the annual itch
January 24, 2006,
Why do I expect each winter to be the one where I escape an outbreak of eczema on my right arm? Because I always, every damned winter, get a patch of eczema on my right arm.
It popped up last week, pale pink and the size of a dime. Today it�s an angry red, and nearly the size of a quarter. And it itches like a sumbitch, I might add.
I scheduled an appointment for tomorrow afternoon, because this particular doctor has never treated me for eczema, and so cannot go by my past history and just phone in a damned prescription for Elidel. I have to actually go see him.
The only thing worse than being overburdened at work is being underburdened at work. Long, boring days that drag on and on, leaving me with way too much time to convince myself that I should eat to relieve the tedium. I have been trying to come up with a few independant, organizational projects to fill my time, but it's still tedious, because I know it's makework.
I got approval on my money-saving project, though, and I spent a good deal of time today on getting that moving. The final amount of savings will should come in around $12,000.00. And beaucoup points for me with senior staff, which is goodwill in the bank.
In these scary days, one does what one can to present oneself as an asset to the company. My main thrust at the moment is to be considered as a dependable, solid, pro-company, on-the-ball, works-well-on-her-own-and-doesn't-bitch-much type of employee. That's what the boss likes and looks for, so that is what I must be. Oh, and keeping it brief is also highly treasured.
As much as I'd prefer to be a software diva and flip the bird to the corporate side of things, I can't do that if I want to succeed at this firm. (and by succeed, I mean keep my job!) The corporate culture here simply isn't wired that way. If you want respect around these parts, you need to do your job well, AND be attentive to the wishes of the management hierarchy.
Is it terribly wrong of me to not know Spouse's email address? JR called me to ask what it was, and I hadn't a clue. I had him send me the Vegas stuff he'd wanted to lay on Spouse. Not that I care, but presumably I'll be able to forward it at some point, provided I can hook up with Spouse before Friday. But now, I feel terrible and uncaring, that I don't know it. And that I can't dial his cell without looking up the number. (In all fairness, though-I've had my cell phone forever, and I don't know my OWN number without looking it up.)
What's wrong with me that I don't know this stuff? What does that say about me? That I'm uncaring, and unwilling to communicate, no doubt.
Well, DARN! I just looked at the LV scheduling, and realized that I have to miss the Green Bay Minicon!
Why is it that anytime in my life that there is anything going on, there is at least TWO things going on, at the very same damned time?!
Reading: �That Might Be Useful�Exploring America�s Secondhand Culture�, by Naton Leslie.
Listening: XM Comedy 150, A dead comics trifecta of Hicks, Hedberg, and Kinison.
Beading: Not in the mood right now.
One Year Ago, I was considering the matter.
At Random: click here
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