time is the enemy
Mar. 20th, 2013 08:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
peacewishI looked around my friends lists at LJ and DW and thought, "Hardly anybody's posting." Then I realized, "Oh, jeez, I haven't posted since January! If I'm going to complain about posting habits, then I better step up and make sure I'm not one of the guilty."
I'm here, and I am alive. I am, appearances to the contrary, working my butt off to get the next scene in TGWP written, and have been consistently stymied by friends interrupting my lunch hour, families visiting on weekends, and chances to put in overtime. I am striving to get the update done by this Sunday, though I've already committed to doing some libertarian marketing at the capitol tomorrow, so chances are iffy.
Anyway, last week I was just wrapping up the day's work at my office when a clock fell on me. Yes, you read that right. Luckily, it was one of those cheap plastic/aluminum clocks that hang on the walls everywhere in schools and offices. It was mostly hollow, and the plastic face popped off at the collision, but the battery case inside was kinda heavy and it hurt. I'm lucky that I was leaning through the window to toss my classified trash into the bins, so the clock hit me hard on the shoulder rather than the head. The clock came out of it worse than I did.
I suppose if I was manic enough about these things, I could have sued the boss. The nail it was hanging on came out of the wall at a straight 90 degrees, not even angled upward just a little. It was also pulled out of the drywall with casual effort, having not been properly anchored. However, I am a mellow type, and since my shoulder was just a little tender the next day, I elected to avoid judicial recourse and just get on with my life.
The amusing part is this: I reported the incident to my boss, because we're supposed to do that, and he referred the case to Human Resources. I got a kindly email from them the next day inquiring after my health, and also downloading a bitchton of attachments into my computer. Because I was merely hurt, and not seeking medical care or employers' compensation for said medical care, I only had to fill out FOUR SEPARATE FORMS. I don't even want to know how many forms I'd have had to fill out if I was seeking medical care. Bureaucracy, it is grand.
If I don't have an update on Sunday, I'll blame my sore shoulder. Then we can all hate my workplace together.
I'm here, and I am alive. I am, appearances to the contrary, working my butt off to get the next scene in TGWP written, and have been consistently stymied by friends interrupting my lunch hour, families visiting on weekends, and chances to put in overtime. I am striving to get the update done by this Sunday, though I've already committed to doing some libertarian marketing at the capitol tomorrow, so chances are iffy.
Anyway, last week I was just wrapping up the day's work at my office when a clock fell on me. Yes, you read that right. Luckily, it was one of those cheap plastic/aluminum clocks that hang on the walls everywhere in schools and offices. It was mostly hollow, and the plastic face popped off at the collision, but the battery case inside was kinda heavy and it hurt. I'm lucky that I was leaning through the window to toss my classified trash into the bins, so the clock hit me hard on the shoulder rather than the head. The clock came out of it worse than I did.
I suppose if I was manic enough about these things, I could have sued the boss. The nail it was hanging on came out of the wall at a straight 90 degrees, not even angled upward just a little. It was also pulled out of the drywall with casual effort, having not been properly anchored. However, I am a mellow type, and since my shoulder was just a little tender the next day, I elected to avoid judicial recourse and just get on with my life.
The amusing part is this: I reported the incident to my boss, because we're supposed to do that, and he referred the case to Human Resources. I got a kindly email from them the next day inquiring after my health, and also downloading a bitchton of attachments into my computer. Because I was merely hurt, and not seeking medical care or employers' compensation for said medical care, I only had to fill out FOUR SEPARATE FORMS. I don't even want to know how many forms I'd have had to fill out if I was seeking medical care. Bureaucracy, it is grand.
If I don't have an update on Sunday, I'll blame my sore shoulder. Then we can all hate my workplace together.
