Friday, August 31, 2018

SICK SICK SICK

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

In this post I whined and complained     bitched and moaned mentioned that I've been sick quite a few times since I started The Job.

For a while now, I've had a urinary tract infection that won't go away. My doctor finally narrowed down the problem this week: it's one of those creepy bacteria things that's hard to kill because it's resistant to most medications.

I've had two shots in my bottom (one for each cheek so they're equally sore), and I'm taking gigantic pills.

In that post, I also wrote about callers who think that I'm an automated system. Last week a woman yelled at me––she didn't know she was yelling at ME––because she thought I wasn't a person. She shouted, I jut want to talk to a real person and not this robot. 

I assure you, ma'am, said I, that I am a real person.

She apologized and explained that she thought I was the automated system. Recently, I had a reason to call our company's automated system. I listened to the voice of the woman and thought, I DO sound a bit like her––not robotic, but the sound of our voices is similar, along with the way that we pronounce words.

I wonder if she knows the difference between who and whom. If not, I'll have to educate her.


Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug


I saw a woman at Target with a Yorkie in her shopping cart. I assure you that Franklin and Penelope would not tolerate sitting in a cart. They'd run to the steaks and rip open all the packages.

Wednesday, August 29, 2018

I SHOULD HAVE WRITTEN TO YOU ON SUNDAY

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Here I am, finally checking out the blogosphere, and I found an email from fishducky, who was worried about me because I live in Jacksonville, Florida.

I found out we'd had a mass shooting on Sunday when I received a text message from my oldest sister that said "Hope you weren't at Jacksonville Landing today." I had no idea what was going on. I turned on the TV and whoopie! we'd made MSNBC because a guy at a gaming tournament shot and killed two people, shot and wounded nine others, and then killed himself.


I usually spend Sundays with the Wooters man, but on this particular afternoon, I had shopping to do. I've been to the Landing on the St. John's River a total of once, I think in 2009.

I emailed Willy Dunne Wooters and said

Oh Willy boy. I'm so glad I know you aren't the kind of person who would go to a gaming tournament at the landing.

He replied:

These kids grew up playing shooting games and listening to NRA telling them how cool it is to carry around semi-automatic guns with laser sights. What could go wrong?

Of course, the shooting didn't happen because a particular kind of person goes to gaming tournaments. It could have occurred just as easily at the Target where I browsed.

We walk in danger. We sleep in danger. We also walk and sleep in safety most of the time. We could be even safer if we ever have a president, senators, and representatives who don't kowtow to the NRA.

STOP SUPPORTING THE NRA. DON'T GIVE THEM MONEY. DON'T TAKE THEIR MONEY.

IF that ever happens, then maybe, just maybe, I'll never see my city on the news again––except when we have a hurricane, or maybe because something good happens here because miracles happen every day.


Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug


Friday, August 17, 2018

THE LATEST PALMETTO BUG STORY

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Fortunately, I don't get palmetto bugs in the house very often. However, last week I had a strange encounter with one of the nasty "sewer roaches."

The dogs and I got up one morning to find a palmetto bug that wasn't moving in the hall outside my bedroom door. Penelope headed toward it to check it out. I said "no" because I was afraid she'd eat it.

After I let the dogs out, I went back to get rid of the deceased palmetto. I took a big wad of toilet paper and picked him up to flush him down the toilet.

Suddenly he wiggled, flew out of the toilet paper (I wasn't holding it very tightly), and flew into the hall bathroom toilet to try out his back crawl. I hurried to flush him away.

He surprised me! He'll probably make his way through the sewer system to terrorize someone else.

I'm sure many of you join me to grieve the loss of Aretha Franklin. We saw her once. We went to the inaugural celebration for Bill Clinton (first time he was elected). Ms. Franklin was one of the performers. The crowd was so large and we were so far back that it was difficult to see Michael Jackson and LL Cool J, among others.

But I could see Aretha Franklin off in the distance. She wore a gigantic fur coat and stood out in so many ways.


Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug



Thursday, August 9, 2018

A MONTH GOES BY SO QUICKLY

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

I can't believe it's been more than a month since I've blogged.

I've been ill more often since I started working. I suppose it's all the exposure to other people and the environment, which is not too clean. The restrooms are cleaned during the day, but by evening they're pretty nasty. I wash my hands thoroughly, of course. When everything is kinda dirty, washing only does so much good.

The people who clean come around with those dusting thingies on long poles. They dust the top of the area around the desks, which serves to push the dirt onto the desks. I keep paper towels and a cleaning product in my desk drawer so I can give my desk regular cleanings. Although I have my "own" work area, I know other people use it when I'm not there. Heaven only knows what illnesses they leave on my keyboard.

One time I returned to work to find that someone had left used napkins in my top drawer!

I swear that place was cleaner when I started working there, not so very long ago. I'm certain that the bathrooms were cleaned more frequently. However, the people who use the bathrooms are a problem, too. I'm shocked by the number of people who can't be bothered to flush the toilet and who throw trash on the bathroom floor. What the hell?????

This evening I stopped at my favorite Mexican restaurant for a quick and inexpensive meal. I met a new server named Anaia, or maybe it's spelled Anaya. I'll have to ask her. She's from Colombia and has only been in the U.S. for four months.

Her English is good, but she said she needs to learn more words. I tried to use my limited Spanish to explain that one word can have multiple meanings and the meanings can vary based on the part of the country in which one lives.

I used "buggy" as an example. In the South, a buggy is a shopping cart. Then there's the baby buggy, which we don't see too often because it's been replaced by the stroller. Someone who is described as buggy might be considered loco. And if you have lots of cucarachas, your home is buggy.

One kind of strange thing has been happening at work when I take phone calls. I've been asked multiple times if I'm "real." Some people seem to think that I sound like an automated system. I'm taking it as a compliment because the first person who said it told me he asked because my voice is so perfect.

My co-workers confirmed that I pronounce words precisely and clearly. I guess it's a habit left from my days as a debater.

I leave you for now. I'll try not to let another month go by before I blog again.


Infinities of love,

The Real Janie Junebug