Saga
So I had a long, ridiculous, emotional, but ultimately redeeming day.
I guess it starts with this dumb mailing project that's been my nemesis at work for the last few months. It's entirely horrible. I'm in charge of mailing projects around the office, but theoretically, the beauty of mailing projects is that once one assembles and post the missives in question, one's job is done. Out of one's hands. Fluttering out into the afternoon air like so many sparrows in flight.
But, in this instance, it would not be that easy. Every difficulty, every obstacle I could possibly encounter took place with nigh astonishing consistency. The vendor mailing list had to be run through committee, tidied up and finalized by me. The contract, negotiated and finalized, was brought to me to be sent out and copied. Business reply envelopes had to be ordered, pre-labelled return envelopes prepped and sent off for posting; the business reply envelopes came back with a misprint, and the return envelopes were sent back to us, unposted, due to a change in mailing protocol. The contract was copied, but due to further legal rewrites, they had to be scrapped and ultimately sent out for copying again. The delay caused the printed-out mail-merge cover letter to be hopelessly outdated, so they too had to be recycled, prompting the ordering of more letterhead, thus causing further delays, and with Terry's electronic signature included this time because it turns out she didn't feel up to signing them all by hand, so she'll also need to place a purchase request for a new personalized self-inking signature stamp, and so on, and so on, and so on.
Due to the holidays and various other mishaps, the contract was then only recently finalized; I knew the project wasn't gone, only lurking in the shadows before it pounced again. But I did a final prep on the mailing list, printed up the address labels with matching cover letters, bundled it all up, and sent out all 260 mailings. End of mailing project.
But it's not done with me. Now it's evolved into something else entirely. God help us, the mailing project has metastasized into an ongoing project, with no end in sight. The signed contracts being returned have to be noted, logged, and filed away alphabetically. Mailings coming back to us with undeliverable outdated addresses have to be re-prepped, calls have to be made, contact addresses have to be updated. For the further organization of all, the higher-ups have decided that individual hanging folders have to be made up for the contracts of each of the 260 vendors, all stored with separate insurance documents and updated accordingly. And the vendors themselves! Folks, it is not altogether difficult to follow instructions, fill out contact information, sign a contract, and place it in a pre-addressed business reply envelope... but people have so far sent them in with signatures but without any company information; sent in just the company information page but neglected to send back the contract itself; and, in one baffling case, accidentally shredded the contract but kept the cover letter! And all this follow-up has fallen to me, because there is no one else... but it's my job and my burden to bear, and along with my naturally sunny disposition, just laughing at the absurdity of it all tends to help me along through my day.
Manager Derek then asks if he writes an email explaining this ridiculous responsibility of mine, could he send it to me so I can make sure that gets forwarded to everybody. Which I do. To which the big boss then replies to all, beginning, "Many thanks to Derek and Terry for all their hard work on this important project..."
...So. Yeah. It was around then that I decided I was cranky.
Bad moods, more often than not, can be kind of... voluntary for me. Well, that may be the wrong term, but on the odd occasion when I'm feeling overwhelmed and my easygoing nature is pushed to its limits metabolizing numerous hassles at once and transforming them into funny stories to tell after the fact, I say, "I will let myself be grumpy for [x amount of time]" and deal with it all later. I sleep, I mope a bit, and I'm better. Kind of an emotional indulgence. An indulgence to which I treat myself with when the big boss takes the time to send out an email to everyone that doesn't note or even acknowledge any of the ridiculous time and effort I'd spent with this godforsaken project that took so much "hard work" on the parts of others to delegate to me. Yeah. Times like that. And I know I shouldn't be petty, and I know it's my job, and I know I'm the low man on the totem pole, and I know I don't work for pats on the head -- I'm aware of all that. But I decided I was going to get around to all that after I'd gotten being cranky right out of the way.
It lasted about a half an hour. Since I was at work, I wasn't cranky so's you'd notice, just quietly going about my business with only the occasional low grumble. But then my coworker pal Kristin, without me even mentioning anything about this to her, or even so much as sending her significant glances as I passed by her desk, sent me an email which simply said:
"How about 'many thanks to CODY.' Thank you, Cody."
So I damn well decided to buy her flowers.
It was just what I needed at the time. You know how you kinda plan out the story of your bad day before you tell it to anybody? Well, that one little email changed that story's entire tone. Just like that. She'd noticed, and for all that it mattered, she appreciated all my hard work... since lord knows she'd heard enough about it from my frequent updates.
I felt great. I wanted to make a gesture. I wanted to show her how she'd singlehandedly changed the mood of my entire day, and that if it wasn't a bad day anymore, practically anything was possible.
So I damn well decided to ask out Hot Florist.
(See? It's an entirely different story now!)
Now, gentle reader, I know what you're thinking: "But Cody, while your taste in men is, as ever, unerring, is he anywhere near as hot as Hot Courier?" But let me assure you that no, my friends, he is BY FAR the hotter specimen. His sparkly blue eyes, long long chestnut-brown hair, flawless copper beard, just the merest hint of freckles, and oh, his grin! His beautiful grin! I haven't mentioned him here before because I've had asking him out on my list of things to do for quite some time now, but I had yet to have both the nerve and, desperately single as I am, the motive to enter a florist's. (I know, right?! Me! Hard-pressed for occasion to buy someone flowers! It's not like I hadn't been trying!) I figured I didn't have a chance (he's masculine, but, um, he likes flowers?), but what did I really have to lose?
