Thursday, February 7th, 2008 09:13 am
Hour and a half to get into work today.

Interview in 45 minutes.

It's three blocks away. I think I'll give it fifteen minutes, just in case.
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Thursday, January 31st, 2008 09:16 am
Re: Silver Snail--this doesn't mean I won't try going by again! Sorry, that was unclear.

The temp agency gave me a raise. Tiny raise--3.866%--but hey, it adds up to a large fluffy coffee every workday, if I want one. As I am sitting here drinking buck-a-cup coffee from downstairs since our kitchen isn't unpacked yet, perhaps I will do something useful with--

--as it *just* dawned on me that hey, I think I missed the last Lupercalia update decant circle. Oh well. :)
Tuesday, January 29th, 2008 11:05 am
(1) Goddamn the professional movers are *fast*. I was expecting this, but it's still impressive.

(2) Have I mentioned the property manager cum landbeast is an ass? Just sayin'.

(3) Passed test for writer/editor position at Justice Canada. Interview next week.

(4) Books. They're all packed. So faint... so textless... *swoon*
(Seriously, though, I have Unhallowed Metropolis and the latest issue of The Willows set aside to finish. But *damn* I feel weird with no books or computer[1] to speak of.)

(5) There is no five.

(6) Movie tonight, maybe. Or something. Not at home, because we have about twenty boxes and an upended table in the living room. There will be pictures.
(The stack of boxes is topped with a beanbag chair. The beanbag chair is topped with a cat. Angel is now *totally* fine with this situation.)
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[1] Am currently on John's laptop.
Friday, January 18th, 2008 12:33 pm
Okay. First, the mortgage. They got back to us, and it *was* a case of strange arcane deductions badly explained. They calculated provincial tax on the insurance, then deducted that tax from the amount they were going to loan us, so of course when we're checking the insurance amount it's off, because it's calculated on the-displayed-amount-of-the-inexplicably-shrunken-loan-plus-0.160256-percent-of-said-displayed-amount.

(Somehow, I really don't feel bad about needing an explanation for this. A sentance with the general gist of "This amount represents your mortgage loan of $X after the $Y PST on the CMHC insurance has been deducted." would have avoided *so much* stress.)

A/y. Started looking at another option during the whole kaffuffle. Either way, am no longer really upset.

========

Second, had to go back for the third time today over a miswording in a document. I'd brought it up twice before, and it hadn't been fixed--I really got the impression that the people I was talking to didn't get why it was a problem.[1] So I ended up hauling out the Oxford and sitting down across from someone who is just way ahead of me in terms of pay grade, seniority, responsibility, and any other practical measure of standing in an organization, while my job duties don't *technically* cover any kind of editing work.

I think the explanation took this time. I would repeat myself this much if the situation came up again. But it falls firmly into the Not Fun category, and if it's not fixed this time, I'm backing off. What I tell you three times is true, and all that. Past that point, I'm cutting my losses.

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On a lighter note, found that Tria markers, Microns, and gel pens combine with cheap wooden boxes pretty well. So if you have five minutes you can stain the box a rather pretty grim green, have "Goe, and catche a falling starre,/Get with child a mandrake roote" written across the top in dim gold, and toss a 3/4"-high sketch of the mandrake from the 1485 Herbarius on the side.

(I found someone to take my bottle of BPAL's Mandrake, and tossed that in. Therapeutic little spur-of-the-moment smallcraft. I wanted the stuff to work on me, but it just ended up smelling like pencil shavings--very much not the donne thing at all.[2])
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[1] "To prejudice X" is not at all interchangeable with "to cause others to be prejudiced against X". I know everyone's really busy and really tired, and I might've let a smaller detail slide after the first time I submitted a correction. But that is just *wrong*.
[2] Yes, yes, I know, but I've had that line rattling around in my head for three days. My LJ, my horrible painful puns.
Tuesday, January 8th, 2008 04:03 pm
I now own the world's absolutely saddest poinsettia.

It was procured for a coworker sometime around the Christmas holidays, in a standard plastic pot in a lovely bright red-metallic cheery plastic wrapper, and faithfully watered. Probably not daily. Maybe every other day. And its cheery plastic wrapper was basic, if functional--a square centered on the base of the pot, and gathered around the top.

