(no subject)

[cblj_backup]

This one elderly woman has been calling me all day because my desk number is the number of a company she worked for in the 1970s who apparently still have some of her 401K. She's actually managed to make contact with the company, but every time she gets confused, she calls me.

Last time she called, she was confirming an area code of a phone number someone else gave her.

"Is it 773 or 312? When I call 312 I get a busy signal."
"Well, ma'am, the best I can do is suggest you try 773."

While I was on the phone with her -- Phone #1 -- both Phone #1's second line and Phone #2's first line rang. And the UPS guy got stuck in the (broken) door, which was just as well because he prevented the food delivery guy from entering until I'd dealt with the Epic Telephones.

I knew I shouldn't have said I was coping better. Since then, it's been like some kind of industrial stress test only instead of a car it's my ability to deal with chaos.

Comments

[copperbadge.livejournal.com]

Okay, I'll bite -- who's Raymond Jardine? All google turns up is a bunch of personal pages for people named that...

[elucreh.livejournal.com]

"Have you ever seen the commercial for garbage bags where they test the strength of the bag by seeing how many pounds of pressure they can put on it before it breaks?"

"Yeah? So?"

"So that's Jardine - a garbage bag hooked up to a hydraulic press, doing his best not to fall apart in spite of the guy who keeps turning the knob up."



(Jardine is the...hrmmm. His role is a little hard to define. Let's say...Jardine is both the challenge and the the hardly-even-subtextual homoerotic romantic object of Gordon Korman's wonderful A Semester in the Life of a Garbage Bag.)

[copperbadge.livejournal.com]

Aha! LOL, that makes more sense now.