When You Work for a Not-for-Profit...

I pay bills for a living.  Not exactly an overly-exciting occupation, but for the most part, it pays my bills, so I'll go with it.  ;-)  I've been working for a not-for-profit blood bank for nearly ten years now, and as time has passed it has become increasingly clear that the mentality of a not-for-profit organization is very, very different from that of a corporation.

My first clue that something was amiss was when I saw this expandable sorting folder being used by my co-worker.  Yes, this is the actual folder.  Note the use of stickers and handwritten letters to replace the tabs that had fallen off of the folder.  I laughed and asked my friend, "Why don't you just order a new one?"  Her response...  "No need to do that...  This one's still good!"  Clearly her 25 years of service to this particular organization has skewed her judgement as to what constitutes "good."  :-)

Add that "reconstructed" expanding folder to this old beauty, and you'll see just how far a good old not-for-profit will go in order to make the most of its equipment and supplies.  This is the actual copy machine that we use in our department.  That sign says, "To Make Copy, Gently Press Green Button and Move in a Counter-Clockwise Motion.  (No, really...  We're not kidding.)"  I am fairly certain this machine is older than I am, but as my friend says, "It's still good!"  It's a good thing too, because I don't believe they make the parts to fix it anymore.

About three years into my tenure here at the blood center, I got up the nerve to ask my boss if we could get electric staplers.  We each go through a good 500 staples a day, and after three years of manually stapling everything, we were starting to show signs of carpal tunal.  I wrote about my love of my new, rechargeable, battery-operated stapler once.  It was touch and go there for a while.  I practically had to write a formal proposal justifying the purchase of said stapler, but I think my employer's fear of losing the only people who paid the bills to weeks of surgical recoveries and medical leave won out.  The awesome staplers were purchased!  However we did receive strict instructions that these "were to last!"  :-)

Another sure sign that you work for a not-for-profit is the severe shortage of bonuses or perks of any kind.  When we are lucky enough to get a little something, most of my co-workers are easily appeased.  I remember the first time I witnessed the mass chaos caused by the word "FREE!"  When the sentence, "Free pencils in the breakroom!" came over the intercom one morning, the scene that played out before me was something akin to the Running of the Bulls.  Co-workers raced towards those free pencils like seagulls to potato chips, like vultures to roadkill, like Walmart shoppers on Black Friday...  I stood, my back pressed closely to the wall, and prayed that I would make it out alive.

Just when I thought I'd seen it all, we received an email from upper management informing us that all departments who participated in an upcoming survey would receive a pizza party.  All I saw was a photograph of moldy pizza.  My co-workers, on the other hand, saw "OMG!  FREE FOOD!!!"  Over the course of the next two weeks, I was hounded relentlessly by my peers.  "Have you taken your survey?"  "You've got to take your survey!"  "Hey, take your survey!"  I was afraid of a public flogging if I neglected my survey-taking duty, so I took the darn thing.  Ironically, the survey ended up being about company morale and ways to improve it.  I doubt they appreciated my smart@ss response of "Well, apparently the promise of moldy pizza works wonders around here!"

Yep, the mentality of a not-for-profit organization is quite different from that of corporation.  I am quite pleased to say that after 10 years working here, I have held strong to my beliefs and have not been permanently warped into thinking that duct tape will make my desk chair "like new again!"  My co-workers and their crazy antics just crack me up, and I am so happy that I have managed to maintain my dignit...  Hang on a sec...  They're making an announcement...

OMG!!!  FREE PENCILS IN THE BREAKROOM!!!

Gotta go...

:-)

Thankful - Day Eight

Being a single, full-time working parent is hard.  Being a single, full-time working foster parent adds an entirely new level of stress and responsibility that can sometimes be rather overwhelming.

Day Eight: 

Today, I am thankful that I work with a group of amazingly-supportive and understanding people.  When I first started navigating my way through Foster/Adopt Land, I had no idea how crazy it could be.  My first three placements were insane, and I felt like I was a huge burden to my co-workers as I seemed to miss more days of work than I was there.  They have been behind me 100% though, and have willingly picked up the slack when my home life inevitably interferes with my job.

