I read Candide by Voltaire long ago. I thought it was incredibly funny, and it was hard to believe it was meant to be philosophy. It was so funny! All these crazy things happening to these people. One good thing then all of a sudden all these bad things.

It was for a class, of course. We were trying to figure out what made this philosophical. The teacher said, “Someone suggested that the actual number of bad things that happen to the characters is exactly equal to the number of good things…I haven’t counted, though.”

And that makes me think. Still makes me think. How many good things does it take to be equal to a bad thing? Really…Equivalency is what I’m talking about.

If someone says, “You have a nice smile”
is that an equivalent counter-balance to someone else saying, “Your breath really stinks”?

Those are kind of equivalent, maybe. Depending on who says it and when.

But how many, “you did a good job”s does it take to make up for “We’re very disappointed in you”

It may depend on the person.

Here’s another one. People who do customer service get this all the time. Teachers too. When you have that customer, that person you are assisting, or student go ballistic on you. When they threaten to call your manager, tell you exactly how you are failing them, accuse you of some mishandling of a task….

And you have to stand there, take it, and speak in a calm voice explaining the situation and getting some necessary response/information from them until you are at last released from their tractor beam of displeasure.

you are released. You kept your cool, you handled the crisis.

How long does it take to recover?

It takes me a while. It leaves me shaky and vulnerable.

It makes it harder to help that person. Why go back to the source of pain?

How many good nights sleep does it take to get over the adrenaline rush of someone’s accusation?

What’s the equivalent?

i try to find satisfaction in a job well done. My reward is in recognizing that I did a damn good job.

I’d rather not take the bullets. I’m tired of being the target practice.

Went to New York. Work trips. They are not usually so fun. It’s an experience, to travel. But all experiences are not pleasant.

Work trips are…well…experiences.

I was interesting to swim like a fish through the masses of people in times square. It was interesting to see how they live and eat and get around.

It was interesting to drive by Queens. I was interesting to drink the coffee and try a cannolli.

But I didn’t really do anything fun. I drank a lot, because people there drink a lot. Well, the people I was with there drink a lot. Realize, a lot to me is a cocktail and a glass of wine.

I think one evening I had two cocktails and a glass of wine.

That was the evening I had fun. I got to go see The Village. Greenwich Village. THe one that is supposed to have it’s own style, counter culture creativity.

I went to a famous place:
CBGB’s

I guess a lot of counter-culture bands got to play there before they became THE counter culture bands. I missed the Smiths, The Ramones, Blondie and The Police the first time around.

I remember the Grunge movement. Which, when I say that, everyone thinks is Nirvana. But that’s not what I remember. I remember listening to the local college radio station, and hearing music like I’d never heard before. I remember bands with weird names like Lucy’s new Fur Coat. I remember going to a couple raves, and coffee shops where people wrapped embriodery threads around strands of hair. I remember wearing flannel shirts and my boyfriend’s torn jeans because I had nothing else to wear, and being cool because that was “alternative.”

I had trouble remembering who Nirvana was. But I loved the alternative scene. I often wondered what else was going on…Was alternative really alternative if it was the only happening? And there were categories of alternative…”Goth” and “Industrial” and “college”….

THAT is what I thought about when I went to CBGBs

Maybe it’s still alternative in the Village. Maybe it always will be.

You know, I’ve been re-evaluating my life somewhat. I don’t know why I call it RE-evaluating. I seem to do it without pause, really.

I am increasingly tired of what I do to make money. I feel like I have a lot of other things I would prefer to spend my time on. For example, I recently got my piano tuned. I am really enjoying learning new songs, and playing old ones.

What is this job thing for, anyway? Yes, I have to have food, shelter and clothing. And don’t forget the mathoms, all the pretty little useless items that catch my fancy, that I just have to have.

or maybe I don’t. Maybe I can get along with a heck of a lot less than I think. I went out to a restaurant last night, because I was too tired to cook and I didn’t have much in the fridge anyway.

