Tag Archives: Work

Hello, IT Help Desk? My Computer Is About to Explode

Lately, work has had network problems. First, the oldest version of Internet Explorer possible was interfering with my blogging market research. Then we couldn’t access our shared drives, and then our printers weren’t working.

Then everyone else could print…except me.

After following the instructions, then trying my own way, and then having a coworker try, I realized it wasn’t something I could fix, and I would need to call the Help Desk.


If you’ve never had to call a Help Desk, this is summary of how that goes:

IT Person: Is your computer on? (This is optimistic. Sometimes they ask if your computer is plugged in.)

Thoughtsy: Yes.

IT Person: Are you sure?

Thoughtsy: Yes.

IT Person: Please confirm that the power icon is lit up.

Thoughtsy: It is.

IT Person: Let’s try restarting your computer.

Thoughtsy: I did that already.

IT Person: Let’s do it again.

Thoughtsy: Ok. It’s back up. (Sometimes I don’t actually restart. If you do this, wait the appropriate amount of time.)

IT Person: Is your computer on?

Thoughtsy: Yes.

IT Person: Please confirm that the power icon is lit up.

Thoughtsy: Yes…no…well, it’s blinking red and smoking. Holy crap! Now it’s spitting out M&Ms. AWESOME!

IT Person: Are you finished?

Thoughtsy: ::head hung in shame:: Yes.

IT Person: Do I have your permission to access your computer remotely?

Thoughtsy: ::closing blog, personal email, and map to buried treasure:: Yes.

Then you watch as the IT person does the exact same thing you tried…and it still doesn’t work.

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “I don’t know why you can’t just be a REAL woman and drop that thing in the field, then go back to picking cotton. Damn.”—Mistyslaws

Only You Can Prevent Firework Fires

Other than a few people, most of my coworkers know very little about me. I like to keep my personal life separate from my work life.

I wish work would show me the same respect and only send me work-related emails instead of emails on Firework Safety.  “Handles fireworks” is not in my job description.

Why does work assume that I will shoot off my own fireworks tomorrow?


  1. Never use fireworks in your home. Always set them off outside on a driveway or sidewalk. Last year Kiefer showed us that even outside is a bad idea.
  2. Obey local laws. If fireworks are not legal where you live, do not use them. Fireworks are illegal in my state, so why wasn’t this #1? Or the only one?
  3. Always have water handy. (A hose or bucket.) How big should the bucket be?
  4. Never point or shoot fireworks at another person. Are there any exceptions?
  5. Use common sense. Why doesn’t this fall under the previous guideline?
  6. Do not try to re-ignite a “dud” as it could explode near your hands or face. Only the duds can take off your limbs.
  7. Only light one at a time. What about the finale?
  8. Do not try to make your own fireworks. Challenge Accepted.

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “Haha, that sucks. I work at CVS and yes people steal pregnancy tests all the time. I always wonder how they’re going to afford a kid if they can’t shell out the money for a test. They should have been thinking ahead and stolen some condoms.”—Michelle

The Trifecta: Fat, Old, and Small Boobs

This story I’m about to tell all happened within 30 minutes. I shit crap you not. Look. I cussed. You know it’s real.

Recently, I stopped by my old job to visit Matchmaker Coworker. Someone else was there that I hadn’t seen in awhile.

Forever-Single Old Guy: You look…different.

Co-Worker: It’s her eyelashes. She looks cute.

Me: Do I look old? I’m almost 32.

Forever-Single Old Guy: I think you’ve put on a few pounds.

Me: ::mouth drops open::

Forever-Single Old Guy: You filled out. It’s good. You look more…mature.

Me: So I’m fat…and old. Fantastic.

I’ve put on 3 pounds since I worked there. Three pounds. Obviously, it’s 3 pounds of muscle. Grrrr….

After this exchange, I decided to hide in my cubicle for the rest of the day. But back in my new building, I found a bake sale in the lobby.

Unsuspecting-Victim-of-Poor-Timing: Would you like to buy something from our fundraiser?

Me: No, thank you.

Unsuspecting-Victim-of-Poor-Timing: We have healthy stuff, too: fruit, granola bars…water.

Me: Seriously?

Back at my desk, I showed Ddot the t-shirts Matchmaker Coworker and I were wearing for a special event.

We mispelled "Ddot."

We mispelled “Ddot.”

Ddot: So these are Matchmaker’s boobs?

Me: No…. They’re mine.

Ddot: They look….

Me: Too big to be mine. I know. It’s the font.

Ddot: No, the hair…looks like….

Me: Just let it go….

Who knew all of that was possible before 10 AM? That, my friends, is why I blog.

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “I say go with every opportunity. Best case you meet the man of your dreams. Worst case you get a blog post. Ok, almost every opportunity. I just got a random flash of slasher movie still shots.”—Skipping Stones

Kill All the Trees!

A few months ago, I switched jobs. Same Special Ops location, different office, different coworkers.

One of my new coworkers is extremely…environmentally friendly.

Which is fine. I like the environment. However, I do tend to kill any plant I try to grow but not on purpose.

On the first day of work, my new coworker handed me a CD with some background documents to read, and he said, “I burned them onto a CD. Savin’ trees, you know?”

Fantastic. Only I didn’t have a computer yet.

The next day I had a few options:

  1. Print out the documents at home and bring them in to read. (My money.)
  2. Sit around and do nothing. (Your tax dollars!)
  3. Ask a coworker to print them out. (Also your tax dollars, but ink and paper is cheaper than my time.)

I opted for Option 3. Even now that I have a computer, I often still print out documents to edit. Instead of hiding from the coworker, I stand over the printer laughing maniacally saying…

Lindsey at Happy or Hungry drew this picture specifically for my post because she's awesome.

Lindsey at Happy or Hungry drew this picture specifically for my post because she’s awesome.

Kill all the trees! BWAHAHAHA!

I catch more mistakes on paper than I do on the computer monitor.

Holy macaroni! I can’t believe I missed that comma splice!

It’s the glow of the screen. It’s distracting.

Thoughtsy : Glowing Screen :: Bug : Bug Zapper

Haaaaaave you met Lindsey? She’s famous for the wedding piggy back fail.  And she just turned the Big 3-0, so you should go wish her a Happy Birthday! 

How Horrible Is Your Boss?

Horrible bosses. We’ve all had one. Maybe even two.

If you’ve had more than 3, look at yourself because you’re the common denominator.

I’m too nice to call any of my bosses 100% horrible, but I’ve had a couple bad experiences:

  • One boss wouldn’t let me leave early during a snowstorm. It took me 4 hours to get home. Thanks. Thanks a lot.
  • Another boss would tell me to change something about an article I’d written, and then she’d tell me to change it back. Stop wasting my time!

My bosses were no where near as horrible as the bosses in the movie Horrible Bosses, but if I ever encounter one, I’ll know what to do. Here’s what I learned from the movie:

  • $5,000 buys you a murder consultant, not a hitman.
  • Never put someone else’s toothbrush in your butt crack. If he dies, that butt DNA makes you a suspect.
  • Downloading music or movies illegally = a dime in prison.
  • “A dime in prison” = 10 years.
  • Spinning around in a chair is not intimidating…unless you’re Sharon Stone.
  • Three people spinning around in chairs is a musical number.
  • Never pee on a playground…even at night when no kids are around.
  • The side effects of snorting cocaine* look exhausting: hyperness and constantly running to the bathroom.

Oops...Dropped some....

*Unlike every other post where I mention crack, this time I actually mean really real cocaine, not just some delicious dessert.