Schreiber

Completely unrelated to previous post:

I am researching bounces from my employer's email lists, and am therefore sorely tempted to ping one or two people's LinkedIn profiles and ask "Are you dead?"


ETA: On the same search: Look... This obituary is presumably just giving the names of children's spouses, but the way they phrased it KINDA makes it look like half this person's kids are trans., and being deadnamed for the benefit of people who haven't seen them in a while.
"XX is survived by their sons, Thomas, Sean (Maureen), Patrick, Brendan (Dana); and daughters, Siobhan (Stephen); Maureen, Mary (Matthew), Deirdre (Jason)...

Just sent out a dozen emails to senior executives on behalf of one of my bosses.

Why am I not surprised that the only one who's replied so far was the one woman on the list?

More things I am restraining myself from posting to the Group Chat at work:

"Welcome back to the shitshow!"

Accidentally tried to use spot remover as shaving cream this morning. Argh.

(It's not nearly as bad as it sounds: this kind of spot remover is basically glorified soap, and so's shaving cream. So no side effects as YET, aside from smelling like spot remover.)

The real problem of the week is that last Friday Trump put a freeze on all USAID programs. ( Read more... )

...No, I should limit myself to a max. of ONE confusing subculture reference in the group chat at work per day.

ETA: Just blew like fifteen minutes seeing if there was a Symbol in Word for Insular autem.
A: No, there is not. There ARE signs for every archaic Greek letter you've never heard of, and for that one thing in Cyrillic that looks like the Appalachian Trail sign, which (μεν) is cool (δε) makes it extra frustrating that I can't find the h-with-a-tail I was looking for.

Not sure whether I'm actually sick (with something that might be CoViD), or just sick of my job/depressed and drinking too much coffee to try to compensate.

ETA: All signs point to caffeine, etc.

Mondays are even worse when they're on Tuesday.


COVID Levels (as of 23 May) : Back up marginally, to 390 Bobcat-Robots.

Huh, it's the anniversary of my (official) hiring at my current job. Six years. WTF.

I will repeat the cry, coming up from the throats of myriads:

Could this meeting not have been an email?!?


FML, I'm going running.
(Okay, I guess I shouldn't bitch too much. Socially, the past month has been pretty great. Work, not so much, though.)

Ugghh. Copyediting the Clapper at home, copyediting the Subrecipient Monitoring Training powerpoint at work. I have eyestrain.