Idiot moment, take 2

I think I'm just all out of sorts this week. This morning I woke up late feeling sluggish and scattered and a bit panicked because I was running late.

Then I tried to leave the house to walk the dog in my slippers.

I had my jacket on. I had the leash on the dog. I had the door open. We were about to step out onto the porch. And something didn't feel right. I looked down and realized I was still wearing my slippers. Oops.

I had to pull the dog back in the house so I could change into my shoes. The entire time I was doing this she was laying there, leash still on, her chin on her front paws, giving me this look. Like I was an awful tease to put her leash on and then not go anywhere. She was not pleased with me to say the least.

At this point I'm just counting my blessings that I'm fully dressed. And that it's Friday.

Idiot moment

I had an idiot moment today.

The entire time I've lived in this place (a little over a year and a half), I've felt like my kitchen was dark. There's no direct sunlight, I have to have a light on even in the middle of the day to really see what I was doing. I've tried those pop lights under the (few) wall cabinets to provide more light. I've seriously considered putting a desk lamp on the counter. Because my kitchen has one small light fixture in the center of the room. Well, technically a bit off center, but still, just one. One of those double bulb with a glass bowl cover generic fixtures. And my kitchen was just not a bright room.

Today the bulb burnt out. I flipped the switch and pop! No more light. Lucky for me the sun hadn't set yet, so while the kitchen bulb was out, I could still see enough to be able to change the bulbs in the fixture via the little bit of light filtering down between the row homes and through my window.

So I removed the glass bowl cover and lo and behold! discovered that I've had only ONE BULB this entire time. One single 100 watt bulb to light my entire kitchen. No wonder the room was so dimly lit.

*facepalm*

I replaced the single bulb with two high-efficiency 60 watt bulbs. And let there be light. It's almost too bright...I can see the dirt on the floor now.

Complicated things

I sent an email to a colleague on Friday right before I ate lunch. It was a rather convoluted email involving changing the URL of one internal webpage, adjusting the page's CSS template, and then creating a second page with a different CSS template that was actually the "parent" for the first page. And then adding the "link back" from the first page to the second because the second page is actually the one we want people to access first.

Got all that?

Yeah, neither did the person I sent the message to. Lucky for me, she checked in and clarified before she took any action so all is well now.

Mental note, don't e-mail complicated things when operating on low blood sugar. Lunch first, then email.

Misidentification

I bring my lunch to work pretty much every day. And once a week I take stock of what's in my fridge to make sure I have sufficient yogurt, fruit, and other goodies for the upcoming week.

This past Monday was a holiday. And it was bitterly cold. So I did an assessment of my fridge to see if I needed to actually venture outside to go grocery shopping or if I could stay snuggled up with hot mugs of tea all day. I counted my yogurts, the yummy pears in my crisper drawer, and made sure I had enough other ingredients to make 4 days worth of lunches, including confirming I had canned soup as a backup option. No problem. Lunch for the week: check! No need to brave the cold (other than to walk the dog).

So imagine my surprise when I went to get my last piece of fruit out of my drawer for lunch on Friday and discovered that it wasn't a pear, but an avocado. An avocado, people. Yes, still technically a fruit, but not what I expected or planned on. Or what I thought was there based on my fridge assessment on Monday.

OK, granted, they are about the same size and shape. And the pears I had were green, and this particular avocado was more green than not. But still...

How the hell did I mistake an avocado for a pear?!?

Falling UP a set of stairs

A "how-to"

1. Make sure said stairs have a lip at the front edge

2. Make sure you are in a hurry

3. Make sure you are carrying an armload of stuff (such as back volumes of journals or a bunch of gifts/packages/bags)

4. As you are going up the stairs, catch the tip of the toe of your shoe on the front lip of the stair

5. Fall forward ("up" the stairs), bashing your knee(s) into the stairs in the process

6. Two options: partial fall (6a) or full-on fall (6b)

6a. Don't fully go down, just bash one knee, but manage to stop "falling up" by catching yourself, getting your other foot under you and onto the next step, and continuing up the stairs in a kind of half-run until you regain control

6b. Fully fall forward, bashing BOTH knees, spilling said armload of stuff all over the stairs and having to use your hands to stop your forward fall and to prevent your face from hitting the stairs. Compose yourself briefly by sitting on the stairs, then gather belongings and continue on, limping slightly.

