Flex-- Feel the Burn!

Bring it on, Friday.

Behold, the awesomeness that is the "Flex Work Week".

I work. 35 hours a week. Whichever days I want!

Which means: (drumroll please...)

3 day weekends! Every week! Woo-hoo!

TGIThursday is tomorrow!

That's pretty much the most exciting thing in my life right now.

For this week's extra weekend day, me, Robin, and Laura (next door neighbor, one year younger than me but surprisingly cool) are going to hike around Cunningham Falls. There's also a lake there, so hopefully I can get rid of my SHORTS TAN.

What I plan on doing with my extra weekend time.

Speaking of things that make me an old person (work, awkward tan lines... I'm practically middle-aged), I am convinced I have a bone spur. There's this hard bump on my middle finger that hurts when I bend my finger (it's like right on the joint) or touch it. Both of which I do. A lot.

So I went on WebMD and such, and apparently bone spurs are like a big thing for people with ARTHRITIS. And AARP memberships.

The moral of the story is: I am old. And a joke.

Oh. My. God.

And you thought they were in China...

It's exactly what it looks like. My life has officially become an un-funny version of Office Space.

Seriously. Work's not usually as Dilbert-ish as I make it sound like, but HR has taken it upon themselves to make everyone be bestest best friends. Fowevuh.

In order to have this special bonding moment (or MONTH), we’ll be having the OFFICE OLYMPICS.

The opening ceremony/pizza lunch is the most promising event by far.

I've prepared a list of the events and who I think will take home the gold, as well as some of those who will be going home empty-handed.

Monday: Water cooler race (do you think they mean chugging races?)

Projected winner: Me. I’m in college.

Tuesday: Golf.


Projected winner: The Lobbyists and top execs have this one in the bag.

Wednesday: Office Walk Marathon.

Projected winner: Everyone’s a winner on this one. Getting paid to walk around and talk to your friends for as long as you possibly can? Maybe this company bonding thing isn’t as bad as I originally thought…

Thursday: Wastepaper basketball.

Projected losers: Cleaning staff.

Friday: CD Discus throw.

Projected losers: The Cds. And anything they happen to smash up against. And people who are standing too close and get blinded by the shards of disk that fly into their eyes. Do you think they’ll get a good settlement out of that?

Projected winner: The blind person.

But wait! –There’s more.

What you get when you google horse and elevator

Monday: Equestrian event.

Projected winner/loser: Whoever manages to get HORSES up the ELEVATOR.

Tuesday: Toilet paper bowling.

Projected loser: Whoever gets stranded on the toilet staying late at the office.

Wednesday: Pencil javelin throw.


Projected winner: Legal team. They’re gonna be really busy with all of these blindness lawsuits.

Thursday: Synchronized. Chair. Dancing.

Projected loser: The Interns. Being the slave of your department automatically gets you entered into this event-to-end all events. I pointed out that it’s hard to be synchronized with only one person, and everyone suddenly got very busy and had to go. Huh.

Friday: Closing Ceremonies.

Finally.

I wonder how much I’m going to get paid for these shenanigans.

Week 4: Fingers Crossed for More Cake

A girl can dream, right?

Week 4. 3 down, 5 to go. Then, it's back to school.

Bleh. As fun as camp W&L is, the prospect of having to do something even moderately intellectually stimulating, there are a bazillion things I would rather do.

I wish I could say, and then, it's back to my 300-foot yacht in the meditteranean. Or, back to my private spa with hot rocks and Swedish masseuses with my name on them. Or, inevitably, BACK TO THE FUTURE!!!!!!!!

I should make like a tree and get out of here.

Yeah. Another exciting day at the office. The best thing is, I've been here for 4 hours already, and have done squat. Well, I actually went to the department meeting where I told everyone I was doing nothing, and allegedly there are things for me to do this week.

We'll see.

I spent this fine morning reading comics online, facebooking, and making designs using the chain I keep my secutiry badge on. It's actually quite entertaining.

The best one? A jellyfish. Awesome.

I Swear I Wasn't on Drugs...

I wasn't, but it would explain a lot...

Last night was probably one of the weirder nights in my whole life.

First of all, I decided to take a nap at 5 pm, and woke up at 6 o'clock this morning (thank GOD, sleeping through work would've been a bad idea).

Then, I had the trippiest dream known to man.

I found this book in Dad's room, a really old leather book with a gold clasp. I opened it up and it was one of those make-your-own adventure stories. You know, the if you turn left, go to page 42, right, page 66 type books?

I start doing it, and he runs in and yells, "We have to leave! Now!" He snatches the book out of my hands and drags me out of the house and starts running. We end up in some sort of field, and he explains to me that he's not really Tim Takach, he's some sort of weird Star Trek-y name that I don't remember and the TZT thing is his secret identity because he has to hide his real identity. (Turns out Mom was one too, and Mr. Censoni, oddly enough.)

Because of the book. And now that I found it and started to read, I have to go into hiding too.

It turns out that this book was REAL. It seemed like some lame fantasy, but if someone could get to the good ending (there was only one), then the world would be saved. If you got to a bad ending, then you died exactly how the person in the book died, by dragon, landslide, whatever.

And while you're reading the book, the stuff happens. Like, I started out in a cave, and as soon as I chose to go left, I was in the cave and had to live through whatever problems were in that side of the cave. In that particular example, it was a bunch of freaky bats.

BUT, there were other things that knew about the existance of the Book, and they were trying to kill those who were trying to save the world with it.

We had to fake my death to allow me to get on with my new life, and it was really sad to watch all my friends and family crying (I think I cried in my sleep, actually). And I must say, props to dream parents for being such good actors!

