What is it with the clocks in this office? I�m no big fan of this Daylight Savings hoo-ha, as if any daylight is actually "saved" by the whole arrangement, and my appreciation is dropped even further by the fact that it seems to have completely screwed with every last timekeeping device in the building. Right now, my computer is telling me it�s 10:00am. It�s not. The clock in my phone is telling me it�s 8:00am. It�s not. I�m not sure how one of them jumped ahead two hours and the other one didn�t budge at all, but maybe my computer shouldn�t be so damn greedy, and should consider sharing that extra hour with the rest of the office, hmm?
Other things throwing off my natural rhythm include the fact that Sophie finally hired someone to take over where Sam left off. Now, this is definitely good news, since it means fewer headless-chicken impressions on my part (you�ll notice that I did not have an entry for Friday, which was due in large part to the fact that I had to spend most of the day putting out the fire under my ass), but there are inevitably going to be growing pains when part of a machine is replaced by a new part. Because we�re like a machine over here at Arts-Friendly, y�all. We�re just that efficient.
Or maybe we�re like a machine in that we require pretty much constant maintenance, and have been known to grind a man to death between our steely jaws. Although that only happened once, and I had a really good excuse!
Anyway, I just hope this chick has a decent sense of humor about all the things I�m going to say to her face when she gets up here. (She�s downstairs right now, learning some kind of something-or-other from Tony and China in Data Entry.) Of course, my joy at having someone installed in the office across from mine is mitigated, again, because the 50% increase in my duties after Sam�s departure? Is going to stay right where it is. Sophie has decided that it "makes more sense" for me to just keep on doing all the crazy extra stuff I�ve been doing for the last few weeks. So "we�re" just going to keep it that way. And then "we�ll" start writing REDRUM all over the walls with our mother�s lipstick, before trying to kill someone with the stapler.
Oh, good, the phone is on the right time now. My computer is still fucking around, however. You�d think, given what historically happens to bad computers in this office (ie, they get stolen and sold on the black market like babies), it would get its act together. Not so. It�s a rebel, and it�ll never be any good. That�s just fine. We have ways of breaking machines around here.
I think I�m losing my mind. Our email is still down, and it�s really making things a lot more complicated than they need to be. You see, Sophie has an external account, so on Friday, she managed to get two days worth of backed-up email requests from our clients, and forwarded all of them to me to take care of that afternoon (hence the ass fire). This situation has only bred more of the same, and I am presently clinging to my sanity in the same way that all those cartoon guys cling to the tiny shrub growing out of the sheer cliff face, as though it�s really going to hold their weight indefinitely and save them from certain death. It�s only a matter of time before my tenuous grip completely gives way and I tumble irretrievably headlong into the rocky destiny of my mental deterioration.
It could be a fun ride, I guess. At least I�ll have somebody new to drag down along with me.
Someone Got Here By Searching For: "smother him to death" And: "how to play dodge ball?" I�m Watching: Arrested Development. Please don�t let this show get cancelled! And: Home Movies, which really needs to be shown more than once a week.