There’s a page of contact numbers in the back office at work in case we need to get hold of someone to cover a shift or something. I’ve had a few calls/texts from co-workers, usually about where something is. (I’m the organizer who knows where everything is.) It’s very rare, though.
Of course. We often work from home. That’s the only way to call one another when we’re working from home. E-mail is more common, though.
Since I started working from home my cell phone number is in my email profile and thus available to the entire company. As well, my extension at the office is forwarded to it. Even with this our techies require direct permission before they use it after hours. Mostly I appreciate it but occasionally situations have escalated while they’re being polite.
It’s a fairly new availability for our company so I expect that as it becomes more commonplace it will be used more often.
Grrrrr.
Damnit, Wrangler, why did you have to get a leak in your water pump right now? I was going to leave for Tennessee tonight. Now I have to wait and see how much it’s gonna cost to fix you. My concert tickets are already paid for, thank goodness, but there goes the hope of another concert t-shirt to add to the collection.
Well, if you had to go, thanks for going before we left home.
The rejection I’m encountering as an actor is beginning to overwhelm my thick skin.
Theres a very annoying way to discover that one has a minor allergy to latex.
I’m going to guess condoms were involved.
Ha. I got some satisfaction in barking at my neighbor’s dogs when I took the trash out last night. Although I did pet the older, nicer dog.
Bow wow wow! Move away now! 
Scene from the kitchen a few minutes ago:
ME: noticing the block of cheese I bought fucking yesterday and haven’t touched yet is already half gone Um…pretty much all I eat is grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup right now, so please don’t eat my cheese.
ASSHOLE MOOCH ROOMMATE: Oh. Okay.
ME: Seriously. I needed this cheese to last me until next week and I’ve already been to the store this week.
AMR: Okay.
Dude. Would a fucking *apology *be too much for you? Really? Oh, and this is after I told him I needed the money for the cable bill. His response: “I already took care of that.” No, dipshit that was last month’s bill. This is for this month. May. It’s due in June because that’s how bills work. His response: “I’ll see what the money looks like tomorrow and I’ll let you know.”
I’m moving out Sunday. I’m open for suggestions for revenge. I’m already stealing three toilet paper rolls from their bathroom to cover the ones they stole from me by using my bathroom all the time.
I had a student (let’s call him “Kyle” because that’s his real name) whose mother would call him. Every Tuesday morning. In the middle of class. A college class.
He’d peek at it, roll his eyes, say “Mom…” so one day, I answered it.
“Hi! It’s Digs, how are you? … I’m a teacher. Kyle’s teacher … Yeah, sorry, he can’t talk. He’s got a class from 8 to 11:30 every Tuesday and Thursday. Oh, no problem. Knowing Kyle, he was just too polite to tell his mom not to call him … Oh, he’s doing great. But he looks a little embarrassed right now … Yeah, good kid … That’s right, 8 to 11:30 … Tuesday and Thursday. Oh, thanks – you have a good day, too!”
Well, I just lost my fucking job.
I couldn’t even tell you if I quit or got fired. It all happened so quickly.
Yeah, not a happy way to learn that one, is it.
Not quite as bad as learning the lesson of not crushing extremely hot dried peppers by hand and then using the restroom… :eek:
I’m sorry, olives. That place sounded pretty hellish. Come back and tell us about it when you’ve processed what the bloody hell just happened.
You rock, digs. 
I’m sorry olives.
He did it again! Well, an hour later than yesterday. Dude, I didn’t call you back yesterday until about 6. Why would you think I was going to pick up the phone?
Don’t just take the rolls. Take the part of the toilet paper holder that the rolls hang from.
Then, assuming the bathroom has any kind of fixture with drawers (mine does, many don’t) go buy the cheapest possible can of fish cat food, open it up, pull out the bottom drawer and put it underneath it toward the front. (The old hidden dead fish gag, modern life version) If the bathroom doesn’t have drawers, does the light fixture over the sink have any kind of top where the can might be placed and not seen?
It is a busy intersection. And traffic is backed up in all directions…because of YOU!!!
It would help greatly if you, I don’t know…walked like you had a purpose. No need to run, or even hurry for that matter…but have purpose. Getting from one side to the other. The intersection is not for a pleasant stroll, or to stop and look around, or stop and have a fucking conversation. And please be mindful of the traffic signs. They are clearly marked and her in the SFV you even get a helpful counter that lets you know how much time you have before the ‘don’t walk’ sign comes on.
So when the ‘don’t walk’ sign comes on…stay the fuck on the curb!!! And if you disregard this, then have the decency to hurry.
Just ONCE, I would like to have dashboard-mounted machine guns. :mad:
Been there… ouch. Hives where I really didn’t want them.
That really sucks, olives. Hope something better comes along soon.
Oh my FREAKING GOD!!!
This can’t be legal…How long does that kid have to THONGDT! THONGDT!THONGDT! THONGDT!THONGDT! THONGDT!THONGDT! THONGDT!THONGDT! THONGDT!THONGDT! THONGDT!THONGDT! THONGDT!THONGDT! THONGDT!THONGDT! THONGDT!THONGDT! THONGDT!THONGDT! THONGDT!THONGDT! THONGDT!THONGDT! THONGDT!THONGDT! THONGDT!THONGDT! THONGDT!THONGDT! THONGDT!THONGDT!THONGDT!THONGDT!THONGDT! that stupid basketball???
It’s been going on for two hours now.
It’s not as if he’s throwing baskets or practicing any sort of basketball-y moves or anything (I don’t even think the apt building next door has a basket), he’s just THONGDTING the stupid thing in the parking lot, over and OVER AND OVER AND OVER again. I don’t know if this falls into the noise ordinance, but…GOOD GOD! help me…
sighhhhhhh, sorry, just had to vent, sorry it wasn’t very clever, or filled with lovely and creative profanity.
Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr…I wish I were a good marksman, with a bb gun, I’d take care of that damned basketball.
Oh sweetie I’m so sorry.
My idiot employer asked for extra time on one project this week and then didn’t bother to tell us there would be no extra work. Why do we seem to have an economy where most of us are supposed to be not only peons but cheerful, on calll with no pay peons?