from kj

"Up to their bums in alligators!"

I know what you are thinking, "who uses that phrase??" Well, those in the field do, my friend. I heard this over a phone conference this morning. One of the "higher ups" used the phrase (several times, might I add) and I am flabbergasted. How do you respond to that? "Why yes! Yes they are!" It amazes me, what comes out of people's mouths. I was in a phone conference to decide how we are going to run business out of one of our main offices, located in a devastated area in Florida. Hurricane Wilma will not stop us, apparently. I feel bad for my counter-part down there, who has no roof and her bosses are trying to get her into the office.

Hurricane Debbie
There is a force in my office. It comes by with little warning and terrorizes all parties involved. Here name is Debbie Devilhorn, and I compare her to a hurricane. She is also the devil, disguised in an insurance agent outfit. She is one of the worst people I have ever met- and I have actually only spoken to her over the phone and via email. I picture her actually having devil horns. You are supposed to keep good relations with the people you deal with on a daily basis, but she seems to think making insane comments and yelling over email (caps lock, bold, etc.) is the way to handle every situation. She relentlessly places blame on everyone but herself, because of course, she is perfect. When things really make her angry, she brings personal issues and problems into the matter, as if to propagate guilt. News coverage has given me a good idea on how harshly hurricanes roll over land and try to pummel all in their way. Debbie is the same. She tried to destruct, knock down, and whip away, but I have stood tall. In all of her abusing, I have done my best to keep calm, assist where necessary, and let her rages just run their course. I have found that the more you resist her behavior and ignore, the less likely she rants and raves. She continues to scream only if you give in and yell back. Very mature behavior for a professional atmosphere. I guess that is why she is an insurance agent, and I compare her to a door-to-door salesmen. Life is hard for her, and I pity her. If only she knew how to relate to people, she would be a lot better off. I feel bad for her husband, who is an insurance agent as well, but then I realize, "hey, he married her." He built his own hole and is getting burried in it.

posted by kari @ 10:59 AM

Surgery on the Mini Fridge

Poor Gina, the girl whose cube is next to the mini fridge we all share. It frequently smells due to some funky food that has been left behind too long. The smell wafts to her desk and she finds it hard to work. She would burn candles or incense if it weren't against fire code. She is going broke from purchasing air freshener bottles she uses up in days.
She finally reached her breaking point when a pint of week-old Chinese food and a tupperware with un-identifiable leftovers were making her nauseas and no one would claim their origin. She emptied the fridge, telling all to grab anything they wanted to save as she would mercilessly throw away anything left behind. The fridge defrosted over night, and the next morning more food was actually found in the seemingly empty box. Within and beneath the ice build-up, there were popsicles and an ice tray, buried for years. After the dethawing process, maintenance came in with a vacuum and sucked out any remaining ice chips or water. It was a grueling process, but now the fridge is back to sanitary status. We [employees] have signed a contract binding us to cleaning up our leftovers or facing the risk of being banned from utilizing the fridge. Finally, justice for the fridge and Gina.

posted by kari @ 7:20 AM

This email was in response to an email asking about where "Herbert" ripped his pants:

Herbert Cosens
\10/04/2005 01:04 PM
To: Annette Fullerton
cc:
Subject: Re:

right in my private area.

just kidding...just on the leg by my foot. its a big rip. i grabbed a saftey pin from dorothy. wont be walking around to much more today.

Herbert Cosens
Senior Client Coordinator

Now I beg to know how one does not notice when they rip their pants. Its like a rip in pantyhose, you feel the air and something is off. Apparently Herbert was in a bit of an early morning, rush-to-work haze and didn't take time to wake up and smell the coffee. He now has a safety pin attaching the bottom pieces of his pant leg, given to him by a friendly cube neighbor. I imagine it happened during a "Ferris Bueller's Day Off"-principal-breaking-into-home, type of event. Perhaps he was mauled by a dog, and the dog ripped through his pant leg. Though, Herbert did not have any scars. And why would a dog attack him? He is not menacing or threatening. The whole situation makes for a great midday daydream. I have a great imagination at work.

*Names have been changed to protect identities.

posted by kari @ 12:00 PM