Seen on a truck in Marysville this afternoon. I'll be he has lots of dates...
Happy Labor Day 2023!
1 year ago
Sunday, March 18, 2007
Saturday, March 17, 2007
Leave-Behind Brochure
I'm going to break my own rule and blog a little about work. I don't normally--you never know who is reading your blog, and who they might know, and I'd like very much to keep my job.
So, in very general terms now...I work for a rather conservative company, quite a change from the free-wheeling non-profit world I came from. One of the things they tell you on your first day is that they absolutely monitor email, they burn email files to a disk every day and they monitor internet usage.
So, just keep this in mind as I tell my little tale, 'K?
In each workgroup of the building, there is a central copy room. About 30 people print to the same copier and go there to pick up printouts. Early yesterday morning I printed a document and wandered to the copier to retrieve it. I was greeted by a big pile of printouts from various other people (a common occurence). As I flipped through to find my sheets, I came upon a co-worker's printed out eBay receipts. Not a great idea, seeing as personal internet use is heavily frowned upon, so I decided to drop them off at his desk.
Until I noticed what the receipt was for.
--Wet Look Latex Panties, Black
--Wet Look Latex Panties, Red
--Latex Hot Pants
--Latex Thigh-Highs
and on, and on, and on, and on for about 8 pages.
I dropped the papers. Some of the floated under the copier. I crawled half-under the copier to retrieve them. I wondered what Mr.Latex would think upon finding me in this position. I panicked about that and bonked my head on the copier. I sat on the floor rubbing my head. The vice-president came in to get an envelope. He looked at me like I had clearly drunk my breakfast out of a paper bag. I stuffed the papers back on the copier and fled.
I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want Mr.Latex to get in trouble, which if his supervisor found the Panty Pages he most certainly would. On the other hand, I was embarrased for him and didn’t want to let him know that I’d seen evidence of his Panty Purchases.
Of course, I managed to get in the elevator TWICE with Mr.Latex today. What kind of work appropriate small talk can you make with someone, when the only thing you know about them is that they purchase an alarming number of very large size slutty underpants?
I was still feeling a little embarassed about trespassing on Mr.Latex’s private world of Panties until about 2 pm. I went back into the copy room to get another printout. I’d waited a little too long and it, like all orphaned printouts, ended up on the table, which is always madly strewn with paper left on the copier. But this time, there was one little pile all neatly stacked up. I looked in the pile for my papers and found….you guessed it, Mr.Latex’s eBay receipt. 6 hours later, and it is still in the copy room. Apparently, Mr. Latex never prints out anything that doesn’t involve lingerie or he too would have seen this. And, judging by the neatness of the pile, many people were looking for a printout, looked in the pile, were horrified, neatly stacked the papers on the table and fled.
I decided to throw it in the recycle bin for him—I don’t want him to get in trouble, but I wasn’t going to hand him the incriminating papers either. Eeew.
So, my tip of the day—
If you print out something incriminating or just plain icky at work, know where that paper is at all times. Don’t leave it in the copy room, the bathroom or the cafeteria. The preceding has been a public service announcement from Ameliabee, who is now going to wash her mind’s eye out with bleach. Thank you.
So, in very general terms now...I work for a rather conservative company, quite a change from the free-wheeling non-profit world I came from. One of the things they tell you on your first day is that they absolutely monitor email, they burn email files to a disk every day and they monitor internet usage.
So, just keep this in mind as I tell my little tale, 'K?
In each workgroup of the building, there is a central copy room. About 30 people print to the same copier and go there to pick up printouts. Early yesterday morning I printed a document and wandered to the copier to retrieve it. I was greeted by a big pile of printouts from various other people (a common occurence). As I flipped through to find my sheets, I came upon a co-worker's printed out eBay receipts. Not a great idea, seeing as personal internet use is heavily frowned upon, so I decided to drop them off at his desk.
Until I noticed what the receipt was for.
--Wet Look Latex Panties, Black
--Wet Look Latex Panties, Red
--Latex Hot Pants
--Latex Thigh-Highs
and on, and on, and on, and on for about 8 pages.
I dropped the papers. Some of the floated under the copier. I crawled half-under the copier to retrieve them. I wondered what Mr.Latex would think upon finding me in this position. I panicked about that and bonked my head on the copier. I sat on the floor rubbing my head. The vice-president came in to get an envelope. He looked at me like I had clearly drunk my breakfast out of a paper bag. I stuffed the papers back on the copier and fled.
I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want Mr.Latex to get in trouble, which if his supervisor found the Panty Pages he most certainly would. On the other hand, I was embarrased for him and didn’t want to let him know that I’d seen evidence of his Panty Purchases.
Of course, I managed to get in the elevator TWICE with Mr.Latex today. What kind of work appropriate small talk can you make with someone, when the only thing you know about them is that they purchase an alarming number of very large size slutty underpants?
