November 19, 2004


To do, Friday, November 19, 2004:

Create a 21-page architectural services contract using the American Institute of Architecture's contract document software. Make it full of additions and strikethroughs and carefully tracked revisions in every florid, elaborate article and sub-article. In fact, strike out the entire text of half of the articles and replace it with new text that's just slightly better. Don't forget to refer to absolutely everything in capitalized terms: Site Report, Architect, Project, etc. Add lots of supplementary conditions, or rather, Supplementary Conditions.

Spend all day on it, most likely, working with all the frenzy of a 75-wpm typist on a panic-inducing deadline. Be totally inappropriately gleeful because a) you actually do, for some reason, really enjoy typing, b) you also enjoy showing off with your fast clicky noises, and c) as long as you're concentrating intently on an complicated task nobody can waylay you to demand in a panicky voice that you help them readjust their stapler.

Okay, I made up the stapler thing.

Edit: I paused after 4 pages to point out to the taller project manager, pursuant to his conversation with the office clown, that offering to split a half-hamburger would actually mean he'd only get a quarter of a hamburger. He stared at me for a moment, then admitted that oh, yeah, I guess that's true.

"She's being technical," said the office clown. "You can't say anything in front of her today."

The taller project manager nodded. "She needs to be sent on a vacation," he mused as he wandered away.

Second edit: It is, I've decided upon careful consideration, generally frowned upon to fire semiautomatic weapons at a pile of homemade quilts, the Stay-Puffed marshmallow man, a fluffy kitten or any other soft and inoffensive object. Does anyone know if a similar unspoken rule applies to putting "Siamese Dream" on the office stereo at full, grindy, angsty volume to replace the depressing morass of floaty (yet very loud) New Age music that's been turning my brain to mush for the last forty-five minutes? If any of you find yourselves doing research on this subject, please update me with your findings. I'll try to refrain from doing anything rash until I hear from you.

Posted by dianna at November 19, 2004 10:41 AM

Fuck up that guy's stapler!

I bet it's a red Swingline, too...he'll be devastated!

Posted by: Erik at November 19, 2004 11:54 AM

Noooooo. The last time somebody fucked up one of his desktop accessories I had to spend hours figuring out how to replace it with one of the exact same specifications. I'm not doing that again, damnit.

Posted by: Dianna at November 19, 2004 11:56 AM

your project managers, i mean Project Managers, don't rely heavily on 3-hole punches, do they? because when those things get out of alignment, it's a whole day's work to set them right.

do you have a code to bill your hours to Office Supplies?

Posted by: katie at November 19, 2004 03:22 PM

Not specifically. Did you know that after an entire day of typing big words correctly, I can't even spell specifically? I mistyped it twice. Mush, I tell you.

I don't have a code to bill my hours to Office Supplies. Now that I think of it, though, I do have a code to bill my hours to the personal account of the Stapler Man. Oh, man is that a brilliant idea. It would create havoc when invoicing time came around, but the look on his face upon finding out he was being billed for three hours of clerical support (I mean, Clerical Support) for his goddamned staple remover would be a thing of beauty and a joy forever.

Posted by: Dianna at November 19, 2004 04:17 PM