Private Pooper

I work in an office building which has bathrooms of all three floors. Or….there are bathrooms are the first and second floor; and a hidden gem in the basement.

As with most office buildings, there are multiple stalls in the rest room and they are rarely ever full. When you have other business, which requires a bit more privacy, that is what the upstairs is for. The facilities on the second floor, are just about identical; with the exception of a little extra stall at the end of the room. PERFECTO! Problem is EVERYONE in the office knows what the upstairs is for. So basically, if you are caught descending the staircase of shame……anyone who sees you knows you had to poop. No matter how many times you have read the book “Everybody Poops”, no one really wants to have it noticed.

About a month ago, while walking off a stressful situation at work, I found a “locker room” in the basement. The only thing at the end of the staircase is the elevator, a door to the garage/parking lot and both a men’s and woman’s locker rooms. No one had ever mentioned these options….hmmmmmm…..wonder what’s in there. Turns out, two showers, lockers, plenty of counter space and outlets to get ready and ….A TOILET!

Just like the one upstairs, you have to walk right up on it, to know if it is open or not. And because it is so hidden it requires signals, to note occupancy. Today was the first time, I walked in on someone washing their hands after using the loo. There was no turning back, we all knew what I was in here for; so I made a passive comment about it being full upstairs. I locked the door, she left and all was right with the world…..until I heard the door slowly creep open. To protect my identity and announce “NO VACANCY” I flushed. That’s the international signal for GTFOIP (get the eff out…I’m pooping)

What makes this different from the bathrooms on the second floor? Cause when you leave, you step into the elevator; and everyone will just assume you parked in the garage.

Asia Time

I was tasked with connecting the boss man with an executive from a local conglomerate; and looped into a virtual introduction with the dude’s assistant. I replied with the usual niceties, asked for some availability options and committed to making all the necessary arrangements.

Rather than work with me, homies admin simply replied with a single time on a single day that would work for her. Oh! This must be one important individual. Thanks 😊

Since, apparently, we are only able to discuss one date at a time; I replied with my counter offer. I gave her the option of another day…but offered DOUBLE the time options…because I am an overachiever like that. Unfortunately, it was a no go.

Seems her boss, recently received marching orders to travel the week I was hoping to make a connection happen. She shared the details of his travel plans with me and asked if I thought we could set the meeting up in …get this…”Asia time”.

What? I have been a support professional for over 10 years and I have never heard of ASIA time. That’s not to say that I know everything there is to know about Outlook. There is a chance that something has changed and additional features added since last week… I googled it.

There are eleven time zones for ASIA….ELEVEN!

I replied to her email, wondering if there is a standard time zone she uses, when booking ASIAN travel for her boss. I got an out of office reply…..

On August FIFTH, her OOO says she will be out from August SEVENTH through the FIFTEENTH…with zero access to email. Wonder why she wasn’t able to answer her emails two days before vacation? Maybe her outlook is set on ASIA time.

Girl Power

I am female. I am a 46-year-old female, with no formal secondary education; that has been a proud member of the workforce since I was 14. I have been gaining experience, finding/applying for positions and supporting myself nicely for the past 32 years. Of course I have been passed up for positions…but that is what will happen every time when IA screens applications, not humans.

I never gained or lost a job because of my boobs.

I was never pass over for a promotion because of my boobs.

I was never promised a role, position or salary in return for an afternoon with my boobs.

…and I have worked for some of the most misogynistic ass hats on the planet.

Please don’t start drafting hate mail in your head, I am aware there is an issue; I just have no experience.

Today, I was drafting a post for our office “Girls Only Club”, and it hit me….there has been a support group created in most of the companies I have worked at since 2013. WOW!

The first one, was part of a team members MBA program. During the kick off, I didn’t really understand the reason it was necessary; but over the next 3-4 meetings it became much clearer. The CFO of our organization spoke about the struggles she had throughout her career. It was sad to listen to what she had experienced, witnessed, and heard. From a firm assuming that she would never return from maternity leave after her first child to the uneducated comments made after she was named the most successful person in finance for our city. I hung on her every word. There was no way I would ever allow this to happen to me.

The rest of the groups have had a significantly smaller impact on me. Wait….let me re-phrase …..I’ve experienced hardly more than a group hug. Seems it has become more of the “in” thing to do, and less something to move us forward.

Some companies simply a host female only lunch on National Women’s day…maybe to show the board members they are progressive. Just your typical corporate dog and pony show. In 2014O, after listening to the guest speaker encourage us to speak up and “stop the line” if necessary; I wrote a long email to the HRBP about questionable practices I had witnessed. Still waiting for his response.