Fortunately, I have learned ways to better control CPS' invasion of my daily life, and have managed to keep its interference with my job down to a minimum (well, as "minimum" as it can be anyway).  It seems to have become second nature to everyone at the office as well.  When I received the call that Monkey was on his way late one Sunday night, I called and left a message for my boss telling him that I got a new little one and that I wouldn't be in the next day.  When I called on Monday morning to check in, he had already gotten the ball rolling on my FMLA paperwork for me.  He and my "partner in crime" both told me to "do what I need to do" and that they'd "handle everything there."  My boss ended that conversation with "so I guess we'll see you part-time for the next couple of weeks while you do all of his initial appointments, and we'll get you back full-time after that!"  It cracked me up that he seems to be an "old pro" at this foster care thing now too.  :-)

On top of picking up the slack during the times that I have no choice but to be out of the office, my co-workers have always genuinely cared about my babies.  They spoil them rotten when I bring them up to the office on the third Wednesday of the month (the one day a month that I take off for home visits).  They are always on the lookout for coupons and good deals for baby things.  They bring clothes and toys that their grandbabies have outgrown for my "on-hand stash."  They bring totes and other bags that they come across because they know it kills me to send my babies home with their things in trashbags. 

They offer advice when I ask for it...  Listen to me vent when I need to...  They humor me and ooh and ahh over what must have been hundreds of baby pictures over the past three years...  And they have given me shoulders to cry on (and have cried with me) when I have had to say "goodbye" to my babies.  Foster care touches so many people...  Not only does it have an effect on the people directly involved, but it can impact the lives of everyone in ways that many people don't even realize.  Watching my co-workers rally around me and my kids has proven to be a huge eye-opener for me, and has made me appreciate even more what amazing people they truly are (I thought they were pretty great before I started fostering).  They are certainly under no obligation to be there for me and my babies, but they are...  and for that, I am truly thankful.

I really do work with some awesome people.  If I had the money, I would give them extra just for being fantastic people.  Or a really fancy solid gold trophy!!!  Fortunately, they seem to appreciate the occasional gift of morning donuts and chocolate every once in a while.  They're a pretty easy to please bunch. ;-)  But they are definitely a group of people that I am thankful to call my friends.

"Motivational" Posters

My BFF works in a department that most people are afraid to go anywhere near.  Not so much because of the nature of the work that they perform...  but more because of the volatile atmosphere.  We're talking screaming matches, theft, vandalism of personal property, fist fights, etc.  AT WORK!  There is one woman in particular who is the common denominator in every single battle, and in Katie's words "that b1tch be crazy!" 

In an effort to alleviate some of the animosity in the department, a couple of the group's employees have taken it upon themselves to display varying motivational posters and email daily inspirational quotes to the entire department.  So naive...  So optimistic...  So completely delusional...  Katie of course sends them my way...  Not to inspire me, but to allow me the opportunity to laugh and mock others right along with her.  Because, seriously...  I think fist fights and vandalism are way beyond the point of "thinking happy thoughts" to make it all go away.  Personally, I think someone needs to be fired.  Namely, "Crazy B1tch."  But we're not big on change around here, so I think unless the actual police get involved (as opposed to our rent-a-cops on campus), Crazy B1tch's job seems to be safe.

Being the super-awesome BFF that I am, I have taken it upon myself to help Katie locate some amazing motivational posters of her own that she can share with her department.  Personally, I think that I would be much more inspired to shape up my behavior and attitude if I was sent one of these as opposed to a sweet little poster telling me to "Rise Above."

The mere thought of having to ask, "You want fries with that?" on a daily basis should be enough to send any grown person into a panic.  I think if my boss sent me this poster, I'd shape up fast!

I think this would work well too.  Short.  Sweet. Concise.  Effective.

What exactly are you trying to say?!?  I don't want to be the stupid person!

This is one of those reverse psychology things.  "Wait a minute!  The smart people left?  I guess I need to quit so I can say I'm a smart person!"

A not-so-subtle way of telling everyone to "embrace change."

Okay...  So this one would probably provoke another screaming match or fist fight, but I think it's pretty funny.  :-)

And these, I just think are funny and wanted to share...

