Stupid Google, Stupid Me | 09/14/04

Stupid Google. The Yahoo cache of my page worked great, frames and all. I didn't realize this until this morning when I was at work, well after I had taken down my frames page. I had a serious case of the no-sleepies last night and didn't fall asleep until sometime after 3am. For the first time since I started working regularly, my body did not perk up when my alarm went off a solid three hours later. I got up to shut it off still semi-dreaming. Rather than checking my email and petting Chompy, as my morning routine usually dictates, I decided to (quite literally) jump back into bed. I woke up again at 7:42. Eek. I had already resigned myself to being late so I didn't hurry, but I did cut out all of the non-essential parts of my morning routine and made it work by 8:10. Good thing I live so close. Still exhausted, I zombied my way through the boxes, purging as much as my tired arms would let me carry at a time. I discovered a new recycling bin today, which was good because I had filled up all the other ones. Having a flash of artistic genius, I decided to make an art piece out of throwing away thousands of sheets of paper into this enormous tub. For six hours I accumulated about twelve reams of paper that were to go in this bin then made my way across the floor to it. I painstakingly laid out the papers around the edges, building a paper-hurricane. By the time I was done, the pages were about four and a half feet tall and, by God, it looked like a paper hurricane. Lacking a camera on my phone, I decided I'd bring my camera tomorrow to photograph it. But no. With a half hour of work remaining, the head of human resources told me about this box that she had in her office that for some reason was not with the rest of them. I quickly filed through it and gathered another 150 pages or so to complete the stratosphere level of the hurricane. I get back to my room and there's a 500 page report destroying the western eye wall. Panicking, I set my own papers aside and try to to resurrect my piece. It was too late. The damage inflicted upon my Category Five Paper-Hurricane was catastrophic. Below the report was another 50 pages or so, scattered and smashed in to make more room on the top for the report. Once I saw the damage was not repairable I threw my remaining papers on top of the report with the staples still in them (out of protest). I sulked back to my office to make a Post-It note boat when I was caught by the boss-boss, Vicki and the head of IT, Roy. Roy told me that he was short a person in web design and asked if I wouldn't mind helping out. I agreed because at least I know there won't be any roaches coming out of my machine. My regular boss (Wayne) gets back from a couple days off tomorrow and hopefully he can tell me how to get the score of boxes out of our office. He and I are most likely going to a Records Management meeting on Thursday. That will be less than fun, I'm sure, but afterwards I get a certificate of somesort if I understand things correctly. I tried to figure out what the certification meant tonight and found out there's actually a group of Certified Records Managers. You have to take this six-part test and have all these crazy qualifications to join. Correct me if I'm wrong, and I might be, but if we lived fifty years ago, wouldn't we just be file clerks?

Chris and I met up for Gordo's this afternoon and man, it hit the spot. Jamie was verbally assaulted by some gold-chain wearing 18 year old Miamian for parking across the street in front of his house. I was able to come up with a lot of revenge tactics, so I'm feeling pretty good about that situation. In other news, the Cubs finally won a close game.




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