Description of my day, for posterity.


Wakened after midnight by husband and daughter coming to bed. Daughter has been a spaz all week, doesn’t want to sleep and/or sleep alone. Everyone crowded into bed. Wakened approximately 3 a.m. to move to floor with pillow and blanket. Wakened approximately 3:30 a.m. to nurse daughter. Dreamt vividly of coin-operated laundry machines, and other things I don’t remember. Wakened 5:30, hit snooze alarm twice, turned off alarm, crept into bathroom, turned on the light without closing eyes first. Used citrus-ginsing Suave shampoo and Ivory soap (There’s a dirty doggerel poem that goes with Ivory soap that a little old lady taught me…”She’s young and fresh and full of hope. She washes her privies with Ivory Soap. She’s old and stale and got not hope. She don’t wash with Ivory soap.” I may not have that exactly. I’ve started wearing perfume again recently, “Very Sexy” by Victoria’s Secret. I’m writing this all down, by the way, for future amusement. Dressed with red button-down shirt, spaghetti-shirt bra, black jeans, black socks. Nevermind about the underwear, but yes, wearing some. Pulled hair back with hair tie. No makeup, no hair products. Used toothpaste and deoderant.

Turned off the light, sneaked out of the bathroom, I think Ray crawled back into bed with Lee. I think they were asleep. Tripped over cat at end of hallway, apologized. Turned on kitchen lights. Packed plastic grocery bag with notebook (first draft of Grey Hill), clipboard, banana yogurt. Put on black, clunky boy-shoes, black pea-coat, found purse and keys, left. Drove to different gas station, on Academy, because the one I used to use refused to help me out when I tried to get the car jumped. Mileage along Academy is about eight miles, mileage along Union is four. Bought gas at $1.65/gallon (cheap kind), two Krispy Kreme donuts, and a container of orange juice. Drove to work, five minutes late due to longer route. Oh, well.

Six thirty-five. Someone in a military-seeming uniform with a chevron on the shoulder, a very tall man, standing in the lobby with his arms crossed over his chest. The usual receptionist not present. The usual security guard, who generally is talking, present and silent. I let myself through the three doors using an electronic (?) key card with a current photo of myself printed on it, with my name. Decorations for Valentine’s Day were still up here and there, with each department differing. Quiet morning, it seemed like many people were gone. This is President’s Day. We’re open, but we can’t wire anything because the Fed is closed, and the right of recissions are pushed a day out. I sat at my desk without taking off my coat and logged in to the computer. The other person who works QC, Megan, started telling me about what had happened so far that day. She is a “blue,” one of the details of which means I have to listen to her go off about things, or she may become emotionally upset. She is also a “gold,” one of the details of which means she needs structure. I note this because I had to sit there and listen to her plan out the morning for me, and I was irritated. I like her and consider her a friend, but when she becomes agitated first thing Monday morning I just let her go off for a while and try not to let it drive me nuts. There were several details that had changed over the weekend; the mainframe system of record had been updated without any prior notice, causing a couple of changes that affected our process. By the time I arrived, the workaround had been figured out, but Megan was still upset about it. I confirmed that this wasn’t something that had been in place on Friday and walked a couple of people through the process.

Ate donuts, drank juice, read mail, answered, organized work for the day for about half an hour. Work for the day dominated by work we shouldn’t be doing, i.e., QCing someone being trained by someone else and QCing someone proposed as a candidate for nighttime QC by a lame-duck department manager, someone who is inappropriate for the job. Supervisors both out, one to Iowa for a funeral and I’m not sure about the other. A frustrating day, working very hard not to accomplish what we should be doing. Cleared most of the smaller tasks off my list for the day, cleared out my queue, with Megan’s help. I’m not sure when we’re going to get the time to achieve even half of what we’re committed to for QC, and I don’t know when we’re going to get the time to start on any other project we’ve been committed to, and I was told two weeks ago that I may not claim any hour for working the newsletter from home, so I don’t know when I’m going to get that done. We have no department manager, two of the three supervisors are transition supervisors, the night shift is short-staffed, mismanaging its time, and leaving a ton of carryover (100 files/night)–with a commitment of zero carryover. My opinion is that things would be fine if we had leadership.

Took a break at nine-thirty, wrote. Interrupted twice by people with issues that didn’t need to be addressed by yours truly. I was really in the mood to share some sarcastic comments with a sarcastic friend of mine, but she was out for her birthday. Bitch. Mostly kept to myself, in a black Monday mood. Obviously.

Eleven-thirty, packed up and went home. Sunny day, a little chilly, rapidly getting warmer. Joe’s day off, decided to go to Zorbadillo’s and run errands for the afternoon with him. He’s a very social person, and I try to make a point to go run around with him to do little stuff sometimes. And I love going to Zorbadillos. Lee brought the car seat in for me and I made him sandwiches for lunch. Changed and dressed Ray, put on her shoes and coat. Packed a bag with a bottle of water, a board book (Old McDonald Had a Farm…with Ducks), a plastic elephant, and notebook. Installed carseat, baby, diaper bag, and bag o’stuff.

We went to Zorbadillos….did errands…took a nap…and here I am. I’m tired of typing. TTFN.

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