I was still feeling a little embarassed about trespassing on Mr.Latex’s private world of Panties until about 2 pm. I went back into the copy room to get another printout. I’d waited a little too long and it, like all orphaned printouts, ended up on the table, which is always madly strewn with paper left on the copier. But this time, there was one little pile all neatly stacked up. I looked in the pile for my papers and found….you guessed it, Mr.Latex’s eBay receipt. 6 hours later, and it is still in the copy room. Apparently, Mr. Latex never prints out anything that doesn’t involve lingerie or he too would have seen this. And, judging by the neatness of the pile, many people were looking for a printout, looked in the pile, were horrified, neatly stacked the papers on the table and fled.
I decided to throw it in the recycle bin for him—I don’t want him to get in trouble, but I wasn’t going to hand him the incriminating papers either. Eeew.
So, my tip of the day—
If you print out something incriminating or just plain icky at work, know where that paper is at all times. Don’t leave it in the copy room, the bathroom or the cafeteria. The preceding has been a public service announcement from Ameliabee, who is now going to wash her mind’s eye out with bleach. Thank you.
Thursday, March 15, 2007
This year the Myositis Foundation is asking everyone whose life has been affected by Myositis to send an email to Oprah Winfrey and Ellen Degeneres, and encourage both ladies to devote a show to this relatively unknown and devastating disease.
I did send an email to the Mizzes Winfrey and Degeneres, and I also want to share my experiences with you, my faithful readers.
Six years ago, I received word that at age 27, my dear friend KT had become very very ill. It commenced with a frightening episode that landed her in the hospital, unable to move most of her muscles, left her exhausted and in severe pain, and stumped nearly all the doctors she saw. Finally, after many tests, including a muscle biopsy that sounded incredibly painful, KT was told she had Myositis. Don’t know what Myositis is? Neither did I! Myositis in its various forms is considered an inflammatory myopathy—a disease of the muscle where there is swelling and loss of muscle. The inflammation and muscle loss result in weakness and muscle pain. Many Myositis patients alternate between insomnia caused by the severe muscle pain and restless leg problems, and bouts of over-sleeping borne of exhaustion. In a survey conducted by the Myositis Association, 44% of respondents said that they experienced constant muscle pain, and 43% said they lived with intermittent muscle pain. 76% said they had never experienced remission.
But let me back up a second. Let me tell you about Ms. KT. I first met her when working for a Highly Respected Children’s Magazine which launched a toy catalog for Christmas. KT had worked in the customer service call center for the Magazine, and was put largely in charge of the new call center for the Catalog. She was so friendly, warm and nice from the very moment I met her, I knew I liked her. Turns out she was a heck of a supervisor too! We had a few people in that call center who were T-E-R-R-I-B-L-E. Really, truly terrible. While I longed to hit them in the head with a folding shovel, KT patiently an enthusiastically coached them…including the girl who repeatedly fell asleep, head thrown back to snore, and even the girl who told customers, “It will be a minute while I process your credit card. I mean, we have to make sure you didn’t steal it or max it out or anything. So hang on while I make sure you have enough money for this.” Again, she was patient and didn’t even attempt to throttle her with a telephone cord or anything.
Over time we grew to be friends outside of work, and I met her two Gigantic Cats, who are beautiful, and her itty bitty niece who was even lovlier. KT put up with my Ethel Merman obsession, introduced me to Krusteaz muffin mix and shared her love of Live.
We moved to Wisconsin, and KT moved up in the Highly Respected Magazine, eventually moving to another call-center based company as a supervisor. Then, she got sick.
Myositis is a disease of limits—how long you can stay awake, how long you can stay asleep, how far you can walk, how much pain you can take. I know that KT lives with constant muscle pain, at times more severe than I can fully imagine. She has seen her life go from independent career woman to living with her parents. She puts up with stares from random shoppers when she has to use a cane or wheelchair (and the “you don’t look sick” look when she legally parks in the handicapped zone). She has long periods of slow improvement which can end with a relapse, and a slide down the mountain to start over again. The frustration and disappointment must be overwhelming at times, but one of the best things about KT is that she is never bitter. She doesn’t mope around in Why Me mode, doesn’t devote her energy to longing for her old life back and thinking about what she has lost, but rather puts her energy toward getting a little better every day. If I were in her shoes, I’ve no doubt I would be a photographic negative of KT. I would be every bit as bitter, negative, angry and inconsolable as she is upbeat, positive and accepting.
I admire her more than I have probably ever told her, and look to her as an example when my diabetes care starts to feel like more than I can handle. Despite everything, KT is a terrific aunt to her gorgeous nieces, went on a Disney cruise, which I’m not nearly brave enough to try, is as supportive a sister as you can be, and still manages runs a website to raise money for Myositis awareness and education. I can't even keep this blog updated. KT, you're making me look bad ! :)
Most people, and some doctors, have never heard of Myositis. It is difficult to diagnose, and it is not uncommon for people to go years with incorrect diagnoses (including the famous it-is-all-in-your-head) before anyone figures out why they can't get out of a chair or climb a flight of stairs. There is no cure for Myositis, and for some people, very few treatment options. The more people hear about Myositis, the more money can be collected for research, and the sooner a cure can be found.
Won’t you take a few minutes to learn more about Myositis by visiting the Myositis Association? You can watch a great feature about the disease on Retirement Living TV.