While my approach to group motivation and team building might be a little unconventional, I think it could work.  Katie, tell your boss if he's not going to outright fire Crazy B1tch, he should at least consider sending out my motivational posters.  You never know...  It could work!  (Although in Crazy B1tch's case, I think a little jail time is the only solution.)

Weather Girl

Recently, I have become the go-to Weather Girl at the office.  While I have no official training in meteorology, my co-workers and I strongly believe that I have a much more reliable and accurate forecasting system in place than the area's trained professionals.  I'm not sure if there is a technical term for it, but I call it...

"My Leg Hurts"

Yep!  Ever since I broke my leg, it hurts like a mother whenever it is about to rain!  Now, when we have cloudy skies, the girls at work inevitably ask me whether or not they should go roll up the windows in their cars rather than consult The Weather Channel. 

I used to feel so good that everyone seemed so concerned about how I was healing.  "How's your leg, Tammy?"  "Your leg doesn't hurt too bad today, does it Tammy?"  It wasn't until recently that I discovered that their apparent concern for my well-being was merely a ploy to determine whether or not it was going to rain.

I think the true extent of my "abilities" became clear a few weeks ago when a group of co-workers and I decided to walk a couple of blocks to go to lunch.  My leg had been bothering me that day, but I chose to ignore it, tough it up, and walk to the restaurant with the girls.  When we got outside and saw the ominous-looking clouds in the distance, I made an off-handed comment about how I really hoped we didn't get caught in the rain.  I even made a joke about how my leg was hurting more than usual.  We all laughed.

That is to say, we all laughed...  Until we stood up to leave the restaurant to walk back to work and discovered the torrential downpour that was occurring outside.  As the six of us huddled helplessly under the cover of the patio wondering how the heck we were going to get back to the office with only one umbrella between us, I (of course) just had to open my smart mouth and say, "I told you my leg hurt."  ;-)

After weighing our options, the consensus was that the least embarrassing solution was for me to call Katie and see if she would come get us.  Unfortunately she (and the couple of other so-called "friends" that we tried to call ;-) wouldn't answer her phone.  We finally admitted defeat, gave in, and Cheryl called our boss.  He was waiting for our call, and offered to come pick us up.  :-)

By the time Cheryl hung up the phone, the rain had let up to a light shower, so Carole (the keeper of the lone umbrella), and Cheryl and I (the two morons who decided that we weren't made of sugar and therefore wouldn't melt) decided to go ahead and walk back.  Cheryl called our boss once more and told him not to worry about driving over.  Carole was going to get her car and drive back to pick up the other three who stayed behind at the restaurant.

The three of us set out on our rainy adventure back to work...  Cheryl and I in all of our stupidity, and Carole holding her lightning rod high above her head...  (For the life of me, I've never been able to understand why the inventor of the umbrella thought it was a good idea to hold a metal pole over our head during a thunderstorm!  As far as I'm concerned, that's just asking for trouble!)  We made it back to the office, and Carole hopped in her car to head out to rescue the island castaways. 

Cheryl and I (in all of our drowned-rat glory) sauntered up the stairs...  and promptly ran into our boss who actually had the nerve to laugh at us!  The little snot (and I say that with all of the love and respect in the world :-) even had the nerve to say (with a mischievous grin), "I thought about saying something when you guys left for lunch, but then I thought 'Nooooo...'  I'm just gonna sit by the phone, wait for their call, and then make fun of them when they finally do."  Mmm-hmmm...  Nice. 

We didn't realize just how infamous our little field trip had become until about a week later.  Cheryl was talking to a co-worker from an entirely different department when she casually mentioned getting stuck in the rain the week before.  Our co-worker loudly exclaimed, "Oh my gosh!!!  That was you guys?!?  That story is legendary!  Everybody's talking about it!"  I think if Cheryl had a good throwing object handy I might have found myself on the receiving end of a projectile to the head.  "Tammy!" she yelled...  "You see what happens when you post stuff on Facebook?!?"  (Just wait until she reads my blog! :-)

After our lunchtime adventure in the rain, and my seemingly uncanny premonition that it would happen, the girls were a bit intrigued the following week when I said, "You know...  My leg's hurting today.  I think it's gonna rain."  They weren't quite ready to fully-embrace my new magical power just yet, but when the floodgates opened that night, they were all believers.  :-)

While I've only had a few opportunities to prove my newfound ability (It is nearing summer in Texas, you know...  Not much rain around here anymore.), so far I have proven to be correct every time I venture out to predict that day's chance of precipitation.  I now answer questions about the status of my recovery with, "Go roll up your windows." or "It's not gonna rain."