You have now successfully fallen up a set of stairs.

For full effect, make sure to do this in front of a large number of people, preferably frantic and stressed out students during final exam time, or, alternately, frantic and stressed out shoppers with toddlers in tow the weekend before the Christmas holidays.

Proof that I'm busy

Alternately titled: Proof that I'm a dork

I realize there's been a lack of regular posts lately. Well, I've been a bit busy. Still am. But I offer up the following story as proof that I really am that busy.

I am a cataloger. A continuing resources and electronic resources cataloger to be specific. I am extremely detail oriented by nature. I always have been. Fortunately, this trait is beneficial in cataloging. So my career choice is a very natural fit. What you need to take away from this paragraph: Shana = detail oriented. Little things don't usually slip through the cracks.

As you all know, we're undergoing a forced software migration. Two big services are merging, and one of them is being folded into the other. Unfortunately, my library was part of the service being absorbed, so we're migrating to the "other" service whether we like it or not. I have lots of experience with this other service, so I've been doing a lot of training to help facilitate this change. This is not news.

In June at the big ALA Annual Conference, we learned of the deadlines. The service being absorbed will be going away ("retired") the end of August. But, as of the end of July, while it will be there, nothing new will be added to it, rendering it pretty much useless for anything but searching legacy data. That means that as of August 1st, everyone in my library has to be using the "new other" software full time. This migration to the "other" software can't be completed until everyone upgrades to the new version, 2.0, of said software. Version 2.0 included some major changes, so it was decided that "orientation" sessions highlighting those changes needed to happen before everyone downloaded the update and started using it. It took me a few weeks to put together handouts, and I split the sessions over two weeks in the hope of accommodating various vacation schedules (it is, after all, the middle of summer).

So last week when I began the sessions I put a request into the IT department for them to put together the webpage for the software update. This is a standard "loader" webpage with instructions, and a link to the file they need (unzipped and ready to use), that is used for any software update/download at my library. No big deal. I asked that they put together the loader, but hey, told them they've got time because I don't want it sent out until AFTER I finished the version 2.0 orientation sessions (which I did on Wednesday). I even included a date in my message that they should send out the email to the staff with a link to the webpage with the download instructions.

I SENT THE WRONG DATE.

I looked at my message again today and panicked. Instead of Friday JULY 27th as the date in my message, I put Friday AUGUST 27th. I put the MONTH in wrong. This is a rather large problem, given that the staff need the software update by next Wednesday, not a month from now. So I sent a message apologizing profusely and asking that they put together the loader ASAP (please, pretty please, with sugar on top??). I got a reply, a very gracious reply, telling me they should be able to have something ready by tomorrow morning.

*whimper*

And at the same time, I had to send another message to IT asking them to install the software on the 17 machines in the electronic classroom so I can do some hands on training sessions next week (Wed. and Thurs.).

*sigh*

I either need more sleep or a nice stiff drink...I'm not sure which one is more appealing at the moment.

*headdesk*

Embarrassing moments at work

Ever have one of those embarrassing moments? Those moments that you hope and pray no one sees but you're sure someone did? I had one yesterday.

We have double glass doors into the tech services area of my library. They have locks at the bottom and are locked during non-business hours. One of the doors has a faulty lock that randomly slips and locks itself. So yesterday, I went to push the door open and walk through. But it had locked itself so it didn't move. But I kept moving. So I walked into the door. Fabulous. And I can't say it felt all that good either. Glass is hard. So is my head. Bashing two hard objects together is not a happy thing. Especially for the object that has nerve endings (that would be me, by the way).

Being the nice colleague that I am, I told my boss that the door had locked itself again (not everyone has a key, I don't, but he does) and could he please unlock it before someone gets hurt (other than myself). So he unlocked it. And he also felt it prudent to tell the building manager that I had found out that it had locked itself again and could he please get that fixed. And told the building manager how I found out: "Shana walked into the door." Gee thanks for sharing that with him.

Now the building manager is worried about my ability to walk around the library without hurting myself. And feels the need to remind me that I'm a dork every time he sees me by asking me if I've walked into anything else recently or if I've fallen off my bike (which hasn't happened, by the way). Um, no. I'm not normally a klutz...only when there are witnesses. Really, I'm OK...mostly. Just my pride is wounded...just my pride. And I have very precious little pride left to wound.