First I'd just like to say that I am the number one worst 23-year-old to ever roam the earth.

I went to bed at 7:30 last night. I went to bed at 7:30 on a Friday night. I really wanted to stay up until 8 to catch the end of CSI, but I just couldn't get past 7:30. Granted, I had to be up at 5:50am in order to leave for work by 6:30, but that's hardly an excuse. 10+ hours of sleep is hardly necessary.

Also, when I woke up this morning? Insanely exhausted.

This morning at work I received a call from a customer's son. He called to cancel his father's subscription, for the poor man (GRHS) had passed on. When we cancel accounts we have to post the reason for the cancellation on the account so that others in the office who pull up that account can see why we lost the customer. The message that I typed read: Pissed on.

If my Saturday-working cohort hadn't caught it before I made it offical someone might have thought that a customer cancelled his subscription because someone dropped his pants and relieved himself all over said customer. I know that if someone pissed on me I'd be mighty upset about it. I don't know if I'd necessarily take it out on my local newspaper, but I would most assuredly be - um - pissed off.

Posted by Taylor on February 19, 2005 @ 8:34 pm

My diet is so bad I should probably be arrested.

I just had ten pieces of bacon and two martinis for dinner. Arrested, I tell you.

Posted by Taylor on February 18, 2005 @ 6:16 pm

A large part of my job is dealing with both current and prospective subscribers.

I start and end accounts, put holds on accounts for vacations, and call people to tell them that if they don't pay us the $2.43 they owe we're going to come to their house and smash all their windows.

Yesterday I got a call from a man looking to start a new subscription. He owns an advertising agency with a really awful name that I will leave out for fear of being Googled (even though he doesn't have a website - believe you me, I've already checked). Now, I ask him for delivery instructions and he says: "You have to go under a white archway. There will be a lot of flags. I like flags. Especially our kind, if you know what I mean." To which I laughed uncomfortably and asked him for his phone number, but only because I had to for his account info.

So I call him this morning to make sure his subscription started properly per procedure and he tells me that he never got his newspaper. I weep a little on the inside because I know that this only means further dealings with this man and then I tell him that I will call the company that delivers our papers and have one sent out to him. He asks me which city I live in because, apparently, in his reality, that's an appropriate question to ask the guy from the newspaper that you've only ever spoken to once before.

'Round 2:30 I receive another call. He still hasn't received his paper (I'm honestly convinced that he received it and threw it in the trash so that he had another excuse to call me). I tell him that I'm terribly sorry and that there really isn't an excuse for this type of service. He asks if I could possibly personally deliver the paper to him. On some other plane of existence I bellow "CREEPY QUEER" into the phone and hang up, but on this plane of existence I tell him that I do not deliver the paper, but just sit at a desk. Crestfallen, he tells me that he'll settle for an alternate delivery person.

My phone rings at 3:15 and I know it's him. I just know it. I ask a co-worker to answer my line. It was him. He asked for me. My co-worker told him I went home. He proceeds to tell her roughly 4,000 times that I'm an excellent employee of the paper and that he'd appreciate it if this information could be passed on to my boss. My co-worker hangs up the phone and then tells everyone in the building about my not-so-secret admirer. What a weiner...

Posted by Taylor on February 17, 2005 @ 6:24 pm

T-minus 20 minutes until American Idol.

I will not lie to you. I was all about season one. I even voted during season two. I lost my love for it during season three. Three just wasn�t there. It wasn�t up to snuff. And now I find myself thoroughly addicted to season four for two reasons: a) my life is severely lacking the B-class drama that only American Idol can provide and b) if I don�t watch I won�t have anything to contribute to the American Idol recap that takes place ever Wednesday and Thursday morning at work. My boss is addicted. She had a count-down going on all day. I think I�m going to make her a paper chain counting down to the finale.

In an attempt to gear up for the show tonight I�m listening to a little Miss Clarkson. That bitch has got it going on right now.

Also, I�m going to go downstairs and make a bacon and maple syrup sandwich.

Before I go stuff my face full of fried, greasy bacon coated in sweet, sticky syrup, though, I�d like to say that I was really disappointed when I saw the opening sequence of Queer Eye for the Straight Girl tonight. They show the three homos with their little banners reading The Locale, The Look, and The Life and then they show the dyke with her banner reading The Lady. I really, really think it should read The Lesbian. The Locale, The Look, The Life, and The Lesbian. I really think it should be The Locale, The Look, The Life, and The Rug Muncher but I suppose that just ruins the whole alliteration thing they had going on.

Posted by Taylor on February 15, 2005 @ 7:52 pm