I am beginning to get this feeling that the powers that be are trying to tell me something, something regarding my work. And I think the message is, although a bit obscure and probably entirely my imagination but everything seems to, at least in my interpretation, point to it, that I should stop coming to work. Now does it want to say work from home, or even the drastic quit altogether and just give up? I don't know.
So far this week, I've been locked out of my office on two days (as you'd already know from my last post). And yesterday, the metro train that I was in traveling to work suddenly lost all power and came to a standstill. The only lights that were on were near the emergency exits. I was contemplating the possibility that all aboard might have to get out and walk along the tunnel to the next station, when somehow the power was restored and the train moved along without further incidents. I guess that is nature's way of telling, I told you to stay out of the office, but you were too stupid to take the hint. So now I'm having to mess with the metro and inconvenience everyone else on board too. Are you happy now?
Surely, I should have been able to put two and two together. The last one month has been quite disappointing at work. The codes have gotten extremely fussy about running, let alone generating results that would appease the funding agencies and produce more funds and grants. Nature is saying, Look buddy, I'm just helping you out here.
But it seems that I still didn't get the hint. For today, there I was back again traveling to work. However, because of various reasons I'd to end up driving to work. Now anyone who has lived where I live and commuted to where I work would tell you, it ain't no picnic even on the best of the bright, sunny, lazy laidback sunday mornings when most of the populace is attending mass at their local churches. But I was driving to work at the peak rush hour, and what's worse, it is raining cats and dogs. I don't know what it is with rains and people crawling down to 10mph on the highway. But it is just the fact of life and I've learnt to live with it.
So while I was crawling along the interstate at snail's pace, I was surfing through the radio channels and got to hear some offbeat news which you don't usually hear everyday. According to the DJ the links are available at their website Hot 99.5 FM, but I am unable to find them.
Now I know many of you will say that listening to commerical radio is stupid, and that only news on NPR or some such is worth listening to. To those people, I say "pfft", I don't care. What follows is what I remember listening, so it might not be entirely accurate, be warned. Among them...
Fight over chicken dance: Apparently some place in Australia a few guys kept requesting the chicken dance song and kept doing the chicken dance on the floor repeatedly. This annoyed the bouncers so much that they manhandled the guys and threw them out of the joint and a fight broke out where one of the bouncers injured his opponent seriously. Well, I didn't like bouncers because they were huge and strong and can pummel a scrawny guy like me to death. But damn, they've got taste and I really side with them on this. Anyone doing the chicken dance deserves to be hit hard over his/her head.
Drunk kids: Underage kids were caught drinking by one of the kids' parents. A few of the kids held others hostage with a sledgehammer. The police were there trying to get them out, but gave up and left after a few hours at around 4AM. Apparently the kids eventually gave up and left at around 6AM. I seem to have forgotten a lot of details in this story. I remember there were more hilarious bits to this, but I was busy negotiating traffic and trying to swerve to avoid rear-ending someone who jumped in front of me.
Raccoon skinning in Arkansas: This one takes the cake in to my opinion. There was a planned skinning demonstration of a raccoon in a school. And the parent of the kid surprised the teacher by bringing a live animal in a trap instead of a dead one. Apparently, the teacher didn't have anything to kill the raccoon with before skinning it, so he used a nail gun to kill the animal before proceeding to skin it in front of the kids. Apparently only one of the kids in the whole class opted to sit out and not watch the proceedings. The AP article has some more details.
Now one of the DJs (No. 1) was wondering about how it is considered not so outlandish an occurrence in Alabama, but might be considered quite out of the ordinary here in north-eastern US. He opined that the teacher might be under a lot of heat for doing something like that. Of course, none of the DJs thought that a wild animal would even be allowed in school premises in these states. However, another DJ (No. 2, a woman) said that there were hunting and fishing clubs for kids in high school in certain states, and trapping, skinning and eating animals was essential knowledge that is taught to kids in some places. So to most people in those places, as probably in Alabama, it is just nothing more than a science project where you dissect an animal to learn about its internal organs.
So DJ No. 1 said that the teacher should be shot with a nail gun for using a nail gun on a raccoon in front of the kids. Then DJ No. 2 asked if DJ No. 1 would be OK with the whole skinning of the raccoon in front of the kids, if the teacher hadn't used a nail gun to kill the raccoon. He didn't think the whole skinning of the raccoon in school in front of the kids was acceptable either.
I am not sure what my feelings are on this issue. Yeah, the nail gun is a bit bizarre, but would you be OK if there was no nail gun involved? It would then just be a normal dissection class?
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
When it rains, it pours
And I'm not even talking about the rains that we're subjected to in this parts of the country for the last few days. Now was it two or three? I forget. My memory is degrading faster than my weight, but I'll get to that later.
So this is going to be a rant against my working conditions. And if you're allergic to rants, then I suggest you stop reading right now, I am not longer responsible for you dying of a brain hemorrhage. You've been warned.
