Vague communication is the downfall of any relationship. When you are giving instructions, please please please be clear. When you are describing something, please be clear. Now, I'm not saying you need to be poetic about it, but you at least need to get the person from point A to point B without missing steps in between.
I love it when a supervisor or teacher gives an assignment and doesn't tell you the steps to complete it. I don't need to know every little detail, but when you expect me to complete an assignment, but don't give me the information I need to do so, you are not a kind person.
A few weeks ago, one of my professors needed us to get together with classmates via an online group video chat system. We were told to use the links provided in order to use this software. We were not told who our group members were, nor where the "provided links" were actually provided. Turns out, that information was buried deep inside another set of folders. It would have taken my professor ten seconds to type out where that information could be found, but instead I took an hour and a half to dig for it. This is bad communication, and I suffered for it.
Another form of vague communication is what my mother deems "Get-Me-a-Rock Syndrome." To explain this, I'll put it in context. You work in a rock quarry. Your boss tells you to go out and get him a rock. So, you go out, pick up the first rock you see, and bring it to him. He then informs you the rock he needs has to be bigger. You go out again and retrieve a larger rock. He tells you this one is too big. After several more times, you finally obtain the correct size rock, only to be informed that the desired rock must be red. After finding a rock with that description, he once again defines the parameters to include blue speckles and a white band.
See what I'm getting at here? 30 rocks later, he still doesn't have what he wants and it is somehow your fault for not bringing the correct rock. You both are pissed, he's about to fire you, and you are about to bash his face in for wasting your time.
People need to just open their mouths and actually give clear directions that can be understood. Those listening also need to have the balls to ask a question if they don't understand any part of the instructions. This will keep so much hassle from happening, and in the end, everyone will be happier!
Tuesday, October 15, 2013
Accounting
I hate accounting.
I hate it with a passion that burn brighter than the fiery pits of Hell combined with the righteous indignant fury of the Hosts of Heaven.
I've taken the same stupid accounting class for my university classes hmmm... lets see... oh just THREE TIMES! I hate this class with every fiber of my being. I can't stand not being able to get the concepts, and there is nobody in the world who is able to explain it to me in a way I understand (with the exception of one, who is a Godsend, and may actually be able to pull my butt through this class). Before I found this guy, though, I'd been through everything I could think of to get my brain to wrap itself around the concepts put forth by my professors.
There is an accounting lab on campus, which is supposed to specialize in tutoring morons like me in a way that is understandable. I think "Great! That will allow me to get some help and get the accounting juices flowing!" Not wanting to look like a total doofus, I make sure that I have read the book, looked over the homework, and come with a list of specific questions to ask the tutors there, so I can walk out of there feeling confident that I can last one more day in this nightmare of a class. I finally get the attention of one of the tutors, and he comes over, sits down next to me, and says (Verbatim) "Well, everything is in the book. Why don't you read the book and see if that helps."
Like I haven't already thought of that.
You idiot! I came to you because I've exhausted all the other options I can think of. Don't tell me to just read the book and all will magically become clear! I've done that. Now answer the questions that I've brought to you AFTER having read the book.
By the time I come out of my shock of him having said this, however, he has already stood up and moved on to help another struggling student. I never got help from there. I'd like to say this was a one time occurance, too. Unfortunately, this proved to be the rule, rather than the exception, when it came to the amount of help I recieved from that disgrace of a tutoring center.
I hate accounting.
I hate it with a passion that burn brighter than the fiery pits of Hell combined with the righteous indignant fury of the Hosts of Heaven.
I've taken the same stupid accounting class for my university classes hmmm... lets see... oh just THREE TIMES! I hate this class with every fiber of my being. I can't stand not being able to get the concepts, and there is nobody in the world who is able to explain it to me in a way I understand (with the exception of one, who is a Godsend, and may actually be able to pull my butt through this class). Before I found this guy, though, I'd been through everything I could think of to get my brain to wrap itself around the concepts put forth by my professors.
There is an accounting lab on campus, which is supposed to specialize in tutoring morons like me in a way that is understandable. I think "Great! That will allow me to get some help and get the accounting juices flowing!" Not wanting to look like a total doofus, I make sure that I have read the book, looked over the homework, and come with a list of specific questions to ask the tutors there, so I can walk out of there feeling confident that I can last one more day in this nightmare of a class. I finally get the attention of one of the tutors, and he comes over, sits down next to me, and says (Verbatim) "Well, everything is in the book. Why don't you read the book and see if that helps."
