Can't remember the lyrics from Mozart's Don Juan. Driving me to distraction. I know the melody, but the lyrics are something like: "give me your hand Marina.." Something like that.
Trying to find the 'what I learned today thread' - or whatever it was called.
I think it was one of littlek's, but I can't find it can't find it can't find it.
was it What I learned at A2K? I seem to remember one like that..
Don't remember it, but that doesn't mean much.
Found one. Not the 'right' one, but I used it to deposit my 'romance learning'.
Okay, so it's not something that made me grit my teeth today -- in fact, today has been an excellent day, full of sun, sweat, swimming dogs, movies, good food -- anythiong but mandatory tasks.
But it leaves me with a floppy tongue and everybody I've got to talk about has fallen asleep with their sunskin and their food and wine and whatnot...
So, I'm basically a highly-trained but relatively inexperienced (especially within the environs of a large teaching hospital, which is very different from a small veterinary clinic or, more relevant to my own experiences, an animal shelter) employee right now. Not as useful as the people who get paid to do things, but full of useful (if undigested and little evaluated) information.
Part of my job is a fair amount of dog walking. When I've got a patient I've got to make sure they have opportunity to **** and piss and get a little bit of stimulation, excitement, and relief. You know, living instead of existing. The only facilities that students have to make sure the canine patients have this opportunity is a run about eight feed wide and maybe eighty feet long. About 40 feet of this length is coarse gravel.
Every dog over 20 or 30 pounds hates walking on the stuff. The dogs I walk, the dogs I see other people walk, the dogs I talk to people about it, do everything they can to avoid the gravel. They piss and **** on the fifteen feet or so of concrete between the door and the gravel (which they're meant to use, presumably because the piss and **** can be washed away instead of into the soil there. Or they stick close to the building, where there's a little apron of concrete between the wall of the building and the gravel, and they walk down this to the twenty-five feet of grassy area (with one of the corners cut away by some inexplicably angular parking lot fencing and which has been home to a lazy and (so far) small hornets' nest for the last couple of weeks). Or they piss in the hallway and then try to go back to their own concrete run right away.
At any rate, it's clear that dogs are not well-served by this so-called "exercise area." They can barely eliminate there, let alone exercise.
And I don't bitch about this selfishly. It's not especially inconvenient for me -- in fact, if the dog doesn't want to spend any time outside it's easier for me to get back to other **** I have to do and maybe get out of the door before sunset during the longest days of the year -- but it's a major creature discomfort for dogs who are in the hospital for more than a couple of days. And for an institution that is making a serious effort to prove that it's a good idea to provide more comfort for production animals, it comes off a little shoddy to make life miserable for a large -- perhaps the largest, both in numbers and in revenue -- segment of it's residents.
So one day, about a month ago now, I sent an email to the head administrative honcho of the hospital, who's always tried to make a show of being approachable even though he appears as unconcerned as he could be with anyone who doesn't wish to tow the lines that he tosses out from his little rowboat. (Getting an image of the wee man, with his stout belly and finely pruned mustache and balding head of shellacked hair, decked out in the sort of outfit an 1890s Oxford rower or Rocky-and-Bullwinkle mustachioed muscleman would have worn, feverishly rowing an outsized dinghy against an overwhelming slosh of a tide. It'd make a good political cartoon, too, if I wanted to get antebellum on his ass.) He'd written to remind us that it was strictly to forbidden for anybody but a select few of senior employees to walk patients' animals anywhere but in the crappy little run. I wrote back -- well, pretty much what I've gone on about above, but with a bit more, mmmm, tact. I cc'd my colleagues, since I knew it was an issue for some of them, too, and perhaps they'd like to join me in complaint.
Since that time I've received a great deal of response -- verbally, from classmates I barely know, all of it vigorously supportive. But I haven't heard back to the administration (not even a "Thanks for your concern") once. Nor has anybody who's come and said thanks for sending the message joined in support.
Which just pisses me off, about the heartless administration and my gutless (or at least careless) colleagues. The people who don't care, I don't even really blame for not caring, but the people who say they care and don't do anything are problematic.
And, ****, I'm not even a motivated enough sort of person to further advocate for an improvement in the conditions.
Maybe if I wrote a letter to the editors of the campus and local newspapers and showed it to the admins before I sent it something would happen. I'm sure that the higher-ups wouldn't be so small as to make life more difficult for me, and the sort of lower-downs who would be inclined to do so probably would do so for other more personal reasons anyway.
