Frog and Goat

We went to see Pink Martini on Tuesday night. A very fun show and they sang Helen Reddy’s I Am Woman and here’s how they did it:

We stayed in our seats and sang along. We left after the conga line ended up on stage during the encore.

Millennial employee got to work on time yesterday for the first time in weeks. Was I supposed to say good job or just hello?

Power went out due to Hurricane Micheal and it chafes when the people across the street have power and we don’t. Our lines are underground after a big dang production a couple of years ago. Their lines are still above ground. Ugh. Speaking of big dang deal, we’re approaching 1 year of continuous construction on the gas lines in our neighborhood. Every week we have to move signs and remove trash from the construction folks. I will be so glad when they are freaking done. At least the heavy equipment isn’t parked at our house. I’ve surely just jinxed us.

This week:
A job candidate posted something about my department on social media that basically disparaged the entire work of the department and because we are so small, she may as well have named us personally. The only take-away I have from this is she is a deeply angry person who needs to move on and let it go. Also, don’t tell me that I know nothing about training and development and specifically about instructional design because OH HELL NO. Also, spell words correctly. It makes your story more compelling.

I spent 4 hours in a meeting reviewing and correcting a slide deck. A presentation of less than 50 slides. 4 hours. Exhausted.

How much rain can central VA get in one week? Too much, is how much.

But, how about Manafort and Cohen?

Our neighborhood is under the siege of gas pipe replacement. A piece of heavy equipment (or 5) has been parked in front or beside our house for about 9 months (or forever). They hooked up our house about two weeks ago. Yay? The side street is finally patched enough that you don’t worry about popping a tire or losing the car’s undercarriage. The main drag is another story.

I’ve been in a silent, and ultimately a losing, battle with the bastards working on the road/gas lines with the Road Closed signs they can’t seem to stop leaving in the green-way between our house and the road. Really? How many times do I need to move that crap off the grass so I can cut it? A gazillion, apparently. How many bottles and cans do I need to pick up? Easily a dozen. I think they finally got the hint when I and others started putting the trash back on their equipment. When someone treats public space like a baby treats a diaper, I really wonder what their homes look like. Yep, I’m judging.

Now we come to the world’s largest staple or bracket or whatever that was dug up out of the ground. It looks like a horseshoe for a giant horse. It weighs about 5 pounds and is made of iron. I have moved that out of the way several times and today I found it back on the grass because one of the workers is an effin’ idiot. Rather than wrap it around a construction worker’s head, it is now in the recycle bin. I’m not sure I can get away with throwing away the Road Closed signs, but we’ll see.