I wonder if that silly duck will remember he can fly

Professional problem solver draws a blank.

I broke my glasses about a month ago and had done nothing about them because, gack, what a hassle, and I had found a replacement pair and that was working just fine. I had also found that I had half a dozen replacements, all broken in nearly the same way, and someone should do a time and motion study on that. But summary statement is, they were broken and on the dresser -- not even of my own room, but the guestroom. They were doing their best to be fogotten that way.

Friday night I am out with the fellas, and Nick says (because he notices things like this and is a very generous conversationalist) "those are new." "No, they're old, actually," I say, and launch into the uninteresting story of how they have been broken for a month...... well, it's all about my VSP, you see, and what's covered. Because the lenses are covered annually, but frames are every other year. Only I can't remember when I bought these, because the prescription ....

Jay tenderly interrupts, taking my hands across the table. "I think you'll find..." he begins, with a careful pause to be sure he has my attention, "that you can afford your glasses."

Blink. Blink. Because of course it takes Jay to remind me that we are not poor anymore.

Ten years ago, when we were both trying to leave the field that made us so poor, and I thought we were trapped, because what else in the world COULD we do, it was also Jay who observed, "I am pretty sure we can find other jobs that pay 27 thousand a year."

What makes this story come to its embarrassingly obvious close is that Monday when the pipes burst I decided to drop by the Eye Cent-a and make inquiries, as they say. The receptionist "pulls my card" (honestly, a CARD from a metal file drawer. It was lovely) and says "They're under warranty. We'll fix 'em." Egg, meet face.

Sometimes I make things so hard.

Bread and Toilets

Let me tell the story of the plumbing failure first, so you can follow where this train of thought takes me. The water main break in town this morning had caused a water shut-off by 10am, and an email from the Facilities office asking us to "use bathrooms sparingly." (a hundred pregnant woman belly-lifted themselves out of non-ergonomic chairs to march on the executive wing, as soon as they could catch their breath.)

Use bathrooms sparingly, you occupants of 1 million square feet of office space.

I had already punched up the OSHA statement on this very problem and was about to send it to my HR rep by the time we were ordered home:

If the employer does not provide reasonable access to toilet facilities when the employees need to use them, the employer would be in violation of OSHA's general industry sanitation standard (29 Code of Federal Regulations §1910.141(c)(1)(i)). OSHA addressed the issue of employee access to toilet facilities in a memorandum to OSHA's Regional Administrators dated April 6, 1998 (copy enclosed). This memorandum is a public document and is available on OSHA's website www.osha.gov.

which brings us to our topic.
Which do you like better, the fact that the US Government has ruled on what is "reasonable" access to toilet facilities, or the fact that they did it in 1998.

I'll tell you what you'll like best: reading the memorandum. Let me give you some highlights so that you too can become completely annoying in your workplace

Toilets must be located in separate rooms for each sex.
So Ally McBeal was in violation. If you have a one-seater, you do not have to designate them by sex, but the urinal will probably give it away.

Facilities must contain hot water, soap, towels or blowers, and trashcans. If showering is required, shower soap must be provided. Don't let them pretend they are doing you some kind of big favor.

No employee shall be allowed to consume food or beverages in a toilet room nor in any area exposed to a toxic material. This seems like a good rule. The better rule is 2 paragraphs later when you learn that you can't store food there either. So IF you are caught with your apple or coffee cup, don't try saying you were jusy "putting it away."

The memorandum (man, I miss that word) opens with an explanation of why human beings should be allowed to urinate when they need to, citing the New England Journal of Medicine. The issue of "accessibility" and "promptness" required a field sanitation ruling on how far from the field is safe for the spinach and close enough to be safe for the worker. One quarter mile. Sounds longer than it is - 70 yards - but I know a few of you who will say you wouldn't make it.

The Company can not place "unreasonable restrictions" on your bathroom use. Which means it can place reasonable restrictions. Think of that. And just what that means may depend on how much stamina you have to take your case to the Supreme Court.

In the Mill where I work, back when it spun wool into gold, "each and every absence, no matter how small, by a day hand, must be deducted from the time of the absentee." Once presumes it was more than a quarter-mile to the privvy.

You might be interested to learn that OSHA can not have an opinion on whether or not your bathroom breaks are considered unpaid. That is the authority of the Division of Wage and Hour, and a different website.

I think what I'm saying is, if you are reading this on the job right now, especially if that happens to be in your living room, or on a Treo in the lobby of your daughter's ballet class, if you can go to the bathroom as much as you damn well please...thank a Mill Girl.

Mulligan's Stew

From our grabbag of things you thought maybe you dreamed from the 70s that really did happen.

How I Managed to Blow NaBloPoMo on the First Day

It's called National Blog Posting Month -- correction: it is CALLED NaBloPoMo. It is NAMED National Blog Posting Month. A simple premise: commit to posting every day. And I blew it.

I also fake my updates, in case you haven't caught on through the miracle of Google Reader, but this is dated Nov 1 and it is Nov 3. So I already blew it. It wasn't hard to blow it. I simply missed posting every day by the 3rd day.

Truth is, I thought I was farther behind than I was, because I forgot I had posted the Offermatica picture on Thursday, smack dab in the middle of the workday. (A girl could lose a finger!)

So that pressure is off, and now that I have removed both the goal and the ambition, I probably will manage to post every day , since I have taken my life back through the miracle of the 4 game sweep.

Please enjoy... list of things I did with my evenings this past week without baseball.

Monday - Ya kiddin' me? went to bed

Tuesday - Propped myself with a book I ended up hating and watched a movie instead. My rule on books is that I will give you a hundred pages, but life is too short to read bad books. If you can't keep me to page 101, you go right across the room. Or, you get skimmed, which is the equivalent of watching a movie on FFwd, both of which I do. (and plenty. but more on Ted Turner's Gettysburg at another time. I won't give too much away, but it's the world's slowest bloodbath. Don't ask Virginians about Pickett. We still bite our knuckles over it.)

Wednesday - Recording for the Blind, where I was completely bested for the first time in 11 years by my assignment. I need to blog about that separately too. See how I can easily do this every day if you don't make me?

Thursday - drinks with an exiting work-buddy. The going away parties at the Local are starting to stack up on each other, and it gets kind of awkward when you walk in for one person's bash, and other people are there thinking you are coming to their bash. But you weren't. Until now.

Friday - Dinner and a show with the Tarletons. I love dating married couples. Especially when they are boys and let me order first.

Don't count me in the Blog Post ring. But I'll try to give you plenty to explore through the week.

Next time: reading the Phonetic Alphabet and hunting down the borrower who wants you to.

who let that happen?

website layout is harder than you think.

The dog....does not make me want to hire you.

The guy... needs a shave