Super Amy

Are most of us at least somewhat familiar with the plot of that most famous of the first wave of reality tv shows, “Survivor?” People are put in seemingly difficult “survival” situations in apparently exotic foreign locations, and are then put through increasingly challenging ordeals as they “battle the elements” of nature. I actually only watched about half of the first season of this show, which has been back seven or so years ago, I think. Anyway, I’m pretty sure the challenges get harder, as one by one they eliminate contestants, until only the winner is left.

So work started off great — pretty much just like what I’ve been doing for over a year as an on-and-off temp, except that now, with 40+ hours a week and no school to interfere, I can actually focus on what I’m doing, and so I feel more productive and accomplished at the end of most days. The lack of serious multitasking means I’m sleeping more, and usually more alert, so it hasn’t been nearly as bad as I expected. Until this week.

So the new plant manager has been doing some pretty cool things. I was in England when he first came into the Greenwood plant, but when I came back, there were beautiful multi-colored patches of flowers in front of the building, and a real place to eat lunch outside, some indoor sprucing and new floors and whatnot, signs in the front office clearly identifying sections of the building — that sort of thing. Being such a visual person, I’m somewhat of a sucker for things like flowers and sunlight, and things looking nice, so I’ve been 100% for all of these changes. Until this week.

Next up on the renovations list: the cafeteria. There’s nothing exactly wrong with the cafeteria — I have a rather fond acceptance of it, if for no other reason than it brings back familiar memories of my elementary school cafeteria (which was only slightly outdated back in the early nineties). Yes, I guess it’s a touch cramped, a little hard to navigate, and certainly not of the appearance of a twenty-first century cafeteria, or perhaps even a later twentieth-century cafeteria, but here’s the most important point: the cafeteria serves coffee. Between some terribly early hour of the morning and one o’clock in the afternoon, the cafeteria serves loads and loads of watery-tasting coffee-flavored swill. Luckily, the desperate aren’t picky. And boy am I desperate. What do I do?

As a department, we’ve hashed and re-hashed the issue. I’m by far the only avid coffee drinker of the bunch, and so all of us had suggestions and ideas of how to compensate for the lack of coffee (we aren’t allowed to put coffee makers in our cubicles for various reasons), and some of them are being considered, so I’m pretty sure it will find resolution before too long, but let’s look at this honestly for a minute: without coffee, I don’t have very long left in this world. Mandy, I’m leaving you all my stuff.

Any suggestions?

In other news, I’ve decided that the best way to spend a lunch break is to pick up some coffee and a sandwich or something at a drive-thru, and then spend thirty minutes driving around in your car, making as many funny faces as you can come up with. Try it sometime. You’ll be surprised at how exercised your face will feel for the second half of the day, not to mention all those happy drugs smiling puts into your system. Just. Keep your eyes open and mostly on the road, guys. No matter how good the squinty eyes feel.

I’m trying to start a desktop garden — every time I have a plant and think I can keep it alive, I somehow manage pretty much to totally destroy it, through some sort of poor caring technique. Of course, it’s much easier to blame this on the plants themselves — had I picked better plants, they’d be thriving. So if you have any suggestions for reasonably small and reasonably available plants that grow well at room temperature and with minimal (weekend) sunlight, but mostly flourescent, I’m up for trying anything.

listening to: still the Old 97’s. I’m getting predictable in my old age.

So I’m sort of aimlessly driving around Greenwood some time around four this afternoon, desperately hoping to stumble upon a “For Rent” sign on a delightful little house which I have not yet seen (they’re growing few and far between, believe me), when I stumble upon something else which has found itself rather sparse lately — a lemonade stand! Four little chairs and four little people, cups and ice and lemonade, and a multicolored and well-illustrated sign advertising “Lemonade — 50c.” Suspicious that perhaps my eyes were deceiving me, I pulled over to the side of the road, only to have two kids run up to my open car window* to run through my options, which included a small, medium, or large lemonade or iced tea. Interestingly, all items were the same price, regardless of size. I went with the large lemonade, and my afternoon was much cheerier afterwards.

Any of you who have read Mandy’s blog recently should be made aware that her obsessive organizational capacity isn’t nearly so innocent as it may seem. She is, in fact, compelled to push upon others her addiction to scheduling. So after consulting her and getting my planning system all set up, I actually think I’m getting more done, and I always know when my schedule is or isn’t free. It’s nice, in some ways, and now I’m just as obsessive as she is. Thanks, sis.

Work has been nice — really, it has — but I needed a break from last week. I got up super-early yesterday morning, and took a road trip to Athens, Georgia. I spent Friday night meticulously writing down directions to and from Athens (I always mess it up), and between all of my scheduled stops. I guess it’d be helpful to buy one of those handy little GPS devices, or at the very least, to buy some of those handy ink refill cartridges so that I can print my directions. But anyway, turns out that even with driving time, you can pack a lot into a morning trip to Georgia. I bought flowers and blueberries at the farmer’s market, saw the state botanical garden, and the Georgia Art Museum at the university. I also saw the tree that owns itself, which is a pretty exciting thing, when you consider the other legalities it introduces. Anyway, photos of my trip, as well as some other newish but pretty overdue photos, can be found over at my picasa page.

I had more to say, I think, but I also have some spaghetti on the stove, and it’s nearing pasta time… so off I go. I should do this weekend thing more often.

listening to: The Old 97’s – Too Far to Care (the album, on loop, three times a day… mmm)

* so a week or so ago, I took some of my saved-up first paycheck money and splurged on a new gadget for my spiffy little Dodge Neon — an air compressor! Mine quit on me some time in the dead of winter — I remember this because I was collecting icicles as I stood in the cold, watching the smoke from burnt belts pouring out from under the hood of my car as it sat, dead and fuming late one night in the middle of a four-way intersection near Lander. So after getting the belts replaced and me on the road again, I decided I’d take my spring tax refund money and buy a new air compressor before the heat of summer. And we all know what happens with tax refund money — not at all what is supposed to happen. So anyway, I spent the summer so far rolling down windows and sweating it out, up until last weekend, when along with other repairs, I told my awesome mechanic Ted to replace the air compressor, which he did. The part I didn’t anticipate is this: every time I get in the car, I forget about the air conditioning. I roll down my windows and hope for a breeze. Sometimes, once I get to the point of being all soaked and drippy, a passing thought of “wow, it’s a little warm” will pass through my brain, and occasionally it triggers the fond memory of air conditioning. This, though, was not one of those more enlightened moments.