I’ve been in meetings since 8:30 a.m. It’s now 3:38 p.m. I’ve been able to get up to go pee twice. Meetings where I’m taking notes and updating documents. On my computer. While on the phone. Flipping back and forth between email and Word; between Excel, Powerpoint and Visio. Behold my greatness and glory. Stand in awe. I’m the Goddess of Multitasking.

Except there was that one time. (And I never went to band camp.)

It was the same kind of day as today. I was going in 20 directions at once. Meetings. People in and out of my office. Emails and documents. PLUS - to make it even better, Mr. Hot and I were house shopping. He kept calling me and sending me links to realtor.com. “Look at the family room on this.” “Nice yard.” “Down the road from Domino’s.”

So, there I was. On the phone and trying to listen. Taking notes. Doing emails. Checking out this and that on websites to see if my budget would allow me to have a fireplace AND 3 bedrooms/2 baths. (Um, oh hell no it didn’t.)

I type a response back to Mr. Hot’s email - “We should go see this one this weekend. Leave Shortman at home. We can dump the real estate agent and try out all 3 bedrooms, studmuffin.”

A couple of minutes later, I get an Instant Message from my boss. “Are you trying to reverse sexually harrass me?”

Aw. Fuck. Fuckitydamnfuckfuck.

Yes, I typed the email response into the Instant Message window. I assume Mr. Hot got the response back to “Are you available for a conference call at 3:30?” (That would now be No, because I just died and went to hell.)

—- True story. And to this day, whenever I show my face in Chicago and we have dinner with a glass of wine or four? He reminds me that he screen-printed that message window for my personnel file. I remind him of the many times that he and the rest of my Chicago boyfriends talk about that one’s tits or that one’s ass. And we call it even. —-

…. now with gratuitious sex references!

Once upon a time, there were 3 co-workers who were thrown together to create a new way of doing the job they’d been doing individually for 25, 22 and 10 years. They became very good friends and were extremely well known around the company. W., G. and B. (nicknames that have been shortened to assure anonymity, but The Hotfessional is “B”, and suffice it to say that it stands for a certain style of [usually black leather, zippered and high-heeled] footwear that she spends wayyyy toooo much money on) were the stars of the show for a while.

Last year, G and B were given new jobs, and although they were still closely tied to W, they added more members to their “inner circle”. D. first - because D and W and G had worked together before, and then more recently, P.

Now, I’ve blogged several times about the state of the organization I work for. Here, and here, and most recently - here. The restructuring that has been announced is extremely strange. Not at all what was expected, and people are talking about it. They’re pissed. They see injustice and placements that can only be described as suspect. Egos that definitely don’t need to be stroked are being given the equivalent of hand jobs.

Not to say that it’s all doom and gloom. Those of us in our own “inner circle” are having a great time whenever we can.

Except for P. - the new guy. (And yes, for those of you that are wondering, I’m the only one in the inner circle with tits.) He’s taking great umbrage at the fact that we’re teasing G for his place in the restructuring.

P. told me yesterday, “You know, you are completely stepping over the line on this. The teasing has got to stop. It’s not corporately responsible.”

Harumph. Excuse me???? I’m stepping over the line? I’m not corporately responsible? What about the fact that there’s a guy with almost 30 years of service, who never, NOT once, has been evaluated any lower than “exceeds expectations”, is universally admired for his ability to get done whatever needs to be done, is known for taking care of his employees BUT is now reporting to a woman hired in 1998 - one with no experience managing a staff at all?

—- P? Don’t make me get my boots dirty. —-

My Life as a Straight Man:

I dial in to my boss’s staff meeting since I’m not onsite this week. It’s kinda like walking into a “Cheers” episode - except rather than using my name, I get a lot of “Support Goddess”!!!, “XYS Queen”!!! (I managed the System Support division for years, and before that, built an application called XYS which is still in use.) Again, dumbshit me -

• Hotfessional => “I hope you all are getting t-shirts printed with those names for me to wear when I’m out of a job.”
• The Rest of Them => *catcalls and wolf-whistles* “You mean otherwise you’ll walk around naked after you’re laid off?” “You’re fired!” “Here’s your ‘pink slip’.”

The sad thing is, I tend to do this when I’m there in person, too.

• Hotfessional to rest of group => “I’m warning you all about those margaritas. Don’t have more than one without eating. And even then, don’t have 3. Stop at 2. Take this from someone who knows. You won’t be able to stand up.”
• Sr. Program Mgr. (after 3rd drink w/o food) to person he’s sitting next to => “Doesn’t the Hotfessional’s rack look bigger?”

Which was, of course, said in that well-known, completely drunk whisper that echos through the entire restaurant.

Blackberry Conversation During a Different Staff Meeting:

• Ex-Boss of Hotfessional => “Do you shop at Victoria’s Secret?”
• Hotfessional => “Um, yes, why?” (While wondering which piece of lingerie has somehow turned flashing neon for whole world to see)
• Ex-Boss => “I want to get my wife whatever kind of bra you’re wearing - and there’s a Victoria’s Secret on the way home.”

Are you sensing a theme here, people?

Oh My Gawd, Tell Me He Didn’t!:

• Support Division Manager explaining the official definition of Emergency => “It’s not just some client saying, “‘I want my hoo-hoo, and I want it right now!’”
• Rest of Meeting Attendees => “snort, cough, giggle, snort, hack”
• Hotfessional (once again, the only woman in the room) => “I think I have to leave now.”

Technically, I think I’m the only one with a hoo-hoo sitting there.

