Lisbeth is faced with decisions

So, you know how people say they going batshit insane? I am there. I am in Batshit, IS (that’s the official postal abbreviation for the state of Insane) (admitted to the Union in 1836, but you knew that, right?), doing anything to avoid working on the actually-needs-to-be-done-ASAP project that necessitated purchasing both Adobe InDesign and the Entire Chalet Font Collection. Need it within the next week? Umm, okay, what’s new on Boing Boing? You mean you want it before I leave for Florida on Thrusday? La la la….not listening!
I just really, really don’t want to go through all eleventy-bajillion pages (um, okay, fine. 136 pages, but still…) fixing all the issues editing had with it, and also fixing all the font issues (did you know that just because the fonts are named the same doesn’t necessarily mean that InDesign will recognize them as the same font? Me neither! Bah!). Don’t we have someone to do this crap?

Oh, you mean that $750 you pay me (after deductions for my shiny new 401k, my insurance, my unreimbursed-medical pre-tax savings account, taxes, medicare, blah blah blah) every so often is to compensate me for doing this drudgery? Are you sure? There’s no one else we can pawn it off on?

Fine. I’ll do it. I won’t like it though. And I might have to go whine about it to someone (or the internets or something).

Where I work, I’m sort of supposed to be the person who knows the product inventory. I’m the person they call to say, “Hey, does this set work with this activity pack?” In order for me to answer that question, I need to have a substantial inventory of product at my fingertips - not out in the warehouse or in storage in Timbuktu. Unfortunately, I don’t have this right now, mostly due to a lack of suitable space to keep everything organized.

A while back, I asked for what I call a teacher cabinet. Really, it’s a metal storage cabinet, similar to this one. It was finally delivered on Wednesday, although it wasn’t pre-assembled. So, I had to go get it, and I’m working on putting it together. The back, sides, top and doorframe are all together. Getting them that has not been fun. I still need to put in the bottom, and then hang the doors. Then, I’ll need to put the handle/locking mechanism together. Finally, I’ll put in the shelves, although I suspect those will be the easiest part of the asssembly. Once it’s all together, I’ll shove in into my office, and begin to fill it up with sets and activity packs and teacher guides and reference books. Wooo! I’ll finally have a product library!

And so, a new moring begins. A new morning, fresh with opportunity, there and waiting for you to make the best of the coming day.

You should have seen just what I did with that opportunity yesterday.
I took delivery of a 15.9 pound box (late, I might add, since the hotel staff is, well, large, and therefore sort of unorganized).
I dropped said box from the middle of an escalator all the way to the floor (an escalator in a convention center - so it was a wee bit taller than usual, okay?).
I turned around and ran down the up elevator, twisting my ankle a little as I jumped down the the floor.
I threw my backpack down so I could retrieve the box from the tiny space between the escalator and the floor (did I mention that I carry a laptop in my backpack? In the backpack I just threw down on the floor? Oops.).
Then I finally get the box back and take it into the exhibit hall, and (suprise!), some of my models have fallen apart. Sheesh. What a way to start the day.

Anyway. The day went pretty well, and actually went by pretty quickly considering it really wasn’t a short day (although today is an hour longer - my poor feet!).

We had dinner at an italian place right around the corner from the convention center, and I had gnocchi for the first time ever (in a tomato vodka sauce), and it was sooooo good. I sort of always figured I’d like it I ever got a chance to try it. The only thing I could complain about is not being able to finish a half-order! I could barely even finish half my plate. Oh well - better into the trash than onto my belly!

So.
Philadelphia.  The City of Brotherly Love.  No brother has given me any love so far.  I guess that’s actually probably a pretty good thing. 

We had an uneventful flight, although there was a little worry for me at the beginning when the dude in the seat next to me tried to start up some small talk.  Um, mister?  See how I have this big thick book I’m reading?  See how I’m avoiding making eye contact and giving curt, one-word (or one-grunt-ish) answers?  See how you are wearing purple glasses (Seriously.  Purple glasses. Purple!  Who is he trying to be?)?  Geez.  Figure it out already - I don’t really want to talk to you (hmm…maybe that was some brotherly love and a I just defenestrated it! [Go ahead - see what it means.  Isn’t that a great word?]).

- - -

So we go to set up our booths, and I’m missing one box.  It’s a pretty important box, actually - it’s the box with all my product models.  The box with all the stuff that makes my booth so very cool.  Gah!  After tracking down the guy who is in charge of box delivery and getting nowhere, I called the company that shipped the box from the show last week, and guess what?  I got nowhere with them.  So we called back to the office, and (get this - you’ll never believe it) the box had been shipped there!  Amazing, really, considering that it had the address here in Philadelphia on, oh, 4 of the 6 sides of the box.  Two-thirds of the box was clearly labeled with where it was supposed to go.  So, instead of paying 2-day shipping (or maybe in addition to, who knows?), the company is paying to overnight the dang thing here, and it’s supposed to arrive by early morning.  Who knows what that is, though?  The show starts at 10:00am, so I hope it’s before then.  And I hope the box isn’t too heavy, since I’ll have to carry it 6 or so blocks from the hotel to the convention center.  Sheesh - what a mess. 

I guess that’s what they pay me for, though.

- - -

(Hi Esther!  We’re practically neighbors - at least until I leave on Saturday!)

We had a fire drill this morning at work. 

I realize that fire drills are important and useful things, and that in times of emergency, it’s better for our lizard brains to take over and just do whatever is needed rather than trying to think logically under intense stress. 

But, see, I work in a small building on our corporate campus.  There are 15 or so people in the entire building at any given time. There is only one level (well, I suppose there are stairs at the front entrance, but that’s only because we’re not on completely level ground).  And we knew it was coming, as one of my coworkers had seen other building evacuating and gave us a heads up. 

So - to recap: 15 people, small, single-level building, prior knowledge.  The alarms finally went off, and it was rather underwhelming.  The alarms themselves are, well, anemic at best.  Quiet enough that if I had been wearing headphones, I might have missed it. 

I can’t really understand such quiet fire alarms, especially when I remember the fire alarms in my old dorm.  Those suckers were LOUD - and there were flashing lights in each bedroom.  There was no way you were going to ignore alarms like that, unless maybe if you were passed out from a night of drinking.  I don’t really know, though - I never slept through one.  Once, I even rolled out of my top-bunked bed, my leg still asleep.  I collapsed in a weird sort of numb pain, and struggled to get up and out of the damn room and downstairs to the first floor and it’s exit doors, since even the cold was preferable to the incessant, skull-rumbling blaring of the alarms. 

Anyway, we all made our leisurely way to the appropriate safe place this morning, far away from our building, where our HR director met us and repeated the same warnings everyone has heard so often, as we all stood around not really listening all that attentively.  I did hear him say that we’d also be having a tornado drill sometime later this month.  Finally, we headed back inside.

The tornado drill came all of 10 minutes later.  Gah.