I think tomorrow I will write a letter. And maybe get some other folks to sign it, as well, if they're willing to put their name and reputation (such as it is) behind it. I know a few people who would be embarassed not to, including a couple of faculty. Hell, I'd put the damn letter on my resume if it worked, and pass it off as leadership skills...
Hope I remember this in the morning...
I'm grimacing because I'd love to read all of pdawg's rants, but I need to go to bed. Maybe domani.
Have a placido domingo...
Yesterday, I received a second phone call from some company that wants to replace my windows with hurricane proof shutters, etc. I kept interrupting him trying to say that I was NOT interested, and he would not allow it. I attempted to be patient until he finished his speil, but when he told me that the insurance commissioner of Florida would not allow my insurance to pay for damage done to my home should I not take steps to protect it with his company's products, I was furious. I wish I had been more attentive to the name of his company, because I would report such intimidation to said commissioner.
You are much more tolerant of these folk than I am, Letty. These days, the minute I realize it's a sales call, I just tell them I'm not interested (very politely
), thank them for the call & hang up.
patiodog wrote:Have a placido domingo...
Oy! Good luck with that.
What, a bit of grass would kill them, or just DIRT?
Started to make hard boiled eggs and got side tracked by unexpected guests with predictable results. So not only have I probably ruined a really nice saucepan, my guests must think I'm nuts and the whole house smells like exploded eggs...
My car's at the garage for some routine maintenance so I borrowed my
son Nigel's 96 Saturn to drive to work. That thing sits LOW. I felt like my
tush was about an inch and a half from pavement the whole ride. Getting
in and out is like climbing in and out of a hole.
_Heatwave_ wrote: A dad at M's daycare makes it a practice to park in the middle of the road, right up front at the exit of the driveway. I've had to wait behind him ten minutes one time. Last evening and this morning, I was parked up front and sure enough he parked right next to me. This is a two-lane driveway - no shoulder or anything for another car to squeeze past.
Urgh. Again, this morning. After two talking-to's by the Director. And this time they were (about to) block me. So I turned off the ingnition. Marched up to them. Said - uh you're blocking and really need to get to work. Made them turn back around ("Can you wait for two minute?" "Nope. Sorry. You're going to have to move."), put the child back in the car seat, and drive out and around the daycare to park (hopefully) properly.
Good for you! It's amazing, the sense of entitlement that some people have. You wonder if they take liberties because they really believe that they somehow deserve them or do they realize they're being ass holes but do it anyway, as long as they can get away with it?
Well, there was a voicemail yesterday evening from my creative director in Chicago. She made a presentation yesterday for the new ad campaign we're doing with our main client and, her message didn't sound good at all. She didn't say exactly how bad the presentation went or what the results were but, according to her, she went through hell with them.
I've discussed her here before. Many times. Add ALARMIST to my list of beefs about this woman. She can take our clients' simple question and turn it not only into a personal attack on her but a threat to our continued business as well so...I didn't know what to think about her message nor was I in a big rush to find out. I haven't spoken with her yet. I will shortly. But in the meantime...grrrrrr....
Negative messages in the evening are always such a treat!
My ex, not all bad(!) made a point of never calling people with bad news or difficult news in the evening, unless it was vital. I agree with him.
The dog stanks and when I bathe him I end up soaked and the bathroom as well...if I bathe him outside he gets filthy...and I always somehow manage to get dog hair in my mouth....but it's too hot for him to stay outside...over 100 degrees again today and I can't stand the stench...
eoe wrote:Well, there was a voicemail yesterday evening from my creative director in Chicago. She made a presentation yesterday for the new ad campaign we're doing with our main client and, her message didn't sound good at all. She didn't say exactly how bad the presentation went or what the results were but, according to her, she went through hell with them.
I've discussed her here before. Many times. Add ALARMIST to my list of beefs about this woman. She can take our clients' simple question and turn it not only into a personal attack on her but a threat to our continued business as well so...I didn't know what to think about her message nor was I in a big rush to find out. I haven't spoken with her yet. I will shortly. But in the meantime...grrrrrr....
See? I knew it was all blubber. I just got off the phone with her and, although the client gave her some opposition on a few of the photo selections we made, which is their right, she made it sound like the end of the road. Here I thought they'd cursed each other out and we'd lost our biggest client.
