Skip to main content

Working Girl

So this post was supposed to be about the fact that I have a job.  But I'm kind of tweaking right now.  By that I mean I've been tracking my blackberry delivery on UPS.com.  This is ridiculous to do.  This is ridiculous to do because:  I know it was sent out at 7:00AM yesterday.  I know It stopped in Kentucky (7:01PM) then Jamaica, Queens (12:04AM), then Brooklyn (3:25AM).  I also know that it was put on the truck at 8:01 AM for delivery. Meaning the next step is delivery. Meaning UPS.com has nothing more to tell me.  Meaning, checking UPS.com is ridiculous.  *Sigh*

So next there's the door check.  I can't remember whether I said it needed to be signed for.  (insert door check) I don't want the doorbell to stick and not ring. (insert door check) And I can't miss him because then I'll have to wait EVEN LONGER. (insert door check) 'til the truck route is done and then I'll have to go to some random UPS store that's not even close to where I live or I could wait til the next day, which I'm sorry sir is not going to happen. (insert door check)  Reason why the door check is ridiculous:

a.  My dog is outside.  She innately hates all uniformed mail carriers and thus announces their arrivals with disdainful barks.
b.  My doorbell rings annoyingly, but melodically, through the entire house.
c.  UPS should rethink staffing if a mail-person can't ring a doorbell.  

In other news.

I am a glorified bitch and complaint-hearer.  I'm working for a judge who rents me out on occasion to David Yassky or rather TLC.  For those of you who don't know what TLC is..that would be the Taxi & Limousine Commission.  So I basically paralegal style prosecute cases on behalf of consumers to a judge who then rules to reprimand a driver, revoke license, find not guilty.  For my judge I help recruit major private companies to donate high powered lawyers to give legal advice (well...technically the court cant give advice but they can provide information) to people who are in danger of losing their homes.  In addition to other things...I wont talk about.

Here's the thing.

For a little while I thought I talked about personal things because I didn't have a job.  I mean it seems like everyone talks about their job.  I'm probably just someone without one who has to rely on commonplace anecdotes in order to fill the gap.  But now, as a working girl (actually I've only started one of the two thingies) I realize I would rather talk about non-work things.  In fact non-work things are way more fun, unless there's real trashy office drama.  In which case, I probably shouldn't blog about that.  I feel like there could be some jail time and fines for blogging about government agencies.   Hmm....that is something to think about.  Anyway we'll see how this goes.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

"On Losing" or "On Dating Down" or "On 'Jesus He is Not As Attractive As Her'"

I people watch. I am friends with people watchers. We watch people together. And sometimes we play games. In parks we see if people actually match their dogs. At cafes we look at couples and decide who is the loser and who is the winner. I'll define: The Loser: The person who is, for all shallow purposes, more attractive, probably smarter, and/or cooler. Also the one who has more friends. The Winner: The inferior of the pair who has somehow been blessed with money or a good heart or the psychotic break/blindness of their partner. You play this game long enough and you start to notice a trend. Girls lose so often and they lose bad. It gets so much more tragic when you move beyond the game. You begin to understand that this silly game is emblematic of life. You think of your friends who cry over losers (in this game winners). I mean guys who were, are, and will be, losers in life. And then with the slow, horrifying suspense of a nouvelle vague film you t
2 comments
Read more

Dear United Healthcare Insurance

I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry I graduated and you felt you had to leave me. But I never wanted to part ways with you. I need you in (and for) my life. I've been so sick, actually ill, all week. And while I would usually turn into your united-caring arms, I find myself alone. The pain has been unbearable. I want you back. I need you back. When we first got together I had no baggage, no pre-existing conditions. But now I'm older and life has matured me and I need you more than ever. But is the cost too high? What premium am I willing to pay for your undivided-extended coverage? The truth is I'll pay anything. Just don't deny me. Can you resist this face? Lots of love, Coping with Cobra after College
1 comment
Read more

I Realize It's Wednesday But...

So Big C works on Irving Place and I used to always make him take me to this mediocre Chinese food place down the street.  It was a sort of reparation for forcing me (an overweight, bookish, and oh-so-awkward) middle schooler to meet co-workers and bosses at his company and wait for hours..... hours for him to decide that he had worked enough for that day.   I never fully understood why I liked this place so much.  It's got this gaudy decor with garish chandeliers and faux-wood panelling.  It's like those party venues which advertise on public access television and where you imagine the Gotti family has hosted every special occasion ever. Tonight I find myself heading back there with AB and co.  But on my last visit (during the summer) I made a shocking revelation which would wondrously connect my current and middle-school self in some existential meaning-of-life way.  Two words.  Free wine. I've never been someone who's huge on going out of my way for free things..
1 comment
Read more