Huts, Triage and Embracing My Inner Dork

It's really Friday.. right? It's not a dream? AND I'm getting off an hour early from my already early punch out time?

The Asylum has certainly earned it's nickname this week. Sales are up (ever so slightly) but hours are still reduced, making for an interesting day. I've had to revive my EMT triage skills when dealing with customers, learning to categorize by level of importance, then trying like hell to make sure no potential new accounts or orders bleed out in the process.

Who would have thought disaster training would come in handy at the office?


I've been thinking lately about tribal menstrual huts. They ("they" being the unseen, unnamed all knowing authority on everything in the world) make it sound like women were banished to these huts, just outside the village while they dealt with their womanly... demons.. possession.. whatever. After a few days of pondering this practice (because you just never know what the hell kinda weird shit I may be pondering at any given moment) I've come to the conclusion that it was actually the women's idea.

I won't elaborate further.

Moving on...

I've been spending a lot of time doing the social networking thing. I seem to go in spurts, flitting from Plurk to Twitter to Facebook like a desperate and lonely geek little butterfly. I use Plurk to chat with friends and say hi, it's definitely more conversational than the other two. I check Facebook a couple of times a day, leaving a comment here and there but I've sworn off those little personality tests. They keep telling me I'm a man. I don't know why.. but it's giving me a complex.

As for Twitter? I've been "tweeting" since it was so new you could see your own post show up on the "Everyone" page.. but it's never taken off for me. It's like high school all over again. I'm the dweeby social ninny, trying desperately to fit in with the "cool kids." So now? I've started following a bunch of celebrity tweeters... I'm still ignored, but at least it seems justified and I crack myself up with my witty repartee.

That's right, I'm like the little round kid in the corner of the play ground, making up my own games to amuse myself. Please don't throw rocks.

I reckon it's time for this dorky kid to put my toys away and get down to business. We'll talk more this weekend. Ya'll have a good one!

Later Taters!