Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Stupid Stories from Work and from Home

#1 – Work

A co-worker – let’s call her “Kimberly” – was back to the office for the first day after her vacation. Kimberly had an appointment scheduled with “Jeremy J” at 1:00.

At 10:00, Jeremy J shows up to meet with Kimberly. He’s early, but she makes time to meet with him anyway. They sit for about an hour talking about the program supports she can offer, and the type of help that he is looking for. He's really enthusiastic and feels this is "just what I need!" They schedule a follow up appointment for the following week.

At 1:00, Jeremy J shows up to meet with Kimberly. Ah, wait a minute…you’re not Jeremy J, he was already here, and you don’t look a thing like him! It sinks in for Kimberly that she MET AND ASSESSED THE WRONG PERSON with a very similar name. We’re still trying to figure out how this happened, and now she has to do an assessment report for both and figure out just what we’re going to do with Jeremy J #1, since he hasn’t really even been referred to us! Welcome back Kimberly, vacation’s over.

#2 – Home

For some reason, AM decided that he really wanted Five Alive fruit punch at dinner. Dinner was only a short way away, so he put the can of concentrate out on the counter to thaw.

All three of us are hanging around the kitchen waiting for the vegetables to finish roasting, and AM decides that the juice is likely thawed enough to get out of the can. He pulls the little plastic tab and pops the metal top off, but the juice is still pretty frozen and doesn’t want to come out.

AM cleverly decides to hold the lid back on the can and give it a shake to loosen the juice so he can dump it in the jug. Somehow while completing this action (the details of which will be debated in the family for years to come, no doubt) the juice EXPLODES out of the can, landing on just about every single surface in our rather small kitchen, including a dollop on the kiddo’s head, and a good portion in my hair, clothes, and down my neck!

It took one dishcloth, two showers, and three times mopping the floor to (almost) clean up the mess. AM will forever be held responsible for the “Five Alive Attack!” (unless I come up with a better title. Anyone?)

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