This afternoon as I was faxing the magazine to our pre-press people, receiving error messages, and refaxing, I thought about some of the great faxing mishaps of my life–and hoped I wasn’t making a new one.
Like the time back at the theater when I accidentally faxed the day’s enormously long and detailed closing paperwork to the local newspaper’s ad department instead of our home office.
Or at the collectible store, when I was trying to fax the closing paperwork to the owner and it wouldn’t go through. So I just kept trying and trying until he called to let me know I’d been using his house number, not the fax number, and that I’d woken his very ill wife while doing so.
Or one of my personal favourites, the time I repeatedly tried to fax an office supply order (forgetting the all-important 1 at the start of the number) until I finally received a message from a guy asking me to please, please stop trying to fax to his cell phone.
Ah technology, every day and in every way finding new and improved ways for me to embarrass myself. ]
Yesterday I went in to work late because I was feeling sick but not sick enough to skip work altogether. I braved the 10 degree weather (-6 real feel) and stumbled in just as they were finishing a production check in. Two hours later my boss practically booted me out the door (in a really kind way because she’s a kind person). That’s when I realized it’s true. The workplace really has changed. It used to be that you were considered a wuss if you called in and a model employee if you showed up, but now they treat you like a leper if you so much as cough. They look at you like, “How dare you come and infect the rest of us?” But it wasn’t always this way and I’m struggling to figure out how to unlearn what I’ve been taught my whole life.
So I faced the wind and 10 degree weather to walk back home. And boy howdy if I wasn’t rewarded with a phone call from the vet telling me that Wombat’s bloodwork came back with a wallop of bad news. It is a bad, bad thing when a vet says the prognosis is “not very good.” Being me I carefully took notes and hung up the phone and burst into tears. Half a box of tissue and some cheese puffs later Wombat and I snuggled up to read the second half of “The Time Traveler’s Wife”. Good book. Then we watched “The Hunt for Red October” because that’s what we do when we’re sick. It hit me again how truly astonishing it is that Sean doesn’t even try to sound Russian.]