my rapidly-growing file. Apparently it's not grounds for dismissal, though.

That is all. I may post to bitch some more, but I have to be online again in six minutes, and if I deviate from that I'll get canned before I even expiate the rest of my suspension days. :P

My supervisor...

... is wearing a fluorescent lime green shirt. The less said about that, the better. ^_^


I am currently arguing with a guy who speaks no English and next to no French, trying to convince him that the fees we charged him are indeed justified. I'm not even convincing myself. Sure, they're justifiable, but does that mean they're justified? I don't for a second believe that it really costs $25 to merge two accounts when all it takes is about fifteen keystrokes and maybe ten minutes for someone with experience. Hell, I can do it in fifteen minutes or less, and I'm not even really trained for it. I'm paid $15.47/hour: you do the math. *sigh*

45 minutes until my day officially ends. I really wish it were less. The day has gone by relatively quickly, thank God. I think it's the novelty of actually being back at work. I'm sure it'll wear off and time will begin to drag on in its own inimitable fashion soon enough.

*looks at phone*

Bugger. Still more people waiting online. I may have to stay late after all. *more sighing* They haven't let up all day. Not a nightmare rush, but just a steady, annoying trickle of callers who just won't leave me alone!

Bah.

Won't you be my neigbour?

This post in the Real Live Preacher's blog brought back lovely memories of watching Mr. Rogers' Neighbourhood on television. Yes, I'm Canadian, I spell it "neighbourhood" no matter how Mr. Rogers himself spells it.

For Canadians there's also Mr. Dress-Up, who kind of lost some of the magic once the puppets Casey and Finnegan were retired (and who knows whether Casey was a boy or a girl? It remains a mysetry to this day).

Of course, there's Sesame Street, which I ceased to enjoy after they introduced Elmo. But I remember avidly watching it as a small child and all the way into my teens when I was home sick. I used to watch it with my father, who loved Super Grover to the point where I would have to call him away from his work if ever there was a sketch with him involved. That and "Kermit The Frog, here, with the Sesame Street News."

I used to watch all three of those programs in the morning between nine and eleven, and afterwards have lunch with my father who would drive me to preschool along with four or five other kids in our big brown station wagon. All the kids used to want to carpool with us because my father was so funny: he instituted the "Carpool News" which was essentially just frivolous stuff about which child was doing what, who was home sick with chicken pox and what have you, but he'd have all of us shrieking with hysterical laughter within two or three minutes.

He used to tease my best friend Thomas, who was as hyperactive as the day is long, and mock-admonish him: "Don't break my car, Thomas!" My father is French Canadian, and has the amusing habit of inflecting the last syllable of that word, so that it comes out sounding almost hispanic, and this amused Tom to no end, and he'd bounce around on the back seat chanting "Break! Break! Break!"

And in the end it didn't matter because our car was a heap of junk anyway that wouldn't have passed any kind of safety test if people had bothered to check.

Thomas' mother drove a yellow and white Winnebago with a sun roof at the time, which was wuite the lark to play around in with him and his twin sister Emily. We lived together on the same street for 23 years, but I mostly lost track of them after we turned 15 or so. They became increasingly cool as I became increasingly nerdy, and they started avoiding me, more or less consciously. I still kind of miss them, even if sometimes they drove me to the edge and over.

They're living in Nova Scotia with their father and his wife now. Maybe I'll get a chance to see them again when they come to Montreal to visit their mother sometime this summer.