Thank you
Thanks to everyone who answered my post yesterday. I'm too lazy/doped up to answer individually, but in reward, here's an embarrassing story from work yesterday!
As almost everyone probably knows, we have a new governor in Illinois. Our newspaper editor interviewed him last Saturday when he appeared at a union event, and he brought me the tape to transcribe.
I pulled out my new-yet-ancient dictaphone equipment yesterday morning to do the job. I say it's "new" because this equipment was all purchased while I've been working here (20 years in March!), but it's ancient, too, because WHO USES DICTAPHONES? I MEAN, REALLY!
So I type with the usual interruptions for phone calls, etc. Eventually I take a break and get up, go send a fax, distribute some mail in the work room, and wander around to the ladies room. While I'm doing this, lots of people are saying hello.
Then I walk in the restroom and see myself in the mirror, and almost have a heart attack.
There is black crud all over my ears, neck, face, and dress. I look like I was attacked by a sidewalk artist with a giant stick of charcoal.
I start brushing this shit off and realize that my TRULY ancient dictaphone earphones have been decomposing on me this morning. I dig it out of my ears, brush off my clothing, and wash my face and neck.
And then I wonder why no one said anything to me. Do we not really look at each other? Are they just used to me being bizarre?
For those with political leanings, the new governor's interview was very nice. For those who like loose ends tied up, the dictaphone headset is now stripped of the rotting plastic padding. :)
As almost everyone probably knows, we have a new governor in Illinois. Our newspaper editor interviewed him last Saturday when he appeared at a union event, and he brought me the tape to transcribe.
I pulled out my new-yet-ancient dictaphone equipment yesterday morning to do the job. I say it's "new" because this equipment was all purchased while I've been working here (20 years in March!), but it's ancient, too, because WHO USES DICTAPHONES? I MEAN, REALLY!
So I type with the usual interruptions for phone calls, etc. Eventually I take a break and get up, go send a fax, distribute some mail in the work room, and wander around to the ladies room. While I'm doing this, lots of people are saying hello.
Then I walk in the restroom and see myself in the mirror, and almost have a heart attack.
There is black crud all over my ears, neck, face, and dress. I look like I was attacked by a sidewalk artist with a giant stick of charcoal.
I start brushing this shit off and realize that my TRULY ancient dictaphone earphones have been decomposing on me this morning. I dig it out of my ears, brush off my clothing, and wash my face and neck.
And then I wonder why no one said anything to me. Do we not really look at each other? Are they just used to me being bizarre?
For those with political leanings, the new governor's interview was very nice. For those who like loose ends tied up, the dictaphone headset is now stripped of the rotting plastic padding. :)