If I hadn’t been to busy to shop or too tired to cook, I could have saved a lot of money.

Maybe.

As I was driving back with Chris from Marie Callendar’s, he asked me about Christmas music. “What kinds of music means Christmas to you?” He was thinking of buying Christmas CDs.

Thinking about it, my family did not buy Christmas CDs. But every Christmas had music! We just made it ourselves. Either we had an instrument to accompany us or we didn’t, but we always sang together.

What a beautiful thing! Think about music, just for a minute, as a beautiful thing to collect. It doesn’t take up space, it doesnt’ cost money. All you have to do is remember to sing.

And it lasts! It’s not something you regret, like a too-rich dessert. But it makes you feel good for longer than it takes just to sing.

What else is like that? Maybe playing a game, and I mean a real game that you make up, like peekaboo, with a child or a friend. Doesn’t cost a thing, doesn’t take up space or clutter your life.

Spending some time giving love…kisses and hugs, the best things in life, really, are just the same.

I wonder if I could tip the balance, make my life full of the non-cluttery things, so full that I don’t have time or space for the physical things. That might eliminate the necessity for this daily pay for daily work stuff.

Maybe.

So, there’s this new guy. He was hired a couple weeks ago and seems nice enough.

But he didn’t come in last friday. And he didn’t call to say why. And he’s not here today either and he hasn’t called.

Here’s a situation. What should we do?

It happens the boss was out last friday. He’s in today, and I’m the one that called attention to the absence. Boss knew nothing about it.

He starts asking everyone if they had heard anything.

Here’s the funny bit: The guys all start backpedalling and trying to cover for the new guy…”Oh he said he might not come in on friday”

funny. So the boss calls the home number.
“Oh, this is not really where he lives, I will try to find out a better number for you.”

wow. This is new.

Now, I hope nothing is wrong. I suspect nothing is wrong.

But if nothing indeed is wrong, then what’s up with all this helping the guy cover up?

My upbringing was NEVER lie, NEVER try to get away with anything, and NEVER help anyone who was doing the above.

Good little Christian school children are taught that if they do anything, even the SMALLEST thing wrong they are sinning and deserve to go to hell, in fact they WILL go to hell if they don’t repent and have Jesus in their heart.

And if you cover up for your friend, you are not being a true friend because you are just helping them GO TO HELL!

So pretty much, there was a mad dash to tell on anyone that did anything wrong.

This is yet another example of how Christian schools do not prepare you for the real world.

In this real world that I now inhabit, it seems that there is an unspoken understanding that you cover for the guy. I didn’t know that you could get people to cover for you under these kinds of circumstances. This means that I can be a lot more cavalier about my duties, should I ever decide to be cavalier.

But I wonder why people cover for other people? is it in the hope that they will in turn be covered?

I guess. You never know when you will screw up or slack off somehow and need people to help you out. I screw unintentionally sometimes, no way around it. But to intentionally screw up. Wow.

I have never trusted people to help me out. I always assumed there would be the mad dash to tell on me.

That’s what I was raised with.

Interesting.

I got to work early today. There were some European time zones that had to be reckoned with.

But even so, I couldn’t sleep very well because I was worried that I had killed one of my plants.

A favorite plant.

What can I say? Some things wake you up at 4 a.m. At that hour, it is hard to put things into perspective.

But honestly, I am still worried about my plant. I hope it makes it.

Anyway, I’ve been here since 6:45 and I’m running out of steam. I’m supposed to go replace a piece of equipment that is malfunctioning intermittently. I’ve been supposed to be replacing it for a couple weeks. It will be kind of hard to do.

But not that hard.

I am apparently fabulously lazy. It would probably worry me less just to take care of it.

But it would take effort.

And I don’t want to make any efforts right now.

What I really want is to go over to the vending machine and buy that butterfinger that is in C34.

It’s been waiting there all day.

But I’m trying to eat healthy.