(*** Note - Names have not been changed to protect the innocent.  If I'm going down...  We're all going down! ***)

The Journal Jar

I changed my mind and decided to post my Journal Jar entries here on I Must Be Trippin' too so I wouldn't have to deal with multiple blogs. What is a Journal Jar, you ask? Well, my cousin made homemade Christmas gifts this past Christmas, and one of them was a Journal Jar. It's basically hundreds of random questions and topics to give you a starting point for your daily journal entries. I LOVED the idea, and thought I'd carry it over to my blog. It's a great way to discover little-known facts about your family and friends, and can be saved for future generations.

"What was your first paying job?"

I always tell people that I never really had a "typical" job as a teenager or in college. I never did fast food or waited tables at restaurants. I don't really have the personality for it. I think the first time someone would have said, "Hey, Miss... My coffee's cold," I probably would have told them where the coffee pot was located and what they could do with it when they found it. :-) The only time I ever attempted retail lasted about 4-6 weeks in college. I worked in the Children's Department at Mervyn's during Back-to-School season. If that's not enough to send a person screaming in the opposite direction, I don't know what is. Retail was not for me.

I think my first paying job was working at the dentist office with my Mom when I turned 16. They had me cleaning instruments, developing x-rays, sending out mailings, cleaning the office, etc. ...pretty much all of the stuff that no one else wanted to do... :-) I really liked it though (except for the part where I had to clean out the suction traps at the end of the day. All of those tooth bits and nastiness... YUCK!). But the best part was that I only had to work about 10-12 hours a week and made the same amount of money that all of my friends made at their 20-hour-a-week fast food jobs. (They didn't like me much. :-)

I worked there for about a year when my Aunt Linda asked me if I'd be interested in coaching gymnastics at the YMCA. Heck, yeah!!! That's a COOL job, and I was good at it. I ended up coaching from the time I was 17 all through my early college years. It's good money, that's for sure. At one point, I was coaching at a nearby club about 30 hours a week around all of my college classes. I was in awesome shape... I was very bendy too. :-)

Throughout the "early years," I had all sorts of jobs. I worked at the dentist office. I coached gymnastics. I helped my aunt coach PE at a private school. I did after school care at the YMCA. I worked summer day care. I did private tutoring. I gave beginning clarinet and flute lessons. I answered the phones and did some billing a couple days a week for my uncle's piano tuning/moving company. I've even worked in several libraries (It's easy to get on at a library if you've ever even been inside of one before. :-)

I think the busiest I ever was happened around the time I was 20 or so. I had about 15-20 hours a week of gymnastics classes in the mornings, some late evenings, and Saturdays. I did after school care at the YMCA another 15 hours a week. I threw in about 6-8 hours a week of private tutoring and clarinet lessons. And my aunt and uncle let me hang out at their house and answer phones for their company a couple hours a day in between my morning and afternoon stuff so I wouldn't have to drive back to the dorms (It was very nice of them to basically pay me to do my homework :-). Crazy busy, but again, the money added up. Especially because I didn't have any free time to spend it!

I love that I never had a "typical" job when I was young. I was certainly busy, but the variety made the time fly, and I love working with kids. I kind of miss it. :-( I'll definitely be one of those PTA moms. Shoot... I'll probably be the president of the PTA knowing me. I don't do anything half-way! :-)

"If" Question of the Week

I thought it might be fun to start an interactive "If" Question of the Week here on Tammy's Ramblings. I've owned a book entitled, "If..." by Evelyn McFarlane & James Saywell for several years, and it's a lot of fun at parties. It's got hundreds of "if" questions that really make you think. Some are funny... Some are pretty deep... But the answers you get are always interesting.