Like I haven't already thought of that.
You idiot! I came to you because I've exhausted all the other options I can think of. Don't tell me to just read the book and all will magically become clear! I've done that. Now answer the questions that I've brought to you AFTER having read the book.
By the time I come out of my shock of him having said this, however, he has already stood up and moved on to help another struggling student. I never got help from there. I'd like to say this was a one time occurance, too. Unfortunately, this proved to be the rule, rather than the exception, when it came to the amount of help I recieved from that disgrace of a tutoring center.
I hate accounting.
Saturday, September 7, 2013
My cupholder
I love my car. Love it! I love everything about it. It's very versatile (go hatchbacks!) and it gets great gas mileage. lots of little accessories in it that make driving it a pleasure.
Between the two front seats are two cup holders. One sits in front of the other, and the one in the back sits just a little bit higher than the other. The one in back is perfect for pretty much everything. Soda cans, water bottles, fast food cups, again, everything can fit in this cup holder.
The partner cup holder does not perform the same job with the same vigor and excellence, however, and it is very upsetting. For whatever reason, it is just a little bit smaller than the other one. It won't hold a soda can, and it's too close to the rear cup holder to allow anything with a lid to sit in it without the lid popping off. About the only thing that will actually fit in this cup holder is a standard 16.9 oz water bottle.
I'd like to know why on earth the designers of this otherwise wonderful car would put in cup holders of differing sizes? It seems like a completely idiotic thing to think of, let alone actually put into practice. I mean, who on earth designs something with two separate size cup holders? I get the idea that some beverage containers are different sizes, but there are many ways to make a larger cup holder work with smaller objects, but there are no ways to make a smaller cup holder fit larger cups.
Between the two front seats are two cup holders. One sits in front of the other, and the one in the back sits just a little bit higher than the other. The one in back is perfect for pretty much everything. Soda cans, water bottles, fast food cups, again, everything can fit in this cup holder.
The partner cup holder does not perform the same job with the same vigor and excellence, however, and it is very upsetting. For whatever reason, it is just a little bit smaller than the other one. It won't hold a soda can, and it's too close to the rear cup holder to allow anything with a lid to sit in it without the lid popping off. About the only thing that will actually fit in this cup holder is a standard 16.9 oz water bottle.
I'd like to know why on earth the designers of this otherwise wonderful car would put in cup holders of differing sizes? It seems like a completely idiotic thing to think of, let alone actually put into practice. I mean, who on earth designs something with two separate size cup holders? I get the idea that some beverage containers are different sizes, but there are many ways to make a larger cup holder work with smaller objects, but there are no ways to make a smaller cup holder fit larger cups.
Tuesday, August 20, 2013
Really, Kid?
Here is a current event for you!
My son, who is two, is extremely smart. He grasps concepts quickly, he is helpful, cheerful, and overall a great little kid. I could compare him to your kids, but I'm pretty sure it would end up in an argument, and eventually, you would see reason and begrudgingly accept that my son is pretty much the greatest kid around.
Today, however...
In the basement, I have a little mini office set up. It allows me a space to work on my homework (and my blarg) in relative peace and quiet. So today, as I'm studying, I hear this drip drip dripping noise. I go to investigate. No signs of dripping. The faucets are all off, the toilet isn't leaking, etc. so I go back to my homework.
The dripping continues
and continues
and, well you get the picture. So I go to investigate again. I look around a little further, and in the storage area, I notice a puddle on the ground. Upon further inspection, I realize there is water dripping down the walls! Holy Smoke! So, I get on a chair, look around, but can't find the source of the dripping. So I go upstairs. The bathroom right above me is totally dry. No dripping, no water running, nothing. But in the closet right next to that bathroom, I can hear dripping. So I think "What on earth upstairs can be... OH NO!!!"
I sprint up the stairs and slam open my sons room. He has the sink on. Normally, not a bad thing in and of itself. The problem is, he has deposited some toilet paper in the sink, which clogged it. The TP then clogged the emergency drain in the front of the sink. The sink then overflowed. The bathroom rugs got to sop up a lot of the water, but they were not enough to handle it. So, where can the water go?
Down the AC vent!