Is it really impossible to go through my day without this butterfinger?
Perhaps I should go get it and be done with it.

Or perhaps I should go get the key to the storage room that had the equipment I need to swap out in it.

And be done with it.

Or maybe I should tell myself that I get to have the butterfinger as soon as I’m finished with the equipment.

But I don’t really want to deal with the equipment.

I have a feeling that I’m not going anywhere.

You know, I’ve had to be at work at 7 a.m. every morning this week. That’s not so unusual, but today I have to stay until 6 p.m. or even later.

I thought I would drive my car.

Driving at quarter to 7 in the morning is kind of nice, traffic is light, and it’s pretty. Usually I get to the parking lot and think, “I could have left even later.”

This morning was going to be a little tough; i had two video conferences to launch at the exact same time, on two different floors.

Launch time was 7:30, so I was glad to be getting to work early.

In my pretty car, listening to the first broadcast of NPR’s coverage of the bombings of Iraq, I pull onto the 5. ooh. Backed up. I listen to the traffic report, and nothing is mentioned.

Typical. They never talk about where I am. I guess that means traffic everywhere else is WORSE.

I am hopeful that when I pull onto the 110, the traffic will be faster.

I have a lot of time to cherish this hope. It’s 7 a.m. before I get on the 110.

There are a lot of very pretty wildflowers at the exit right now. I got to examine them in detail.

I also thought about the fact that I had no back up for the two conferences I needed to start this morning. NO one else was in today.

I made it to my parking space at 7:30.

RUNNING up to the elevator, my cell phone rings. It’s the New York site. “Murphy!” my tech says. “Someone has pulled all the cables out of the back of the video unit! I don’t know how to put them back!”

I tell her I”ll call her when I get up the room. On the elevator, I try to figure out which conference is what, and which one that New York room is involved in.

Clever tech, she figured it out by the time I got up to the room. With just a few minor adjustments, she was up and ready.

She says, ” I don’t know WHO would have done this, they had to get all the way behind the equipment to pull it out.”

“Michelle, ” I said. “It’s terrorists.”

Next on the list:
Find those folks who didnt show up and/or didn’t turn on the equipment. THere seemed to be a lot of them this morning.

I have to check on the other room, the one located a floor below. I dash off to the elevator and punch the button. I feel a little silly, thinking I should have just taken the stairs. Just as I start to try to think about where the stairs even are, the elevator opens, and I jump in.

It’s the wrong elevator. I figure that out when the doors close and I drop fast to the ground floor.

So I rush out, get on the RIGHT elevator, and move into the next room.

My cell rings again: “we don’t like the conference room we are connected to. We want to move to another one.”

Fine, okay, just tell me which one.

*Ring*

“Um? hello? I think I’m supposed to do something with the video?”

“Yes, you are, actually. Would you mind going to the room that you were supposed to be in a half hour ago and turning on the equiment? Thaaaaannnkkksss..”

“Half an hour? I can’t do that…I turned the TV on…”

“Yes, but you do need to turn on the actual video conference equipment. Do you know how to do that?”

“I guess…”

“Okay, why don’t you do that, and I’ll talk about showing up for the half-hour set up later..Okay? GOOoood.”

Now they are set up, rush back upstairs, get that one set up. Oh look, the main speaker is completely blocked by a chair positioned in front of the camera. But before I can tell him, the introducer guy starts in:
“Okay, let’s get started already…”

when he pauses, I have to jump in.

“Hello, this is Murphy Horner. I’m the Video Conference Administrator. Could the persons in Silicon Valley just step around the table and move the chairs directly in front of them and the camera? I’m sure the folks in this conference would prefer to see more of you, and less of the chairs. Thank you.”

They were good sports, they moved the chairs.

Shwew.

Thank god.

I’m finally set up.

I walk downstairs, very slowly, waiting for the adrenaline to seep out of my body.

Yikes.

What a morning!

I’m gonna eat my yogurt now.