Schreiber

Because this is my job,
I am automatically copying FAR clauses related to contract into a Word document.

Because I was a medievalist once, and studied with Anders,
even though I'm not actually reading most of these clauses and subclauses, my internal narrator still automatically translates their half-glimpsed opening phrases to "Si autem..." constantly.

Things that are very tempting to do when setting up a Coupa account:

- Claim that your firm's primary products are things that they do not, and indeed are forbidden to, supply, e.g. conventional war weapons, rockets, gambling equipment, antiretroviral drugs, etc.

- Translate any associated emails into whatever language Coupa initially defaulted to (Polish, in this case)*

- Replace "Coupa" with "Koopa" in any associated emails

* WTFF, Coupa? I eventually realized that there was a thing at the bottom that could be used to change your language, but (a) that should really be more obvious, and (b) maybe you should default to English or French or something else widely spoken as a second language?
__________________

PS: A tangential train of thought led me to this, which amused me: Opinion: Study Latin if you want to talk like a supervillain.
"To this day, we all remember how to say multus sanguis fluit: “Much blood flows.”"

I think I am doing a really good job of not totally losing my shit at someone this morning.

Well, folks, it's officially a slow afternoon here in work-from-home land. I went for a walk (with mask) after lunch, bought chocolates, spent most of an hour EATING said chocolates (they may have been a mistake) while rereading some of my favorite bits of The Mauritius Command, finally dragged my lazy keister into Spare Oom to get some work done, and still managed to finish* my back-burner project of helping to update the small business database... despite having tabs for a video of a Messiah performance and cracked.com open in the background. Time for my long-delayed Easter update.

( Cut for DIY Liturgy )

It has been a weird week.

I mean, it's been a weird week for everyone. COVID-19, social distancing, trying to figure out how much social distancing is enough/overreaction, disruption. The weirdest thing about my week, in some ways, was the ways where this wasn't unexpected. ( Read more... )

Uggghhhh.
Monday: The day you com back from vacation and have to spend the whole day getting up to speed.
Tuesday: The day you spend getting through the rest of the backlog. (urgent bits only)
Wednesday: The day you spend dealing with everything that came in Monday and Tuesday.
Thursday: More of the same.
Thursday PM: Time to start dealing with all the slightly-less urgent stuff that you've had to put off for the last four days.
Friday: will probably feature something that will prevent you actually getting caught up.

Monday: Finally finish shoveling up the $#17 from your vacation.
Tuesday-Thursday: MIGHT be normal. I can dream, anyway.
Thursday evening: leave on another vacation.

2:48pm, EDT: Whelp, I'm bailing out of the RS Livejournal. Nice of DW to set up an automatic import page; though this means that
a) this is taking forever (because I have, yikes, 12 years worth of entries). Even on a university computer.
I guess probably half of LJ is doing the same thing.
b) I am going to have to go back at some point and get rid of a bunch of duplicate entries, and
c) I may also need to flag certain old things "private" again.
Ogod, please tell me the things ALREADY down as private stay that way when they import. eep.

2:52: Goddammit, PLEASE do this quickly: I only have twenty more minutes of lunch. And that's WITH the second signout...

I should perhaps clarify. This morning, upon arrival, I found out that the President of Mailrooms Etc. was going to be descending upon us later in the day. Naturally, I thought, this WOULD happen on the day when I'd decided no one would care if I wore my least presentable pair of work trousers.

Then, after we'd got back from the delivery route, my boss (who'd arrived in the interim) told us that [Pres.] would be arriving around 4. We all breathed a small sigh of relief.
The boss then disappeared in quest of lunch.
I finished up all of MY stuff and then, as [coworker] was "back" from lunch (she has a bad habit of not actually leaving the office...), clocked out.
[Pres.] promptly walked in the door.

I decided I'd better stick around for a few minutes while my boss was getting himself back to the office, just to help ward off any disasters that would otherwise happen while he was watching...
So that was why I clocked out twice.*

3:05: explain to my grandparents' old swedish exchange student what "Quarter Peal" means

3:10: Monkeys, if this thing doesn't finish in about the next two minute, I'm gonna have to abort. $#17.

3:14: $#17. OK, try again later.

4:00 (while sitting around the Copy Center, because Reasons): Hm. I seem to recall something about "irrevocable process", and the Import Journal page still says "waiting in queue" or something to that effect. So *hopefully* it's still chugging away. Anybody know more than I do about how this works?

ETA - 9pm EDT (why am I still at University??): OK, we have liftoff import! Still waiting on ten years' worth of comments, though. Hopefully they come through ok.

* Apparently I did one of these as clocking OUT, rather than clocking out to lunch. My boss fixed it, hopefully in some way that didn't show me out to lunch for an hour and a half!

Ironically, I am able to say:

I was too tired from work to go to handbell practice, so I opted for the three-mile run instead.

(What I mostly was was mentally tired, so it's true, even if it sounds weird.)

BTW, thanks for the good wishes, and I seem to be over the lurgi. Except maybe for being really really tired. And that may just be the result of a day that started with spilling coffee into the mail sorting machine, and got worse from there, at least until I got to go home. At which point I tired myself out some more by running three miles.

Screw it (and especially, screw job applications.) I'm going to bed.

Knee is actually better - enough - that I went to running club without doing it damage. Yay, recovery!
(Weather was way too muggy, but Oh Well. Didn't get enough rain, though.)

Meantime, I wish that the day they decided to distribute a thousand copies of [University]'s "State of the Arts" magazine--a publication that I suspect no one actually wants to read--had not coincided with a day on which we received 2500 pieces of REGULAR mail. Just getting it all READY for tomorrow was tricky; distributing it all tomorrow is going to be, quite literally, a pain.

Various, in no particular order:
-It's hell week at work. One of those weeks where you get 1000+ packages in a day, and the lines of students waiting to pick them up wrap around the staircase, and everyone's working overtime...every day.
Next week will probably also be hell week.

- Another symptom of this is that the longer-term employees are temporarily ignoring the finer details of the dress code. In my case, this is partly because I realized that the job has killed my shoes, and the state of my shoes is probably the real culprit in killing my knee.*
We will see whether a week of not wearing them helps. Meantime, I should find new shoes. And perhaps also a good shoe repair place.

- My Mom is coming in for a state visit on Saturday. This would be cool, except for the fact that it means I have to actually clean my room. And figure out what we're doing. Mom wants to go to my "favorite breakfast place". This vision does not, unfortunately, square with the facts. I do not go out for breakfast when at home: I am poor, I make very good pancakes, and going out for breakfast takes time that I could spend on job applications, computer games, bellringing, or sleep. Also, while my neighborhood has some excellent breakfast places, this is a fact known to everyone else in Camforville, and so spending an hour standing in line outside Sound Bites or Ball Square Cafe is very much the done thing; but I don't think that's quite what Mom had in mind...

- Distracting myself from all this by planning my birthday party.


* For the short-term problem. I may still want to see a physical therapist, because while the shoes may be the source of the IMMEDIATE, can't-run-and-also-pain flair-up, this is also a long-term issue.