Today I get to spend the day in a riveting accounting seminar. I know you're jealous. Because I am away from my desk, I am trying my hardest to type out this post on my B.lackberry. Please forgive grammatical and spelling errors until I can go back and edit.
So, I am about 10 minutes into this seminar, and already tired and bored. I really do love my job - but accounting really isn't a topic that keeps you on the edge of your seat. To keep myself busy, I usually text everyone I know, catch up on news and blog reading, and of course, play B.rickB.reaker. B.rickB.reaker, as B.lackberry users know, is the addictive game that comes standard. It's kind of like Asteroids, and doesn't use any hi-tech software or anything, but it keeps me busy. For hours. It doesn't take much, people.
Being at this conference reminds me of a conference I went to last September. Well, this conference is much smaller, and I don't have to travel since it's in town. But the story is hilarious, so I will share.
Last September, I had to attend a conference in Baltimore, about three hours away. Along with three coworkers, I traveled up to Baltimore one evening. We stopped, ate dinner, arrived at the hotel and checked in. Slept. Got up the next morning and walked down to the conference area of the hotel. I met up with my coworkers, and we grabbed the four chairs closest to the door, of course. The conference begins.
Much like the seminar I am at now, it was riveting and amazing. HA. I lie. It was boring, rather than check my pulse every 10 minutes, I started chatting (God bless GoogleTalk application). Finally, it was time for lunch. Since we were closest to the door, we were the first group out of the door, and into the banquet room. They had a nice little buffet spread set up, and since I am a pig, I took full advantage. When I had finished piling all the food imaginable onto my plate, I spotted a coworker sitting at a table not too far off. I scurried over to him, sat down, and ate as if I had just spent the last six months on a deserted island without food. As I finished, the staff was rolling out a dessert table! Joy! I stood up and contemplated dessert (who was I kidding?) I realized that my butt was damp. Upon further investigation, I saw that the chair I plopped down onto was wet, and now, my light tan colored trouser pants were wet. And you could tell. Just a little panicked (what if someone had peed on that chair? OMG, was it possible I just sat in pee? Gross gross gross), and excused myself to the Ladies.
Now. I want to know what kind of classy airport hotel has. Conference area with many rooms, and a bathroom with three stalls. Seriously?!?! Three stalls? Any woman who has ever waited in line will tell you this is a gross injustice, and clearly designed by a man. So, there I wait. In line, with my back to the wall. All during this time, I am texting my friend, L. As I scoot up in line, I am frantically texting. Finally, its my turn. Some lady tries to sneak in when a stall opens up! The nerve! I had to explain to her that I was waiting. She countered with, "well, you're texting, I didn't think you were waiting". No lady, I always come into the bathroom to text? Why the hell else would I be waiting in a cramped, germ infested ladies room with 15 strangers? Seriously. I basically fight my way into the stall. Of course it's the middle stall, and of course, it is literally the World's Smallest Bathroom Stall. Between the toilet and the paper dispenser, there wasn't room to stand. So, I get in, manage to hang my purse, and update L about the biotch who tried to sneak in front of me, I frantically pull down the drawers and pee (by this time, I really had to go). Now, since I am such a fantastic multi-tasker, I pull some toilet paper out of the dispenser, and start to dry off my pants. I feel like I have somewhat dried them off, and I might be able to walk around with out a giant wet spot on my ass, and I look down to admire my ingenuity when it comes to pants drying ability. I realize I am not wearing any undies. How strange, I thought to myself...I never go commando. As this thought is shooting through my head, I realize that I am wearing undies. I realize that they are still around my waist. I had pulled down my trouser pants, but left my underpants on. And peed. In my pants. At the age of 27. I am awesome.
So, you're probably wondering what I did next. At this point, I wasn't about to try to walk out of the stall (which I have been in for an unusually long period of time, especially since I knew there was still a line). I did the only thing I could have done. I took off my pants, and took off my undies. Now, remember, still in the small stall, I bang around trying to take the trousers off with out letting them touch the ground (gross!). I finally remove the undies, dress myself again, and chuck the pee pants in the hygienic waste bin.