Apparently, the water drained down the vent, and when it got the bottom of the vent, leaked into the ceiling of the basement, and onto the floor. The carpet in several places is soaked, and the restoration guys say that there is water in the ceiling and some of the walls. Great. That's a boatload of money I wasn't planning on spending. Sigh.
Two-year-olds... It's a good thing he's cute.
My son, who is two, is extremely smart. He grasps concepts quickly, he is helpful, cheerful, and overall a great little kid. I could compare him to your kids, but I'm pretty sure it would end up in an argument, and eventually, you would see reason and begrudgingly accept that my son is pretty much the greatest kid around.
Today, however...
In the basement, I have a little mini office set up. It allows me a space to work on my homework (and my blarg) in relative peace and quiet. So today, as I'm studying, I hear this drip drip dripping noise. I go to investigate. No signs of dripping. The faucets are all off, the toilet isn't leaking, etc. so I go back to my homework.
The dripping continues
and continues
and, well you get the picture. So I go to investigate again. I look around a little further, and in the storage area, I notice a puddle on the ground. Upon further inspection, I realize there is water dripping down the walls! Holy Smoke! So, I get on a chair, look around, but can't find the source of the dripping. So I go upstairs. The bathroom right above me is totally dry. No dripping, no water running, nothing. But in the closet right next to that bathroom, I can hear dripping. So I think "What on earth upstairs can be... OH NO!!!"
I sprint up the stairs and slam open my sons room. He has the sink on. Normally, not a bad thing in and of itself. The problem is, he has deposited some toilet paper in the sink, which clogged it. The TP then clogged the emergency drain in the front of the sink. The sink then overflowed. The bathroom rugs got to sop up a lot of the water, but they were not enough to handle it. So, where can the water go?
Down the AC vent!
Apparently, the water drained down the vent, and when it got the bottom of the vent, leaked into the ceiling of the basement, and onto the floor. The carpet in several places is soaked, and the restoration guys say that there is water in the ceiling and some of the walls. Great. That's a boatload of money I wasn't planning on spending. Sigh.
Two-year-olds... It's a good thing he's cute.
Wednesday, August 14, 2013
Counting Dimes
So, I have big hands.
You know what that means!
Yes, it means I have trouble dealing with really small objects.
Like dimes.
I hate counting dimes. Specifically dimes. I don't hate counting all coins, it really is just dimes. Part of my job is to count the money in the registers, make sure there is a certain amount of money in them at the start and the end of the day. Paper money is a cinch, quarters and nickles, no problem. Pennies... ok, so pennies are a little tough, but dimes are so small I have trouble counting them one by one back into the drawer. Inevitably, I drop one or two extra into the slot, and I have to start counting dimes all over again. It's really annoying!
Also, I lose track counting dimes easily. I never lose track with any of the other change, just dimes. I start to count by cents (10,20,30,40...90,1 dollar) but then I lose track of how many dollars I have counted out (crap, have I already counted 2 dollars? or was it 3? dang...) When you have 20 different registers to count, it gets really aggravating to have to start over on almost every one.
It's so bad, when I see only 2 or 3 dimes in a register, I rejoice! I am so happy that I can just eye it, and I don't have to worry about starting over 38 dimes in.
Do other people have this animosity towards dimes? Probably not... my guess is that nickles or pennies are probably the victims of most change hate crimes
You know what that means!
Yes, it means I have trouble dealing with really small objects.
Like dimes.
I hate counting dimes. Specifically dimes. I don't hate counting all coins, it really is just dimes. Part of my job is to count the money in the registers, make sure there is a certain amount of money in them at the start and the end of the day. Paper money is a cinch, quarters and nickles, no problem. Pennies... ok, so pennies are a little tough, but dimes are so small I have trouble counting them one by one back into the drawer. Inevitably, I drop one or two extra into the slot, and I have to start counting dimes all over again. It's really annoying!
Also, I lose track counting dimes easily. I never lose track with any of the other change, just dimes. I start to count by cents (10,20,30,40...90,1 dollar) but then I lose track of how many dollars I have counted out (crap, have I already counted 2 dollars? or was it 3? dang...) When you have 20 different registers to count, it gets really aggravating to have to start over on almost every one.
It's so bad, when I see only 2 or 3 dimes in a register, I rejoice! I am so happy that I can just eye it, and I don't have to worry about starting over 38 dimes in.
