Tuesday, May 12, 2009

New Office - Old Bathroom

So, my company moved our office to a new building at the beginning of the year. However, when they started moving people over here, they suddenly realized that there wasn't enough room in the building to hold everyone, so some of us stayed behind at the old building. In the last month, however, they finished the build-out of the final floor (and apparently laid-off enough people) and moved my project over here. This has tripled my commute! It used to be 2 miles and now it's 6 miles. (I'm very spoiled. In Houston, a commute this short is completely unheard of.)

Anyway, this morning, they were doing some work on the women's bathroom of my floor, so I had to go down one floor to use the bathroom. As soon as I opened the door, I realized that they must have run out of money right as they got to the bathrooms of my floor. It's a different world down there - everything has motion sensors - even the soap dispenser. Hrmph, and to think we still have to flush our own toilets and pump the soap dispenser ourselves. Not to mention the fact that the soap dispenser is actually installed in the spot where the hot water handle would be! (it's one of the strangest things I've ever seen, actually) But anyway...

The good thing about moving to the new office building is that there is a workout facility in the basement and it's really nice, too. I lifted weights today for the second time since moving here, but I miss my weight-lifting buddy, Courtney. I'm the only female down there and the guys are just waaaayyyy too serious about building muscle-mass for me. I went in, changed clothes, did my little weights circuit (legs, arms, legs, sit-ups, arms), went back into the locker room, changed, and left. I think the guys were still on the same machine they were on when I started. They all stared at me when I left.

In other news, we spent nearly all of Mother's Day cleaning the kids' bedroom. About once every six months, we have to spend pretty much the entire weekend trying to clean and re-organize the kids' bedroom. We have a nanny that likes to "pick up" the house before she leaves every day, which sounds really nice, but her idea of picking up means that she finds the closest open container and puts everything in it. The kids' bedroom had three Pull-Up boxes full of junk that had been stuffed in there because, Hey Look! How handy, an open container to fill! Two times ago when I found a used Pull-Up in one of their toy storage boxes (which, I hate to say, made me so enraged that I said some pretty nasty things about the nanny in front of the kids...), we went through this ritual and I got out the label maker, labeling everything in their room. I was hoping that the kids might learn to read through osmosis and that the nanny might stop long enough to actually read the labels. Neither of those things happened.

So we went through the process again around Christmastime and again this past weekend. This time, however, I think we're going to take my mom's advice and designate something - maybe a laundry basket - as the place she can stuff things (during the organizing process I usually come up with one place in particular I'd like for her to stuff things) and then each night, we'll have to get better about forcing the kids to put away their toys. We'll see how that goes. I have a feeling that along with many other things we have tried to tell her, this concept just won't make it through to her. Good thing she's really great with the kids... :)

The other topic that's keeping me busy is trying to keep up with this Feingold thing. But that's a-whole-nother post of it's own. Hopefully soon.

2 comments:

Aimee said...

Hi Sara, it's Aimee, just doing a little internet stalking. :) As a truck wife, I have been suffering with the motion-activated soap and paper towels for a couple years in all the glamorous "travel centers" I tend to frequent. Hopefully your phantom soap dispensers won't contain the foam crap that passes for a cleanser in all the places I've been. It's always fun to stand there like a stroke victim waving one helpless arm in the quest for ONE OR TWO DANG CARDBOARD TOWELS WITH WHICH TO DRY MY WET-BUT-NOT-CLEAN HANDS WITH, AAARRRRGGHHH!!!! Ok, so that's my rant. Love ya!

Sara said...

The husband actually has the hardest time getting any of the motion-activated things to even see him. It's somewhat amusing.

Oh, and I forgot to say that none of our stall doors lock, either. Luckily, there aren't very many women on my floor so I'm usually in there by myself with the door slightly ajar. Good times.