The Working Girl Blog #17: I can't reach that high

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The Working Girl Blog #17:
I can't reach that high, or
Why did they have to put the furshlugginer box of bond paper at the top


To see all of Bobbie's "Working Girl" blogs, click on this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/19261/working-girl-blogs

   

Nothing much to write about today's boring workday,

except that my guys are really into the testing, and making test cases. In other words - borrring...

Par for the course.

Most of my team's been on the phone, checking back with the client if the testing team's test scenarios were correct. Not that big a deal, actually, since our project is mostly a workflow kind of system, so test data types aren't as strict as in, say, an accounting system-type project. We had a lucky break actually - the client's people promised to courier us a disk drive full of actual data and scanned documents that we can use, both before end-of-month and after end-of-month data (which is great because it'll give us a before and after view). If this turns out okay, then that takes care of 90% of our test data buildup. If we're lucky, that'll knock at least three (maybe even four!) weeks from our timetable. But enough tech talk.

Like most any team in the company who's in the middle of testing, we go through paper like water. And because I had my own printer (it's just a DeskJet - I didn't rate my own laser printer), I was one of the heavier paper users. Anyway, I ran through my remaining ream of paper in an hour.

I didn't know where to get more paper. I asked around among my guys and one of them pointed me to a room which was just off the boss's room. So I went. What greeted me was a windowless room full of cardboard boxes. One wall was stacked with these boxes up to the ceiling, almost, each box helpfully labeled "typewriter paper." Cool. Thing was, the boxes were in stacks, with the lowest stack maybe three feet over my head. (I am what you might call "vertically challenged").

Experimentally, I tried pushing up the boxes to get at one in the middle, but to no avail. (Not being too strong comes packaged with the shortness thing). Anyway, the only logical thing to do was to take the topmost box. But I did say I... wasn't too tall, right?

Anyway, after a futile fifteen minutes of trying, Sammi comes in and shrieks, "What are you doing?!"

Sammi, being Sammi, sweet-talks one of the taller gents to come and get the top box for lil ole me. He takes it down and brings it to my office. Sammi then scolds me (in a friendly way), and why didn't I get one of the men to do it for me. That's what they're there for.

I guess a more, ummm, emancipated kind of girl will insist on doing things herself, and not be a powder puff kind of girly-girl, and have Neanderthals (no offense, guys!) carry stuff around for her. Guess after this incident, maybe Sammi thinks I'm that kind of girl. Truth is I get a kick out of people carrying stuff for me, or opening doors, or pulling my chair out for me, or, even better, paying for the restaurant bill! Heheh. Yup - all totally and unforgiveably stereotypical, unfair and, in a way, chauvinistic. Apologies.

Anyway - lesson learned. Get the guys to do things - check.

But now what'll I do with the thirty reams of paper in my office?

   
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To see ALL of Bobbie's blogposts, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog/bobbie-c
To see Bobbie's stories in BCTS, click this link: http://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/book/14775/roberta-j-cabot



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