Now that I knew about the Book, I could turn invisible to people who didn't know anything, but for the helpers and bad guys, I was totally visible. These Shadow People were chasing me the whole time too, they were actually shadows, but they had faces... Don't ask me how that works.

Then I woke up.

Does anyone else think I need mental help?

Or to write a book about that?

A Three Hour Tour

Unfortunately not our tour guide.

And unfortunately not that type of tour.

First of all, it turned out to be a sushi restaurant yesterday. SO disappointing.

Today, in another time-wasting venture, the interns of EEI, Duke Energy, AEP, and some other place I don't remember the name of, took a guided tour of the House side of the Capitol.

And guess what? I got lost.

Twice.

The first time was getting to the right office. In the email I received, it said Myrick's office (D-NC), Cannon Room 205 at 9:20.


205 is some guy from California.


230 is Myrick, but when we go in there, the intern's like, "Well, she's not a Democrat, so I don't think this is it. Plus, our tour is at 9:30."

Me and some other EEI interns are now officially wandering around with no idea what to do, while trying to not look like terrorists looking for the best place to plant a bomb.

We're about to leave when we see this girl Hope from the intern lunch yesterday stroll through the security checkpoint, and it turns out we basically got all of the wrong information. We ARE supposed to be at the 9:30 tour, room 230, with the REPUBLICAN representative Myrick.

The intern looked at us like we were insane when we came back into the office five minutes later.

We go on the tour, which took FOREVER. The tour itself was probably about half an hour, tops, but we had to go through 2 different security checkpoints, and the lines were ridiculous. We saw the original center of DC, where Washington was meant to be buried (he didn't change his will in time so he's in Mt. Vernon), the Old Supreme Court room, the old House gallery and the plaques where John Adams and Abraham Lincoln sat, and finally we went into the House Gallery and looked at the surprisingly tiny room where they vote and hold the State of the Union.

We're on our way back to the office to disperse (since it's now NOON), when half of the group (my half, obviously) gets seperated. We're walking single file down a hallway meant for pre-McDonalds, fanny-packless statesmen and it is absurdly crowded. A massive group of tourists cuts into our line, and the tour guide is history. Four of us wander around trying to find her again, but it's hopeless.

And then I ran into Cara Sullivan from school, that was random. She's working as an intern on the Hill, and she was leading a tour. Small world, right?

We're still wandering when I stop and ask a security person, and they were looking at us like they were wondering where exactly we had hidden the bombs.

"No tour guide? Really?" Eyebrows went up. Great. The last thing I need is to be strip-searched in some back room at the Capitol. I'm really not trying to go to Guantanamo, I just want to eat my sandwich (Which was delicious, in case you were wondering. You can never go wrong with PB&J).

Finally we get sassed by enough guards and directed back to Cannon, and I don't get back to the office until 12:30. Excellent.

Raise your hand if you just got paid for that?

That's right. I did.

I Wish Someone Would Take This Away From Me

It physically hurts me to type "power lunch".

I think I am addicted to blogging. And post-it notes.

I guess there are worse things to be addicted to than adhesive yellow reminders, so whateva whateva whateva.

Today, there's an intern luncheon. I know what you're all thinking: "But you already HAD an intern lunch! What do you mean you're getting paid to eat AGAIN?", and I laugh at your logical minds. Corporate America does not abide by the rules of mere mortals.

But for once it seems my life is semi-awesome. *Knocks on wood*

*Realizes it's fake wood and frantically runs around office trying to find real wood*

It's actually a "Luncheon" (as opposed to the oh-so blue-collar "lunch"; we are young professionals in Washington, DC, by God, and we will be as pretentious as we are entitled to be) with interns from other offices in the area. It's being hosted by Duke and AEP, two of our member companies, so we'll get to meet interns from their offices as well.

I hope I don't like them. I don't want to have to go through the awkward sort-of-friends but-we're-leaving-for-school-in-a-few-weeks and the-grownups-make-us-hang-out thing. It's really not my scene.

I only wish the "Mexican" "food" in Lex looked so good.

But I'm always up for Mexican food. Unless it's Don Tequila's. Then I'm up for binging and purging. That was probably the worst "Mexican" "food" I've ever had the misfortune to ingest. Yes, both of those words absolutely need scare quotes of their own. The only "Mexican" thing about it was the queso-flavored sauce everything they served was drowning in, and as for the "food"... I'm gonna go with false advertising on that one.

You know why today is a great day?

I did something.

I scanned.

One page.

Look at me, earning my money!

Chop't and Other Assorted Adventures

The Cold Stone of salads. For Serious.

Julia and I met up after work last night to hang out and go to dinner. Sweet, right?

Well, she gets off of work like an hour and a half later than me (I start an hour and a half earlier; it's not like I'm a lazy bum), so I had some time to kill. Weird. Again, I had nothing to do.

Is anyone else starting to see a pattern?

I decide to walk to the White House, and since I'm ON Pennsylvania Ave, one would have thought that there would be no way I could get lost. Remember, folks: This is ME we're talking about.

The getting lost wasn't particularly memorable, other than the part where I ALMOST DIED.

I was on my phone, talking about something dumb, probably, while standing on a street corner with a katrillion tourists. Including a very confusing 8-year-old girl dressed head-to-toe in camo. I didn't even know that was possible. Anyways, the light was red, and the walk signal was that weird red hand thing, so I just kept standing and talking and trying not to stare at the baby Rambo right next to me.

I notice the light change, so I start walking across the street, still talking, and all these cars are turning right in front of me. I'm getting pissed, I mean HELLO?? Pedestrians' rights??

And then I look up to yell at the guy who was THIS CLOSE to me, and I realize that the light may have changed, but the walk signal didn't.

Whoops. The good news is that I didn't actually die. Phew!