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The Toybox

people for the conservation of limited amounts of indignation

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my day goes like this
moody cow
So you might ask, why, Jenn, are you home in the middle of the day?

Excellent question. Excellent.

I'll start with this. Yesterday, in our four floor building, all the bathrooms overflowed. Into water. In the hall downstairs. It is a main hall, and there is nothing quite as surreal as coming out of a meeting, coming downstairs, and finding out a.) no bathroom in the building works anymore and b.) guy pushing water across the rugs. They are working today.

This week, the elevator is also broken in a very obvious, creepy way with a half-way open door and an elevator that went a little lower than the bottom floor, solidifying my desire never to get into one. I am telling you, stairs are friendly. Then all day yesterday, mysterious men were up on ladders pulling panels from the ceiling and making me nervous, leading to....

Today, the electricity to my cubicle went out. After four hours, I gave up and asked to go home. Just my and my boss' cubicle were affected, but he could find a stretcher for his surge protector and I couldn't.

The thing is, his first reaction was for both of us, another cubicle! Problem. We save everything to private network drives--that's policy. Nothing is supposed to be on the hard drive but programs. Nothing. Everything stays in our own lettered drive so it's easy to transfer us around, and by easy, I mean, it is easy if you are changing jobs--it's just mapping the drive to the new computer. Harder if not impossible to get someone to do it for like, a day to a new computer, and to be honest, nerve-wrecking because pulling a profile up into a new computer means I need someone to come back and take it away again and my network drive is all my work and email and life for five years at the agency. Some of the programs are also set to our particular place in the network as well, so I can't access Program X from Computer Y using my username and password because it won't recognize me.


I ended up napping in my cubicle, which I am ashamed of, but not really because during a new testing session I do all my paper-type and hard copy work before I start for organizational purposes. I am not just up to date; I reorganized all my testing notebooks and history already in hard copy and did my relabels before this release started. There was nothing to do.

So I am home in my jammies while other people work and get flu shots. Christ, I need a second job. Not even because I really want to spend more time away from work; I need the freaking challenge of doing something.

*sighs* Universe. Gah.

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Why aren't you borrowing Child's Wii right now?

You could always finish up "Burn Notice"...*innocent whistles*

That's a crappy day.

But aren't days like that what fanlore is for? :p

You want another job? Okay, fine. I will pay you ten thousand dollars if you come over here and find that damn software I lost can't find. I can't finish building this damn system unless I find that fucking software!!

Quit snickering. It's around here somewhere, dammit. I ARE ORGANIZED.

I am telling you, stairs are friendly.

That they are. One of the most horrifying social gaffes I've ever committed was to joke with a friend about the elevators in a building being unreliable again, when, as I found out after being stared at by all the other people, said elevevators had just crushed the person servicing them because their shutdown safety hadn't worked. Just before I had entered the building the emergency workers had finally managed to get to the body, who apparently took long time to die, and the poor guy had screamed the whole time, so that everybody who had been in that building before me had heard him die in agony, and they all thought I was joking about *that* rather than just being clueless as to why one side of the elevators was non-functional.

Your building sounds like it's having a systemic failure. Next, bits will start falling off.

You are the second person on my flist who had a flooded workplace yesterday.

Luckily, our bathrooms are half a flight downstairs from our office, due to kooky building layout.

*checks them anyway*

So you do have to sleep. I was wondering if you were like Jack Harkness.

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