tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36293681954062095422024-02-18T22:56:23.565-08:00Mattrix's Dear DiaryServing daily portions of Corporate America humor.<p>Open Monday - Friday, 6AM to 5PMMattrixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07983633090172763012noreply@blogger.comBlogger262125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3629368195406209542.post-73354256006234998112009-01-16T08:25:00.000-08:002009-01-16T08:25:06.184-08:00Friday Fun: Eye TestDear Diary,<br /><br />Here's an eye test for you, Diary.  It took me a few tries, but I finally found him.<br /><br />Can you spot the 44th President of the United States of America in the chart below?<br /><br /><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 189px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6xGo5KR22TJAYdWXsysuE-4OXy5gKRGucllB0lyn5vQvxpbWxleFBDdiK74xvfhppKGd7ti2UL7DctKxETx1unEhKIzIYlWwEsnQ_r8y82pDJS0dRmpDnETNsQ8sowl2VoZVs6hIlfdA/s320/44th_president_eye_test.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291557801807015906" /><br /><span style="color:#ffffff">.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer">More diary entries available at http://deardiary.themullinsfamily.com</div>Mattrixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07983633090172763012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3629368195406209542.post-3955209815321569742009-01-15T08:27:00.000-08:002009-01-15T08:56:32.536-08:00Cubicles Can be Dangerous TooDear Diary,<br /><br />Below are some pictures that my cousin took while he was on tour in Iraq.  That's my cousin in the first picture.  For one of these pictures he wrote the caption: "Better than a cubicle."<br /><br />That's when I had to pull my hankie out of my suit pocket and throw it on the ground in disagreement.  I'll have you know that the corporate life inside a cubicle can be dangerous too.  Granted, it's not as dangerous as driving inside a humvee through Fallujah.  But still, be wary of Corporate America.<br /><br />For example, I recall an incident in late 2007 when I tried to staple some reports together and my stapler was not loaded.  I think that is totally comparable to when my cousin was involved in firefight and his M-16 ran out of bullets.<br /><br />We're both pinned down in our "cubicles."  (Mine being an actual cubicle and his being the metaphorical humvee cubicle.)  At the end of the day, though, we both reloaded our weapons and continued on to complete our missions. His: to save Iraq from terrorists, and Me: to deliver a PowerPoint presentation with a pretty chart on it.<br /><br /><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSOgVkMkOS-9jwBqne-9OpBOPoio9ASbky2PrjDs5PhEOwvSmODGdKvTZEuDRW-Ih5qvJEEmpVviOkP7I6nkXy4FFothdKX-v7ZQ3QrA6dr5aKFwplZG89eMxnDwiCC2MCIuP5jQvbjIg/s320/n1614715634_53807_1120.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291560053532044562" /><br /><br /><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIyfnnvVMM0bA2Dk9vWB7XCoFIJ6PBAa3ScyuSxP5qfV6k1tGAFUcYMpLcXX5an_7flRBHU8uUSbj-MwxBaoGoJaOALkdp80AU90dgFaz6-2kWeIXf0bS1dhWZc0iLlBtpWd8ehI_AFuo/s320/n1614715634_53802_9896.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291559986774092322" /><br /><br /><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn5R1t9pL2xMAbP7Rk76YbTlbLLMFeCXm3lRVvvRpZ5mpI4X_7VIZhSd3al8Ve1C-7X1aN8hPG1bd49l-8ezk28LwyacZ3XAW6L4WAEimiH4djHs-nzE3Lawwv02iGPWiAFxeEvQj5Xm0/s320/n1614715634_53804_390.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291564575512907282" /><br /><span style="color:#ffffff">.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer">More diary entries available at http://deardiary.themullinsfamily.com</div>Mattrixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07983633090172763012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3629368195406209542.post-61928295293292900362009-01-13T17:29:00.001-08:002009-01-14T07:38:06.948-08:00"Fritter Gate"Dear Diary,<br /><br />This is totally scandalous, Diary.  Yesterday I told you about "Cliff" giving me a hard time about my apple fritter.  Today I thought that you might like to know about a development that occurred yesterday.  The "Office Gangsta" bought some pastries for the group and "Cliff" pounced on them like a stray dog stumbling across a bowl of water in the desert.<br /><br />I was going to give him a hard time about it, but I decided to wait until he actually started eating one.  