Friday, March 25, 2011

Tell The Boss You're Off On Fridays. Because I Said So.



(post copyright 2011, Dawn Weber)

It's Friday. So sorry - but I'm closed.

In fact, by the power wasted on me, I hereby declare Fridays off. For everyone. From this day forward.

I can almost see your smiles, hear your sighs of relief at this wonderful news. Really, it was no bother for me to grant you a four-day workweek. I know, I know - you want to hug me. Just send cash.

My decision to give us all a reduced schedule is based on extensive research, with the following very scientific findings:

A. I am tired, and...
B. I need a nap since...
C. all I do is work and...
D. lots of folks tell me they feel the same way.

Want to know why?

For the most part - I think Americans work too much. We also work too damn hard. Do the math: Five of the seven days in a week, we use up HALF (or more) of our waking hours at jobs. HALF! Or More!

Somebody get me a Xanax.

Seriously, though - teachers spend more days with my kids than I do, and I spend much more time with my co-workers than my family.

I know that, for many decades, this is the way things have been. But please - tell me the name of the person responsible for deciding that we MUST work five days, 40 hours a week to earn benefits and a decent wage. If he's still around, send him my way - because I'd really like to kick him. Directly in the ass.

I do have some good news related to my decision to change your hours: There is some trending towards an altered schedule. Utah state employees - along with many American businesses - have adopted the four-ten hour work-week with great, money-saving results.

I found the following info on the Internet (therefore it must be true). Many four-day work-week supporters say such a schedule:
  • Increases employee productivity
  • Increases time spent with family
  • Increases employee happiness

Yeah. But can't you just hear The Man?: "Employee happiness? Ha! Who cares about that?"

True, in this employers’ market, increasing workers’ morale doesn’t usually rank as a priority. Today's business motto? “Shut Up and Work - You're Lucky to Have a Job.”

So how about these assertions from the same site, which state that four-day work-weeks:
  • Reduce labor costs for businesses
  • Reduce operational costs for businesses, in the form of decreased security, energy and utility expenses
  • Reduce employee absenteeism
  • Increase productivity

Put that in your pipe and smoke it, Boss.

Anyway, screw him. I've decided I am your supervisor today, hence my decision to give all of us another day off. Because, simply put, if no one worked on Fridays, then no one else would have to work on Fridays. Word.

Stores could close. Offices could close. Banks could close. We could all stay home and spend more time with our loved ones. What a concept.

Imagine the savings! Imagine the reduced stress! Imagine the lack of dummies on the road traffic!

For the love of all that’s holy, people. Imagine the NAPS!

Friday, March 18, 2011

This One Time? At School? A Teacher Tried To Kill Me With A Book


(post copyright 2011, Dawn Weber. Note: Names have been changed to protect the guilty innocent.)

The teacher had no idea how I ended up in advanced English. She said I had the penmanship of a mentally challenged first-grader.

"It really is amazing," Mrs. Emm told me, many times. "You sure don't have the handwriting of a smart person."

But that wasn't the reason she threw a book at my head.

Ah...the 80s: when a kid could be a kid and a teacher could throw stuff at a kid.

She had every reason to hurl things at me. I'd known about the term paper for nine weeks. It was a huge, multi-paged headache chunk of our passing grade, our ticket out of high school and into college.

And when did I choose to start this important work?

The day before.

It wasn't that I didn't want to write it - I just had more important things to do. Such as drive around town in my Ford Ranger. Pursue my budding McDonald's career. Also, attend parties.

I found myself skipping school the morning before the paper's due date, to stay home and get it done. Truancy, procrastination, sloppiness, all with a Guns 'n Roses soundtrack. That's how I rolled then to the best of my recollection...

But I wasn't a very good felon, because when I sat down to scribble out my paper, I realized I'd forgotten all the needed notes in my locker. Conveniently located directly outside Mrs. Emm's door.

Delinquency: not my strong suit.

Note to 1987 self: Hey Dummy. When skipping school to catch up on homework, remember to take necessary books and papers with you the day before.

So before I could frantically write the term paper "stay home sick," I had to drive my sorry ass to the school. I parked and snuck in, past Mrs. Emm's open classroom door to my locker. Gathered the needed notes, quietly shut the metal door and...

Me: *Sneak...creep...slink...*
Mrs. Emm: "I SEE you out there!"
Me: "Oh....hi Mrs. Emm! How are you?"
Mrs. Emm: "How are YOU? I thought you were home SICK today?"
Me: "Yeah...uhhhh...but I forgot something and had to get it."
Mrs. Emm: "Dawn, do you have your term paper done?"
Me: "Yeah, um, not just yet."
Mrs. Emm: "Dawn. When did you START your term paper?"
Me: "Ummm...today?"

