Wednesday, May 27, 2009
I love my job. I have the freedom to do what I feel is best, the respect of my peers and superiors, and the support and authority to make decisions. I'm smiling right now.
Since that last unfortunate outbreak of zombieism (see http://glenoterica.blogspot.com/2009/03/today-835am.html), things have been steadily improving at the Lab. We've announced important breakthroughs in science, we've established partnerships, and work has accelerated on our new facility. I've personally had input into how certain rooms should be spec'ed out and what sort of equipment and audio/visual technology should be installed. I love my job.
The company softball team plays tonite, if the rain holds out. I'm scheduled to pitch. I love pitching, though it has its downfalls. The bruise on my shoulder is still there, though most of the yellow and blue has faded away. But I'm ready. Given that it's not a terribly competitive league (more for fun and recreation) they won't let me throw my good stuff. No high arch. No sick spin. I just have to get it over the plate with the intent of "letting them hit it." That wouldn't be so bad if our fielders were a bit more skilled. I did see our center fielder make a fantastic diving catch a few games ago that was most impressive due to that fact that he didn't spill not even a drop of his beer.
So I'm multitasking. I'm blogging, I'm updating a presentation for new hire orientation, I'm organizing meetings on the corporate calendar, I'm preparing a new class in data protection and security, and I'm finishing up my ham sammish. (Mmmm... mayonnaise.)
And life is good.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Monday, May 18, 2009
It's an odd thing about pain that after you feel it for long enough you start to just ignore it. The giant purple and yellow bruise on my shoulder is still there from the line drive blast I took while pitching last Wednesday. The muscle I pulled in my side still hurts when I sneeze. My right ankle is still all crunchy from repeated sprains and dislocations suffered by myriad basketball games and too much rollerskating. But, oddly enough, I'm feeling no pain from anything. Even my lower back, which always seems to be tight and annoying from too much desk work, feels fine today. I was able to bend over easily to examine the cut I got on my left leg yesterday while hopping the picket fence. (Note to self: hop higher.)
I feel good. It's an unsual feeling; perhaps even a bit scary, but I think I could get used to it.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Math Guy One: What?
Gleno the Unraedy: Back at Randolph High, I remember as a junior all the seniors running around, swapping yearbooks, and signing them for each other.
Gleno the Unraedy: Come my senior year, we got our yearbooks. A girl I knew somewhat was the first to hand me her yearbook and ask me to sign it. I handed her mine, she handed me hers.
Gleno the Unraedy: She signed mine.
Gleno the Unraedy: I signed hers on the picture, like she had done.
Gleno the Unraedy: As I'm doing it, I'm saying to myself, "How is it that multiple people can sign all sign each others? There isn't enough room."
Gleno the Unraedy: She hands me back mine.
Gleno the Unraedy: I look down at it and realize that she signed her name over her own picture.
Gleno the Unraedy: I closed hers and handed it to her. Smiled, and made sure I never saw her again.
Gleno the Unraedy: I blush to this day thinking about it.
Gleno the Unraedy: I had signed my name over her picture.
Math Guy One: That's one of the funniest things I have heard in a looooong time.
Gleno the Unraedy: That action makes me one of the four stupidest people alive.
Math Guy One: I am on a conference call that I am heavily involved in. Thank heavens for MUTE.
Gleno the Unraedy: If God gave me one mulligan to use on the one thing regret most in my life, it would be that.
Math Guy One: At least you smelled that something strange was going on.
Gleno the Unraedy: I had never signed a yearbook before. No one told me and I was too stupid to have thought it through.
Gleno the Unraedy: Every 8 years or so, she has call to pull out her yearbook… Maybe she wanted to remember a teacher's name… maybe her kids wanted to see what she looked like....
Gleno the Unraedy: "Mommy, who wrote on your face?"
Gleno the Unraedy: And there is my name.
Gleno the Unraedy: In blue, indelible ink.
Gleno the Unraedy: Immortalizing my own stupidity for time and eternity.
Gleno the Unraedy: She will never forget who did it to her.
Gleno the Unraedy: She will never forget the guy's name.
Gleno the Unraedy: I fully expect that one day I will wake up one night with an erie feeling and see her standing over my bed with a gun.
Math Guy One: That is a wonderful story. I want to search my memory bank for a comparable story. I will get back to you with what I hope will be a gem.
Math Guy One: People around me probably think I am crying.
Math Guy One: I need to pay attention to this call. I cannot stop laughing.
Math Guy One: You have ruined my career....again.
Gleno the Unraedy: I'm glad to have been of service.
Math Guy One: I remember you talking me into going to the beach one day. The next day I lost my job.
Math Guy One: That was another great help you have been.
Gleno the Unraedy: Hey, I couldn't have predicted that!
Math Guy One: You are not evil, but you facilitate the potential for evil to happen to others. It's a gift.
Gleno the Unraedy: I only use my powers of evil for good.
Gleno the Unraedy: Well, sort of.
Math Guy One: Not everyone can do this without actually being guilty of anything.