His & Hers

I'm working with an annoying husband-wife client team in Cube City these days, and I sometimes wonder why I ever volunteered to be a part of this "special" project. Clearly, I was duped.

What's most annoying about this couple is that, despite constant bickering, they refer to each other as "TL."

That's short for True Love.

Did you just throw up in your mouth a little bit? I thought so.

Here's how a sample conference call might go with the dynamic duo.

Him: I don't like the rounded corners of the callouts. They seem too soft for what we're trying to communicate. TL, what do you think?

Her: Actually, I think the soft, rounded corners really deliver the message that what people do with our product is up to them. It's their choice, and we'll stand by them. If we were to design these callouts with hard, squared-off edges, I think people would be offended, TL. I don't think they'd click on the callouts to continue their journey, and then we'd all be in a very sad, dark place.

I could go on and on, cube dwellers, but I think you get the picture. These people are smoking something good -- well, good for them and bad for us. They're so indecisive and yet simultaneously decisive. I think they're from outer space. As long as they don't moon me with their true love, it's possible I might survive this project.

Cube Q&A: Conference Call Hangups

Q: What should I do when I'm on a conference call in Cube City and an angry client hangs up on me?

A: Dearest cube dweller, don't dwell on this. Who cares if the call ended on a sour note? It ended! You just got a little piece of your life back. This is a call for celebration.

Ferrari Hats Only

There's a guy in Cube City who appears to be grossly overpaid because he drives a Ferrari. Every day, he wears a baseball cap with the Ferrari symbol on it. I mean it. Every. Day. I've never seen what he looks like without that hat. I guess he really loves his Ferrari.

A cube dweller who knows him well said that he often leaves his Ferrari in our office parking garage because it doesn't run very well. In fact, he has to get the clutch -- or some other equally important part, I can't remember -- replaced. Why is he stalling on that? Because the repair will cost $15K.

WTFerrari is up with that?! I guess he really loves his car -- like, more than a person. Or he was dropped on his head as a baby.

I once walked by his office and saw a post-it note that read, "Ferrari Hats Only." I'm pretty sure he didn't write that himself and someone was mocking him -- all the more reason to love the people I work with, even the ones who've been dropped on their heads. There's a hat for that.

Morning Sickness

Well, this is a first: To be in the Cube City ladies' room with someone who has morning sickness. Ew.

I've been drinking more water lately, so I've been making more frequent appearances in the ladies' room. Lately, there's been a sickly cube dweller in there with me.

At first, I didn't know what to do, so I did nothing. I heard sickness, thought how I would feel in that situation (I'd want to be left alone, but it feels wrong to ignore a sick person), and got out of there as quickly as possible. I was a baby about it.

Last week, the sickly person ran into the ladies' room as I was leaving and almost ran me over. She actually stopped for a second, eyes watering and hand covering mouth, to say, "I'm sorry! I have morning sickness. But this is between you and me. I'm not ready to tell anyone yet." Then she ran into a stall and went about her business.

If this is a secret, and she's not ready to tell anyone, why did she tell me why she's sick? She could have said she just doesn't feel well or has some mysterious form of cooties. So now I have this secret I can't share, but at least I can stop worrying and wondering about her.

I suppose morning sickness plagues us all one way or another in Cube City. I don't think you have to be pregnant to have a reason to throw up in the corporate bathroom. I'm just sayin'.

To Purge or Not to Purge?

Everything has its price, and this includes Working for Scissors.

Every September, I seem to start purging things. I get on a roll. I show no mercy.

I haven't worn these jeans in six months? GONE.

I've passed over this shirt for two weeks? GONE.

I never use the land line phone anymore. Hellooooo? GOODBYE.

My ability to purge without looking back is something that my significant stapler (a pack rat) cannot put into theory, let alone practice. Some of us are more sentimental than others.

When it comes to this Working for Scissors blog, I've been at it long enough to consider purging it too. However, there are limits to my purging.

I'm not on a big hunt for extra money or anything, but I figure why keep this thing around that I rarely use anymore? (It's the purger in me.)

Don't get me wrong. I enjoy this blog...when I'm in the mood. I just figure it would be interesting to see what else I could do with (or without) it.

Long ago, I looked into how to increase traffic to my blog, how to make money off my blog, and more. But what recently caught my attention was the idea of SELLING the blog.