*cue Crazy Teacher Eyes.*

All five feet of her body tensed. She pivoted and balanced, flung her arm back, then pitched her extra-heavy! teacher's manual forward. Toward my thick teen-aged skull.

Wow. She had one hell of an arm on her. If I hadn't ducked, I'd probably now be drooling in the nursing home.

Me *tiny voice*: "Mrs. Emm?"

Mrs. Emm: "You've known about this the ENTIRE nine weeks! You just started today?"

*More Crazy Teacher Eyes.* *Walking towards me...*

Well. Clearly it was time for me to get back home to the business of truancy. Right away.

I ran out of the school and drove to the house. Ploughed through an all-nighter and finished the paper, ending up in ample trouble with my Mom and the principal for skipping school. I think I received a very generous, probably undeserved "C" for the piece.

Mrs. Emm felt terrible for her book-hurl. As I recall, she apologized to both my Mom and I.

She didn't have to, because I learned a valuable nearly fatal lesson. I never procrastinated again. My work is ALWAYS on-time, and sometimes even legible if it's typed.

To this very day, when I consider putting off a project, I see flying books.

And *Crazy Teacher Eyes.*



Note: Ms. Blase over at The Unpopular Girl in Womanhood has given me my very first award, the Versatile Blogger Award.

Thank you, Ms. Blase! Check out her awesome blog here. The rules for this award are:

- Thank the person who gave you the award
- Share 7 things about yourself
- Pass the award to up to 10 versatile bloggers

- Let those bloggers know that you gave them the awardAlrighty then! Here we go:

I am afraid of these things, all of which have already happened (in some degree) to me.
  • being in a car accident with a semi.
  • being in a car accident on a bridge, plummeting into water.
  • strangers breaking into my home in the middle of the night.

-Although I drive my sorry ass into the city every day, I secretly wish I was I was a farmer. Because I love animals, the outdoors, and I REALLY love tractors. Don't judge.
-I am OCD-weird about recycling, and feel terrible when I throw out something recyclable.
- I can: play piano, make stained glass windows, pencil-draw, make mosaics, make jewelry, take some pretty good photographs ;).
-I can't (but wish I could): play electric guitar, sing, paint with oils and/or acrylics, sculpt


I hereby award the Versatile Blogger Award to:
















Thursday, March 10, 2011

Naked Blogging


Obviously, I need to do more Naked Blogging.

Jeez-Louise, people! During my last post - concerning the very vital, very riveting topic of Nude People Dancing - I received 7 new followers and 28 comments.

I'm bad - I'm nationwide, yo! In my own mind, for two days tops...

Yep - sex still sells. Actually, I should have known the last piece would rank high - Blogger stats say that my most-read post until now was "They Are Not Hooker Shoes!"

Apparently all I have to do to gain readership, and maybe someday possibly almost make a buck from my writing, is talk about something racy or tack on the word “naked.”

This, and a recent post by my friend Audubon Ron at Ducks Mahal, reminds me of the old fortune cookie game, in which you take the little paper predictions and attach the phrase "in bed" or "between the sheets." I.E. "You will have a memorable evening...in bed."

Maybe I should really run with it. Become the Naked Blogger in bed. Although the husband's not a fan of stripped strangers, he's appreciative of my nudity, and I'm sure this would be a big hit with him. Me, sitting around, laptop-on-ample-gut, buck nude and pecking away between the sheets.

This would, of course, mean that you all have to become my Naked Followers. You’d like that, woudn’t you? Haha. That’s because ya'all are a bunch of pervs like me between the sheets. I love it! naked in bed.

But as a mom, I could never completely pimp my blog with nudity. After all, everyone knows mothers never think of sex. I have two kids who can’t stomach their parents kissing, let alone (gasp!) anything else. No, these two hope that they appeared on this earth by magic, brought here via immaculate conception. Or maybe little pink bunnies in bed.

The children would not appreciate the visuals of me as a Naked Blogger, either. They get ill when I remove a bra under my shirt - highly offended and repulsed, apparently, by the fact that women have nipples.

So don't worry. My new-found very temporary popularity will not go to my head, I promise. I will keep my clothes on, much to my children's relief, and continue to explore such vital issues as cats on cars, the tooth fairy, endlessly awful Ohio weather, and Dairy Queen Blizzards in bed.

You're welcome between the sheets.