Do other people have this animosity towards dimes? Probably not... my guess is that nickles or pennies are probably the victims of most change hate crimes
Monday, August 12, 2013
Cake
Ok, so I grew up with my mom's cake. It is amazing cake. My personal favorite is a devils food cake that is quite heavy, but so moist and rich that it makes me drool just thinking about it. Now, on this cake, there was frosting. My mom had this really nice cream cheese frosting that she would put on the cake, and it was very sweet and rich, and also a little weighty itself. It had substance. Then, the frosting would mingle with the air, and just the outermost layer of the frosting, just half a millimeter's worth, would get just a little hard and crusty, and...mmmmmmmmm. It's a party in my mouth and more cake is invited! Oh, and milk...
Then...
There are store cakes. I will grant that not every cake is this way, but for the most part, when you buy a cake at the store, it's very light and airy. I know a lot of people like this kind of cake, but I feel like I'm not getting anything except a mouth full of vanilla air. It's gross. It cuts too easily, it's dry, and and I feel like I need a slice five times as large as usual to satisfy my craving.
And the frosting is awful.
It's like semi-liquid cotton candy. It's way too light, there's too much air, and I feel like a single tablespoon could put me in a diabetic coma. If I get one of those stupid frosting roses on my piece, I scrape it off. Too much air, too much food coloring, not enough frosting! I ordered cake, not air! If you can blow the icing off the top of your slice of cake (which I have done), then it's too light. I want substance!
Also, if you can TASTE the food coloring in your icing, you've used too much color. Blech!
Cake should not be trifled with. Unless, of course, you are cubing it and putting it in a trifle... hmmmmm
Then...
There are store cakes. I will grant that not every cake is this way, but for the most part, when you buy a cake at the store, it's very light and airy. I know a lot of people like this kind of cake, but I feel like I'm not getting anything except a mouth full of vanilla air. It's gross. It cuts too easily, it's dry, and and I feel like I need a slice five times as large as usual to satisfy my craving.
And the frosting is awful.
It's like semi-liquid cotton candy. It's way too light, there's too much air, and I feel like a single tablespoon could put me in a diabetic coma. If I get one of those stupid frosting roses on my piece, I scrape it off. Too much air, too much food coloring, not enough frosting! I ordered cake, not air! If you can blow the icing off the top of your slice of cake (which I have done), then it's too light. I want substance!
Also, if you can TASTE the food coloring in your icing, you've used too much color. Blech!
Cake should not be trifled with. Unless, of course, you are cubing it and putting it in a trifle... hmmmmm
Nothing
So, here's something ironic. I'm blarging about not having anything to blarg about!
It's actually quite frustrating. Here I am, living my life, which is pretty dang good. But I write a blog of complaints. My life is so good, I have nothing to complain about. Even the little stuff hasn't bothered me enough to consider actually writing something about it. How great is that? Great for life, not so good for my readers (you know who you are!)
I was actually thinking about it this morning while at work. I was intentionally trying to come up with things to blarg about, and I was having a tough time. The best I could think of was counting dimes. (more to come, I guess).
What am I supposed to tell my fans? The thronging masses need my literary work, and I'm depriving them of it because I'm too happy! Man, I'm a jerk
Ooh! I just thought of something! I'll put it up as soon as I finish it!
In the meantime, please, if you have any ideas on topics, or a mildly depressing story you want to share, please email me at thisismyblarg@gmail.com. I would love to look over your material and add it to my menagerie of mayhem!
It's actually quite frustrating. Here I am, living my life, which is pretty dang good. But I write a blog of complaints. My life is so good, I have nothing to complain about. Even the little stuff hasn't bothered me enough to consider actually writing something about it. How great is that? Great for life, not so good for my readers (you know who you are!)
I was actually thinking about it this morning while at work. I was intentionally trying to come up with things to blarg about, and I was having a tough time. The best I could think of was counting dimes. (more to come, I guess).
What am I supposed to tell my fans? The thronging masses need my literary work, and I'm depriving them of it because I'm too happy! Man, I'm a jerk
Ooh! I just thought of something! I'll put it up as soon as I finish it!
In the meantime, please, if you have any ideas on topics, or a mildly depressing story you want to share, please email me at thisismyblarg@gmail.com. I would love to look over your material and add it to my menagerie of mayhem!
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