a kiss of memory

I was sitting in the courtyard at work, eating my lunch and listening to the sounds of the nearby fountain and the birds singing. Perhaps it was the warmth of the sun that triggered the memory. I have no idea. But once it surfaced... it hit me hard.

It was our second date. I can't even recall now what we did that night. But the evening was over, and we were reluctant to part. We sat in his VW Beetle and held hands. He would trail his fingers up and down the softer inner side of my arm. The thought of that still makes me shiver.

There was very little talking. We were comfortable in the silence of the night. But I could tell he was nervous about something. I remember thinking, "He needs to kiss me." I kept looking into his eyes... thinking that surely he would read the wanting there.

Because we both worked early the next day, the night needed to end. We made our way to the front porch. He stopped and tugged on my arm gently. I turned to look at him. "Rita." he breathed. "I really need to kiss you. Is that OK?"

I remember laughing, and snuggling up to him. Tipping my head back, I whispered, "What took you so long to decide this?"

He actually tried to answer my question. But his tongue got all tied up. I laughed again. I placed my hands on his face, looked into his eyes, and whispered, "It is VERY OK with me."

The kiss was as wonderful as I thought it would be. I felt the electricity all the way down to my toes. As I melted into him, I realized that we fit perfectly together. It was a powerful moment for me.

Sitting here on the porch with my laptop, I can see the spot where this kiss took place. It's one of my favorite spots in the yard. Not only because of the view of the garden from there... but because it is where I experienced that First Magical Kiss with that man.

I've had time today to think about that time of my life. My relationship with him changed me forever. It taught me so much about myself; about the powers and responsibilities that women have. I learned about the fragility of egos and the need to nurture and strengthen your partner. There are so many lessons learned; things that have served me well over the years.

Good things. Special things. Important things.

I'm thinking I should take out these memories, and dust them off more often.

imbalanced

The following was just emailed to everyone in the building, from the facilities manager:

A black high heeled shoe was found outside of the Southwest entrance of the building. This can be picked up at the receptionist desk on the 2nd floor.

So... hobble on up to the 2nd floor and retrieve your shoe, young lady.

the post where Rita swears... (fair warning)

After all of the ranting and raving that went on yesterday; after all of my stern voiced protestations; after finally sending him what he wanted (via an email stating why it was outside of our policy to do so - copied to my boss [who, btw TOLD me to send him what he wanted] and his) - he has the audacity to send an email back with this message?

"Thanks, that was easy." 

What the FUCK is THAT about? 
Of all the arrogant assinine assholedness... OMG!  I am pissed. 

I can feel the knot growing in between my shoulder blades... reaching up into my neck region. 

Are we in Junior High?  Do I NEED to get emails of this nature? 

ugh.    (at least it's Friday.)

beaten and bruised

My job is not physical in any way.  I essentially SIT at a desk and use the computer.  I review files. I compile data. I analyse the information given to me.  I type documents.  I am sedentary.   The most exercise my job affords me is running to the photocopier/scanner or schlepping files to and from the file room or walking back and forth from meetings.  There is the commute every day.  The climbing up into the train, and the getting off at my station.  There's a long walk across the parking lot, and the occasional dash when I'm late.

Taking all of this into consideration... why do I feel so bruised and battered, and yes, even beaten, when I get home?  I am, quite often, left feeling completely stripped of everything good and lovely.  Tonight I am feeling that way.  Raw and wounded.  Frustrated and angry.  Tired and tearful.  I want nothing more than to lay down on the floor and sob.

Really...?

I love to receive phone calls from the OTHER department.  When I send my work there, I can count on Molasses (code name - she's slower than) giving me a ring; looking for one thing or another.  Most of the time I can point her in the right direction.  Yes, the information is right there in front of her... but she is too lazy or stupid to LOOK for it.  So.. she calls.  I point. 

Yesterday she called and asked for something completely out of the ordinary; something that is not contained within our procedures.  She was asking for something that made no sense AT ALL to me.  To get her off my line and the sound of her voice out of my ears, I agreed to pull the file and look into what it was she was asking for.  Then I called her supervisor. 

I repeated the conversation verbatim.  Then I paraphrased in my own interpretation.  Her supervisor confirmed.  Yes, they did need that information.  I reviewed the written procedure surround this type of transaction.  When I found it lacking instructions on what they wanted me to do, went to MY supervisor.

Let me make something very clear.  What they were asking me to provide them with... made NO SENSE to me at all.  BUT... I don't know everything (truly - I don't!).. so I gave them the benefit of the doubt.

