Thursday, December 18, 2008
Sticky
Today I played with super glue.
I did my very best to keep the glue off my fingers and only on the proper sides of said project. However, between a combination of the tiny size of the project in question and my extreme lack of fine motor coordination, I ended up with quite a coating on nearly every digit.
I also managed to glue myself to my jeans, to a glass of water, and for a few brief frightening moments to my computers space bar.
Now, a thick film of glue, though not something exciting and fun on a normal day, is not really worth thinking too much about. Certainly nothing that would warrant a written account.
However, I find that a silly story such as this is a testament to my “ability” to function as a normal human. Plus my glue-y dilemma did not quite end there.
My place of employment uses a fingerprint scanner to clock in and out for work.
Can you see where I am going with this.
I was running a bit late for work this afternoon (due to an unscheduled amount of time in the bathroom spend hand washing), and ran from the house with bits of super-ness still clinging to my fingers.
I reached the sign-er in-er and pressed my finger to this high tech time punch.
Nothing.
I moved my finger to a more readable position.
Nothing.
I scrapped at my finger.
Nothing.
I threatened the wall mounted scanner of doom menacingly.
Nothing.
I cursed.
Nothing.
I tried one more time with gusto and optimism.
Nothing.
I, it seems, do not exist.
I ran off with fingers crossed (and very nearly stuck that way) without clocking. I can only hope that today is not the day they check the records to dock pay. I would hate to have to explain myself.
I did my very best to keep the glue off my fingers and only on the proper sides of said project. However, between a combination of the tiny size of the project in question and my extreme lack of fine motor coordination, I ended up with quite a coating on nearly every digit.
I also managed to glue myself to my jeans, to a glass of water, and for a few brief frightening moments to my computers space bar.
Now, a thick film of glue, though not something exciting and fun on a normal day, is not really worth thinking too much about. Certainly nothing that would warrant a written account.
However, I find that a silly story such as this is a testament to my “ability” to function as a normal human. Plus my glue-y dilemma did not quite end there.
My place of employment uses a fingerprint scanner to clock in and out for work.
Can you see where I am going with this.
I was running a bit late for work this afternoon (due to an unscheduled amount of time in the bathroom spend hand washing), and ran from the house with bits of super-ness still clinging to my fingers.
I reached the sign-er in-er and pressed my finger to this high tech time punch.
Nothing.
I moved my finger to a more readable position.
Nothing.
I scrapped at my finger.
Nothing.
I threatened the wall mounted scanner of doom menacingly.
Nothing.
I cursed.
Nothing.
I tried one more time with gusto and optimism.
Nothing.
I, it seems, do not exist.
I ran off with fingers crossed (and very nearly stuck that way) without clocking. I can only hope that today is not the day they check the records to dock pay. I would hate to have to explain myself.
Thursday, December 04, 2008
What?
I mentioned that my work computer was infected with a deadly case of Korean. It has caused much pain and suffering over the span of a few weeks.
I have tried everything short of hitting the damned thing with a baseball bat to effectively do my work. The baseball bat is begining to look more appealing every moment.
But, the work must get done. I have bothered my coworkers (those for whom Korean is a native tongue), guessed, and clicked randomly with fingers crossed. Some things have been wildly effective. Others, not so much.
Tonight, I decided to be pro-active. I hopped onto Babel Fish, ready to translate the necessary key terms. I was going to get some work done if it killed me.
I typed the Korean words as accuratly as possible.
This was the result.
Where the hell is that bat?
I have tried everything short of hitting the damned thing with a baseball bat to effectively do my work. The baseball bat is begining to look more appealing every moment.
But, the work must get done. I have bothered my coworkers (those for whom Korean is a native tongue), guessed, and clicked randomly with fingers crossed. Some things have been wildly effective. Others, not so much.
Tonight, I decided to be pro-active. I hopped onto Babel Fish, ready to translate the necessary key terms. I was going to get some work done if it killed me.
I typed the Korean words as accuratly as possible.
This was the result.
Where the hell is that bat?
