Today is the last day of another fiscal year here. This is the first non-work related thing I have written this week. I am in spreadsheet mode and have no brain cells left for blogging. But I have much to write stored in my brain. Will attempt a post later in the week.
It is just past ten o' clock and I am stewing in my own fumes. I ate a plate of spicy Thai pork for breakfast and it is now overly apparent that the secret ingredient was garlic. Normally I would have no complaint as the breath of death keeps perky morning office assistants at arm's length until well past lunch, but today I have a meeting. With bigwigs from overseas. Overseas as in, "garlic novice" overseas. Heh.
I have popped a lemon cough drop in my mouth and it now feels as if I could marinate a chicken in there to make some exotic chinese dish. Hooray for honey-lemon eucalyptus. This should do the trick as long as I keep a lozenge in my mouth at all times.
Except that now I've started burping under my breath. Garlicky richness erupts from the depths... Guess I'll show up at that meeting with some stakes and holy water just to get into my role - wouldn't that be a first! I'll completely redefine my company's approach to hostile negotiations...
A client just asked for a 90MB 3D CAD file data to be sent on multiple storage mediums: 250MB Zip, 100MB Zip, CD-R, 128MB MO, and split up on floppies for God's sake! His reasoning: The workshop in Singapore uses old equipment. He will not listen to my reasoning along the lines of, "if they can open a 3D CAD file that size, I would assume they can surely pull data off a CD."
Somebody send me an IT geek with a few free hours to play the floppy insert-write-eject-label game (cuz I really SUCK at it)! Well, this is a first if nothing else. All hail the mighty morphin' corporate tech retards!
When the president of the staffing company (5,500 employees) you work for makes it a point to see you in person by pulling you from your desk in front of the whole office, you may feel several hundred thousand butterflies moshing at the Pantera concert in your stomach as you get up and proceed to an adjacent conference room.
Then, when he offers you 3,000 yen ($30) for every gaijin you can introduce that signs on to the firm with the single stipulation that "they are like you", you can nod and say thank you.
Then again, you could always point out that he is implying your own worth and feel insulted. And tell him the last time you saw somebody sold for so little it was paid for in crack and the bitch looked skankier than Paris Hilton after a six-week opiate binge. Or you could also explain that $30 isn't even enough to hire an illegal immigrant to do your yardwork back home in sunny CA. To top it all off, you could tell him in your best gutteral gangsta-Japanese to shove it up his ass.
Me, I just nodded and said thank you.
