— पांच हजार छह सौ अड़तालीस —
I was bringing up what felt to me like a really pertient point during a Teams meeting this morning, regarding a "PriceGeneration" module we are in the middle of user testing before it gets rolled out live and will replace a sunset pricing program we've been using for promotions for years but no longer has support from the company that created it.
Gabby, my boss, is going a little overboard lately with her compliments. In the middle of my comments a little windw popped up showing the chat she sent me:
Matthew 4 President
It cracked me up and I started laughing in the middle of my comments. I didn't tell everyone why, and took a moment to compose myself and keep talking.
I was in another meeting, very much related to this project, yesterday and the VP of IT went out of her way to tell me how complementary Marie had been of me in their last 1:1 meeting. I smiled but never took myself off mute to say anything. This kind of stuff has really peaked lately in a way that hasn't happened in a while, and I find myself being uncharacteristically modest about it.
I mean, don't get me wrong; my love of self goes on unabated and how great I think I am as a person and personality remains unchanged. Honestly, a lot of that comes from all the open appreciation I've gotten at work for years. But these days, for some reason, it's almost a little much. (I suppose "almost" is the operative word there.)
I was
pretty pleased with myself when I reported a suspected phishing email to IT in Outlook this morning. I really looked at that email askance, and even made note of the domain the email was coming from—something I have actually been conditioned to do in anti-phishing training. I then got a pop-up congratulating me for getting it right: this was actually a fake email sent by IT as a test. So, I was right proud of myself.
Still, I had to tell Noah. And when I said, "I'm pretty pleased with myself," he replied, "Aren't you always?" Ha! Touché.
— पांच हजार छह सौ अड़तालीस —
— पांच हजार छह सौ अड़तालीस —
What else can I tell you? I was a little wary of being at home all evening by myself last night, something I'm not super enjoying these days with no more pets around. This point was driven home when I
brought Guru's remains home last night. I stopped by City Cat Vet Clinic on my way home from work on my bike. The same company cremated him that had cremated Shanti, so I have no idea why the boxes are different: Guru's has a clasp with a lid that opens, the ashes in a felt bag (the only thing I haven't actually opened, although obviously they would also be sealed in a plastic bag inside that), and with Guru's name engraved on top of the box lid. If I ever want to scatter his ashes, it'll be easy. If I want to scatter Shanti's—and why wouldn't I do both together?—I'll have to break open the box.
Anyway. Danielle called me a few days ago but I was in the middle of watching a show with Shobhit. I thought about her briefly last night, as she told me to call back soon. She called while I was reheating the large amount of leftover lentils Shobhit left behind when he went to his conference in Wenatchee, which will probably cover all of my dinners this week. We proceeded to chat for a solid two hours! She shared a lot of delightfully lurid details about her personal life, and I did a bit of the same. Honestly, I'm not sure she and I had spent that much time on a single phone call in fifteen or twenty years.
And: it was really nice, and solved the problem of spending the evening feeling lonely. It was already 7:30 by the time the phone call ended, and that only left a couple of hours for me to burn before I just got into bed.
— पांच हजार छह सौ अड़तालीस —
[posted 12:33 pm]
