more on running.

This past Tuesday+per the previous post: I ran for most of 15 minutes in borrowed Chucks at the Y.

I'M SORE! FROM TUESDAY! What have I done wrong?!

I want to run some more, but I can hardly get up from my chair+walk around without creaking+lumbering about. Oof.

I actually did run for a few yesterday. From the BART parking lot to the BART platform. I didn't want to miss my train. Missing the train by seconds makes me so very upset. So defeated. So, I ran. I was sore+huffing by the time I got to the platform, but I didn't miss my train. And I wasn't angry. Cus see: running anywhere usually makes me SO angry. So. Freaking. Angry. Angrier than missing the train, I'd say. Like:

"I can't believe I'm running cus I didn't leave work on time+I know that the train comes at a certain time so why have I allowed myself to get to the train just in time for it to close on my nose while the people inside have a momentarily sympathetic look on their face. Now I have to run to catch the train. Run. RUN! HOOF! GO! SWEATING! LOOKING LIKE A GALLOPING PREYING MANTIS! ARGGGGH! DYINGGGGGG!"

That's how I used to feel running.

Now, I think I'm on an upswing as far as the fitness goes. I'm in so-so shape. my smaller clothes (that I keep - DUH!) are fitting me. I ran on Tuesday, December 12. I ran again to BART on December 14+didn't kick people off of the platform cus I missed my train+cus I hate running.

When will I stop being sore? I'm ready for the treadmill again.

as a reminder: don't be funny at work.

Our work fridge gets stank. One time, I cleaned it out+someone had a bag full of meat that had leaked+there was blood+pathogens+cooties EVERYWHERE. But, whatever, sometime you gotta shop at lunch to bring home the bacon. Literally. Stank fridge is one of those things where you take the good with the bad. The good: I get a paycheck. The bad: sometimes work people leave their stank food in the fridge.

Another stinky culprit is the microwave. I’m not a fan of microwaves. *Jerry Seinfeld voice* I mean, what exactly are micro waves, anyway? But that’s a whole ‘nother paranoid rant that I’ll save for another time, or not.

ANYWAY.

The work fridge gets stank cus we’re human. We forget that we brought something+it hangs in the fridge for a few weeks+get’s furry. Me, personally? I don’t really put food in the work fridge. I’m a grazer, so I eat all day+I usually bring dry foods to eat+aside from that, I stay away from common areas (lunch room, break room, near the copier, the water cooler, etc…) as much as possible. Cus when you’re in common areas at work, people what to talk to you. I don’t really like alla that talking shit at work… If I had my way, I’d be like Milton in Office Space+work in some work dungeon. Srsly. I’d be so much happier.

THAT ASIDE:

The work fridge gets stank. So, there’s a fridge cleaning every other Thursday. Folks are assigned days+they send out an email reminding everyone that if there name+date isn’t on food in the fridge, it’ll get tossed.

This past Thursday, I brought yogurt into work. The fridge-cleaning email went out+I thought ‘I better put my name/date on my yogurt or it’ll get tossed+I’ll be sorrrrrrrrrrrrrry.’ Well, I got side-tracked+forgot. Friday, I go to the fridge for my yummy yogurt. I brought in my bag of oats that I keep at my desk ready to pour into my yogurt. I had my cup of water, my phone cus I was gonna play Words with Friends while I took 3 minutes away from my desk during a slow time in the common work area of the break room. Just as I was about to get my probiotic+live+active cultures on, I realized that my yogurt was tossed the day before. Another apathetic victim of the weekly fridge cleaning. Totally my bad. I literally groaned+pouted for about five minutes. Then I pulled myself up by my denim belt loops (cus it was casual Friday+all)+thought, NO MORE. No more will I lose a yogurt to the fridge cleaner+my co-workers shouldn’t either. So, here’s what I did:

• Found a permanent marker.
• Rubberbanded the marker to the fridge in a way that someone couldn't just walke off with it, but they'd still be able to mark their foods.
• Wrote a funny note about how I didn't want anyone to end up like me: sad+yogurtless on a Friday.
• Felt good about it.

Well, today (Monday), I go into the break room to do a drive-by water fill (make it quick; keep my eyes down; pretend I don’t notice anyone else in there; don’t socialize by any means necessary). Just as I’m about to leave, I look up+see that, while the marker was still on the fridge, my note was removed.

???

I mean, the note wasn’t mean or anything. I didn’t call anyone out for anything. I even said in the note that it was my bad that my yogurt got tossed. But someone took it down… Why? No jokes allowed, or what?  

