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...over-educated and under-experienced, or so they say...

Friday, June 26, 2009

Safety Minute

Moonbeam: (knocks on Pandora's cube wall) Pandora? Does the sight of blood make you queasy?

Pandora: (puts down her pen and turns around) ...excuse me?

Moonbeam: Does the sight of blood make you queasy?

Pandora: Why are you asking me this right now?

Moonbeam: Because I need your help with something.

Pandora: Uh... with all due respect, Moonbeam, my job is to sit here and write words strong enough to withstand battle in a court of law, not to fiddle around with blood borne pathogens.

Moonbeam: Oh my god, Pandora, you're such a kick. It's nothing like that. I just need your help with something.

Pandora: Well, you come up and ask me if blood makes me queasy right before saying you need my help, but... it's got nothing to do with blood?

Moonbeam: Well, you see, I've got this big zit behind my ear and...

Pandora: Wait a minute, what?!

Moonbeam: (turns around and pulls back her ear to show Pandora) ...I have this zit behind my ear and it's extremely painful and I can't reach it well enough to pop it myself so I thought maybe you would help me.

Pandora: Okay... um... first of all, that's a boil, not a zit, and secondly I'm pretty sure that's a safety minute.

Moonbeam: ...a safety minute?

Pandora: Yes.

Moonbeam: How so?

Pandora: Because it's a boil! Boils are infectious, poisonous, toxic, contagious! They are a direct result of Staphylococcus aureus and there is no way I'm going to touch that and expose myself to the dangers of its white pussy contents!

Moonbeam: Hahaha! You are so funny! So.. will you help me?

Pandora: No! I'm dead serious, Moonbeam! That's a safety minute! And seriously, you expect me to stand up here and put my fingers behind your ear and pop that thing?!

Moonbeam: Well, of course not, silly. Use a straight pin or something.

Pandora: ...a straight pin? Am I a seamstress? Are we working in a Bridal Shop? Moonbeam, I'm in a cubicle with maps and legal documents on my desk. Do I look like I have a straight pin?

Moonbeam: (points to the bulletin board) You could use one of those.

Pandora: What? ...a thumb tack? Are you insane? That's also a safety minute!

Moonbeam: What? Why?

Pandora: Because it's unsanitary! It's not sterile! When a doctor sits down to lance a boil he doesn't look at his nurse and say, "We need to take care of this. Would you pass me a thumb tack from the bulletin board so I can pop this thing please?"

Moonbeam: Oh, you're ridiculous. So you won't help me?

Pandora: No. I'm really sorry, but I can't.

Moonbeam: (sees Sunshine take her seat in the cubicle across from Pandora) Sunshine! I bet you'll help me. Nothing scares you.

Sunshine: What? What are we talking about here?

Pandora: I think it's a safety minute.

Sunshine: What?

Moonbeam: Oh, just ignore Pandora. You see, I have this zit here behind my ear and I can't get to it.

Sunshine: What?! You have a what?!

Pandora: I'm telling you, don't touch that thing...

Moonbeam: (turns around to show the boil to Sunshine)

Sunshine: Oh Hell no!! Get the Hell outta my cube!

Moonbeam: But I thought you...

Sunshine: Hell no!! I aint touchin' that thing! Now get the Hell outta my cube! I got work to do.

Moonbeam: (walks away)

Sunshine: She had one too many hits o' acid, that woman. And what's wrong with you, Pandora? I can't believe you didn't stand up and knock some sense into that woman, you be knocking sense into everybody, but you missed the boat on that one. shit... popping people's boils at that office... shit...

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Pandora, Perfectionism, And Mr. Murphy's Stupid Law

I believe, right now, that I am cursed. I have been cursed for days. Thankfully, I'm not cursed by some crazy gypsy lady who wishes my soul be damned to the pits of Hell, but I am cursed none-the-less.

What curses me, you ask? A project. A stupid power point project that I have been working on for days and days and days.

