What, me worry? (a.k.a. The Anti-Fired, or Christmas in September)
Yes, yes, you were all right. I didn't get fired. I got anti-fired. I got showered with praise, I got a big fat raise, and I got a free trip to the Mecca of all Notes geeks - that's right folks...
"That's great, Joan!" you all interject in unison, "What are you going to do now?"
I'M GOING TO DISNEYL.. er... wait that's not right...
I'M GOING TO LOTUSPHERE!
Am I geeked or what? Is it wrong that I'm more instantly gratified about getting a trip to a week-long technical conference about Lotus Notes than I am about the rest? Don't get me wrong - I'm incredibly happy about everything else too. (And relieved that I can let go of the budget strings a little bit, too - I can't begin to express how nice that will be.) It's like opening presents at Christmas, when you get that big huge present that you'd been begging Santa for since March, but you also get something smaller but unexpected and really cool. Your love and appreciation of the big present isn't diminished in the least by your joy at receiving the smaller one... At least that's how I see it. [And since this is my blog, I declare that's how you will see it too. "Because those are the rules.. er, that I've just made up." (Sorry, Eddie Izzard reference. Gotta have those once in a while.)]
Good day for Joan.
---------------------------
Shout-outs & storytime:
Today's shout-out is to someone who passed along a uniquely random CTA story that I think we can all enjoy. If nothing else, it will make us feel better about our own commutes. (I don't have a good nickname for you though... I shall call you King Zuma.) Well, we all know and love the CTA, and particularly our fellow riders of it. Especially the wackos. (Right, Tallula?) We've all been prophiesied to, stood next to the smelly guy, sat next to the crazy mutterer, watched moms smack kids, watched able-bodied businessmen staunchly refuse to offer their seat to the pregnant blind woman on crutches, you name it. But KZ's story was one I had never, in my entire CTA-riding career, ever encountered. (Apologies to KZ if I misrelate anything...)
Imagine if you will, a long bus ride across town. (And not on one of those hip snobby Lincoln Park buses, either.) You're just trying to get home with a minimum of annoyance, and so far, so good. A man gets on at a stop, and you notice he's juggling a few items more than he can really handle. Then you notice what those items are - a newspaper, a can of generic Jewel cola (King Bold, was it?), a bag of cheetohs, and -- wait for it -- a can of sardines. (Yes, sardines.)
Man sits down and opens up the newspaper. So far, so good. Man opens up cola and bag of cheetohs. Okay, whatever, people eat/drink all the time. But please God, don't open up... no.. you're not... aw come on, for crying out loud... why are you opening up a can of sardines on a CITY BUS? Mmm... now the whole bus smells like sardines. And since you obviously didn't carry a set of utensils with you, how are you going to eat them, I wonder? Oh - of course, how silly of me. You'll scoop them out with your cheetos. My, sir, doesn't that look tasty. Really. Smells just lovely, too. Thank you for introducing all of us, your captive audience, to such a refreshing and new culinary delight.
As if that weren't enough, the guy manages to accidentally knock cola, cheetohs and sardines ALL over the floor of the bus in one fell swoop. ("Rivulets of cola" was the phrase KZ used to describe the spilled beverage eddying its way along the grooved bus floor.) Man picks up remnants and continues eating. Grab cheetoh, scoop in sardines, eat. Sip cola. Repeat. And once again, a few minutes later, the man drops everything on the floor. So not only does the bus reek of sardine, but now the floor is simultaneously wet, sticky, oily AND crunchy. Way to go, Sardine Man. Thanks for making a crappy commute that much worse.
So thanks KZ for the story - I will remember it next time I start thinking my own commute blows. Because as much as it blows in other ways, at least it doesn't smell like sardines.
- Joan
PS: I love my company... I love my company... I love my company... I love my company....
"That's great, Joan!" you all interject in unison, "What are you going to do now?"
I'M GOING TO DISNEYL.. er... wait that's not right...
I'M GOING TO LOTUSPHERE!
Am I geeked or what? Is it wrong that I'm more instantly gratified about getting a trip to a week-long technical conference about Lotus Notes than I am about the rest? Don't get me wrong - I'm incredibly happy about everything else too. (And relieved that I can let go of the budget strings a little bit, too - I can't begin to express how nice that will be.) It's like opening presents at Christmas, when you get that big huge present that you'd been begging Santa for since March, but you also get something smaller but unexpected and really cool. Your love and appreciation of the big present isn't diminished in the least by your joy at receiving the smaller one... At least that's how I see it. [And since this is my blog, I declare that's how you will see it too. "Because those are the rules.. er, that I've just made up." (Sorry, Eddie Izzard reference. Gotta have those once in a while.)]
Good day for Joan.
---------------------------
Shout-outs & storytime:
Today's shout-out is to someone who passed along a uniquely random CTA story that I think we can all enjoy. If nothing else, it will make us feel better about our own commutes. (I don't have a good nickname for you though... I shall call you King Zuma.) Well, we all know and love the CTA, and particularly our fellow riders of it. Especially the wackos. (Right, Tallula?) We've all been prophiesied to, stood next to the smelly guy, sat next to the crazy mutterer, watched moms smack kids, watched able-bodied businessmen staunchly refuse to offer their seat to the pregnant blind woman on crutches, you name it. But KZ's story was one I had never, in my entire CTA-riding career, ever encountered. (Apologies to KZ if I misrelate anything...)
Imagine if you will, a long bus ride across town. (And not on one of those hip snobby Lincoln Park buses, either.) You're just trying to get home with a minimum of annoyance, and so far, so good. A man gets on at a stop, and you notice he's juggling a few items more than he can really handle. Then you notice what those items are - a newspaper, a can of generic Jewel cola (King Bold, was it?), a bag of cheetohs, and -- wait for it -- a can of sardines. (Yes, sardines.)
Man sits down and opens up the newspaper. So far, so good. Man opens up cola and bag of cheetohs. Okay, whatever, people eat/drink all the time. But please God, don't open up... no.. you're not... aw come on, for crying out loud... why are you opening up a can of sardines on a CITY BUS? Mmm... now the whole bus smells like sardines. And since you obviously didn't carry a set of utensils with you, how are you going to eat them, I wonder? Oh - of course, how silly of me. You'll scoop them out with your cheetos. My, sir, doesn't that look tasty. Really. Smells just lovely, too. Thank you for introducing all of us, your captive audience, to such a refreshing and new culinary delight.
As if that weren't enough, the guy manages to accidentally knock cola, cheetohs and sardines ALL over the floor of the bus in one fell swoop. ("Rivulets of cola" was the phrase KZ used to describe the spilled beverage eddying its way along the grooved bus floor.) Man picks up remnants and continues eating. Grab cheetoh, scoop in sardines, eat. Sip cola. Repeat. And once again, a few minutes later, the man drops everything on the floor. So not only does the bus reek of sardine, but now the floor is simultaneously wet, sticky, oily AND crunchy. Way to go, Sardine Man. Thanks for making a crappy commute that much worse.
So thanks KZ for the story - I will remember it next time I start thinking my own commute blows. Because as much as it blows in other ways, at least it doesn't smell like sardines.
- Joan
PS: I love my company... I love my company... I love my company... I love my company....
posted by Call Me Joan @ 9:51 PM
1 Comments:
At 5:50 PM,
carrie said…
Wow. I will not complain about my horrendous commute in my nice car.
Ok, who am I kidding -- of course I'll complain about my commute, but will be thankful that I don't rely on smelly busses for the bulk of my transportation needs.
-HV
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