My goal is to present an "If" Question of the Week every week, answer the question from my point of view, and ask each of you to respond with your answer as well.

"If" Question of the Week - Week 1

"If you won the lottery, what is the first thing you would do?"

I guess my first response to this would be with a question. Is this before or after I get released from the hospital after passing out from hyperventilating? Because I'm fairly certain that would be the first thing I would do.

I know the standard response to this question is ordinarily, "The first thing I'd do if I won the lottery would be to tell my boss to shove it and quit my job!" But not me... Why, you might ask... Do I love my job that much? Does the emotional gratification outweigh the monetary compensation? Do I truly feel as though "I save lives by making transfusion possible," and that no amount of money could replace the sense of accomplishment I feel in my heart for knowing I helped save a life? HECK NO! I pay bills for a living for crying out loud! It's a far stretch (even for me) to feel as though paying for a 9 cent box of paperclips is saving a life. I might feel differently if I worked in the lab or was a phlebotomist. Although I'm certain I'd still end up quitting eventually.

No... I wouldn't quit my job first thing because I'm kind of a little snot. I think it would be hilarious to run into the office, announce that I won the lotto, and then go into work every day as scheduled for a few weeks (or even months) just to sit back and watch my bosses squirm as they worry about if/when I'll be quitting. Bad, Tammy! :-) No, money might not be able to buy happiness, but in this case... it can certainly provide entertainment!

*** evil grin ***

So, what is the first thing I would do if I won the lottery? I would tell my parents to quit their jobs and set them up with a big chunk of change so they could retire and live comfortably for years to come. Goodness knows, I owe them! :-)

What about all of you? "If you won the lottery, what is the first thing you would do?"

Mental Health Day

I just love Mental Health Days! That is to say, I love my mental health. Which is why after only one day in the first circle of hell... I mean... at the office... I told my boss that I was taking a Mental Health Day today.

I was kind of shocked really. He didn't ask for a full itinerary of my plans for the day or three methods of communication on the off chance they needed to contact me. He didn't remind me to put up my "Where Are You" sign. He didn't even ask me why I needed the day off or tell me to "coordinate my daily tasks with my A/P partner to make sure everything is covered" like he does with everyone else. He just said, "sounds good" and told me to have a good day. Okay, who are you, and what have you done with Anal-Retentive Timeclock Nazi?!?

I suppose in all fairness, the last time I told him that I was taking a Mental Health Day, he did ask me if everything was okay. I burst into uncontrollable tears and wailed, "I JUST NEED A FREAKIN' DAY OFF, OKAY?!?" This was before my shrink got my medications regulated and I was borderline checking into the loony bin. So yeah... I can see where he might have been having flashbacks of Bipolar Girl and didn't want to relive that wonderful moment in our working relationship. But still... After recent events at the office, his eagerness to let me leave had me slightly suspicious. I have my theories, of course...

• He's adding up my demerits so he can fire me or demote me upon my return. They seem to do that quite a bit up there. I know of several people who came back to the office after being out who were either fired for failure to pre-plan their illnesses, or who came back from vacation only to discover someone else sitting in their desk and to learn that they were now part of the janitorial staff.

• Perhaps Bipolar Girl is rearing her head more prominently than I realize and he's frightened of me. Sure, I'm only 5'1" and a good foot shorter than he is, but Bipolar Girl is scary. She goes from crying hysterically over her flat Diet Coke to severe rage that someone is looking at her for crying to laughing uncontrollably at her irrational behavior... all within a matter of seconds. So if Bipolar Girl is coming back, I can see where he might want to have me out of shooting distance. :-)

• He respects my "no-nonsense, tell-it-like-I-see-it" approach. (Yeah, right :-) I always tell him exactly what I think, whether he likes what I have to say or not. You'd think it would get me into trouble, but it seems to have the opposite effect. Shoot! Sometimes he even comes to me and asks me what I think! Maybe he respects the fact that I tell him when I'm taking off, rather than asking permission. Why ask permission when I'm going to take the day off no matter what he says? I'd just call in "sick" if he said no, and he knows that. I suppose, rather than lose that battle, he just says "sounds good" so he feels like he made the decision in the end. :-)

Whatever the reason for his completely out-of-character reaction to my demand for a mental health day, I won't worry about it. I'll just lounge around the house in my pj's and enjoy the day. I guess we'll find out tomorrow if I'm still the Accounts Payable Coordinator or if I've been demoted to Towel Girl in the women's restroom. But until then... I'm "mentally-healthy" and feeling gooooood! :-)

I'm So Ashamed...

