Best Phone Call Received This Month

Oh yes, my friends, all capitalized. So I rolled my ankle in soccer about a week ago and the little bastard hasn't gotten any better. I could blame the seven carafes of coffee I drink a day or the fact that my family is naturally at risk for osteoporosis or that I never really remember to take my calcium supplement. Or I could blame it on the fact that I have such delicate joints, but really that's not the point is it? The point is that I was prompted to give CVS a ring today to see whether or not they had ankle bracers. Too many times have their "medical supplies" spurned me. I don't know what they carry at that store, but I can tell you that it includes a hella amount of cough suppressants, toothpaste, and condoms. Fool proof strategy. Anyway, thought I'd check with the store before actually scampering over there to have my heart broken yet again by their version of "first aid". Aide. Whatever, you know what I mean. This conversation was short and sweet and ragingly hilarious to me, so much so that I actually told 3 other coworkers about it, all of who couldn't have cared less. So maybe you'll find it amusing:

Guy: "Hi you've reached CVS on Irving Blvd, Jason speaking."
Me: "Hey, do you carry ankle bracers?"
Jason: "Sure. What is it for?"
Me: "... ... ... Really? I mean, my ankle?"
JJ: "No no, do you want the flexible one or the one with the little sticks?"
Me: "Flexible."
J-man: "Please hold."
**a short time later**
Jay: "We have a few kinds that range in price from $18 to $18."
Me: "... Wow. Thanks for your help!"

And that was pretty much it. In other news, I am now heading up marketing for my company due to a medical leave of absence on the part of our VP of Marketing and Human Resources. Since I've never done it before and since this woman didn't write anything down, it's certainly been interesting, but for now it's not overly complicated since I've outright ignored the need for press releases and instead worked on sending out products and images for editorial "credit" (by which they mean vague acknowledgement, but to a magazine person it's like the Holy Grail). Today I got a request from a person named Mikki (pronounced "Mikey") who sounded like she was 12. I realize that Mikki/Mikey may not have seen our magazine, but she must know something about to have all of the requisite information. It was just an odd exchange because when she asked for the image, she asked for "preferably something professionally done, but I'll take a high res image".

Okay, if you are a CATALOG COMPANY you only have professional photos. Me taking my digicam out into the warehouse and shooting some dusty candelabra in an unlit corner just isn't going to cut the so-called mustard. Maybe I should offer her a high res crayon drawing done by a 6 year old, but little Billy was taken away by the feds when they found out we had been working him 15 hours a day and all of his little crayons were worn down to their stubby ends. And now I can't even remember what I was talking about.

Its like my own teeny plague

I know I haven't posted in a while, but I'm posting now out of desperation.

There is a fly in my office that is, and I'm not kidding about this, the size of a small cat. That bastard has been living in here and whizzing around my head for about a month now and I think I've finally reached the limit of my patience. He brought all of his little friends in last night and guess what? I opened up a big ol' bottle of pain with my Napa Style because it's the ugliest catalog I have ever seen and the man who owns it quotes himself. That's just ridiculous, but I digress. I thought I had gotten the ringleader too, but he's back and I think he's angry. Frankly, I'm frightened for my life and everyone is out of the office until tomorrow morning. Any suggestions on how I'm going to kill the biggest fly I've ever seen are welcome. In the meantime, I have adopted this strategy:

1. Scream like a little girl every time it comes within 5 feet of me.
2. Try to squelch screams to maintain my aura of professionalism.
3. Valiantly take a swing at it with my Napa Style, Harvest 2005 edition. Yeah, I'll "Celebrate the Flavor of Life", Michael. Jerk.
4. Return to crying softly over my lean cuisine because I have been out thought and out maneuvered by a fly for OVER A MONTH.