Sister T... The workplace kleptomaniac

Websters dictionary defines kleptomania as an obsessive impulse to steal regardless of economic need, usually arising from an unconscious symbolic value associated with the stolen item.

My supervisor, Sister T (the name has been changed to protect the guilty) is a kleptomaniac of sorts. In a nutshell, she likes to steal (lift, borrow, and not return... whatever) ink pens. It doesn't matter what color, brand, or value...

Just as long as it has ink. Ink pens are her passion, you see...

If there's a need for her signature on paperwork, we know that we will most definitely hear her speak four dreadful words...

"You got a pen?"

We look at her. She's looking at the paperwork and her hand is extended towards us. She is unaware of the look of horror on our faces...

In our minds we scream "Hell no! If I give you my pen, I won't get it back!" But we reluctantly relinquish our ink pens. It's either that, or receive a questionable performance review at the end of the year...

The smart employees always have a cheap throw-away ink pen available. But when you're not so bright, or caught completely off guard, what can you do??

Sister T bragged to a coworker (name withheld) that she had lifted an ink pen from her mother-in-law. Sister T was especially happy with that particular ink pen. It was the best writing pen
she'd ever stolen. She mentioned that it had belong to her mother-in-law, and that she received so many compliments on her nice pen.

So as you can see, family isn't even safe from her klepto ways...

And it's only going to get worse as she gets older. Right now, it's only ink pens. Next thing you know, it'll be paperclips, a calculator, a lunch bag, or God forbid, a wallet or purse.

(By the way, a co-supervisor was frantically searching for her calculator. She even sent out a serious e-mail about her lost property. I wonder?... Hmmm...)

I am writing this commentary because Sister T did something odd and completely bizzare. I was sitting in her office, and she was signing some paperwork, and she looked at me, a smile lighting her face and said...

"I don't know who I stole this ink pen from? You want it?"

"No thank you," I replied quietly. I immediately looked down at the floor.

At first thought, I would have jumped at the chance to get an ink pen from her. She has lifted so many from me, you see. But this ink pen was different: It was a bright neon green retractable pen. The type that looked like it would glow brightly in the dark. Very, very unique indeed.

There was no way I would've been caught with such a unique ink pen.

No, I didn't want the owner of that pen to see me with it, and go around whispering "You need to watch your ink pens around Ladylee..."

"She's a kleptomaniac... Just like Sister T!!"

Ol' Mean Ass Cynthia-- my beloved bootleg editor...

Since I've been writing, there have been a couple of people who vigorously go through chapters of my manuscript and make corrections and sugesstions...

One of those people is my fellow chemist Cynthia, or Ol' Mean Ass Cynthia as our beloved secretary Dee likes to refer to her. She's an avid reader, like myself, but a little more diverse in tastes. When I asked her to read some of my work and to tell me what she thinks of it, she agreed to do so.

But she's that strange type of gal, you know. The type that sneaks up behind you, and scares the hell out of you when you happen to turn around and notice her quietly standing there. She's doesn't even have to speak: she just gives you that look, you know, that look. The same look your mama use to give you when you were cuttin' up. That one look that made you stop all mischievious behavior in an instant...

She's that type that walks quietly, but carries a baseball bat...

She sits in a cubicle on the other side of my cubicle, but two cubicles up. When she wants to ask me a question, she doesn't just yell out "Hey oldgirl, come here!". No, she quietly picks up her phone, dials your extension, and quietly hisses "Hello, could you come here for a moment please?" Very polite indeed... but oh so sinister.

She doesn't walk... She glides.

I was thinking about running up on her with a full length mirror to see if she casts a reflection... I trashed that idea because I will be in serious trouble if she doesn't.

She's been hanging in there from the beginning, and she frowned up at my first couple of chapters, almost enough to make me take my manuscript and place it in a file and hide it under my file cabinet. But now, she's becoming a more loving editor, making wonderful suggestions and pushing me forward. We actually had a beautiful yet argumentative discussion about my current chapter in progress, Chapter 19. I finally listened to what she had to say. She's actually shoved me back on the right track!!

So here's to you Cynthia, my "bootleg", i.e., "work for free" editor.

Thanks for helping me out.

Keep doing what you do, girl... with your ol' mean ass self!

So "Carter-Annish"...

I'm about to move into my new house soon...
Very soon, I hope...

And I got my first housewarming gift today from my good friend of seventeen years, a true oldgirl, Ms. Carter-Anne! A Lowe's gift card and a beautiful keepsake magnet for the refrigerator that I have yet to purchase.

It's a beautiful little magnet, showing two shelves containing little plants, gift-wrapped boxes, a water pitcher, and an apple. It even has a little happy birdy on it also. This all makes sense. It's so "Carter-Annish".

The perfect gift from my flower-child friend, who once planted corn in the front yard of her house. I remember standing there looking at the emerging stalks saying "Girl, are you crazy? Have you lost your mind? A crop of corn in the front yard?" She nodded her head as she watered her corn and said "Oh, it's going to be just lovely!".

Those corn stalks grew tall and strong. I'd never seen such a site. It was so "Carter-Annish", and it was all so right!

So thanks again, Oldgirl and family! I will always cherish my special magnet from my special friend...

Now about that Lowe's card... Is there enough credit on it for the black Maytag freezer on the bottom French doors refrigerator I want so badly??

The state of music Videos...

I finished up some writing today...
Didn't get but about a page done, but that's good enough...
Progress is progress...

But anyway, I sat on the couch this afternoon and did a little channel surfing and came across BET's top 25 countdown hosted by Jermaine Dupri, a music producer from my beloved Atlanta. We went to the same elementary school. I didn't know him. He was in first grade, and I was in the sixth...

But he played some of his favorite videos, and I must say, it made me proud to see all the work he's done. A lot of the videos featured were of songs he produced. Too bad he doesn't get the credit he deserves.

Most of these videos were from over five to fifteen years ago. Videos by Xscape, Kriss Kross, the Brat, old Usher, etc. This was when videos were fun.

It made me a bit sad, because I actually use to love videos. I can't say that about today's current videos. I can't even look at them. I don't like being forced to look at scantily clad women bent over, their butts filling the entire T.V. screen. No thank you honey, but I don't want to see the imprint of your vagina against the fabric of your thong. I mean, if you turn the volume down there's no difference from video to video... No, I don't want to see shiny cars with shiny rims spinning in the sun. And please backup from the camera. Your platinum, gold and diamond encrusted grill is blinding me.

It's getting really old...

What happened to originality?? Okay, Missy Elliot, Busta Rhymes, Outkast... they're innovative. But that's about it. Everybody else? Well...Better yet, what happen to just standing on a stage, on the beach, on the sidewalk, and simply singing the songs???

I would like a video music channel that played only old videos. I'd definitely subscribe to that.

Yeah, I would like that a lot!

In the begininng...

Everyone seems to be blogging these days...
Thought I would get in on some of this action...

It's 8:00 a.m. on a dreary Saturday morning here in my beloved Atlanta Georgia. It's been raining cats and dogs all summer long. The humidity has been at what feels like 200% all summer long.

I'm about to go fix myself a bowl of pineapples, put on my O'Jays Greatest Hits CD, and sit down and work on my novel for the next few hours...

Hopefully I can eek out about five pages today...