Mar. 11th, 2008

Oh man. Oh, man. This has been the most surreal Tuesday of my life.

For a start, one of the guys in the office said, "Do you sing? You sing a capella, don't you?" after hearing me talk on the telephone earlier. I said "No, I'm tone-deaf" and was forced to sing Oor Hamlet to convince him that I was not material for his burgeoning a capella group.

Then two people from a temp agency showed up and tried to pitch me on using their agency and I couldn't get them to understand that I am a clerk. I finally gave them our website address, told them to look up Human Resources, and sent them on their way.

AND THEN.

Building Super: I'm here for a hand job.
Sam: Excuse me?
Building Super: Someone called and said you had a hand job for me.
Sam: A h -- oh. A hang job. Hanging artwork. Yes. Yes of course.

And it's only eleven o'clock.

Please, all I ask is that I be allowed to survive until this evening, because the weather is nice enough for grilling and I want to have flame-broiled hamburgers for dinner.

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