Pet peeves

First of all....why are these tidbits of irritation called "pet" peeves? Pets are a source of joy in my house...not irritation. I'll have to do some research on the origin of "pet peeves." But that is not why I'm blogging today. I'm irritated and need to vent. You see, I don't mind helping out when people need assistance but I ABSOLUTELY HATE when you spend time explaining something then they don't follow up on your instructions but ask the very same question to someone else. Why did you waste my time asking me? Why do you think you're going to get a better answer somewhere else? If I hadn't known the answer I'd have told you that. Since I spent some good quality time talking you through the situation, obviously I knew what I was talking about. Aarrgghh. Now the next time you ask me a question I am going to feign stupidity and not answer you. This makes me look like a bitch, and inside I should feel guilty, but I don't. Sorry.

Musical memories

They say that smell is the strongest memory invoking agent that we have. I don't know who these "they" people are but I disagree. Music is the trigger for me that takes me right back to where the memory took place. There are a whole group of songs that my teenage friends and I affectionately refer to as "camp songs." I grew up spending summers at a local campground and these were the tunes of the day. I can't hear the Backstreet Boys without thinking about the two concerts I took my youngest daughters to along with the CD's we played out on road trips to their brother's east coast college football games. There are particular songs, such as Rockin' Robin, that have me cheering for my oldest daughter's gymnastic floor routines of fifteen years ago. Today I heard one of my all-time favorite Styx songs.....Come Sail Away...and was right back at their concert on Jones Beach, Long Island. Concert tickets from my son and his fiancee' as a graduation present for their old mother who finally...after ten years...graduated from college. A weekend in New York with the concert as Friday night entertainment. I remember how much fun that night was...and all the joy came rushing back tonight on the way home from work. That's a nice trick. Thank you, memory.

Elevator creeps

I work on the fourth floor of a building. I enter from the parking lot on the first floor level. Nine days out of ten I have to push the up button to call the elevator. That other one day gives me the creeps. As soon as I enter the building through the glass doors the elevator doors swing open and the bell rings to signal its arrival. I step in and push the 4 button even though I feel like this particular day it will be taking me elsewhere. Who sent that elevator down to welcome me as I arrived? It gives me the willies. I almost want to step back out and wait for the next one to arrive AFTER I push the up button. Stop helping me creepy elevator spirits. I'd rather take care of that morning action myself. I don't want or need an escort up to wherever you are planning to take me. My office is scary enough, thank you.

big peckers

Well this past Friday I was reminded of an important concept of the hierarchy of the world that I had forgotten. You see there was an open position in my department at work and out of three candidates for the position one was truly the most qualified. She, however, had had an unpleasant exchange with the hiring manager in the past and was worried it would affect her. Silly me...I tried to convince the candidate that this hiring manager was much too ethical and intelligent to let personal feelings cloud her judgement. Boy was I wrong! The decision was made to offer the position to one of the other candidates despite them being severely under-qualifed. I was reminded that the boss has the biggest pecker no matter what and she will use it any old which way she wants.