 

 

It was a fairly uneventful day today. Paid lots and lots of bills, fixed all sorts of messes that came up while I was sick, and "saved lives by making transfusion possible" seeing as how that's my job and all... I did, however, get my name on the board for talking too much (Thanks a lot, Katie!). There was NO ONE at work today, so I was on the phone a lot while I was coding the 10,000 invoices that I get every week. I'm very talented at multi-tasking. Apparently though, I talked too much, or I didn't use my "library voice" as stated in the Cubicle Etiquette Handbook, thus resulting in what I believe is my third demerit for the month of February.

My first "implied via ESP" demerit was most likely bestowed upon me when I neglected to give proper two week written notice of a completely unpredictable illness. I say "implied via ESP" because no one actually said anything to me about it, but I am almost certain there were discussions while I was bedridden for nearly a week. I doubt I will hear anything at all until I have hit demerit number five, and am sent to trial do determine whether or not I am to be publicly flogged in the breakroom.

I think demerit number two was thrown my way yesterday when I failed to get a potty pass. Again, no words were spoken, but I did receive "looks" when I arose from my chair, left the confines of my cubicle, and exited the department without announcing in a loud, clearly enunciated voice that I "HAD TO GO POTTY" and putting up my big orange sign that says something along the lines of "Tammy is in the 3rd stall on the left in the upstairs women's restroom if you want to hound her before she comes back in no more than two minutes." I'm not really sure what happens at two minutes and one second, but I think they come to the stall and request your badge so they can go to the timeclock and clock you out until you return to be shackled to your desk.

I just can't wait to see what they come up with next! It's always so exciting! I should probably go ahead and tell them now that I do plan to retire in 30 years. I just hope that's enough notice! I just love my job. It's so rewarding, and it makes me feel so good to have an actual grown up career. Not at all like when I was 18-years-old and had to make a mad run to the timeclock at Mervyn's to clock in before 9:07 or I went on the "Naughty List." Oh! Wait! It IS like that! It is exactly like that! Too bad Mervyn's went bankrupt. At least I got a shopping discount there!

So Katie... If you call me tomorrow, be sure to whisper so I don't feel the urge to talk too loudly... "Library voices" and all, remember... I think if I get a fourth demerit, I have to give up my firstborn. And seeing as how I'm going through quite a bit to get my firstborn, I really don't want to have to give him or her up just yet! :-)

And the Winner Is...

 

It was a monumental day in CBC Land today. Were the 1100 already underpaid employees given cost of living increases to help them out and possibly improve morale a bit? Did management decide to give bonuses to the employees whose workload more than doubled after our merge with another blood center? Of course not! That would just be silly!...

Today marked what I believe is the 37th week in a row where an already-established member of management was promoted to an even higher level of management. Now that's just what we needed! A Senior, Senior Director under the COO, but over the Senior Director over the Director over the three Managers over the one (I kid you not, ONE) employee in the Facilities department... Can anyone say, "top-heavy?"

I have to admit, I'm a little bummed. Not because it seems that I will soon have seven bosses within a ten person department (we only have three right now, so we're overdue for some new management positions by CBC standards), but because no one let me in on how I can get one of these positions! I have my theories, of course. And I have decided to try them out one at a time until I find the one that works.

Week One in Tammy's Quest for Directorship - "Calling Dibs"As soon as this week's new Director was announced, I jumped up on my chair and loudly exclaimed, "I CALL DIBS ON NEXT WEEK'S DIRECTOR POSITION!!!" I think it is quite possible that whoever screamed the loudest might get the job. I'm keeping my fingers crossed, although I might have to fight my Accounting Manager for it. He yelled rather loudly himself, and then he proceeded to challenge me to a game of "rock, paper, scissors" for it. He doesn't scare me though. I can outsmart him.