My supervisor was more dumbfounded by the request than I was.  BUT, she always has a good plan... this time was no different.  She had me forward Molasses' email to her, explaining what I was being asked to do, AND to point out that the procedures say nothing about providing the OTHER department with this information.  I was to copy Molasses' supervisor on the email.

Ten minutes later we had an email back from the OTHER department's supervisor.  Surprise!  NO action was needed on our part.

I want someone to give me back the hour I lost chasing around over this.  Sad thing is ... it happens nearly every day.  I wonder how much longer Molasses is gonna have her job?

Super powers?

Note to self:

• add "Mind Reader" to resume.

Apparently this is in my job description, and not only am I expected to do it, it's generally accepted that I have been doing so for some time.  So let me not go against the system here.  Effective immediately ~~~ it's on the RESUME.

Oh.
 
And if you are around me while I am *on the job*.... watch what you are thinking.  Because I WILL KNOW.

[::eyeroll:: @ computer tech guy - I know my ass is big, you twit... but you watch my hips sway all the time.  BIG ain't always BAD.] 

fumigation and other fluff

They decided to fumigate in the night.  But nobody thought to protect the dozens of tea bags and coffee cups in the convenience center?  The stirrers, packets of sugar, napkins, etc. are still sitting out from yesterday.  Are they contaminated?  Can we use them?  People are in a panic. 

And building management has decided that it's ONLY our employees that are eating in the newly rennovated lobby; where eating is now forbidden.  How have they identified them as OURS?  Perhaps....

• they weren't smoking?
• they were fully dressed?
• they weren't cussing on their cell phones?
• they had manners?
• their arms (and neck and any other visible skin) weren't covered in tattoos?

Just another day in the neighborhood.

Clap happy

This afternoon was no different from any other.  At precisely 3PM, a co-worker started clapping his hands loudly; and I mean LOUDLY.  Sharp, fast claps that rattle bones and jangle nerves.  He only does three to five claps... but he does it every day.

No one says anything.  Nobody (that I have heard) ever questions him.  At 3PM he claps.  Then he resumes his work routine.

What the heck?

I asked another worker if she understood the clapping.  Her answer was assumption only... "I think he just gets overwhelmed and tired, and must feel the need to release the tension."

OK then.

Incredulous

Recently I was moved to another cubicle at work.  While I do feel a bit isolated from my *group*, it has been a good experience for me, and I can tell it's going to work out just fine.  At least, that is what I was thinking until late last month.

One morning, while walking through the department to my new desk, I happened across what can only be described as a CRIME.  That's right, I stumbled upon one male co-worker (Perp) at a female co-worker's (Victim) desk.  But he wasn't just standing there, oh no!  He was hunched over an open desk drawer.  And his hands were BOTH inside this woman's purse! Yes! Inside her purse.

Well, color me startled.  Actually, I was beyond startled.  I was shocked!

Of course he stiffened up; as any guilty person would do when caught red-handed.  I, on the other hand, was cool and collected and kept on walking.  Upon reaching my cubicle, I had to take deep breaths and decide WHAT TO DO!!!

Certainly I needed to report this crime.  But did I warn the purse OWNER?  I decided I needed to.  Knowing that she was in the break room (and if I knew, the Perp probably did too!), I made my way there to enlighten her.  I explained to her what I saw.  I think she must have thought I was crazy.  Because she didn't seem to be very upset by my news.  Really?  This does NOT bother you at all?

Back at my desk, a few minutes later, I heard Victim confront him.  "Perp, what were you doing in my desk drawer in my purse?"

His response was rapid.  No denial.  Just, "Who would tell you such a thing?"  (correct me if I am wrong, but doesn't that SEEM a bit guilty too?)

He had an answer for all of her questions.  I knew what I had to do.  I had to tell someone.  With my Supervisor on vacation, and her Supervisor off-sight, I went to HIS Supervisor.  What else could I do?

She believed me.  And apparently, she was not shocked.  She assured me that this situation would not be overlooked.  That something would be done. Later in the day, other management, including my off-sight manager, were either dropping by my desk, or calling me, to ask, "Are you OK?"

Let me tell you, this ROCKED my world, and not in a good way.  Seeing this man rifling through someone else's belongings changed the way I feel about my office; the place where I spend most of my life!!   Now I am locking up my purse.  Now I am constantly reminded that anything on my desk is fair game to someone who has no scruples.  I am frightened too.  Because NOT ONLY did I SEE this man, in what I can only assume was his attempt at stealing money, but HE SAW ME SEEING HIM.  And if there are reprimands handed down, he will know that I told...  I don't know why this bothers me, except that I no longer trust my work to protect me from harm... as there is now a THIEF among us.

While I wait for the other shoe to drop... I am anxious.

I don't like to feel anxious.  Not at all.