We received a note today tucked in with our delivery of part of the Sunday Star Ledger from our new newspaper carrier. The note contained the sentence "At the same time I pretent to do this job rabid and actually," so I'm guessing that his first language is not English. You've got to admire that kind of devotion to a paper route, though.
I am comment enabled! Feel free to respond to your heart's content. In the meantime, Dave and I are headed out to a diner with his brother and brother's girlfriend. Dave's parents are currently on a plane back from Ireland, which is totally freaking me out. We'll be picking them up at Newark tonight.
Hopefully I'll get back in time to catch at least some of Miss America. There will be much snarkiness.
Friday, September 21, 2001
Was it not possible to get, oh, I don't know, an AMERICAN to sing "God Bless America?" I mean, I'm totally biased against Celine "Mighty ChestThumper" Dion anyway, but gah.
I heard a quote on news radio this morning from an aviation security expert that really gave me pause. He said that security screeners, the people who check passengers and their baggage as they pass through airports, would view "landing a job at Cinnabon as a huge promotion."
It's interesting to see that some things never change as I move from company to company -- namely, that certain departments tend to give you expansive documents to review at the latest moment possible, and then complain when you actually dare to make changes to a customer or vendor's form because they're so egregiously biased against our company. At least the people here are nicer about it.
Thursday, September 20, 2001
After spending almost an hour and forty-five minutes in traffic tonight, I finally reached my realtor's office. She took me to an amazing house. I think I'm in love.
The question is whether we can win the bidding war.
In other, slightly related news, I hate my landlords. Another snarky note was left in the door today, bitching about our cats, but also wanting to know how the sample of Viagra-like cream for women she's now pimping was working out for us. I'm going to tell her exactly what she can do with her menthol-impregnated, pyramid-scheme-supporting, overpriced-like-you-wouldn't-believe newfound road to wealth.
Here's an occasion where I am reminded how amazingly small the world can be: as a result of my post the other day about Deloitte and Touche workers moving into our office building, I received a very concerned email from a gentleman in Malta who was seeking news about the safety of someone he knew. I was able to contact the appropriate Deloitte Consulting information center, and was told via email today that the person is indeed safe and sound.
Attention: I am wearing cranky pants today. Further bulletins as events warrant.
10:44 AM Comment
Huzzah! The computers are back online, although I understand that all of the field folk have had their logins disabled so that they can't infect the servers again.
Now for some reason we can't get any incoming phone calls. If it's not one thing, it's another.
Wednesday, September 19, 2001
Well, I would have updated today, but it appears that most if not all of the servers at work are totally toast, thanks to the NIMDA virus. We have no email, no web access, and no shared drives, until at least Monday. It's nearly impossible to get work done under those conditions.
Tuesday, September 18, 2001
I had something that I was all set to write about today, something completely not World Trade Center related, but I was foiled by the failure of my company's connection to the internet, and now my brain refuses to remember.
My temporary cubicle (I'll be getting an office in a month or so when we finish fitting out office space) is unfortunately located right next to the kitchen. This is bad for several reasons, not the least of which is the noise level. People seem to think nothing of standing in the doorway to the kitchen and carrying on loud conversations; I have a sliding glass door, but this does nothing to really mute the sound.
As a result, I've been subjected to some unbelievably stupid commentary over the last two days. Today's most inane involved closing immigration to all people of Middle Eastern descent. I mean, I understand that people are upset, but come on. The scariest part was that the other ten or twelve people in the room were heartily agreeing with the moron who was speaking.
Monday, September 17, 2001
It's the quiet that's getting to me.
There are no horns honking, no kids yelling, no music playing. If there's laughter, it's so muted that I can't hear it. It's like I'm underwater, or my head is filled with cotton. I'm disabled by the sadness. And I don't feel like I'm entitled to any of it, because I don't know anyone personally who's been lost. I know people who have lost someone, or I hear stories at work, or in the grocery store, or I read them online. I can't help the way it feels, though. I saw the skyline yesterday as we drove up Route 3 and I thought that my head would burst from the unfathomability of it all. It's just gone. All those people, all those lives, all that promise and laughter and love, snuffed out in clouds of ash and glass and soot and cement. I think that I should go on, live my life as though nothing has happened, be the same person I was on the early morning of that Tuesday.
Do not stand at my grave and weep; I am not there, I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow. I am the diamond glints on snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain. I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in the morning's hush I am the swift uplifting rush Of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry; I am not there, I did not die. -- Mary E. Frye
I'm discovering, as I start my third week of work here, that this company is obsessed with food. The fact that I sit right across from the cafeteria is just NOT good. There are always welcome breakfasts, extra meeting food, and today, Ben and Jerry's sundaes to celebrate the one-year anniversary of one of our drugs.
The office is just crazy today. Deloitte and Touche has moved all of their displaced employees from the World Financial Center into their office in this building. What does this mean for me? I had to park about three miles away. Seriously, though, this is but a small inconvenience.
I already bought some mutual funds this morning, doing my part for the economy, and Dave and I are working on a mortgage preapproval before I go and see the inside of a really lovely house on Thursday. The interest rates have just dropped again, so this could be a really great thing for our house purchasing power.
Sunday, September 16, 2001
We're going out to look at houses again. As Dave mentioned in his blog, some ass (on Wednesday, which is why I am calling him or her an ass, because I think that there were other, greater things to be concerned about on that date) bought the house we looked at last weekend. There's a new listing, though, which is here in Montclair and which looks promising. Further updates as events warrant.
3:05 PM Comment
Copyright 2001 by Heather. Don't make me come over there.