A start up I worked for, kicked off their Women’s Empowerment Council, with an expert who spoke for over an hour about the gender pay gap. While the subject is of the utmost importance…every female walked out of the room, with the look of “why bother” on their faces. … not quite rally that the leadership was looking for. Not shocking…..considering the leadership. Please pray for all of their wives and children!!!!

There was a group at the software conglomerate; I briefly worked for last year. It started prior to me joining so it was just a matter of being added to the group alias. It was less of a female empowering opportunity, and more of like “safety in numbers”. There were so few females in the entire organization, female leaders probably wanted them to make sure they felt good; and they used the time to introduce new female members to the rest. Unfortunately, because of my position a lot of the content was not relevant to me, so I quit attending.

Some companies believe a book club that selects female only author’s counts. Some companies encouraged females to gather once a month and think of ways to make life better. I am sure there are bosses out there who think putting tampons in the unisex bathroom is female empowering.

What are we actually DOING to make a difference??

I think people need to answer that question FIRST. BEFORE they order cupcakes, pink napkins and send the calendar invitation.

We need to NETWORK! We need to write endorsements! Write me at and tell me what your company does. Do you attend?

Cost of Living

The term often used when people, business or the government want to generalize why they are raising the rates. I am not sure how they pick the number….but they always claim it to be the “cost of living”. Turns out… one is paying what it actually costs to live.

We continue to pour funds into a postal system that has never run in the black. They raise the rates 3 cents here, 4 cents there and say it is the cost of living. How much does it actually cost to send a letter from point A to point B? Does anyone know?? With the employees, buildings, fleets of cars, trucks and planes; PLUS benefits, retirement and taxes….I bet its closer to $1. But we only pay 50 Cents. Or, however much it is these days.

How about the small private school Mini went to for the first 3 years. With the rent, wages, benefits, curriculum, supplies and insurance I bet it cost something like $500/month/child. (I am sure it was more…I am just talking out my ass) EVERY year when they started talking tuition increases, all the parents would immediately begin complaining, that they were not sure they would be able to afford to keep their kids enrolled. Turns out that 65% of the families were on some sort of scholarship or discounted tuition program. If it costs $500/month/child….but the majority of the families aren’t paying it…OF COURSE they would be CONSTANTLY fundraising or increasing rates. DUH!

2.5% increase in our Ferry Fares are not going to keep us from being in this exact same situation next summer. Increase it by $2/car and let us start stashing money away for preventative maintenance!

**DISCLAIMER *** This is not how I manage my own finances. I am a spectator to the mayhem, and have created this platform for me to share my opinion on how OTHERS can improve 😊

Unfortunately, this also requires us to manage said funds….and we are not capable of that. I believe this is the loophole where I think the “cost of living” comes from. If it’s just a few bucks here and there…no one will notice the mismanagement. I WILL!

Today I called the storage facility where our unit is. We got a notice yesterday that did not make any sense what-so-ever. While I can pretty much assume what they are trying to say, when it comes to matters of my debit card…I do not fuck around. I asked to speak with someone about a confusing letter I got yesterday. The way the poor woman replied, made it clear; I was not her first call of the day about this.

The notice said that effective 9/1 our rent would be $5. And in the grid below it showed the amount due for August was $135 not the usual $130.

She confirmed that it was supposed to read that beginning 9/1 our rent would be increasing by $5; from $130 to $135. She said that a replacement letter was going to be sent and because of the error and the increase would begin October 1st now….not September.

Because there aren’t THAT many units in the tiny facility, $5/unit isn’t going to require a change in their FCC filings…..but it will be a nice little increase for the owners pockets. So of course, I asked why; and immediately thought, “if they even think about using the words cost of living, or I will come through this phone…”

Because the way I see it…. It has already cost them time, supplies and postage. Then phone calls and business time to explain it repeatedly all day. Only to re-write the letters using more time, supplies and postal system time. This would fall under mismanaged funds than cost of living.

If you want to give the post office 50% of what it costs, then make them do it TWICE. Use your own money…..I’ll keep my $5

Lucky Number 17

Lucky number 17

My friend Jennifer was born on September 17th. I have other friends who were married on that date, but when it comes around… is always Jennifer’s birthday.

Before cell phones, we had pagers. When you enter in a phone number, and you are not sure the recipient will recognize it….you enter a code to identify yourself. Jennifer’s number was 17.

