this is what happens when you analyze contracts for a living

I’ve always had an active imagination. There are scores of embarrassing stories and pictures to document this fact. I was raised in a family that values kids playing outdoors and in dress-ups, so in my life I’ve swam with the mermaids, joined Belle in a small French village, hosted my own decorating show, delighted the masses with my tasty culinary creations, written novels out of the tiny broom-closet turned office, been several nationalities outside my own, and served as queen over an entire empire known as Secret City, among other things. It follows me in my sleep as I have flown above the fields, traveled to countries I’ve never seen, and saved the world many times over.

But this imagination also has a darker side. I’ve dreamt up murder mysteries, been chased far too many times by a variety of villains, and been party to the worst-case scenario. This, too, has followed me into my everyday life.

For example, this morning. The microwave in our office, seeming so cheery in its red shell, was counting down toward zero. I pressed every button on the screen to turn the timer off, but to no avail. As I waited for my tea to brew, I became more and more anxious as I waited for the microwave-turned-bomb to ignite and destroy our entire office. Heroine that I am, I lunged to unplug the evil machine as was mildly electrocuted in the process. When I go to file for worker’s comp, I will bravely explain, “I was afraid the microwave was actually a bomb, you see. You’re welcome.”

Dear Customers, I am not your biotch...

Amber messaged me this morning and said, where’s your snarky gmail status?

I responded, just wait.

It took until 10:30, which might be a new record.

Our office was reorganized about 10 months ago, and it was decided that our number one priority was customer service – customers being department administrators, professors, and sponsors. The world of contracts and grants administration is pretty convoluted, so even the veteran researchers have questions at times regarding agreements, forms that have to be filled out, etc.

I understand that. But if you would read my carefully crafted email, you would see that I’ve already anticipated all of your needs, concerns, and questions, and made you feel like the most important customer in the world. If only you would read it.

So often , I get responses back that essentially tell me that I’m stupid. I already sent you that, why do you need to know this, the University doesn’t care about this detail. Thank you so much, I write back with teeth clenched into a forced grin (employee handbook page 425), I so appreciate you sending me these documents. Please note below that I actually asked you a completely different question, and it is the law, and has been for some time, that you need to fill out this very complicated form that consists of six whole check boxes.

Sometimes I get a sheepish email response. Oh. And begrudgingly they answer my question, or say they’ll send the form. They never apologize for not reading my email, or admit that it was there fault. The most I get is, I’m sorry for the confusion.

But you see, my friend, there was no confusion. You’re simply a dumbass.

Thank goodness for my fifteen minute break to share this with you all. Please comment with kindness.

Laundry Day

I saved up a month’s worth of laundry for Sunday. I don’t have 30 pairs of underwear, but I am grateful that my mom got me in the habit of hand washing my delicates at a young age. Wouldn’t you know, it would be so windy that small branches and leaves are whipping around the lawn in front of our apartment complex, wafting the smoke fumes from our neighbors' directly into our open screen door. As the Laundromat is right across the street, I don’t feel justified driving just a few feet. However, the look I receive from the driver of a car waiting patiently as I navigate the crosswalk, checking back to see if I have (once again) dropped my underwear in a public place, perhaps I should have driven after all.

I made it right before the Sunday afternoon rush. The next two hours prove to me that I don’t have to move far out of Davis to find America in all of its diversity and adversity.

As I walk in, two women are scolding a young boy in Spanish, as he turns out to be as rambunctious as he is darling. One of them is extremely pregnant, and I marvel at how her protruding belly does nothing to slow her deft motions as she folds the family laundry. Soon, a very tall white man walks in with a woman who appear to be his mother trailing behind, looking pained as she pushes her walker toward the industrial machines. They both look like they’ve lived a hard life, and they have little patience for the boy who is pushing the cart around and around and around with accompanying screeching. A young African American couple occupies the machines next to them, going in and out of the Dollar Store a few storefronts down as they wait for their laundry. They’re pretty cute together, both tall, and it’s clear who wears the pants in the relationship (she does). A woman walks in from the International Market next door with her two daughters in tow; all three wear colorful salwar kameez, and memories of streetside curry swarm around me as I smile at them. The younger girl is shy, but I catch her looking at me later when she’s not flirting with the little boy. A Chinese-American woman who appears about my age politely asks if she can borrow my cart to transfer her laundry (yes – if you give me that adorable sundress in exchange). Another man enters and circles the machines; I wonder if he was looking for the navy sock I found in my own laundry pile a few minutes later.

And all of us are carefully counting quarters as we look to make it through another week.

5 Things You Should Never Be Without

duct tape
can hold just about anything. And now, you don’t have to choose between function and flare – you can have both! My current favorite is the groovy tie-dye pattern. You can even use it in place of a bra for tricky wardrobe situations

a sharpie
It just makes you feel powerful. Useful for sending a message and filling in the scrape on your heels, as well as, you know, general writing.

peanut butter
goes with everything and is a delicious form of veggie protein. Also good for removing gum or using as an adhesive.

febreeze
Makes you smell good without drawing attention to your perfume. Useful for freshening hair, clothing, work station, car…so I don’t usually wear deodorant since I don’t really produce sweat or odor in that particular body area, but I wasn’t thinking when I put on my dress shirt this morning – it doesn’t really breathe. I’m very into hygiene, so even the slightest scent bugs me. But then I remembered HEY, there’s febreeze in the bathroom! Two squirts and the day was saved. Do they make travel sizes?

chapstick
helpful in multiple hydration locations. Also, you can eat it if desperate. Or if you're five years old and allured by the magical cherry scent of Bonnie Bell lip smackers.

