(*note* lexcorp_hope just replied to comment, so yes, apparently, I *can* comment. Whee! While you're at it, read her Nobody Ever Admits They're a BNF.)
It's on wavelength with the computer of doom at work, that acts like it likes me then won't read my CD-Rs or CD-RWs and freezes up. That baby has more RAM than I have cells in my body, multiple harddrives, nearly nothing on it, the best virus scan protection that someone getting kickbacks could provide, and it fights me on Media Player, of all things.
And EDBC, and explaining why that very acronym makes me bitter would take hours. I'll try seconds. It runs eligibility for certain state programs--taking all hte information you put in and running it through all possible program scenarios to determine what the clients qualify for.
In theory, it Makes Our Lives Faster and Easier and More Enjoyable and will eventually lead to our jobs being outsourced to a needy corporation in India for ten percent of what they pay us. In actual, job-saving fact, it does that about seventy percent of the time. The other thirty percent, you curiously find yourself standing on your desk, screaming about how when the revolution comes, this program and its creators aren't just going to be first against the wall, but you're going to be carrying the katana that pokes them into position in the first place.
This really sucks when you are lead off your desk and reminded your mother helped design the program and to expect a phone call soon.
Mmm. DHS. Yes, I chose a job where the majority of people I meet over the age of thirty have either worked with my mother in The Good Olden Days, were her supervisor, her contact person for policy questions, under her in the development of the program, or at some point spoke to her on the phone. Unless you are lend-lease from El Paso, Edinburgh, or Lubbock, then you don't have a clue, and I like that. But in a few days, you will say "SURNAME! I just spoke to X on the phone! Are you related?"'
Then there's being paged over the intercom when you are just getting some pizza by one of your supervisors because your mother wants to know what's taking you so long.
So you know. Revolution? Probably not going to be able to do it until she retires.
...I was talking about my computer.
It's evil. Both of them.
My sister says, "I'll have him him back by midnight". Foolishly, I thought this meant *around midnight*. Not so much with the two fifteen, at which time his mommy is wired from too much coffee and is being slowly talked down by svmadelyn and nonchop from a multiple frustration high. So you know, no sleep. Took a shower, watched, as the lovely throughadoor put it, the fandom of canonical homosexual chair sex., that specific episode, even, or maybe, just the canonical homosexual chair sex, over and over.
This will probably only amuse about ten people on my friendlist, but still, that's ten.
I had a client from Pennsylvania today, titular home of the canonical homosexual chair sex, and okay, can I make that an icon? Does anyone have caps from that ep I could borrow to *make* that an icon? Anyway. I had a client, and I needed to confirm her benefits were terminated there so we can give them to her *here*.
This is not as easy as say, picking up a phone and calling someone and asking, and having them answer. No. This requires *magic*.
To shorten the story of phone tag, I was transferred around the state, and such services as a mental hospital and a place for people with disabilities took the time to tell me I was way, way away from where I should be, and said it very meanly, too, but maybe that was just me, starting to cry. Eventually, I ended up talking to a nice young man.
"Hi, I'm Jenn, from Texas Department of Human Services, and I need to find out of a client is still signed up for benefits in your state." By now, I didn't even need to breathe ot get that all out.
"Oh, you want the Boulevarde District in Philadelphia."
"Oh, where am I?"
Of course I asked where.
*g* Here is where I was.
Allegheny County Assistance Office Headquarters
611 Pittsburgh State Office Building
300 Liberty Avenue
Pittsburgh, PA 15222-1215
There's also a Liberty District, when I started scanning the contact site that desperately tried to steal my soul.
I am a fangirl. I am really a fangirl after two hours Two Hours of phone tag, when Nice Boy gave me a phone number to an actual supervisory person, whose voice mail let me transfer to someone who was capable of operating a telephone with the lifting and the talking, sending me to a person who said the caseworker was out, but the alternate might be here, culminating with me talking to a supervisor of the alternate, maybe, who said, why yes, she had benefits.
On the upside, I got them canceled as of the end of June, so good for me, so she can start getting them in June.
And it was only afterward I squeed senselessly. Really.
I'm so glad I don't have to pay the long distance bills, though. Seriously, PA has a problem with 1-800 numbers.
*munches on cookies in the happy*
Note: In the future, I will copy/paste all entries to Word, especially when I think I don't have to.