My bosses, Donna and Nancy (and quite a few of the uniformed guys), at the
PD think I'm just a little bit wacky, but they're enjoying the fun, nevertheless. And I've been having such fun the past few days, I've been walking around giggling in the halls.
We're finally moving a whole lot of people off of the first floor in the station so we can complete reconstruction of our building. MEN. Of course, they never asked us WOMEN -- who know how to be organized, and know what needs to be done -- how to do anything. We just have to clean up the mess they make. It wasn't too much problem moving people, desks, computers. But it's been a
nightmare trying to move 30 years of case-related property that is
evidence: it must be controlled tightly for chain-of-custody in court purposes. filing cabinets, boxes, bags, bikes, computers, tools, miscellaneous "stuff"; and then, of course, Valuables: drugs, money, jewelry.
There we were today, moving property in the rain and humidity: filing cabinets, boxes, bags, bikes, computers, tools, miscellaneous "stuff". And then, of course, Valuables: drugs, money, jewelry. Now June is the start of the rain and hurricane season in Florida; you think the guys would have thought about that first when asking us to move now! And we were trying to fit all this evidence into railroad cargo containers -- and coming up short because the MEN had not ordered enough of them (even though we had asked them to); and onto shelves that were being built by the MEN as we moved the evidence (because they wouldn't believe us when we told them several times in the last few months that we would need more shelves). Sheesh.
Anyway. I was trying to help this endeavor and designed a spreadsheet containing all our evidence (26,000 lines that I cleaned up to 856!) and several maps for our Property ladies to use in locating evidence while they are living in/working out of these lovely railroad cars for the next year. The map is so cool! I drew all these shelves, numbered all the evidence boxes, inserted drawings for all the bikes, computers, bags, and other stuff -- and then, tonight, inserted little pictures of women inside the railroad cars.
Silly stuff. Giggling at work. Got to do something when the men drive you crazy with their testosterone! But my bosses, Donna and Nancy, love it. And I know, one day, these same guys will be looking at my spreadsheet and map, saying, "We could have done it better." Because they're always thinking with their little brains.
Wish I could claim credit for this quote, but I can't. I don't even know the identity of the guest who wrote this, but I read it in a "thank you book" aboard SUN DANCER II, the liveaboard dive boat I sailed on in the atolls of Belize earlier this month. Here I am, squared off fish-face to regulator-mouth, with a pretty little Grey Angelfish. My view of diving has changed dramatically ever since I started really looking at -- and counting -- fish.
That's what I've been making a conscientious effort to do. Kind of like this Yellowhead Jawfish, peeking out of the sandy bottoms of Belize at us bunch of crazy divers and photographers. Or running so slowly that I can hear birds cheeping at one another. And breathing so slowly in and out during my yoga asanas that I can actually feel the air moving through my nose hairs.
What a grand time! Thanks much, Andrew, for the photos and the fun.
Love this idea! Posting a photo of where you blog.
And here's a sample photo from my recent Belize dive trip to National Heritage Site, "The Blue Hole" (140 feet deep!) Actually, this is a photo of a painted drawing in this itsy bitsy museum on Half Moon Caye. When my dive buddy photographers send me the underwater photo of me diving *in* the Blue Hole, you'll get a better concept of the whole experience.
