2004-01-23

As expected, yesterday’s flirtation with fitness brought nothing but heartache. And by “heart,” of course I mean “ass.” It’s all over but the waddling. I feel as though I’ve been kicked in places where there should be only love, babies. Also, I was stymied by my clownish lack of coordination: at one point the bike pedals totally got away from me. You heard right – I lost control of a bike with no wheels. Stellar, no? It’s a good thing I don’t drive, or it would be carnage a go-go.

Here at work, they have me updating the unit’s work plan, which is a document so colossally useless it should be filed under “comic relief.” Every year we sit everyone down and have them list off what activities they perform on a daily basis, and the expected outcomes of these activities. (Not included: “Surf net. Goal: distraction, mental.”) I suppose the idea is that every employee will keep a laminated copy of the completed document above their desks, so in case of sudden mental lapse, they can refer to it to determine exactly what it is they’re supposed to be doing. I figure that if people can’t remember their own goddamn jobs from one day to the next, they’re going to need a lot more help than a crappy Word printout can provide; but hey, what do I know? A quick reference shows me that “thinking” is not listed on my work plan.