It ain’t rocket surgery

I’m giving a talk tomorrow on ENT Urgencies. Needless to say, I should have narrowed my topic somewhat. I have a bad feeling that my talk will sprawl hopelessly, lacking as it does nearly any sense of focus. Oy. And to make matters worse, I checked an email today wherein the doc running these Wednesday talks specified what he wanted me to cover. Um . . . different urgencies. Not a complete lack of overlap, but now I have to tack on a “loose ends” powerpoint presentation. Like I have time for this? Yes, it’s a two-hour talk (and yes, it amazes me that anyone can sit still for a two-hour talk), but I have a million different urgencies to cover.

I should have picked something narrower, like cockroaches in the ear canal, or fish bones in the throat.

Hey! This is cool:

Wish me luck.

D.

Kick that ask!

D.

A Doug by any other name

Yes, I know Starbuck’s is evil, but we don’t have Peet’s coffee in Bako. The bags, yes, but not the coffee shops. So today while Jake was doing his community service thing (a requirement of his high school — kind of cool, really), I popped down to SB for some iced tea. You know how they like to write your name on the cup? “Doug,” I said, and was passingly dismayed to find in black marker on perspiring plastic, “Dud.”

I’ve been worse over the years. When my friend Stan took me to an auto auction to buy my first car, the guy whose job it was to fill out name tags for visitors wrote “Dug.” Which tickled Stan to no end, of course, and he still tells the story.

But the worst was long ago, waaay back in Hebrew school, which I’ll remind you was a torment I asked for. And you know, despite the various annoyances — my snooty classmates, all of whom acted like their dads made a lot more than mine, which they probably did but how did they KNOW that; the incredibly crappy textbooks, which taught vocabulary but no grammar whatsoever; the complete lack of theological instruction, which is what I’d hoped I’d be getting — the experience was worthwhile. Worthwhile, despite annoyance #4: Israeli teachers who could not for the life of them pronounce the schwa that links my “D” to my “G”. For all my years in Hebrew school, I was forever “Dog.”

Eventually they gave us Hebrew names. Mine was David. A D name is a D name, I suppose, and David suited me fine. For many years, I wanted to change my name to David. And then I had my Bar Mitzvah, no one ever called me Dog again, and I forgot about the whole thing.

I’m too old to change now. But wouldn’t it be cool if we could choose our own names, at our 21st birthday, for example?

D.

Expressive me

Last two days I’ve participated in a workshop for training Unit Based Team co-leaders. I am now a trained co-leader. We will be using something called RIM, Rapid Improvement Model, to affect rapid improvements in our day-to-day processes in the office. RIM is big, I’m told. Tiger Woods used RIM to improve his golf game, and no doubt also to improve his ability to score floozy ass.

You must know that I have a low tolerance for WUABATs (Wanton Use of Acronyms By Administrator Types) so of course I had to grab my diversion where I could. And they’re not even administrators, these people who run these workshops. They’re . . . I don’t know what they are. Process Improvement Experts, I suppose. PIEs.

So when I had to answer the question, How will your team make decisions? I of course said, “Magic 8-Ball,” and when I had to answer the question, How will you provide feedback to your team members? I said, “With a flaming paper bag full of dog poop.”

That’ll get my message across!

We had to take a quiz to assess our “working style.” It’s a five question quiz. For example, in the following question, you’re supposed to assign a number 1 to 4, 1 being “most correct” and 4 being “least correct.”

1. When performing a job, it is most important to me to
a. do it correctly, regardless of the time involved
b. set deadlines and get it done
c. work as a team, cooperatively with others
d. demonstrate my talents and enthusiasm

You do this for five questions. After totaling your points for each of the a, b, c, and d responses, you look to see which has the lowest value (the ‘a’ answers, the ‘b’ answers, etc.) and that determines your working style.

Mine is expressive.

D — Expressive
*Spontaneous actions and decisions, risk-taker
*Likes involvement
*Generates new & innovative ideas
*Tends to dream and get others caught up on the dream
*Jumps from one activity to another
*Works quickly and excitingly with others
*Not good with follow-through

Then, like a horoscope, we have a little grid that shows how we’re going to get along with our co-leaders, depending upon their working style. My co-leader is a Driver.

Be patient and try to work with a flip chart to harness creative spirits. Emphasize time lines and due dates. Build in flexibility to allow the free reign of creativity.

Alternatively, I could have saved fifteen minutes of my life and consulted Astrology.com.

You feel better able to handle your people today — in fact, you may decide that the best thing for you to do is to let them wander off on their own while you take care of the stuff that’s better done alone.

Granted, I am indeed Expressive. When asked the question, How would you like to receive recognition? I responded, “From Salma Hayek.”

A fellow Expressive.

How’s that for a new and innovative idea? Or does Salma fall under “tends to dream”? Hmm.

D.

Her husband’s an Alsatian.

D.

Good drugs, and it all looks like ass to me

Got my throat scoped today. Worst part about it, they made me gargle Cetacaine, this nasty-tasting yellow crap that makes everything numb — lips, tongue, cheeks, throat. But it did the job. Not that I would remember if it DIDN’T do the job, since they also dosed me up with Versed, a wonderful drug for making people forget just about anything.

Seven hours later and I’m still pretty sleepy. I wonder if this means I’ll sleep well tonight? I kind of doubt it. My MO, usually, is to be exhausted as hell, dead on my feet, right up until the moment my head hits the pillow. Then I’m wired.

I didn’t get a video of my exam, but I imagine it went something like this:

D.

Looking for fun, are we?

The Craigslist personals section is my daily dose of comics.

I’m an fun woman just out of a relationship and i just wants to let go and have some fun. I’m looking for a fun down to earth guy that have some fun with. No issues or hang ups. Just NSA fun. I have a thing for younger guys but any age is fine as long as you are goodlooking and in decent shape.

SEND PICS & STATS or NO REPLY!!!

Please be serious!!!!

I was good with this until the end. Please be serious? I thought you wanted FUN!

Still recovering from last week.

Still expecting (irrationally, now) the pager to go off.

D.

On a lighter note . . .

From the Facebook group, Can this poodle wearing a tinfoil hat get more fans than Glenn Beck?

I'll bet they are. I'll bet they are.

I thought it was only Republican congressmen who lived in closets, but I’m beginning to wonder about Eric Massa.

D.

Thinner

Not!

Is it really so much to ask? I only want to lose ten pounds. Even five would be a big improvement. I’m not that overweight, but on me, five or ten pounds makes a huge difference. And working my ass off at the gym — well, it’s not working my ass off.

It’s always something. I can’t eat beef. I can’t eat milk products without taking a Lactaid first. And now it seems I can’t indulge in salty snacks without retaining water. How else can I explain a two-pound weight gain in as many days?

Yes, I know some folks out there have it much worse than me. But the seeming easiness of my goal makes its unattainability all the more frustrating. Does that make sense? It’s like declaring your New Years Resolution to be, “I’m going to avoid speeding on the highway at least one day this upcoming year,” only to find yourself punching the accelerator time after time.

Speaking of which.

My doctor offered me phentermine. Did I mention that? I asked him what it was, exactly, and he said (with masterful nonchalance), “Speed.” I told him no thanks. Not that I couldn’t use the energy or the weight loss, but I’m insomnia-plagued as it is.

Time to take more Hoodia.

D.