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Mar. 5th, 2003 04:44 pmI'm just under the weather. Just enough that my voice is slightly froggy, and my throat is just a bit sore. Cleaning the apartment a bit last night, I found I was exhausted quickly.
My job is finally settling down a little bit. I've been trapped, nay, imprisoned at the front desk for a long time, now. Oh, woe is me!
Seriously, though, I was getting a little tired of being the front desk lackey and taking not only 100% of the calls coming into the company, but also doing the hundreds of other little tasks that happen throughout the day. In a fishbowl. A damned fishbowl. Glass walls and bright lighting, and me sitting behind a huge reception desk in front of a big white wall. Ugh.
I have got the new woman trained to handle the front desk, and we both agreed that for the remainder of today I could head back to my lovely, cozy, dark, string light-lit desk to answer calls, and she could settle into her new position without me there to oversee it all.
A good deal of snow fell last night, and it was interesting to slog along the sidewalks to the bus stop in my neighborhood. You'd have three yards' worth of carefully-shoveled concrete, and then another few yards of plowed and salted surface. Then, a few houses down, no shoveling done at all - and then beyond that, neatly shoveled and/or plowed.
It's not as if we have front yards here to deal with in this part of the city. It's not like it would've taken more than a few minutes more to work another foot into the neighbor's area, but I can understand cold fingers and noses and aching backs and not wanting to do one centimeter more than absolutely necessary after a hard days' work.
The visual effect was still pretty un-neighborly looking, though.
On tap for tonight is more rest, more relaxation, more cleaning, and hand-washing of clothes. I desperately need to do laundry, but the snow and my feeling under the weather equal disaster, really. Perhaps tomorrow night. I dunno.
Oh, and I have a really cool new bag - an orange Manhattan Portage DJ bag. It rules, and means I am no longer standing crookedly on the train, trying to keep my purse hooked onto my shoulder. I can carry more than one book. I can latch the top flap down and feel less like I am going to be pickpocketed out of my meager bits of cash and lip gloss.
It's a sort of a bright orange, but it's an orange one could learn to love.
+++
My job is finally settling down a little bit. I've been trapped, nay, imprisoned at the front desk for a long time, now. Oh, woe is me!
Seriously, though, I was getting a little tired of being the front desk lackey and taking not only 100% of the calls coming into the company, but also doing the hundreds of other little tasks that happen throughout the day. In a fishbowl. A damned fishbowl. Glass walls and bright lighting, and me sitting behind a huge reception desk in front of a big white wall. Ugh.
I have got the new woman trained to handle the front desk, and we both agreed that for the remainder of today I could head back to my lovely, cozy, dark, string light-lit desk to answer calls, and she could settle into her new position without me there to oversee it all.
+++
A good deal of snow fell last night, and it was interesting to slog along the sidewalks to the bus stop in my neighborhood. You'd have three yards' worth of carefully-shoveled concrete, and then another few yards of plowed and salted surface. Then, a few houses down, no shoveling done at all - and then beyond that, neatly shoveled and/or plowed.
It's not as if we have front yards here to deal with in this part of the city. It's not like it would've taken more than a few minutes more to work another foot into the neighbor's area, but I can understand cold fingers and noses and aching backs and not wanting to do one centimeter more than absolutely necessary after a hard days' work.
The visual effect was still pretty un-neighborly looking, though.
+++
On tap for tonight is more rest, more relaxation, more cleaning, and hand-washing of clothes. I desperately need to do laundry, but the snow and my feeling under the weather equal disaster, really. Perhaps tomorrow night. I dunno.
Oh, and I have a really cool new bag - an orange Manhattan Portage DJ bag. It rules, and means I am no longer standing crookedly on the train, trying to keep my purse hooked onto my shoulder. I can carry more than one book. I can latch the top flap down and feel less like I am going to be pickpocketed out of my meager bits of cash and lip gloss.
It's a sort of a bright orange, but it's an orange one could learn to love.