Basically, thinking about these things is how I entertain myself during work hours.

My Needy Friend

Fibromyalgia has been a needy friend to me. Sometimes, I just have to give in to it (I haven’t decided yet whether or not it’s male or female, so it’s an androgynous entity for now). I gotta let it have its way, and get back in to bed and cuddle with it, place a heating pad on its aching joints and muscles, and devote all of my attention to it. No other friends or responsibilities may take precedent when Fibromyalgia is at its neediest. But most of the time, I just have to show it some tough love. Kick its butt outta the house even when it just wants to stay in and rest its weary bones. Remind it that others have it much worse, and that it’s not the only thing in my life – just one friend who’s seemed to latch on a little tighter than the rest.

floozy

I've co-opted this word for my own use. It happened like this:

I had a bit of a reaction to my last flu shot, dizzy, slow-minded, nauseous...

I decided that I felt floozy. Not in the urban dictionary definition of the word, but in that I felt like the word sounds. Floooooozy. Say it slowly and roll your eyes around a little to get the dizzying effect.

Diary of a Temp

6:45 am: Alarm goes off. I hit the snooze and open the door for Linus to come in and snuggle (he likes to be the little spoon).

6:55 am: Roll out of bed and lean in toward the shower. Getting some momentum going really helps.

7:05 am: commence the hair drying, makeup application, and dressing processes. When you go to work, it turns out, you have to match.

7:25 am: attempt to put in new contacts.

7:30 am: &*%$ing contacts!!

7:40 am: caffeinate and wait for the truck to defrost

7:59 am: breathe one last breath of fresh air before heading to the gray cubicle, far, far from sunlight.

8:00 am: get to desk, find massive pile of new, continuing, subcontracted, subawarded, incremental, grants to be processed.

Ok, so you’re wondering what exactly I do at this “job.” Sometimes, so do I. Basically, I do a lot of data entry and correspondence on grant applications and awards for the University. Often times I still have no idea what the project is about after reading the title, but that doesn't matter. I just have to figure out where the money is coming from and where it goes, using this scary tracking system with NO undo button and a binder of procedures heavy enough to defend against an attacker (ok, maybe only if the attacker was me, but that’s my frame of reference so give me a break). One of my gray cubicle walls is decorated with procedures, percentages, and formulas for the different types of research projects depending on who funds them and where they take place. I get to do MATH at my job, though I can’t quite figure out all the functions on the very old calculator at my desk. And did I mention that there are a LOT of acronyms at this job??

10:00 am: step away from computer screen. I have to set reminders to get more tea or go to the bathroom; otherwise, I forget. (“Um, guys, the temp peed on the carpet…”)

11:59 am: is it too early to leave for lunch?

12:00 pm: LUNCH TIME!

Because this office is so understaffed, everyone is overworked and hardly anyone takes lunch. I felt super awkward my first day, but have since embraced the chance for a quick nap in the space behind the seats of my truck. Nobody can see in unless they press their faces up against the glass, which is creepy anyway. This weekend I’m gonna add in some cushions and a pillow. Sometimes Albert comes to eat with me, too (giggle).

1:00 pm: return to a new massive pile of grants to be processed. OH WAIT, I never finished the first pile…

Thank goodness for Pandora. I’ve created a number of stations while working at different offices, but the one currently getting the most play is mainly comprised of musical numbers. I won’t disclose all of the titles, but there is quite a bit of Glee, Hairspray, and Lea Salonga. Pandora seems to think that my love of Glee indicates similar positive feelings toward Miley Cyrus and Hilary Duff, both of whom I’ve had to ban from being played ever again.

2:00 pm: cookie break.

2:05 pm: realized that the red sprinkles on the cookies turn my fingertips and lips pink.

2:10 pm: check clock and am a little dejected to see that it’s only been five minutes since the last time I checked what time it was.

3:47 pm: wonder when the last time I talked to a person was?

4:30 pm: One of the advantages of being a temp over an intern is that nobody expects me to stay late. Having been an intern on so many occasions and having natural workaholic tendencies, I’m accustomed to staying late to finish projects. But wait, I’m a temp! In 30 minutes, I am Out. The. Door.

4:58 pm: Some days I’m still chugging away on a project, which keeps things moving fast and works well with my ADD – so many things to check and process. Other days, when I’ve managed to finish what projects I have, I stare at the computer screen and let me eyes go unfocused until the big

5:00 pm

flashes across my screen.

5:10 pm: I forgot what it feels like to work 8 hours. I’ve also never worked a job that was required such little human interaction. I have to admit that the work I’m doing is actually pretty challenging, and requires keen attention to detail. I actually have the power to mess up contracts and setting mankind back thousands of dollars. (Ok, I don’t really have that much power, but the point is that these documents are important.) I'm lucky if I can put a sentence together after 5:15, and one night, I considered just eating a head of raw bok choy over the prospect of having to cook dinner. Speaking of which, I'm getting hungry...