Take A Look And Really Weigh That

I found a new way to geek out! People assume that geeks speak the same language. They group us as a generic subclass to be envied or ignored. I like many geeky things; conventions, super hero movies, Star Trek, social networking. Other things, like math, programming, science, or comic books, I have no interest in. To make matters worse, my SO is an IT Manager. They try to bypass him and get me to solve their technical problems. Sure, I have a better grasp of computers than they do, but I can’t fix their computer because my SO can.

Regardless, I love to bake. I got a digital scale and made the move to baking by weight instead of by volume. There is a learning curve, but I’m hooked. My biggest problem is many recipes don’t offer weight measurements. My stupidest realisation is that a cup of flour weights less than a cup of sugar. It makes sense, but it never occurred to me. I love not having to use different measuring cups and the precision I get. It pleases my inner cynic and my OCD.

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Horror Drama

I have contempt for the Final Destination movies. I saw the first one and it still strikes fear into me. I know it’s a horror movie and it’s supposed to have that effect. Unlike other horror flicks, Final Destination has two major differences for me: 1) Horror movies don’t normally scare me. I love gore and believe every film needs a proper decapitation. 2) The fear should dissipate after the movie ends. Final Destination created new idiosyncrasies for me. On every flight, I check my tray table to make sure the latch isn’t broken. One day, it will break and it will be extremely difficult to stay on the plane.

Good movies should shock you and make you question what you know. I admit that I have a strange sense of humour and a twisted definition of morality. My tastes in movies reflect that. It’s possible Final Destination struck too close to my pre-existing fear of flying. I hear the other two movies don't involve a fatal plane crash. I could watch them, but I doubt it’s worth my time.

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No Pizza For You!

It’s funny how when people don’t want to do something, they bring it to me. Today it’s ordering pizza for a supervisor. I’m no more capable of ordering pizza then he is. He doesn’t want to be bothered. I hate ordering food: for myself, for my family, and especially for other people. I don’t get any, yet I have to stress about getting the right amount, from the right place, at the right cost. I might get some of the cold leftovers but so will everybody else.

I never know how much to get. They like thin crust. I never order thin crust. It's for 53 people. I don’t know 53 people. One restaurant recommends that a 16” thin crust serves 3 people. Yikes! To make it worse, I have to order for two shifts. For someone who hates talking on the phone (see #8 from my profile), this is a murder of an order.

A lady retired a few years ago. She used to get stuck doing this, but for her it was simple. She didn’t care, worry, or over think it. I envy her, but not enough that I want to be like her.

Behave Or Your Pens Are Mine

One of my responsibilities is buying office supplies. As many know, this is obnoxious and often difficult. People are stupid and irrational when it comes to their crap. I’m not sure who’s worse: the paranoid user who needs 20 in stock to be safe, or the inflexible user who needs brand names. I can forget I’m dealing with grown adults. I especially love finding messy ink cartridges on my desk when a note would suffice.

These days I need permission for everything I buy. It is stressful. I need to price it out, keep it reasonable, get it approved, and keep everything in stock. I get zero love or help when I run out. Trust me, it is sad.

This week our paper ran out. Normally we buy it on sale and order enough for 6 months. Unfortunately, 6 months in this economy could mean zero to hero and back. Never mind getting $700 approved. I revised my normal order, cut it in half, and made my plea. Today, May 1, I rejoice. For today I ordered paper. It seems dramatic, but I’m honestly excited.

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The Period Has It

I think I’ve found a new way for my mild Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD) to shine through. The idea of this blog was to keep the update short and easy to read. I randomly decided at 1,000 characters. I considered doing 1,400 (10 X the amount of twitter), but felt that wasn’t necessary. Besides, 1,000 is a nice, even number. Monk would approve.

As I write and edit to fit my updates to my self-imposed restrictions, I find myself pushing for exactly 1,000. It annoys me. It pleases me. Beyond my own personal preferences, I don’t know if it matters.

Unlike Monk, I’m not plagued by OCD, although it’s appeal is strong. I like things even, straight, or matching. Perfection is appealing, but the work to achieve it is not. Luckily, I’m not plagued with the anxiety of someone who truly suffers. OCD has strangely become part of everyday language. Maybe it’s because we’re sensitive to reoccurring patterns?

Whatever the case, I’m going prove I’m not a slave to it. This update? Won’t be 1,000

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