When I finally returned to my group, lunch was over, and I missed out on the lemon chiffon cake. My coworkers actually asked where I'd been - problems in the ladies room? I must have turned about 15 shades of red when I responded "nope, just a long line".
So, I am about 10 minutes into this seminar, and already tired and bored. I really do love my job - but accounting really isn't a topic that keeps you on the edge of your seat. To keep myself busy, I usually text everyone I know, catch up on news and blog reading, and of course, play B.rickB.reaker. B.rickB.reaker, as B.lackberry users know, is the addictive game that comes standard. It's kind of like Asteroids, and doesn't use any hi-tech software or anything, but it keeps me busy. For hours. It doesn't take much, people.
Being at this conference reminds me of a conference I went to last September. Well, this conference is much smaller, and I don't have to travel since it's in town. But the story is hilarious, so I will share.
Last September, I had to attend a conference in Baltimore, about three hours away. Along with three coworkers, I traveled up to Baltimore one evening. We stopped, ate dinner, arrived at the hotel and checked in. Slept. Got up the next morning and walked down to the conference area of the hotel. I met up with my coworkers, and we grabbed the four chairs closest to the door, of course. The conference begins.
Much like the seminar I am at now, it was riveting and amazing. HA. I lie. It was boring, rather than check my pulse every 10 minutes, I started chatting (God bless GoogleTalk application). Finally, it was time for lunch. Since we were closest to the door, we were the first group out of the door, and into the banquet room. They had a nice little buffet spread set up, and since I am a pig, I took full advantage. When I had finished piling all the food imaginable onto my plate, I spotted a coworker sitting at a table not too far off. I scurried over to him, sat down, and ate as if I had just spent the last six months on a deserted island without food. As I finished, the staff was rolling out a dessert table! Joy! I stood up and contemplated dessert (who was I kidding?) I realized that my butt was damp. Upon further investigation, I saw that the chair I plopped down onto was wet, and now, my light tan colored trouser pants were wet. And you could tell. Just a little panicked (what if someone had peed on that chair? OMG, was it possible I just sat in pee? Gross gross gross), and excused myself to the Ladies.
Now. I want to know what kind of classy airport hotel has. Conference area with many rooms, and a bathroom with three stalls. Seriously?!?! Three stalls? Any woman who has ever waited in line will tell you this is a gross injustice, and clearly designed by a man. So, there I wait. In line, with my back to the wall. All during this time, I am texting my friend, L. As I scoot up in line, I am frantically texting. Finally, its my turn. Some lady tries to sneak in when a stall opens up! The nerve! I had to explain to her that I was waiting. She countered with, "well, you're texting, I didn't think you were waiting". No lady, I always come into the bathroom to text? Why the hell else would I be waiting in a cramped, germ infested ladies room with 15 strangers? Seriously. I basically fight my way into the stall. Of course it's the middle stall, and of course, it is literally the World's Smallest Bathroom Stall. Between the toilet and the paper dispenser, there wasn't room to stand. So, I get in, manage to hang my purse, and update L about the biotch who tried to sneak in front of me, I frantically pull down the drawers and pee (by this time, I really had to go). Now, since I am such a fantastic multi-tasker, I pull some toilet paper out of the dispenser, and start to dry off my pants. I feel like I have somewhat dried them off, and I might be able to walk around with out a giant wet spot on my ass, and I look down to admire my ingenuity when it comes to pants drying ability. I realize I am not wearing any undies. How strange, I thought to myself...I never go commando. As this thought is shooting through my head, I realize that I am wearing undies. I realize that they are still around my waist. I had pulled down my trouser pants, but left my underpants on. And peed. In my pants. At the age of 27. I am awesome.
So, you're probably wondering what I did next. At this point, I wasn't about to try to walk out of the stall (which I have been in for an unusually long period of time, especially since I knew there was still a line). I did the only thing I could have done. I took off my pants, and took off my undies. Now, remember, still in the small stall, I bang around trying to take the trousers off with out letting them touch the ground (gross!). I finally remove the undies, dress myself again, and chuck the pee pants in the hygienic waste bin.
When I finally returned to my group, lunch was over, and I missed out on the lemon chiffon cake. My coworkers actually asked where I'd been - problems in the ladies room? I must have turned about 15 shades of red when I responded "nope, just a long line".
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