Work Dinner, Work, No More Work: Vacation!

I didn't bother bringing sneakers to work today, and didn't feel like wearing the grown-up shoes I had there, so I just kept my boots on. It was surprisingly comfortable, clumping around in what I refer to as my "big honkin' snow boots" all day. And although I spent the day on a report written by someone who used "inherit" when she meant "inherent," well, the day ended, as they all do, eventually.

After work I went to the car dealership (much though I hate to, as you may recall, given that old blog label I had for "bad Mazda dealer"), since I managed, while cleaning snow and ice off the car on Sunday, to somehow damage the little doo-hickey on the hood where the windshield washer fluid comes out. It usually comes out at roughly a 30 degree angle, maybe? And since Sunday, it has come out at, at most, 5 degrees. Blurp. Useless. And in this week of weather and slush and spray, I really need the stuff to hit the windshield. Did I mention this was on the driver's side? So I made time to go over, and after a bit of hesitation on the part of Person One about finding someone to talk to in service, and then a little hesitation on her part about whether the guy could look at it, she took it back and returned it to me in under five minutes, done and fixed and no charge, merry Christmas. So that went surprisingly well!

Now, I know you've all been dying to hear how the work holiday party appreciation day went. The answer is: overall, not bad, certainly better than last year, but still with its moments of laughable cluelessness, like being given just about the least-chosen-for-me gift I could be given.

So, to start, we were having lunch in the office, with champagne specially authorized by the CEO. In the morning, the boss mentioned that she'd have to go out for some glasses, and I told her where there was a party store not far off; in the end I went with her to get them since apparently she has no sense of direction (she was ready to turn the wrong way out of the office park, so she really did need the navigator).

She did place the pizza order herself, which I was glad not to have to do, and she got sodas too, so I could have my preferred drink, Coke. The lunch was fine, and afterward when there were two bottles of champagne unopened, the boss presented them to my boss and me, "in appreciation of all editorial does for us." Which, okay, sounds nice, but I'm pretty sure it was because what else do you do with two bottles and a whole bunch of people, oh look, two editors, two bottles, perfect. Given that I don't really drink alcohol, however... I mean, I took it, I said thank you, but really. No warm fuzzy feeling elicited. (I'm going to a Christmas party on Sunday, so I'll take it there. Should bring a laugh if nothing else! Can anyone tell me, do you bring champagne chilled? I feel like you do, but I'm the last person to know.)

Then there was dinner. It was definitely an upgrade over last year's ordeal, but we were still there over three hours, what with waiting for everyone to trickle in, and how long it takes them to serve a dozen+ people apps and salad and dinner and dessert. The food was certainly better, so no complaints there.

This morning when she came in, by the way, my boss asked me, "how was your dinner?" As if she hadn't been there, within sight and hearing of me... She is so odd.

Two incidents this week pointed out another unpleasant thing about my boss, in fact, like I needed more.

• First, she was talking about the analyst who wrote the report I was working on last week/early this week. This guy has a name whose ethnic background I don't know, possibly Indian, and which has a similar sound as his boss' name though I don't think that one is Indian (actually, I don't know what ethnicity it might be from), and she was mixing up the names with each other and getting them wrong, and then said something like, "Why can't everyone have names like John and Susan?" Which is, ahem, kind of Eurocentric, isn't it? Just me?
• Then, in speaking of one of the directors, who is French, and whose group's work has been a large part of our workload recently, she commented, "I thought the French were lazy." Which, what? Is that supposed to be funny? She often says things that I don't find funny and then laughs, so it seems we have incompatible senses of humor, but she didn't laugh after this, so ... she was serious?

It's also annoying me that she frequently will tell me to work on things that weren't e-mailed to me, and I have to tell her (over and over) that I don't know what she's talking about, I wasn't on that e-mail, they didn't send that one to me. Then today, she said of an item, "I'll forward it to you, he didn't send it to you," and I had to say, "Yes, he did." Because, you know, he did. She hasn't quite mastered Outlook, is what I'm saying.

Phoo--you can tell I haven't thrown off the bonds of work, can't you? Vacation time, missy! Stop thinking about work! Disengage!

Here's what I want to think about, actually: a lace shawl pattern that I came across today, that I am dying to knit. The pattern is Queen Anne's Lace, here, but don't miss all the pictures of this one version of it, ohmigod, gawjus.

 

I'm trying to tell myself that I don't have time to get it started before Monday morning, for it to be plane knitting ... but I don't think I'm listening.