Week Two, Should Week One Fail - "Entering the Raffle"I believe it's highly possible that everyone has been entering some sort of Management Raffle that I don't know about. I know I've seen my bosses take out what look suspiciously like ticket stubs around the same time every week, just before the new promotions are announced. I just need to find out where I can purchase those tickets, and I'm in! If I buy enough of those puppies, I bet I could move from Supervisor to "Triple Platinum Senior Director to the 25th Power" in no time!!! That'd be cool.

Week Three - "Discover the Secret Handshake"It has occurred to me that promotion to a management position might not be as straightforward as calling dibs or entering a raffle. I have decided that I must also watch our steadily-growing management team for unusual behavior such as a secret handshake when they think no one is looking, or the utterance of the week's new secret password. I'm fairly certain I saw this week's winner and a couple of the chief officers bump knuckles, dance a Riverdance jig, cross their arms in that rapper pose, and utter something that sounded like, "Cock-a-doodle-doo! Peace out" when they thought they were alone. I'll have my eye on them, that's for sure!

Week Four - "Promote Myself"Shoot! With over 500 supervisors, managers, directors, senior directors, chief officers, etc. already in place, who the heck is going to notice if I start showing up to management meetings?!? I'm already one of the chosen few with access to "All Users" via email. I think I might just send out an email telling everyone to join in congratulating me to my new, well-earned position as "Super-Duper, Big Boss Lady Over Everyone and Everything."

I'm sure there are plenty of other strategies that I can use to further my CBC career and head in the direction of management. Honestly, I think it might be more difficult to avoid promotion into management at the rate they're going! It's actually become a big joke among the "little people" at the office. So next week, when the 501st person is promoted and you hear hysterical laughter coming from CBC headquarters, don't be surprised. Just be kicking yourself for not learning the secret interpretive dance. It could have been you!

My New Mission

During my quest toward self-actualization and journey to find happiness again, I've decided to make it my mission to start blogging regularly. It might be serious. It might be Jack Handey-type "Deep Thoughts." Maybe something that I found that made me laugh or something that I'm thankful for. Today, I have decided to present you with my Positive Thought for the Day.

I was sitting here at work, opening the first massive stack of mail that we get every Monday, and it suddenly dawned on me.

MY STAPLER ROCKS!!!

You might think this is not something to be overly-excited about. You might think I forgot to take my meds this morning, but you'd be wrong. I JUST LOVE MY STAPLER!!! (:-D) It is a Swingline, rechargeable, battery operated, electric stapler that handles up to 20 sheets of paper at a time! ...and it only took me 5 years to convince my boss that I was worth the $40 it would cost to get me one.

You see, I go through about 500 staples a day, and using the big heavy manual stapler was just not hacking it. Now that I think about it, I think the only reason that my boss agreed to buy me the electric stapler was that I was beginning to show the early symptoms of carpal tunal syndrome, and he just didn't want to have to do my job if I had to be out for another surgery. But hey! Whatever works, right?

So today, I salute you, Mr. Swingline, rechargeable, battery-operated, electric stapler! You are truly a blessing in my life.

Gotta Love My Job

Have you ever had one of those days where you are running around like a crazy person, working non-stop, but for some strange reason the work just doesn't go away? I swear, I must have paid 400 bills today! That is my job. I pay the bills, so I can come home and pay my own bills. Sadly, I think I have another 400 bills sitting on my desk just waiting for me. The pile never went down all day! People just kept throwing more bills at me!

I tell myself, "I love my job... I love my job... I love my job..." Unfortunately, my little self pep-talk doesn't seem to be working. "Myself" just bursts into hysterical laughter at the sound of my own voice. ...the kind of hysterical laughter that usually includes snorting and watering eyes, and lots of people asking, "Are you okay, honey?"

Someday, I will meet a man who will say, "Baby, why don't you stay home and take care of the family and let ME pay the bills?" I will LOVE that man! That man ROCKS! (And he'll rock even more if he'll cook and give me massages :-)