When cell phones became affordable, we all got one. Jennifer’s number ended in 1700.

Jennifer passed away in 2015.

Now when I hear about an event happening on that date, it makes me think of Jennifer.

When the office newsletter comes out….I always read the names of anyone who shares the same birthday as Jennifer.

Today, when the whack job getting evicted on Judge Judy, gave “September. I think around the 17th” as the last day she was at the home…I thought of Jennifer.

People say that time heals all wounds…but they lie. It is my belief, that there isn’t enough time available to heal the wounds left behind by loss. But it does get easier. Over the past 4 years I have learned to find comfort in the memories that we made, I have stopped crying the moment I see a picture or hear her name and I have learned to celebrate every day…because she didn’t get to.

So today, when Judge Judy was showing this squatter where the bear shit in the woods…I smiled when the mentioned Jennifer’s birthday and remembered how awesome she was.

I miss you Jennifer……everyday

Fighting Tigers

I chat a lot at work. I chat with people I work with now, people I used to work with, some family, a lot of friends. I chat via Skype, TEAMs, email, text, Whatsap, Zoom…you name it I have a friend I can talk to on that system. No one seems to mind though…..cause I am always happily typing away at my desk. (and watching judge judy…I love me some judge judy)

This morning, while getting ready for work in the world’s smallest bathroom; I SLAMMED my pinky toe into the wall. I am certain it registered at the seismologist station on Mt. Rainier. The feeling that radiated up my leg was worthy of truck stop expletives. I think you could actually see it swelling up.
Guess I am wearing flats today.

I hobbled down the stairs, to the car and then into the office. All while my foot developed a heart beat of its own.

I was able to make it to Fred Meyer, but almost called an Uber for the trip back; and it is just across the parking lot. I took my foot out to let my pinky toe rest against the cold file cabinet under my desk, then struggled to put my shoe back on. It was going to be a rough rest of the day.

About an hour later my homey at the front desk, sent me an IM asking if I wanted join her in a walk to Starbucks. I had to shamefully tell her that I didn’t think I could make it….BUT if she would consider bringing me back one…she would be my favorite. And if any of the baristas ask about me…tell them I hurt myself fighting tigers.

Right then a team member walked by my desk and says……Fighting tigers hu?

OH SNAP! Note to self……keep your chat in a small window on the laptop…and dim!

Do you know where I can find BBQ?

Boss man asked me to get him some lunch. He handed me is VISA and said he wanted a pulled pork sandwich, followed by us both saying “from Dickey’s” at the same time. Grabbed my phone, sunglasses and purse; and headed to the car. I knew right where I was going. I have never eaten at Dickey’s, nor would I…I do not like BBQ. But I had heard great things about this place from my dad’s side kick, so it made perfect sense that the boss man would be craving the best BBQ on the east side.

I pulled into the smallest driveway,found the one spot left; and followed all the signs to the correct door. I walked into a room resembling an office AND cafeteria. From way behind the counter an old lady, with no teeth said something I wasn’t able to make out. When I didn’t respond she said it a little louder. “all I gots are some little chicken pieces”. To which I replied “Hi! I was hoping to order a pulled pork sandwich”. “Naw. That won’t be ready before dinner.” She said. I simply turned and walked out. I wasn’t 100% sure this was even a restaurant and I wanted out of here before I caught something. I Googled BBQ, hit up a place not too far down the road and headed back to the office.

Delivered the Sammie , returned cc and put a pile of napkins on his desk; then went back to what I was doing before my marching orders.

When Hubz came home I was telling him about my lunchtime adventures. I told him how the driveway to Dickey’s is hidden making it kinda hard to find. Hubz looked at me like I had three eyes and says “I guess. There are a lot of stores in that little place.”

Wait! …. What?

He told me that Dickey’s is in the shopping center across from MOD pizza. He was right. So if that was Dickey’s…..where did I go?

After we stopped laughing we got out our respective devices and looked it up. I went to DIXIE’S! Dickeys is actually, figuratively and literally around the corner from the office. Dixie’s is 5 times as far and where I got the sandwich…another two times the distance. JD asked me if boss man said anything about how long it took for me to get lunch. I said with a straight face…NO! He was so happy to get the food he didn’t care. Hubz : “he was probably STARVING!”

What makes this hysterical is….it’s not the first time this has happened. I have ended up at the wrong restaurant on more than one location; though in my defense it was the correct genre. Different name…same fare.