Braindump topic equals work

You know it’s going to be a good day when the red light is blinking on your work phone and you’ve got seven missed calls and about forty e-mails from the day before. Not my record, but still, it augurs great things.

I am yet to grasp why some of my colleagues watch Dr Phil in the lunch room during their break. For goodness’ sake, don’t we already get enough of people’s dramas during business hours?

I need to develop a system for letting people know I am on the phone when I’m using my headset. My current system of sticking a post-it note to the side of my head which reads, ‘ON THE PHONE’ seems to have a questionable success rate.

I suspect that I am one of only four twenty-three year-old men in Australia who could put a baby seat in a car blindfolded.

My team has a wheelchair which we call the Feelgood Chair. The wheelchair was first acquired (and possibly stolen from an unfortunate but not really security-minded paraplaegic) for Team Day 2007, and became an integral part of the shudder Pink Team’s quest for glory. Now known as the Feelgood Chair, it is located at our desks and is available for anyone in the team to utilise to case plan, nut out an issue, take a break from writing afrodavids, or just sit and think. We are also hatching plans to start wheelchair time trial races down the main corridor.

My boss’ boss (metaboss? hypermanager?) has an amusing approach to staff who are burnt out. “You know you actually get paid more per hour than I do, right? How many hours a month do you work? Yeah, I thought so.”

Does three mugs of chai (teabag chai, not the real stuff) consumed in three hours count as some kind of chai overdose? Am I addicted?

I learnt today that it is really, really difficult to cold-call random people without revealing the place where you work. Maybe some kind of fake pizza delivery business name is in order, so you could convincingly ask for someone and then just apologise and hang up if it’s the wrong person.

Little three year-old people who think you’re the most awesome person ever are cute until they call you ‘Daddy’.

No, I can’t talk about what happened in Ambarvale.