A *waterproof* square.

Poinsettias, I have just learned, require watering perhaps once a *week*.

The poor thing squished when I picked it up.

I've just finished peeling off the festive plastic wrapping and draining the pot, although I think I'm going to need to change the paper towel its sitting on at least twice more. And I brushed at the dead leaves, and a couple of the branches sort of fell off. It's currently a very skinny-looking plant.

If it survives, I think I'll call it Fred.
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Wednesday, November 7th, 2007 10:15 pm
I need 200 words in response to "Do you have administrative experience in a federal government department?"

I suspect that writing "hell yes" 100 times doesn't count.
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Tuesday, October 30th, 2007 06:10 pm
(1) [livejournal.com profile] commodorified bought me a copy of Eats, Shoots & Leaves. No, I didn't already have one. Yes, I love it. :)

(2) {Local} The public library[1] has a copy of James Lovegrove's Days. This is good, as all my efforts to lay hands upon a copy for lending out to people have failed. I will continue to scour the used bookstores. Meantime, I *really* recommend this one.

(3) Picked up a book at the library called My Work Is Not Yet Done, attracted by the screamy-face on the spine. (SF/F and mystery have their own categories for hardbacks. Horror does not. Horror paperbacks are shelved waaaayyyy over in the corner on a shelf marked "Horror/Western", a label which always makes me smile.) Dustjacket had no information (beyond the author's name, Thomas Ligotti--yes, I have heard of him). Frontispiece, on the other hand, had the subtitle "Three Tales of Corporate Horror".[2]

This will suit my mood, I think. Work has gotten a little odd lately.
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[1] Where I have recently renewed my card, see (3).
[2] Also, the information that the book was published by Mythos Books, LLC, which got me to look up the entity in question. Looks potentially interesting, if not as easy to work through as Subterranean Press.
Wednesday, October 17th, 2007 04:27 pm
I have spoken to many hotels in my life.

Most have had airport shuttles. A few have not.

Somehow the conversation wherein I find out that there are no airport shuttles takes on a degree of surreality when I hear someone say "$HotelName[1], bonsoir" while the sun is *clearly* shining upon the surroundings.

(My surroundings. Not theirs.)

Also, I now know more than I ever through I would need to about how to get from Charles de Gaulle airport to central Paris. And in knowing, know that I know nothing.

This knowing of nothing may explain why no-one to whom I have sent my carefully compiled list of options for getting from CDG to downtown Paris actually bothered to read the thing. I fume.

EDIT: Okay, half of them did not read it. The other half thanked me kindly for my efforts. I am considerably mellowed.
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[1] I understand that correctly speaking, this should be $HOTELNAME. I can't do it. The long-inculcated habit of not using allcaps is apparently too strong today.
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Thursday, October 11th, 2007 04:17 pm
Feeling better. Made it in to work.

Of course, it was busy enough that I'm just finishing my lunch break now, and yes I work standard 9-to-5ish hours.

When all's said and done, shutting the door and digging up videos from The Sisters of Mercy for half an hour while I create snarky office captioned pictures[2] and curse misspelled crosswords[1] does help.

Much e-stuff to catch up on later. For the moment, I have 45 minutes left to get through...
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[1] Seriously. "Loadstar" is not another term for "guiding light". "Lodestar", yes.
[2] The Bates Motel. Subtitle: "Why yes, we are on the approved accommodation list for government travelers..."
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Tuesday, July 17th, 2007 11:04 am
--but you can call me the Killer of Trees.[1]

I don't think my supervisor exactly believed me when I told him how much he was asking me to print. Or possibly he didn't realize that I meant the *big* binders.

Anyway. I'm tripping over people on LJ, which is fine, and recognizing them, which is starting to seem rather odd. I know Ottawa only has four hundred people[2], but do they really all know each other?

