Three weeks down!
Friday afternoons are the only time I ever miss TobacCo, because I used to clock out at noon on Fridays. Adding an extra half-day to the weekend was a pretty sweet deal, NGL. But on the flip side, that meant I worked nine-hour days with no lunch breaks the rest of the week. It’s a wonder I didn’t burn out. (Or maybe I did, since I’m no longer there? Hmm…)
In any case, I try to avoid looking at clocks on Friday afternoons now so I won’t be reminded that I was already enjoying the weekend in a former life, but you know what? They’re everywhere! On my laptop, my phone, my watch. I even bought a stupid guitar-shaped desk clock at a vintage store in Oshkosh recently. What the hell was I thinking?!
OK, it’s actually a pretty cool clock, I guess.
If I do accidentally glance at the time, say at 1:36 as I did this afternoon, I just remind myself that the salary and benefits help ease the sting of those missing four hours. That Madison > Janesville by a country mile. And that those very clocks that bedevil me are much less annoying now that I don’t have to use them to track time.
Perspective, man. It’s a good thing.
You know what else is a good thing? Giving away $10,000, as I did yesterday. And no, I’m not secretly a billionaire with a heart (and toilet) of gold. It was all work-related.
The Wisconsin Lottery has a weekly Super 2nd Chance drawing that allows people to mail in losing lottery tickets for a shot at a cash prize. Ten envelopes are drawn randomly every Thursday, and each of those people wins $1,000. All they’ve got to do is send in at least $5 worth of losing tickets — scratch-offs, Power Ball, and Mega Millions all count — within 180 days of playing. I bet a lot of people don’t even know this contest exists. Hell, it was news to me. Wisconsin Lottery employees aren’t allowed to conduct the drawings themselves, so they’re always looking for volunteers. I figured, giving away money is the next best thing to winning money (though really, the gulf is huge; it’s like saying having ten fingers is the next best thing to having no fingers), so I decided to step up to the plate this week.
The whole experience was pretty cool. It’s very well-organized and the rules are strict: a Capitol Police officer is on hand to monitor and film the drawing, a state employee narrates each step of the process, and another employee verifies the results. But I was the star of the show…not that I could see what was going on. I was blindfolded (not in a kinky way, sadly) and handed a bag full of numbered balls, each one corresponding to a bin filled with envelopes. I reached into the bag and pulled out 16 balls — ten winners and six alternates in case any of the entries were disqualified for not meeting the rules, e.g., tickets older than 180 days, oversized envelopes, not having $5 worth of losing tickets, etc. Then, I had to select one envelope from each numbered bin, in the order chosen, without bumping into the wall or tripping over a cord. Once that was complete, I was allowed to remove my blindfold, and watched as the envelopes were opened, the tickets verified, and the winners announced on camera. What a rush! Afterward, one of the state officials said, “Congratulations! You just gave away $10,000!”
I’ve done a lot of interesting things over the course of my career, but that was a first. Gotta admit, it felt pretty good.
One other funny work-related tidbit: have you seen the movie 50 First Dates? Drew Barrymore plays a woman with short-term amnesia who forgets everything that happened the day before once she wakes up the following morning. Well, there’s a guy at CheeseGov who suffers from a similar condition. My first day here, when IT was helping me set up my laptop, he came over, introduced himself to both of us, and then walked off. Totally nice guy. I figured he was another newbie like me, but then the IT gal let me in on a little secret.
“He has short-term memory loss,” she told me.
“Wait,” I said. “You’ve ‘met’ him before?”
“I ‘meet’ him every day,” she replied.
Huh. To echo New Zealand band OMC’s 1995 hit song, how bizarre. When I relayed this to Tara later, she was skeptical. “I’m secretly hoping it’s an elaborate prank on the new guy,” she said, “because that would be pretty epic.”
Whoa. Be still my April Fool-loving heart; that would be fantastic! Something you might expect from Slippin’ Jimmy, aka Saul Goodman. I’ve had my guard up ever since, but every day he walks by, introducing himself to people he’s met many times before. Not just me, but everybody. Either this is one hell of a long con and everyone in the building is in on the joke, or he’s got a legitimate case of the Drew Barrymores.
If it’s the former, give the man an Oscar already.
Mark My Words 
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