That was before I saw what it was worth, though.

Use this tool to see how much your own blog is worth. If I know you, and I know your blog URL, chances are that I've checked your blog's worth and have come up with the same number as mine: a whopping $564.54. That's before taxes, for you accounting junkies out there.

I believe our thoughts are worth more than $564.54 before taxes, don't you?! So I guess this tool is bogus, but it still makes me wonder what I could do to turn my blog into something worth buying. Cube City needs to be good for something, you know?

I guess I will hold on to my blog for a while because it's not like the thing is taking up precious closet space or anything. Perhaps I'm more sentimental than I thought.

The Douche and the Paper Boy

As predicted in a previous blog entry, my Paper Boss is back in Cube City. Reportedly, he starts today. It took 9 months -- much longer than I had anticipated or suspected, the amount of time it takes to make a baby -- but it still feels good to be right.

My suspicions rose a few weeks ago, when a total douche at this company left a random "Smooch" comment on my Paper Boss's Facebook page. I hate people who have secrets and don't know what to do with them, so they do something totally lame like kissing someone over the interwebs. It's like they're saying, "I just found out about you and wanted you to know that I know, even though I can't talk about it, which is stupid because everybody knows I can't be trusted to keep secrets, and I'm sorry I never paid any attention to you the whole time you were gone...but now that you're coming back, I am suddenly interested in being your devoted friend again -- at work and on Facebook."

It should be interesting to have my Paper Boss around again, mostly because he's returning in a new role that will probably suit his skills and personality better. It seems that way on paper, anyway. I have my suspicions about why he isn't returning to my side of the business, but I probably shouldn't go there. So I won't. Unlike the douche, I can keep secrets, even the ones that are based only on my suspicions.

A Little SAD Lunch Commentary

Summer is almost over, which means Scissor Girl needs to get serious, put down the pizza, and lose a few pounds before seasonal affective disorder (SAD) takes over.

Since most meetings in Cube City occur over the lunch hour, you're pretty much screwed if you didn't pack a lunch. But I lucked out today, and a 90-minute meeting ended almost 90 minutes early. That rarely happens! Who has ever heard of an 11-minute meeting? This meeting miracle won't last or recur, I'm sure, so I'll just bask in it today.

Here's where Subway, the sandwich chain, comes in. I hate Subway. It's close to my office, it reeks of bread (a smell that actually repulses me, but only in a Subway), and I feel like it's a healthier option than most fast-food restaurants. Today, I really wanted crap food, but I forced myself to go to Subway.

When I arrived at Subway, I parked next to a car with the windows rolled down. The driver was reclining in the driver's seat, and he appeared to be napping. I don't know why or how you'd nap next to a noisy highway in 90-degree weather, but I assumed he was a sad cube dweller who needed a brief escape from reality/consciousness. Or maybe the smelly bread from Subway made him pass out. Too many carbs are never a good thing. I guess I'll never know the real story with that guy, but the truth is usually a lot more depressing than my imagination -- hard to believe, I know.

As I pulled out of the Subway parking lot with my healthy sandwich in hand, I couldn't help but wonder just how healthy Subway really is. I mean, food service is a very scary industry, and all the sandwich toppings at Subway are lined up in a row. Who knows how long they've been sitting out? Who knows how many flies have landed on the food? A potluck at work, laced with inevitable botulism, might be safer than Subway.

I think I'll go back to Subway, park my car there, roll the windows down, and take a nap. This stinky bread is making me pre-SAD.

My Birthday Is Over

Well, it was fun to get an early birthday gift in Cube City, but it should come as no surprise that all good things come to an end.

Today, I will meet a candidate to replace the mean lady who should have been fired but ended up leaving on her own terms. (Yes, the injustice of how that whole thing went down still kind of totally irks me.)

I know nothing about the new candidate except that she's not from the Northeast -- and that's a start.

What I do know is that this position doesn't need to be refilled. It didn't need to be filled in the first place. But as we all know, Scissor Girl is not an important person. What this means today is that Scissor Girl isn't important enough to spend company funds that don't need to be spent. We must have a VP shortage around here or something because people seem to be on a mission to fill this unnecessary position.

All I can say is that I hope the person we end up hiring isn't totally insecure. That alone would be the gift that keeps on giving.