My Job...

I work for a company here in Minnesota as an account manager. We work with educational publishers to create media and other packaging, and I handle a bunch of divisions that produce Science, technology, and nursing materials. Among other things, my main task is order entry, which sucks worse than anyone could ever know. So I have to find ways to brighten up my day. Little victories. One of my favorite past times is abbreviating. See, we have a limited amount of space in our system to put things like Author name or Title of book into the database, so oftentimes I have to find the best way to get a 35 character title down to 12 spaces. Not easy to do, but it's the most brain activity I get all day. I also have another habit of making my abbreviations as dirty as I possibly can. For instance, today I had the Windows Analysis Toolbox. Pretty simple right, just do your job Dayve and shut the fuck up. Well, I decide it needed to read "ANAL TOOLBOX". I had another one the other day titled Ballistics Assembly Planning for Small Planes. I have no idea what that is, but I thought It'd be a good idea to change it to "BALL ASS SMALL".

I like to think that someone somewhere down the manufacturing line looks at their paperwork and chuckles to themselves.

Perhaps they even get excited to get product from us because the don't know what kind of hilarity I'll pull off next.

I need to get a real job...

Just Another Night With Steve

My brother and I went back home tonight for a quick visit. We were sitting around talking with my dad and my brother asks him what he's doing for the Super Bowl on Sunday. Here's his response.

"I have to referee two games tomorrow night and then I have games Saturday. Sunday I have two games. Hey, what are you guys doing for the Super Bowl?"

Notice he gave us his whole weekend, except for the part we asked him about. And then, like some brain injury patient, he's forgotten what we asked him. Genius.

And when I tell my mom about this story, and how I'm going to write about it later on (and previously we've told her she is a topic of this very popular blog, which she refuses to read), she says "You're blog must be really boring."

In fact, Carolyn, my blog is very popular. In some circles.

But on Second Thought...

One thing I do love about showering in the morning, is right when I'm done, I get to use a Q-tip. Now, I should explain that for the last few years I haven't had to pay for many household items. It's one of the perks to living at home. Things like paper towels, dishes, sheets, and curtains all used to be things I didn't give a fuck about. And I was cool with that arrangement. But now, I have to do all the shopping for myself. And since I'm poor like the rest of America right now, I look to buy the cheapest, store-brand items I can find whenever I'm at Target. Or worse, Wal-mart.

Which brings me to the Q-tips. I've just discovered the Target generic brand of Q-tip. I know I shouldn't call them Q-tips, since that's a brand name, and the people at Q-tip Inc probably want some kind of royalty for using it. But I fucking hate the word "swab", so I'm damn sure not using "cotton swab", which is like ten times worse. In any case, I'm blown away by these things. They're like little pillows for my ears. I'm pretty sure I could jam these things all the way into my ear and it wouldn't damage a thing because they're so soft. In fact, my brain might thank me for giving it a little pillow massage.

Maybe the fact that a Q-tip is the most exciting part of my day means I need a hobby...

February Showers

I've just moved into a new place after about 4 years with my parents/old roomates. It's been a little bit of an adjustment for me. New routes to work, new routines after work, having to clean and wash dishes again. But by far, the biggest adjustment has been my morning shower. The new place I live in has one of those small stand-up showers with no tub, which I've never had in any of my houses before. Even the dorms I lived in freshman year had more space than my new shower. And the new shower is tiny, I think it's made for elementary schoolers or midgets.

The thing that I cannot get used to is the shower drain being right in the middle of the shower floor. I don't know why, but I hate stepping on that fucking drain. It's not a dirty shower at all, but somehow I feel like instantly it'll give me some kind of flesh eating bacteria and I'll lose my foot to a gangrenous infection. So, here I am each morning, in a shower made for a baby, trying to avoid stepping on the drain. It's like an uncoordinated dance that I have to do while I'm still half-awake. One of these days I'm going to stumble and come crashing through the shower's glass door.

So, if in a couple weeks you should hear of me dying in a horrible shower incident, please know that it wasn't due to diabetes, or trying to snap one off in the shower. No, it's because I was scared of a drain.