Sometimes, Thank Goodness, I’m NOT the Target - Or Am I?:

Scene: Four Managers are walking down the streets of Chicago (3 men, 1 woman) - 2 by 2 due to the narrowness of the sidewalk. Hotfessional and LI #1 in front, LI #2 and XLMan trailing.

• XLMan => “Y’know, LI#1, you have no ass!“

Implication being “Hotfessional, you have too much ass?”

—- Okay, so that last one was a scene from the back. —-

…because even I can’t bring myself to use the word shit in a title, for crying out loud.

As I wander through blogland, I find stuff that I find hilarious - especially in the archives. I have laughed my ass off at some of the things on Crystal’s site. Amalah is another gem.

Sometimes I even comment on the things I read on other people’s blogs. I do!

By the way - no one comments on my stuff, but hey, I’m not bitter. Really, I’m not. Honest. Just because no one has seen fit to comment on a single post….(sigh.)

Can’t I just get a little comment???? You can even tell me my site is useless. I’m okay with that. Well - not really, but hey - I can live with it. There’s a lot of things I’m not okay with, but I’m learning to live with….like Bush being President for another:

I do find some fun little gadgets.

Badger posted about this: What 2004 Hit Song Are You? I tried it. It ends up that I’m:

Milkshake by Kelis

“My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard And they’re like, it’s better than yours Damn right it’s better than yours I could teach you But I have to charge” You can work it! And you started a new trend or two in 2004!

This is SO me.

Ambulance Driver had this one:

Oh, and today, this guy came into the office wearing shorts. He no longer works here, but had to come turn in some company-owned stuff. He’s a truly pompous ass. I had to go to the little girls’ room while he was here, and I walked the extra long way around because I SO did not want to have to talk to him. Unfortunately, he caught me. And proceeded to tell me how cool he thought it was To. Wear. Shorts. To. The. Office. (Excuse me while I puke in my mouth remembering it).

I have a very close friend from college that I talk to less than once a year, who sees fit to write to me even though I haven’t managed to answer - like - her last 3 letters (I’m so pitiful, I even pointed her to this blog and asked her to have this hold her over until I can pick up a freakin’ pen). Hi Kijiwoo! I promise - I’ll write soon. Truly. Geez, I am so sad.

I harvested my first radishes yesterday. I think I didn’t thin them enough, so I’m not going to get as many as I originally hoped for, but they were yummy.

It’s been sooo windy here the past two days. There was a wind advisory in the Windy City yesterday. Lots of people thought they were going to be stranded at the office….I was glad I wasn’t there. Of course, my fellow executives (gentlemen they are NOT) told me how they walked around town at lunchtime to see how many thongs they could count. I’ve been there when they do this, and I can tell you - in Chicago - it’s not always a pretty picture. This is the midwest. There are some big ladies out there wearing thongs.

—- Did I also mention that they walk around singing “It’s the most wonderful time of the year”? In the summer? —-

When I started working for this company back in 1992 (yes … 15 years ago … although technically, we’ve been bought 4 times since then, so … same hire date but different branding on my business card!) - all women had to wear skirts or dresses. NO pants! Yes, you read that right. Sad, isn’t it. The 90’s.

Once those of us with boobs (oops, there go the search engines) could start wearing pants, all of my pretty skirts and dresses got pushed to the back of the closet. Oh, I’d still pull them out every once in a while - for old times sake. I’d grimace as yet another fingernail went through the pantyhose ($7.50 down the drain). Then I finally decided - Pantyhose = BAD. Trouser socks = GOOD. Only under extreme duress would I wear something without legs.

So, what the hell happened this morning? I open my closet and see (oooh) pretty blue short-sleeved shift dress hanging there. I know it’s going to be pushing 90 degrees today. I now work in a building where you can go without pantyhose - just shave your legs for crying out loud - so I throw it on with a pair of matching ballet-style flats. Cute! Grab blazer for air conditioned conference rooms. Ready, set, go.

Walk downstairs. Mr. Hot looks up from his bowl of cereal. Does a double-take. “What’s the occasion?” says he. “Oh, just felt like something different”, says me.

Shortman comes down. “Mom, you’re wearing a dress?”. I reply, “Damn, I knew 11 years of public school would teach you something!”. (Snort. Sometimes I can out-sarcasm a 15 year old boy. Even at 7:30 a.m.)

Now, did I mention that I’m in the process of moving between old office and new office? (Window!) That I run all over this building? That I frequently have to bend over to pick things up? (I’m very clumsy and drop things. A lot.). So, not a smart choice for this morning. But cute. Very very cute.

In other news, tomorrow I leave for a 4-day weekend with Mr. Hot, the Shortman, and my 2 step-kids, the 19 year old and the 23 year old. We’re meeting up in Sandusky Ohio - home of Cedar Point and all things roller-coaster-y. Pray that it doesn’t rain in Ohio this weekend. For me, please???? Five of us in 400 square feet for 3 1/2 days doesn’t bode well for the mental health aspects of my family. However, I’m sure that it will generate some good blog material!

—- So until (if) I get back - You all have a great Memorial Day - Remember our fallen and thank them and their families for the sacrifices they have made. Don’t overdose on hot dogs and potato salad. —-

Nooooo, of course not. I get Joe-Bob, the beer-bellied, plumber-panted, cigar-smoker weeding the dying perennials outside my window. I know you all are just screaming with jealousy.

—- Seriously y’all, what did I do to deserve such good fortune? —-