As a side note, there are about five other notes in the break room reminding people to flush the sink down after they use it, telling them to refill the paper towel container if they used the last bit of paper towel, advising that certain foods like broccoli+fish shouldn’t be microwaved cus they stink up the office, etc.etc.etc. It’s like Captain Obvious gets to leave a note, but I leave a note cus I KNOW I’m not the only one who forgets to put their name/date on foods+mine gets removed.

This is why I keep these people at arm’s length. Cus, seriously... Why? Am I being irrationally upset right now? Is this lingering bitterness about not having my yogurt? Do I retaliate? I want to know why you think someone would take my note down.

fuck yo' candle.

Nothing brings the mean out in me quite like work.

A co-irker - the smile-in-your-face, psuedo-soccer-mom, pill-popping, suburb-dwelling, crappy-candle-crappy-makeup-crappy-handbag-crappy-diet-drink-party-having, "you're-different-than-other-black-people-Goldie" kind of co-irker - threw me under the bus one day. In turn, I set the record straight with those involved (I won)+threw away some funky ass toxic-ladden candle she gave me for Xmas one year that had been sitting in my desk for months. She was a bad seed+I didn't want her bad juju near my stuff.

I remember tossing it at the end of the day+thinking the cleaning folks would dump it out. Through some fluke, they didn't toss it+co-worker, having peered into my rubbish bin (for whatever reason) asked me a few days later how I liked the candle that she'd given me.

She knew I tossed it because it was the first time we'd talked since throwing me under the bus+I'd kept her shitty candle stuffed away in my desk for MONTHS.

I told her I couldn't find it...

Morals of the story:

• Don't let anyone that isn't your people tell you that you're different than your people. Ever. This isn't pertinent to the story, really. Just don't let people talk to you that way.
• Don't take candles from bitchez. Candles are lightweight dumb home accessories anyway. I mean, have you ever been at someone's house+they have a dusty ass candle sitting around. Why?!
• Keep your shit straight so that bitchez can't throw you under the bus. Document, document, document. Do your work to the best of your ability. And then leave work at work.

irrationally embarrassing. 3.15.11.

Irrationally embarrassing moments are ones that shouldn't be too horribly embarrassing; they may not even go noticed. But these are things that I notice that I do that make me feel embarrassed for myself even if no one sees/notices/cares. I think them in my head+they make me laugh (usually). So I'll share. I wonder if the embarrassment is conveyed at all. Partake in my micro-shame, if you will.

I do this thing: if I'm sitting anywhere for an extended period of time, I curl my feet under myself+sit on them. Think virasana yoga pose, but in an "ergonomic" chair. It's a habit that I've has since I was a kid. I am squirmy+can't sit still long, so I sit on one leg, sit on the other, sit on both, sit regular+repeat. Not always in that order, but always moving in my seat. I can tell it makes people kinda uncomfy - like I'm bored or something. I can't help it. Seriously. I've tried. Sometimes my legs fall asleep so I try to keep it moving so they don't.

Today, I had to go to a meeting in SF. The meeting was about an hour, so I did my habitual leg rearranging. I stayed in one position for too long, I guess, +my legs had fallen asleep. At the end of the meeting, I looked down to grab my bag+my shoe (only one!) had fallen off sometime during the hour. From my mental calculation, I gather it'd been about 20 minutes. In 20 minutes I went from somewhat professional workerbee to meeting-time-shoe-kicker-offer.

People noticed, for sure.

When this happens, all you can do, really, is try to shake your legs awake+put your shoe back on like you meant to kick it off for the last 20 minutes or so. Or whatever.

I had on weird socks today, too.

validation.

Sometimes I get upset about my job. Moreso recently than in the past 7 years that I've been there. It's hard. I'm pulled a bunch of different ways. It's stressful. The office relocated from Oakland to Homogenous Pleasantville Lafayette. Etc.

But I'm lucky. I have a job.

Today, a co-worker who started working with my boss+me a year ago broke down+cried. She was frustrated for the same reasons I've felt frustrated.

In a round-about way, through her melt down, I felt validated. But not good-validated, bad-validated. It's not like I got a gold star for busting my butt for the past few years. It's like I got detention+my frienemy got detention with me. It sucks, but we're not alone!

It's like Lord of the Flies up in my office. I gotta get my Ralph on before I end up Piggy'd by some Jack Merridew posse-esque higher-ups, if you get what I'm sayin'.