To provide you with some background. I am a postdoc at a university in a department which shall be unnamed. Now the life of a postdoc isn't any better than the life of a PhD student. You get the same dingy cubicle, a desk, a very uncomfortable chair, and piles and piles of old printouts mysteriously end up cluttering your desk no matter how hard you try to keep it clean. And if you're lucky, the heating/cooling system will actually maintain a comfortable atmosphere in your cubicle. However, that almost never happens. What happens instead is that the vent directly above you blows hot air in summer and cold air in winter. They don't trust you with the thermostat settings because you don't have the requisite number of brain cells to set temperature on a thermostat. You're, however, expected to research on how helicopters fly. Now these cubicles often a dozen to room with the roominess of a VW bug, are often guarded by a strong door with graduate students often having electronic card access, or if you're really unlucky still managed by keys which you can get only after a three-month wait period... during which period you're at the mercy of your peers.
In my particular case, we're in the postdoc office. While dingier and more ancient looking than the graduate students' office, it does provide a sub-office (numbered XXXX-A, XXXX-B and so on) for each postdoc. There is, however, a catch. Isn't there always a catch. No one has keys to these sub-office doors. Everyone leaves their sub-office doors open and just hopes that the main door (numbered XXXX in our example) is secure enough to keep nosey types at bay. Things went on fine where everyone just left the door alone until this Monday. I show up at work and I find the door to my office locked and I'm without a key. I go up to the department office and apparently they don't have the master key either. So I was asked to track down a senior professor who happened to have the master key, so that I could gain access to my own office.
To make sure that this doesn't happen again, I diligently used duct tape to prevent the locks from locking and hoped that this would sort the problem. So imagine my surprise when I walk in today and find the duct tape removed and the door locked again. This time the senior professor was nowhere to be found. The people at the department office washed their hands off of any responsibility and refused to help me. So after a good two hours of running around I was able to find a person who was able to open my room.
Once I gain access to my office, I'm craving a cup of coffee. So I start brewing coffee, and as fate would have it, my coffee machine decides to have an abortion. The coffee grounds block the small opening that drips the coffee down into the cup and the water from the reservoir overflows in the filter and makes a mess of my desk. I manage to clean my desk, my coffee machine and salvage about a quarter cup of coffee from that ordeal.
I guess this is nature's way of saying, "you should've stayed home and not bothered to show up to work".
So this is going to be a rant against my working conditions. And if you're allergic to rants, then I suggest you stop reading right now, I am not longer responsible for you dying of a brain hemorrhage. You've been warned.
To provide you with some background. I am a postdoc at a university in a department which shall be unnamed. Now the life of a postdoc isn't any better than the life of a PhD student. You get the same dingy cubicle, a desk, a very uncomfortable chair, and piles and piles of old printouts mysteriously end up cluttering your desk no matter how hard you try to keep it clean. And if you're lucky, the heating/cooling system will actually maintain a comfortable atmosphere in your cubicle. However, that almost never happens. What happens instead is that the vent directly above you blows hot air in summer and cold air in winter. They don't trust you with the thermostat settings because you don't have the requisite number of brain cells to set temperature on a thermostat. You're, however, expected to research on how helicopters fly. Now these cubicles often a dozen to room with the roominess of a VW bug, are often guarded by a strong door with graduate students often having electronic card access, or if you're really unlucky still managed by keys which you can get only after a three-month wait period... during which period you're at the mercy of your peers.
In my particular case, we're in the postdoc office. While dingier and more ancient looking than the graduate students' office, it does provide a sub-office (numbered XXXX-A, XXXX-B and so on) for each postdoc. There is, however, a catch. Isn't there always a catch. No one has keys to these sub-office doors. Everyone leaves their sub-office doors open and just hopes that the main door (numbered XXXX in our example) is secure enough to keep nosey types at bay. Things went on fine where everyone just left the door alone until this Monday. I show up at work and I find the door to my office locked and I'm without a key. I go up to the department office and apparently they don't have the master key either. So I was asked to track down a senior professor who happened to have the master key, so that I could gain access to my own office.
To make sure that this doesn't happen again, I diligently used duct tape to prevent the locks from locking and hoped that this would sort the problem. So imagine my surprise when I walk in today and find the duct tape removed and the door locked again. This time the senior professor was nowhere to be found. The people at the department office washed their hands off of any responsibility and refused to help me. So after a good two hours of running around I was able to find a person who was able to open my room.
Once I gain access to my office, I'm craving a cup of coffee. So I start brewing coffee, and as fate would have it, my coffee machine decides to have an abortion. The coffee grounds block the small opening that drips the coffee down into the cup and the water from the reservoir overflows in the filter and makes a mess of my desk. I manage to clean my desk, my coffee machine and salvage about a quarter cup of coffee from that ordeal.
I guess this is nature's way of saying, "you should've stayed home and not bothered to show up to work".
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