So when my afternoon break came around, I leapt into the florist's across the street, where none other than Hot Florist appeared behind the counter and sprang to my aid, his hair gathered back into a stylish yet professional knot. "A coworker has done something nice for me!" I declared! "So I need something for her! Something small, but colorful, and on a budget!" (Just like her!)
Hot Florist didn't bat an eye, bless him. He immediately started gathering up the best colorful mixed-flowers bouquet he could manage. I decided to throw in a bag of Jelly Bellies and a card, on which I wrote, "Yeah, no, I seriously appreciated it this much! You're the best!" as Hot Florist bundled up the flowers all nice and tidy. He had a pierced ear and nary a ring to be seen on his fingers. I thanked him for all his help, sincerely.
"So," I began conversationally, but low enough so that his nearby manager wouldn't hear, "do you get a lot of customers in asking you out for drinks?"
He grinned(!), not looking up, as he was still working with the flowers. "No, actually."
I nodded as if I was really mulling it over. "Do you want to go out for drinks sometime?"
He kept grinning. I observed his conversational pause lengthening until it entered the realm of awkward hesitation, and, being a gentleman, I let him off the hook with a smile, a shake of the head and an under-my-breath "No problem."
He handed the flowers over to me, still smiling, thanking me very much; however, to my credit, I was happy to see that he was blushing so hard, he was practically shiny.
I zipped back over to work, forgetting how conspicuous a guy is when he's carrying a giant bouquet of flowers, and made my way over to Kristin's desk; unintentionally drawing the eyes of everyone in the vicinity, I handed them over to Kristin, told her, "These just came for you!" and vanished with a quickness. She was back at my desk mere seconds later to give me a hug, calling me a "stinker" all the while, for some reason.
On the way to our cars after work, after filling her in on the latest development with Hot Florist ("I knew you were looking for an excuse!"), we had a talk about an issue she had at work while I took a couple days off for my birthday. It turns out things had been pretty thankless for both of us lately, and so we'd just gone and made the others' day without even knowing about it. And then I bought myself some new comics, which I felt I'd really earned.
So I guess if someone does something nice for you, you could always consider repaying them with a ridiculously extravagant gesture and/or seeing if you can ask somebody out on a date while you're at it. It's what I would recommend, anyway.
I guess it starts with this dumb mailing project that's been my nemesis at work for the last few months. It's entirely horrible. I'm in charge of mailing projects around the office, but theoretically, the beauty of mailing projects is that once one assembles and post the missives in question, one's job is done. Out of one's hands. Fluttering out into the afternoon air like so many sparrows in flight.
But, in this instance, it would not be that easy. Every difficulty, every obstacle I could possibly encounter took place with nigh astonishing consistency. The vendor mailing list had to be run through committee, tidied up and finalized by me. The contract, negotiated and finalized, was brought to me to be sent out and copied. Business reply envelopes had to be ordered, pre-labelled return envelopes prepped and sent off for posting; the business reply envelopes came back with a misprint, and the return envelopes were sent back to us, unposted, due to a change in mailing protocol. The contract was copied, but due to further legal rewrites, they had to be scrapped and ultimately sent out for copying again. The delay caused the printed-out mail-merge cover letter to be hopelessly outdated, so they too had to be recycled, prompting the ordering of more letterhead, thus causing further delays, and with Terry's electronic signature included this time because it turns out she didn't feel up to signing them all by hand, so she'll also need to place a purchase request for a new personalized self-inking signature stamp, and so on, and so on, and so on.
Due to the holidays and various other mishaps, the contract was then only recently finalized; I knew the project wasn't gone, only lurking in the shadows before it pounced again. But I did a final prep on the mailing list, printed up the address labels with matching cover letters, bundled it all up, and sent out all 260 mailings. End of mailing project.
But it's not done with me. Now it's evolved into something else entirely. God help us, the mailing project has metastasized into an ongoing project, with no end in sight. The signed contracts being returned have to be noted, logged, and filed away alphabetically. Mailings coming back to us with undeliverable outdated addresses have to be re-prepped, calls have to be made, contact addresses have to be updated. For the further organization of all, the higher-ups have decided that individual hanging folders have to be made up for the contracts of each of the 260 vendors, all stored with separate insurance documents and updated accordingly. And the vendors themselves! Folks, it is not altogether difficult to follow instructions, fill out contact information, sign a contract, and place it in a pre-addressed business reply envelope... but people have so far sent them in with signatures but without any company information; sent in just the company information page but neglected to send back the contract itself; and, in one baffling case, accidentally shredded the contract but kept the cover letter! And all this follow-up has fallen to me, because there is no one else... but it's my job and my burden to bear, and along with my naturally sunny disposition, just laughing at the absurdity of it all tends to help me along through my day.
