This morning while walking the dogs, I thought of a great topic of which to blog. Too bad I can't remember what it was about. Alas, it will come to me once I finish posting this one.
I have a new job at work...which means I once again had to move offices. I hold the agency record for most office moves at an unbelievable 18.
Who has time to blog when zapped with a new job and another pending office move?
Now, moving can have benefits. After all, the more you move, the less junk you want to haul along. Although I still have plenty of crap filling the corners of any office I inhabit, I've "lost" some volume along the way. It also affords me the opportunity to find lost objects, clean dust-covered trinkets and re-arrange my files and folders. I've found money, lost phone cords, paperwork I swore I had turned in, even lost clothing. (From changing clothes after walking during lunch--not from anything fun, you naughty tidbits.) Thankfully, I do not usually find spoiled food, confidential files or unpaid personal bills. I'm pretty flexible when it comes to moving and I can't say I've ever really minded the chance for new scenery. I am probably one of the only employees who is fine with such nonsense.
I did not enjoy this most recent move as I had only been in office move #17 for two months; in fact, I'm not sure I ever did finish unpacking. When I took the new job, I asked to stay in the current office; after all, I had just moved there, it had kick ass furniture, it was the biggest office I had every been assigned and I had installed my plant light. My boss gave me a scowl and an emphatic "NO." Even though the new office is only three doors down from office move #17, I was told I had to move. I didn't understand but my boss seemed to be in a pissy mood about the whole thing so I scowled back but didn't argue.
I'm sure she knows what my thoughts were on the decision that I had to move. I don't exactly have a poker face.
Imagine my intense displeasure when I was later told by HR I could choose to stay in office #17. This after moving half of my belongings from #17 to #18. It was not a pretty moment in the Addiverse.
With the start of the new job, I've had no time to organize my new office or even move all my stuff out of the old office. I had to hit the floor running, so I am basically living half-assed between two places, each appearing to have been hit by an F5 tornado. I figure I'll have time to finish the move in about a month; until then, my old office will remain my half-office. No one dare say anything about my failure to move fully from office #17.
The new office has a window, so that's a bonus. I'm the only person on the lower level who has a window, so I am special in that capacity. It doesn't open but I can see the weather, making me a rock star--I know if a tornado is on the way, if it's snowing, if hail is damaging cars. It's a funny window, as it's on the ground level. All I see are feet and legs walk by. Distracting but fun.
The biggest issue I've had in the past week has been the onslaught of house flies in the office areas. No, they are not from lost food products in office #17. No one knows exactly where they are coming from but they are there in full force. They are so bad that I actually went out and purchased a bug zapper.
I got the racket kind--it looks like a badminton racket, only it has batteries in it so you can electrify flies. That means you can swat the flies on the fly or you can wait to zap them while they are unsuspectingly perched on the office window. I got it at the evil conglomerate of Wally World. Only $6.88. How can you beat spending less that $7 to have fun and enjoyment while making a difference in the world?
Oh.My.GOD! I never knew how much fun it could be to zap flies!!! Now, I'm usually a pacifist when it comes to killing things, but those flies have been dive-bombing my head and I'd had enough. I had no idea that a popping, sparking fly could make me so happy. It is quite satisfying, especially after spending three days dodging and weaving from flies zipping at your head.
Did you know that flies SPARK when you electrocute them? Oh, so divine. I am ashamed of myself for enjoying it so much. I do so love it.
Everyone in the area knows I'm zapping flies by several tell-tale signs:
(1) the popping. The flies pop LOUDLY when they are electrocuted--it's a sound unto its own. Sometimes, the flies POP loudly two times....if they don't die with the first electrocution, I have to fry them a second time.
(2) the laughing. I laugh as I fry these buggers.
(3) the swearing. Sometimes they get away, which leads to disdain.
(4) the moving of furniture, especially the sound of dragging chairs on tile flooring. After all, I have to stand on something to fry those who have perched on the ceiling lights.
(5) the smell. I'd be lying if I said a pack of electrocuted flies don't smell like somethings burning.
(6) the sound of victory. I'm not quiet in my success--I cheer, cajole, yell, I laugh. I laugh a lot. Take that, you maggot-making infestation.
Having a bug zapper has made my transition to office move #18 a little more palatable. It's distracting, if nothing else. It's fun and just plain wrong. I like just plain wrong.
Just know that if my boss tells me within the next year that I have to move offices again, I'll be zapping her and I'll zap her right in the ass.....
....and, I will laugh loudly when her butt sparks and pops.
Duty to warn, flies and boss. Duty to warn.
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