And last but not least—it all comes back to Fabio. A family friend of Fabio has Inclusion Body Myositis, and Fabio discusses its devastating effects. As he points out, most drug companies are not eager to pump money into Myositis research, as the market for such drugs, 30,000-50,000 people, is relatively small compared to cholesterol drugs, which bring in over $20 billion annually. I know I make fun of the Fabio-meister, but I also like to give credit where credit is due. He is doing some good work here, helping to raise both awareness and money for this deserving cause. I can only hope that my 17,000 calls to Fabio Phone will keep him Not Believing It Is Butter for years to come.
I did send an email to the Mizzes Winfrey and Degeneres, and I also want to share my experiences with you, my faithful readers.
Six years ago, I received word that at age 27, my dear friend KT had become very very ill. It commenced with a frightening episode that landed her in the hospital, unable to move most of her muscles, left her exhausted and in severe pain, and stumped nearly all the doctors she saw. Finally, after many tests, including a muscle biopsy that sounded incredibly painful, KT was told she had Myositis. Don’t know what Myositis is? Neither did I! Myositis in its various forms is considered an inflammatory myopathy—a disease of the muscle where there is swelling and loss of muscle. The inflammation and muscle loss result in weakness and muscle pain. Many Myositis patients alternate between insomnia caused by the severe muscle pain and restless leg problems, and bouts of over-sleeping borne of exhaustion. In a survey conducted by the Myositis Association, 44% of respondents said that they experienced constant muscle pain, and 43% said they lived with intermittent muscle pain. 76% said they had never experienced remission.
But let me back up a second. Let me tell you about Ms. KT. I first met her when working for a Highly Respected Children’s Magazine which launched a toy catalog for Christmas. KT had worked in the customer service call center for the Magazine, and was put largely in charge of the new call center for the Catalog. She was so friendly, warm and nice from the very moment I met her, I knew I liked her. Turns out she was a heck of a supervisor too! We had a few people in that call center who were T-E-R-R-I-B-L-E. Really, truly terrible. While I longed to hit them in the head with a folding shovel, KT patiently an enthusiastically coached them…including the girl who repeatedly fell asleep, head thrown back to snore, and even the girl who told customers, “It will be a minute while I process your credit card. I mean, we have to make sure you didn’t steal it or max it out or anything. So hang on while I make sure you have enough money for this.” Again, she was patient and didn’t even attempt to throttle her with a telephone cord or anything.
Over time we grew to be friends outside of work, and I met her two Gigantic Cats, who are beautiful, and her itty bitty niece who was even lovlier. KT put up with my Ethel Merman obsession, introduced me to Krusteaz muffin mix and shared her love of Live.
We moved to Wisconsin, and KT moved up in the Highly Respected Magazine, eventually moving to another call-center based company as a supervisor. Then, she got sick.
Myositis is a disease of limits—how long you can stay awake, how long you can stay asleep, how far you can walk, how much pain you can take. I know that KT lives with constant muscle pain, at times more severe than I can fully imagine. She has seen her life go from independent career woman to living with her parents. She puts up with stares from random shoppers when she has to use a cane or wheelchair (and the “you don’t look sick” look when she legally parks in the handicapped zone). She has long periods of slow improvement which can end with a relapse, and a slide down the mountain to start over again. The frustration and disappointment must be overwhelming at times, but one of the best things about KT is that she is never bitter. She doesn’t mope around in Why Me mode, doesn’t devote her energy to longing for her old life back and thinking about what she has lost, but rather puts her energy toward getting a little better every day. If I were in her shoes, I’ve no doubt I would be a photographic negative of KT. I would be every bit as bitter, negative, angry and inconsolable as she is upbeat, positive and accepting.
I admire her more than I have probably ever told her, and look to her as an example when my diabetes care starts to feel like more than I can handle. Despite everything, KT is a terrific aunt to her gorgeous nieces, went on a Disney cruise, which I’m not nearly brave enough to try, is as supportive a sister as you can be, and still manages runs a website to raise money for Myositis awareness and education. I can't even keep this blog updated. KT, you're making me look bad ! :)
Most people, and some doctors, have never heard of Myositis. It is difficult to diagnose, and it is not uncommon for people to go years with incorrect diagnoses (including the famous it-is-all-in-your-head) before anyone figures out why they can't get out of a chair or climb a flight of stairs. There is no cure for Myositis, and for some people, very few treatment options. The more people hear about Myositis, the more money can be collected for research, and the sooner a cure can be found.
Won’t you take a few minutes to learn more about Myositis by visiting the Myositis Association? You can watch a great feature about the disease on Retirement Living TV.
And last but not least—it all comes back to Fabio. A family friend of Fabio has Inclusion Body Myositis, and Fabio discusses its devastating effects. As he points out, most drug companies are not eager to pump money into Myositis research, as the market for such drugs, 30,000-50,000 people, is relatively small compared to cholesterol drugs, which bring in over $20 billion annually. I know I make fun of the Fabio-meister, but I also like to give credit where credit is due. He is doing some good work here, helping to raise both awareness and money for this deserving cause. I can only hope that my 17,000 calls to Fabio Phone will keep him Not Believing It Is Butter for years to come.
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