Blur. Woo-hoo. (January 23, 2008)
Remember that song? It went by so fast and it only made the band name seem more appropriate. Such is my life lately. Since taking the new job on the 2nd, the days have gotten shorter and the stress knot between my shoulder blades has gotten larger. It has really been a long time since I've had a stressful job. I'm hoping that part of it is just being new and that it won't always be a never ending rush to the finish line of 5:00. Time will tell. In the meantime:
There are toys, as in action figures, all over the office. There is a soccer player toy on the fire alarm. A Zena-like warrior on a shelf. A trophy topper is the oddest one, which stands proudly on one of the attorney's door nameplates. I've counted about 15 in all. I asked two of the girls who have both worked there for over a year what the deal was and neither knows. They told me that every other month someone comes in on the weekend and moves them all around, but no one will admit to having done it... or who started it in the first place. Just odd.
Last week, I was handed some micro cassettes and told to "do dictation". I said if that meant listening to an attorney's voice on tape and typing it up, then I knew how. I popped one of the tapes into the large black tape player on my desk and plugged the funky single headphone into my ear. There was one more cord running to the back of my desk. I followed it and it led to a foot pedal that reminded me of something you'd see on a sewing machine. I got up and asked the lady who handed me the tapes what the thing under the desk was for. She laughed and said that I was "cute". Once she realized that I wasn't kidding, she instructed me further and asked if I'd ever seen a dictation machine before. My reply was, "No, I thought that was something they made up on TV". The next hour or two was tremendous fun because if I pushed rewind on the pedal, the voice went backwards in slow motion and the fast forward pedal had an Alvin and the Chipmunks effect. They haven't given me any more tapes. I'm not sure why.
I am the assistant of two very different attorneys. The more outgoing of the two approached my desk and said, "Hey, so I meant to ask you what the deal was behind that snake ring you always wear." I said, "Oh... I have 57 snakes." He paused and then said, "That's a lot of... um... pets." I nodded in agreement and then said, "I actually don't have any snakes." His answer to that was a quick, "Ok, then" followed by his departure. He hasn't asked me any more personal questions. I'm not sure why.
In non-work related news, there were a crap-load (that's a lot... almost like 57 snakes worth) of birthdays this week. One of which is the boyfriend and part of our celebrating was taking a day trip to St. Augustine this past Sunday. We signed up for the ghost tour and I took over a hundred pictures of what appeared to be nothing at the time. Once I've had a chance to blow them up, I'll post another entry going into detail about my new theory regarding "ghost" photos. Earlier this evening I shared a group bday dinner with Erica at Kobe (yum!) and encountered a few more of her friends that are completely opposite of the type of people I normally hang out with. Instead of being super socialites, these were apparently super ignorant. Sorry Erica, if you actually read this stuff. Seriously though, I'll end my blog tonight with a theory they shared at the dinner table as to why Heath Ledger died yesterday. Not because he used drugs, had just played the demanding role of a psycho super-villain in the new Batman movie or gone through a painful divorce and was separated from his child... no, it was because, "he played a gay cowboy in a movie and so God punished him." Some people just blow my mind... and not always in the good way.
There are toys, as in action figures, all over the office. There is a soccer player toy on the fire alarm. A Zena-like warrior on a shelf. A trophy topper is the oddest one, which stands proudly on one of the attorney's door nameplates. I've counted about 15 in all. I asked two of the girls who have both worked there for over a year what the deal was and neither knows. They told me that every other month someone comes in on the weekend and moves them all around, but no one will admit to having done it... or who started it in the first place. Just odd.
Last week, I was handed some micro cassettes and told to "do dictation". I said if that meant listening to an attorney's voice on tape and typing it up, then I knew how. I popped one of the tapes into the large black tape player on my desk and plugged the funky single headphone into my ear. There was one more cord running to the back of my desk. I followed it and it led to a foot pedal that reminded me of something you'd see on a sewing machine. I got up and asked the lady who handed me the tapes what the thing under the desk was for. She laughed and said that I was "cute". Once she realized that I wasn't kidding, she instructed me further and asked if I'd ever seen a dictation machine before. My reply was, "No, I thought that was something they made up on TV". The next hour or two was tremendous fun because if I pushed rewind on the pedal, the voice went backwards in slow motion and the fast forward pedal had an Alvin and the Chipmunks effect. They haven't given me any more tapes. I'm not sure why.
I am the assistant of two very different attorneys. The more outgoing of the two approached my desk and said, "Hey, so I meant to ask you what the deal was behind that snake ring you always wear." I said, "Oh... I have 57 snakes." He paused and then said, "That's a lot of... um... pets." I nodded in agreement and then said, "I actually don't have any snakes." His answer to that was a quick, "Ok, then" followed by his departure. He hasn't asked me any more personal questions. I'm not sure why.
In non-work related news, there were a crap-load (that's a lot... almost like 57 snakes worth) of birthdays this week. One of which is the boyfriend and part of our celebrating was taking a day trip to St. Augustine this past Sunday. We signed up for the ghost tour and I took over a hundred pictures of what appeared to be nothing at the time. Once I've had a chance to blow them up, I'll post another entry going into detail about my new theory regarding "ghost" photos. Earlier this evening I shared a group bday dinner with Erica at Kobe (yum!) and encountered a few more of her friends that are completely opposite of the type of people I normally hang out with. Instead of being super socialites, these were apparently super ignorant. Sorry Erica, if you actually read this stuff. Seriously though, I'll end my blog tonight with a theory they shared at the dinner table as to why Heath Ledger died yesterday. Not because he used drugs, had just played the demanding role of a psycho super-villain in the new Batman movie or gone through a painful divorce and was separated from his child... no, it was because, "he played a gay cowboy in a movie and so God punished him." Some people just blow my mind... and not always in the good way.
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