I was trying to whine to ManThing this morning that I wanted to "call in dead," but instead I managed to say, "I want to call in stupid."

No shirt, no shoes, no architecture.

As I was crawling around the floor on my knees at the flat files today, I once again became frustrated with the fact that I am expected to wear corporate dress despite the fact that I don’t have exposure to clients; and I may, at any time, be expected to cart around huge rolls of drawings- which causes me to become really sweaty, get funky blueline residue all over myself, and possibly smell like stinky old crusty sepia prints for the rest of the day. Additionally, it is uncomfortable to sit at a desk drawing all day when wearing the Uniform of The Man (of course, I should probably contribute that complaint to the ever-increasing size of my fat gut).

Those are also a few of the reasons why I have refused to let pantyhose anywhere near my body since 2001. I’d be much more productive in pajamas, I’m sure of it.

At least I don’t have to wear ties.

Note to Self

Quit scheduling meetings on Mondays, as you know that you lack the mental capacity to be prepared for such meetings.

I don't care how much coffee you promise to drink. It's not a good idea.

But will it shrink inflamed Project Managers?

Yesterday, I read one of the worst print ads I’ve ever seen. I won’t reproduce it in its entirety, because I’m scared of the lawyers. The surprising thing was that it was in one of my industry magazines. Has spam now spread to magazines as well? If it weren’t for the fact that the company is based out of California, it would almost qualify as Chinglish.

It read thusly (my favorite part in bold):

"The [product manufacturer] offers any U.S. established business or public agency its money back after making an average of 4,200 gallons from its first gallon, if it regretted its purchase. Also $5,000 worldwide to the first product to beat it at activating, reviving, transplanting, growing, and perfecting. Long since, [product name] has helped 5 U.S. departments to win World War II. Over 500 park system chiefs have written that [product name] works best. [Product’s] record includes repeatedly averted bankruptcies, quickly reversing whole great lost plantings to beautiful winners."

Huh. I didn’t know WWII was still on.

The high-production-budget photo accompanying the copy is of a generic black barrel, with a piece of paper taped to the top half that reads:

“FOR 100% PROUD JOBS – ‘IMPOSSIBLES’ MADE EASY.”

The bottom half of the barrel sports a very busy sticker, which boasts things such as:

“Greatest Guarantee-Offer PROOF Ever.”

Sounds like I could use a tub of this stuff on Project B.

I need 4cc's of Damnitol, STAT!

While still in school, if someone had asked me if I'd consider doing healthcare architecture, I would have answered, "hell, no." Now, not only am I practicing healthcare architecture, I've become a medical drama junkie to boot. If it weren't for my fear of puke, I'd just become a damn doctor already. I'm even starting to get the impression that I'm doomed to experience, as a patient, every type of medical facility I've ever drawn.

I've drawn a few GI labs; I had an endoscopy.
I've drawn some surgery suites; I had surgery.
I've drawn an MRI facility or two; I'm having an MRI next Wednesday.

At least I know I'm safe from "experiencing" the Labor/ Delivery/ Recovery suite I drew a few years back!

If one of my PM's tells me I'll be working on an oncology department, I may have a nervous breakdown. My luck is likely running out on not visiting an Emergency Department- I did one of those just last year.

In my own pen.

I thought I'd try a new approach to the usual whining method.
(sorry, Mikey, it's not interpretive dance)

Needing some sort of catharsis from everything that has been weighing on me, I sat down and did a "purge sketch;" something I started doing many many years ago. This is where I just draw whatever is going on in my head.

I hadn't done one of these for several years, because I became intent on only making things that other people might think is art. I have a bad habit of not making art that speaks of myself. I worry too much that what I have inside my head isn't really art, or will make people uncomfortable.

But all I have is what's in my head.

I credit a documentary on Frida Kahlo for allowing me to think that what's in there is worth documenting. Screw "art." My neuroses are what I've got to work with.

In summary:

Hip hurts. Knee burns. Having an MRI.
Project B still sucks, still drags on, and invades my sleep- but I refuse to let it invade my weekends.
Digestive system still bad.
Still fat. Still look pregnant, though I am not.

Enjoy.

In order to have even half a shot in hell of finishing Project B on time, I'd have to pull out the kind of effort I gave during school. I was a machine, going without sleep or decent food for 36 hours at a time.

People, the machine has been dormant and is rusty.

CAD Monkey: Is it wrong that when someone in the office says, "good morning" on Monday, I reply with, "shoot me?"

Cube Neighbor: Only if it’s not Monday, man…only if it’s not Monday.

CAD Monkey: Then I was well within my ethical boundries.

Cube Neighbor: THE NERVE OF SOMEONE; TO BREAK THE UNWRITTEN CARDINAL RULE OF NOT SAYING “GOOD MORNING“ ON A MONDAY...(just another example of THE MAN trying to bring us down!!)

CAD Monkey: I mean, “shoot me” is much better than, say, “piss off,” which in truth, would be the more honest reply…

Cube Neighbor: I always say honesty is the best policy.

Right on the money.

Take this quiz at QuizGalaxy.com

I'm not smiling. My jaw is stuck in clenched position.

Yesterday was spent in a 6-hour meeting, wherein it became apparent that much of the work I’d already finished would have to be redone. It just goes to prove that being “self-motivated” on this project will only get me screwed.

I will be spending most of this morning adding 4” “bumps” to all the edges of the building elevations, to indicate the stupid-looking, poo-colored, bullnose-edge, brick banding the designer wants to put on the building. There are 22 bands running the length of each elevation. There are 12 elevations, with multiple edges in each. I hate the poo-brick.

All the while that I am doing this, I get to listen as Ho-bag is giggling and having a great time, working on a design team, DOING WHAT I SHOULD BE DOING.

I was THIS CLOSE to getting a $2500 referral bonus, for getting a former coworker of mine hired. He had ALREADY SENT IN HIS ACCEPTANCE LETTER, but then withdrew it, after finding out his current company “really wanted him to stay.” They “really wanted me to stay” when I left, also, but I did what was best for me. After talking to the guy who interviewed him here, all of the same problems that caused me to leave are still in effect. Idiot.

And the final kick in the ass…Hack n’ Snort is about to get a $2500 referral bonus. For a guy who has only done churches- no hospitals. Fucker. One more reason to dislike him. Maybe he’ll use the money to get his fucking sinuses Roto-Rootered. I can only hope.

Why?

Just...why?!?