Manager Derek then asks if he writes an email explaining this ridiculous responsibility of mine, could he send it to me so I can make sure that gets forwarded to everybody. Which I do. To which the big boss then replies to all, beginning, "Many thanks to Derek and Terry for all their hard work on this important project..."
...So. Yeah. It was around then that I decided I was cranky.
Bad moods, more often than not, can be kind of... voluntary for me. Well, that may be the wrong term, but on the odd occasion when I'm feeling overwhelmed and my easygoing nature is pushed to its limits metabolizing numerous hassles at once and transforming them into funny stories to tell after the fact, I say, "I will let myself be grumpy for [x amount of time]" and deal with it all later. I sleep, I mope a bit, and I'm better. Kind of an emotional indulgence. An indulgence to which I treat myself with when the big boss takes the time to send out an email to everyone that doesn't note or even acknowledge any of the ridiculous time and effort I'd spent with this godforsaken project that took so much "hard work" on the parts of others to delegate to me. Yeah. Times like that. And I know I shouldn't be petty, and I know it's my job, and I know I'm the low man on the totem pole, and I know I don't work for pats on the head -- I'm aware of all that. But I decided I was going to get around to all that after I'd gotten being cranky right out of the way.
It lasted about a half an hour. Since I was at work, I wasn't cranky so's you'd notice, just quietly going about my business with only the occasional low grumble. But then my coworker pal Kristin, without me even mentioning anything about this to her, or even so much as sending her significant glances as I passed by her desk, sent me an email which simply said:
"How about 'many thanks to CODY.' Thank you, Cody."
So I damn well decided to buy her flowers.
It was just what I needed at the time. You know how you kinda plan out the story of your bad day before you tell it to anybody? Well, that one little email changed that story's entire tone. Just like that. She'd noticed, and for all that it mattered, she appreciated all my hard work... since lord knows she'd heard enough about it from my frequent updates.
I felt great. I wanted to make a gesture. I wanted to show her how she'd singlehandedly changed the mood of my entire day, and that if it wasn't a bad day anymore, practically anything was possible.
So I damn well decided to ask out Hot Florist.
(See? It's an entirely different story now!)
Now, gentle reader, I know what you're thinking: "But Cody, while your taste in men is, as ever, unerring, is he anywhere near as hot as Hot Courier?" But let me assure you that no, my friends, he is BY FAR the hotter specimen. His sparkly blue eyes, long long chestnut-brown hair, flawless copper beard, just the merest hint of freckles, and oh, his grin! His beautiful grin! I haven't mentioned him here before because I've had asking him out on my list of things to do for quite some time now, but I had yet to have both the nerve and, desperately single as I am, the motive to enter a florist's. (I know, right?! Me! Hard-pressed for occasion to buy someone flowers! It's not like I hadn't been trying!) I figured I didn't have a chance (he's masculine, but, um, he likes flowers?), but what did I really have to lose?
So when my afternoon break came around, I leapt into the florist's across the street, where none other than Hot Florist appeared behind the counter and sprang to my aid, his hair gathered back into a stylish yet professional knot. "A coworker has done something nice for me!" I declared! "So I need something for her! Something small, but colorful, and on a budget!" (Just like her!)
Hot Florist didn't bat an eye, bless him. He immediately started gathering up the best colorful mixed-flowers bouquet he could manage. I decided to throw in a bag of Jelly Bellies and a card, on which I wrote, "Yeah, no, I seriously appreciated it this much! You're the best!" as Hot Florist bundled up the flowers all nice and tidy. He had a pierced ear and nary a ring to be seen on his fingers. I thanked him for all his help, sincerely.
"So," I began conversationally, but low enough so that his nearby manager wouldn't hear, "do you get a lot of customers in asking you out for drinks?"
He grinned(!), not looking up, as he was still working with the flowers. "No, actually."
I nodded as if I was really mulling it over. "Do you want to go out for drinks sometime?"
He kept grinning. I observed his conversational pause lengthening until it entered the realm of awkward hesitation, and, being a gentleman, I let him off the hook with a smile, a shake of the head and an under-my-breath "No problem."
He handed the flowers over to me, still smiling, thanking me very much; however, to my credit, I was happy to see that he was blushing so hard, he was practically shiny.
I zipped back over to work, forgetting how conspicuous a guy is when he's carrying a giant bouquet of flowers, and made my way over to Kristin's desk; unintentionally drawing the eyes of everyone in the vicinity, I handed them over to Kristin, told her, "These just came for you!" and vanished with a quickness. She was back at my desk mere seconds later to give me a hug, calling me a "stinker" all the while, for some reason.
On the way to our cars after work, after filling her in on the latest development with Hot Florist ("I knew you were looking for an excuse!"), we had a talk about an issue she had at work while I took a couple days off for my birthday. It turns out things had been pretty thankless for both of us lately, and so we'd just gone and made the others' day without even knowing about it. And then I bought myself some new comics, which I felt I'd really earned.
So I guess if someone does something nice for you, you could always consider repaying them with a ridiculously extravagant gesture and/or seeing if you can ask somebody out on a date while you're at it. It's what I would recommend, anyway.