Monthly Archives: February 2004


What’s this behind the stack of toner cartridges? I think I found someone’s secret stash. Or maybe Osama’s Hidey Hole.

I sneaked up behind CK to snap a picture of her pretending to count iPod accessories. When she heard the fake click of the digital shutter, she freaked out, turned around and smacked me in the head with her clipboard.

She made up for it later, though, when she drove me to the Mediterranean buffet for lunch. Mmmm…. saffron rice with dark, sweet cherries… pesto hummus and Naan bread… potato salad… delicious.



Yesterday’s Day of Work was relatively uneventful. We are usually “under” on our counts, which means we have to keep looking for missing products so that our dollar amounts even out. This year we were “over”, which meant that we spent most of the day doing drudge work for The Boss.

I didn’t get to sit around at my desk listening to my zesty tunes, because I was out on the floor, sorting through boxes of old software. Instead, I was subjected to KIA’s self-described “eclectic” music. The first song she played very loudly and it caused The Boss to stop talking and get upset. He asked if it was “The Broken Record CD” and CK told him it was King Crimson. He said he didn’t care who it was, KIA needed to turn down the volume or change the music. Who knew it would cause him to get all violent? KIA switched the music to her Peter Gabriel CD and everyone seemed to settle down after that. I walked in to The Bosses Office later and found him listening to Kenny Rogers.

When I got home, I saw that Pregnant Black Cat being let out of Cat Guy’s house, but I don’t think she’s pregnant anymore. She isn’t as wide, but her belly is very low-slung. All my cats are “fixed”, so I’m not real conversant with what cats should look like after they’ve birthed their kittens. Maybe I should take him a six-pack and just ask.


When I talked to a friend of mine about Inventory this morning, he said, “Well call me if you decide to go all Maxwell’s Silver Hammer on someone…”

The Boss stayed at the office while we all went to lunch together at noon. That was nice because we would never voluntarily lunch with anyone else and would never voluntarily socialize with each other outside of work. We walked to a submarine sandwich restaurant in the next block up from work. I thought TAC should drive us there, but my idea was shot down.

While we were eating, KIA looked out the window and said, “Hey, there’s my neighbor. He’s driving a backhoe down the street. This morning he pulled up next to me at a red light while I was on my bike and said, ‘I like your taillights’.”

CK asked, “Was that a euphemism?” The table erupted with laughter.

Even SBC joined in by asking, “How do you know he’s a backhoe man? Maybe he’s a front loader.” Bwa-hahaha!

We trudged back to the office and worked our taillights off, counting stuff that had been mislabeled, looking for stuff that was lost or didn’t exist, digging things that were supposed to have been “written off” out of a box of crap, finding expired ink cartridges for printers that haven’t been made for at least seven years, and so on. SBC mentioned Sofa King, our old boss, and I almost stabbed him in the eye with a Sharpie.

Our director called to tell me about a customer who had phoned in a panic to say they were out of printer paper and it was an emergency. He said that the woman who works the front desk at the warehouse told the customer, “Well, you should have thought about getting that paper before we closed for inventory.” Gasp!

Tomorrow, I go in at 10 and stay until at least 2. I already know I’ll be there later, because The Boss is on his roll about having me take over all this next year. I need to find a countdown thingy for the blog…


Best Line Spoken During Inventory (Friday morning) goes to The Almighty Cthulhu:

“Just write down what the count says on the paper. Ain’t nobody bought this shit since last year’s inventory.”


CK just walked in to my office, so turned up the volume on my speakers and said, “Here’s your retro Song of the Day” while Word Up played. She said she SAW Cameo LIVE in concert. How to top that statement?!

The Boss overheard us talking {which always sets him off} and said, “Here’s MY Song of the Day”. He jacked up the volume of Dennis Leary’s I’m An Asshole. We were stunned in to silence and went back to our dreary labor.


I needed some fresh music at work, so I got Word Up by Cameo, because it’s funny. But to atone for my foolishness (to wear my hair shirt, you might say), I also got Last Nite by The Strokes. I’m looking for zesty tunes to get me through this blasted inventory weekend, so please feel free to give me some suggestions.


On a lighter note, I got a call last night from a Distant Elderly Relative. If you had been in the room with me when I took the call, you obviously would have heard my side of the conversation. Phrases you would have heard would have included the following:

Now is not a good time for me to discuss that with you.
I haven’t thought about that, because it is on my low-priority list.
I don’t appreciate you phoning me in order to insult me.
I won’t apologize for not living my life the way you want me to live it.
We’ve already had this conversation and I don’t care to talk about it right now.
Yes, I received your paint chip suggestions.
No, I’m not painting that bedroom this weekend.
No, it wouldn’t be helpful if you came over and helped me paint, because I’m not painting anything this weekend.
Perhaps we can talk about this another time, because you are driving me to the edge.
I hope you have a good night, because I’m hanging up now.


And here’s another thing I think is wrong. =)

Each time I go to the United States Post Office, I see a lot of reminders for 18-year old men to register for the Selective Service. I have always wondered why only men are required to register. I know their website says that women don’t fight on the front lines, therefore wouldn’t be called in a draft, and that most of the time, there are enough women who voluntarily enlist in times of need. That’s fine. But, I think that if you are going to require a whole segment of the population to register for a possible military draft, you should require ALL of your citizenry to register. That includes the women.

The flip side of this argument, of course, is to require NO ONE to register. I guess there could be a third option, in which everyone serves two years, and that way, we’re all in the same boat. If the soldiers and sailors were paid more and got better benefits, maybe there’d be enough men AND women who would volunteer to serve the country, and the whole Selective Service option could be thrown in to the tar pit with the rest of the dinosaurs.