Bored. Thinking about ordering BPAL. Thinking I should call the vet about Toby's remains[4]. Thinking about spending my lunch break going out for coffee, and how odd it is that for all the people I associate with downtown, none of them really live there. (The people I know who've got a long history of living there or within quick strolling distance of it, I don't associate with downtown. Strange.)
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[1] And if anyone except possibly [livejournal.com profile] oni_neko gets that one without benefit of Google, I will be stunned.[3]
[2] ObNote: With extras for the street scenes.
[3] Oh my god, those stories are still online. I remember them from... yeesh... before I had residential internet access, so before I got out of high school... back when I had a pageful of handwritten URLs on notebook paper... when I was incidentally learning HTML by saving web pages I thought were neat to a floppy disk and taking them home and opening them up to read with WordPerfect 5.1... before I had e-mail besides NCF... sweet Christ I'm getting old.
[4] The return of said remains. I mean, it's not like I've been keeping him in the fridge or anything.
Monday, July 16th, 2007 09:15 am
Content free. )
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[1] Although seriously, this place keeps throwing me in terms of what's work suitable. I would've *sworn* bare shoulders were out in a FedGovOff. I mean, even for people without tattoos on their upper arms.
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Friday, April 27th, 2007 10:20 am
Didn't sleep well. Got up, ate breakfast, had coffee, and *then* called work to say I was going to be in late. Fell over, slept (right after drinking coffee? still confused) for a solid hour, and had one of those long coherent dreams that I never manage to get back to so I never find out how the story turned out. Got up feeling like I'd managed a good night's sleep in that one hour, hit work, and found out they didn't have anything for me to do. I'm currently sitting around waiting to be called out for light pack-mule duty.

I suppose it is a good thing they didn't need me, as it means I did not inconvenience anyone by being in late, but it's still a little--is envaguening a word? Promoting an impression of vagueness, lack of definition or direction?

In other news, realized last night that I have several folders of tax stuff I can now shred. (The shredding is not compulsory. But they are now older than CRA's required period for keeping records, if I get rid of them then I will have more space in the filing cabinet, and hey! We have a paper shredder! Every time I look at the things I'm reminded of Leiber's description in Our Lady of Darkness about how they sound like time clearing its throat.)

Anyways. Hopefully there will be duties to fulfill soon.
Thursday, January 4th, 2007 12:38 pm
System is given information. System creates six-digit file number with a set three-letter prefix.

File number is *editable*.

Have just discovered four different electronic files records, with four different sets of information, for one file. Expect at least another dozen such file record duplications, possibly two dozen. Especially since while system will not *generate* a duplicate file record number, it does not prevent you from editing an existing file record number to turn it into a duplicate.

EDIT: Oh, my mistake. Apparently the system will *happily* generate duplicate record numbers.

Ye gods and little fishes...
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Saturday, December 9th, 2006 03:13 am
I had a hell of a day, in that long, drawn-out, hell-as-absence-of-good-things sense.

I came home late and gave Toby medicine, and let him out of the bathroom for a bit. I put him back in the bathroom when I fell asleep on the hallway floor and he woke me up by walking over me to get into John's room.

Then I went to bed for just a few minutes.

Three hours later, I woke up from a series of work-related vague and bad dreams and discovered it was 10:00. I fed the cats and... I don't know. Vegged for a bit. I can't remember exactly.

Then we went out to Boston Pizza for dinner, and I rediscovered that (1) food helps, (2) good company and conversation helps, and (3) you can get alcoholic drinkable versions of those red-white-and-blue Rocket popsicles. It was a good way to celebrate pointedly quitting. (I have never done this before. I think it was a good thing, but it throws me a little.)

Now I'm going back to sleep.
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Thursday, December 7th, 2006 07:35 am
So, yesterday I went through most of the work required for quitting (contacted agency, explained I was not staying past Friday, wrote down and e-mailed description of situation, left them deciding whether or not they were going to place someone else in the same situation).

Today, I get to speak to my on-site supervisor (who was not in yesterday, and who I really feel bad about leaving on such short notice) and tell her that I am leaving and why.

Brain says it should be okay. Back of brain is conjuring assorted horror scenarios, but when looked at calmly they all boil down to "The co-worker you are having trouble with will say nasty things about you, and your supervisor will believe her."[1]

I actually do not think that's likely, and I think I can handle it if it happens.