Really, considering the amount of research I had to do for the thing, it has consumed me for weeks now. Last Friday night I had recurring nightmares about the thing -- I kept dreaming that I was presenting the final draft to my boss when I realized the contents of the slides contained elements of my personal life that should not be shared in a work environment. Aaaaa!!!

Aside from dominating my subconscious, the thing has interrupted the flow of my imagination and my creativity. All of the energy I would much rather spend on coming up with something quick witted and somewhat humorous has been spent on placing words on pages in the form a narration about land and land rights (though, I'd have to say, the narrative is worthy of the Discovery Channel, should the producers find they lack material and need to fill a time slot with something no one really cares to know).

Seriously... I am now sitting here in a coffee induced insomniac fit because I came home from work tonight thinking I would finish it up with just enough polish and style to bring it back to work first thing tomorrow morning and be done with it. I would be able to pass the thing off to the people in charge of the visuals and let it go, but no... the damn thing mocks me!

For whatever reason, all the work I sent to my home computer is now lost; "the path" to the file "cannot be found" and I sit here writing in this blog because Murphy's Law has decided to fuck with me and leave me hanging!

Deadlines are looming over my head and tomorrow, when I was so looking forward to leaving this stupid thing behind, I will be sitting at my desk, yet again, perfecting the thing while simultaneously juggling the duties (or at least fooling myself into thinking I'm juggling the duties) of my day to day cubicle confines.

And you are sitting there reading this stupid post and thinking, "She hasn't written anything for days and now I have to read about this stupid thing that I know nothing about nor do I really care or would I care if I even had the chance to care about it." Power Point?! We don't need no stinking Power Point!

Yes, actually, we do. But... instead... we are going to go lie down in our bed and stare at the ceiling and occasionally look at the clock and see how long it takes to fall asleep before the alarm goes off.

All Work And No Play Makes Pandora A Dull Girl. Oh yes, and Wendy, I'm home! Where's the axe?!! Redrum! Redrum!

And to think, I stayed up in prime graduate student style for nothing.

Damn, this is worse than the time I drove out to the school and slipped my final paper under the professor's door at 4:00 a.m. just to keep my "A."

Monday, June 1, 2009

Make A Mental Note Out Of It -- Noise...

...they've been playing this song for years. ...it's a good song, but... i'm not in the mood....played out... hell, that's fourten years of being played out... there's nothing good on any of them, they all play the same stuff over and over and over for years. It's just noise anymore... nothing but noise to fill the space ...white noise... background noise... noise.

the silence is good. somewhat relaxing to hear nothing but the wind traveling over my car, the road rolling under the wheels, the subtle whistle of the air conditioner...

whistle... whistle... hmmm... is that really a whistle? could i really use the word whistle to describe that sound? hmmm... there's got to be a better word for that sound. i could call it a whistle, i suppose, but a reader might think it's the whistle of a breaking air conditioner, and it isn't. it's just the sound of air leaving the vent and keeping me cool... it feels really good right now too.
...nope, not a whistle... i'll have to think about that one.

it is better without the noise though. really. maybe i'll just keep the sound off at home too. muted... everything muted... the mute button...

maybe i should mute myself for a while...push my own mute button. i'm always talking talking talking, always thinking thinking thinking, always looking for the right word and the right way to present it. i get paid to talk.

...yeah, the mute button may be required. especially today, the way i feel right now...

my mind is being pulled in all different directions and i have this huge explosion of creative thought but ... am constantly holding back, saving for later, and all i'm really doing is talk talk talking.

...and somewhere in the background i see Hamlet pacing back and forth with a book in his hands: words words words words words... he pounds the thing... words... noise...

...maybe i should write that down... i better get a pen and write that down before i forget... no pen... No Pen?! what is wrong with me today? i really need to go home and lie down. seriously... i think i'm having a melt down... No PEN? REALLY?! ... Crap! ...No Pen... oh well, i'll just have to keep that picture of Hamlet in my mind until i get home. Crap... i hate it when i don't have a pen...