So. Goal: be speaking to my supervisor in one hour.
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[1] Variations include such things as "They will tell you to get out on the spot, at which point John has promised to give you a ride home and you get Friday and most of Thursday off", which simply doesn't seem that scary when laid out that way.
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Wednesday, December 6th, 2006 02:44 pm
I am having stress with a co-worker (not someone in my group, but someone my group is supposed to support).

Last night, I got a message from the last place I worked at, asking them to call me. So I called them back and left a message (as it was after working hours) with my current work number.

This morning, I got in late (after being depressed to realize I was actually procrastinating on going in due to the aforementioned stress), and dealt briefly with the aforementioned co-worker.

It was officially really bad stress.

So I sat down and calmed down and decided that really, this is it and contining to work here is simply not tenable. (I have worked in bad places before, really. This one takes the cake, and as far as I am concerned it can now keep that metaphorical cake all to itself because I am not staying here.)

And I went to check my work phone messages, and found out that I had a job offer for the last place I worked at, starting Monday if I wanted it. Going through a ton of files and checking details and making sure that everything which should be in the new system is in the new system, which is exactly the sort of mellow detail-oriented work that is probably not deeply emotionally satisfying but will keep me content, in an office where I don't have to deal with the above-mentioned co-worker.

This is so good right now that I cannot help but feel I should go get the attention of some great anthropomophic personification of Passing And Coinciding Events and tell them that really, I love the way this story is working out but maybe they might want to be a little more subtle in the future, 'cause situations this bad aren't resolved by news this well-timed and good.

(Are they?)

I feel saved.

This more than anything else conveys to me how bad it was.

Even if the job offer doesn't work out for some reason, I'll be okay.
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Tuesday, December 5th, 2006 08:39 am
In fact, I am beyond displeased. Put out, perhaps. I wish I could say I was wroth--wroth is a sadly underused word--but I'm actually not.

I booked the morning off to take my reading and writing tests, and got to the PSC site to discover that my name (along with that of about three other people so far) was actually not on the list.

So I came home to pick up my backpack and ID for work and to call and let the person who scheduled the test know that there had been a problem.

(And it is apparently a good thing that I stuck around and vented, because she *just* called to promise me that she'd call PSC and e-mail me the confirmation of my registration, so I'm going to try and catch the second test of the two.)
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Monday, November 20th, 2006 04:00 pm
I could complain about the day, but it would make no sense.

However, it boils down to "What do you mean we are all playing a LARP in which we have each been told what we need to do, and have been told to create our own special rulebook to allow us to do this?"

"And each of us is using our own rulebooks, and now we have to make rules calls on how they interact with everyone else?"

"By the way: Totally Custom Disciplines."

"In *French.*"

"(Not all of us speak French. We had to write the rulebook in it anyway.")

.

..

...I'm actually kind of enjoying it all, as it's all budget stuff (the French is simply an example of certain key things *not being explained to people*, and thus essentially being in a foreign language).

But I will be very very glad to get home.
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Tuesday, November 14th, 2006 09:40 am
I started here on Wednesday.

This morning (to be fair, no-one was in yesterday, including myself), I came in and turned on my computer in a fit of optimism.

It said "Operating system missing".

They took it away for electroshock therapy or brain transplant or whatever-the-hell. I got the password to the workstation of someone who's not in today.

Poor poor thing. It was working fine when I arrived, but sometime after they relocated the old image to the previous owner's new machine, it died. No partioning, and now no OS.

I brought two books today.
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Thursday, November 9th, 2006 12:05 am
My brain is grinding like a car with a frozen battery.

I had very very little to do at work today--no computer, some photocopying. Also, last week's paycheque has not come in. I am... stressed. Not very much, as all bills are paid and no further deductions need be made until month's end, but I would still like it to show up.

Despite working out at Tunney's Pasture, it looks like it might still be cheaper for me to buy tickets rather than a bus pass. This will amuse me when I have unwound.

Have nailed down a room reservation. Must go shopping.

Stressing about the weekend.
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