When he took his first bite I pounced on him.  The fury of Mattrix was unleashed and I called him out.<br /><br />When my speech about health and being harrassed about my food choices ended he had little to say.  His excuse was that he did cardio that morning and could afford to eat the desert.<br /><br />That's weak and I reject you completely.  Hello pot, meet kettle.<br /><span style="color:#ffffff">.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer">More diary entries available at http://deardiary.themullinsfamily.com</div>Mattrixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07983633090172763012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3629368195406209542.post-24603522108286506662009-01-13T09:08:00.000-08:002009-01-13T17:52:35.864-08:00How Not to Ask For Free FoodDear Diary,<br /><br />It all started when I was in junior high.  I arrived to the lunch room later than normal and my friends were just about finished eating their meal.  I did not want to miss out on a game of basketball so I threw away my whole lunch and ran outside with them.<br /><br />My Mom was a teacher in the same school and so all the teachers knew me because of my Mom.  Well, one of the teachers (to this day I still don't know who) saw me throw away my lunch without eating it and he/she told my Mom.  Tattle Tell!<br /><br />From that day on my Mom went on strike and refused to make my lunches going forward.  And the rest is history.  I am now a lazy person that hates to make lunches.  I know, Diary, I've got some deep-seeded issues.<br /><br />I know that I am lazy with lunch and so to help me not eat out so much I buy lunch stuff in bulk from Costco and store it at my desk at work.  "Cliff" has recently discovered that I leave a giant can of oatmeal at my desk.  Since then he has decided to invite himself over to help himself to a free breakfast.  At first I did not mind sharing because he ran out and he had never asked before.  But now he brings his giant, freakin' bowl over to me ever morning and asks for food.<br /><br />This morning I was enjoying a <a href="http://twitter.com/mattrixDOTinfo/statuses/1115984077">tasty treat</a> from Starbucks.  It's the first time I've had an apple fritter from Starbucks in who knows how long.  "Cliff" saw my apple fritter and thought it would be a good idea to make fun of my food choice.<br /><br />Uh, listen "Cliff."  Here's how not to ask for free food:<br /><br />1) Don't come over with your gigantic, 'roid-rage bowl looking for free food.<br />2) Don't tease me for eating an apple fritter when looking for free food.<br />3) Don't tell me what chemicals and/or ingredients are in my apple fritter if you're looking for free food.<br />4) Don't tell me what heart disease I'm going to get when you're looking for free food.<br /><br />Because, if you do...<br /><br />I might be inclined to tell you that you need to go see a proctologist to get my foot out of your a$$.<br /><span style="color:#ffffff">.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer">More diary entries available at http://deardiary.themullinsfamily.com</div>Mattrixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07983633090172763012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3629368195406209542.post-6828099995823752092009-01-12T09:14:00.000-08:002009-01-12T10:17:09.044-08:00Man With Many HatsDear Diary,<br /><br />We got a guy in the office that is going for the title "Man With Many Hats."  Most people know this type of person.  He's the kind of guy that has knowledge about every possible subject.  I could bring up a story about changing diapers and this guy, who has no kids, would have something to contribute to the story.<br /><br />Below are some of the "hats" that he has gone for and successfully collected:<br /><br />1) "Muscle Head."  Legitimately he's got this title because he's yoked out of his brains.  But what's funnier is if you bring up any topic about health he'll have some protein drink or diet recommendation for it.<br /><br />2) "Mr. Slow."  Not only does he drive like a grandma going to the market on Sunday morning, but it takes him forever to do work.  He needs a three-day lead in order to be only two days late.<br /><br />3) "Token Terrorist."  His family is from Afghanistan so we give him crap about that.  He's a good sport about it because he knows that he's not exactly "Mr. Racially Sensitive" himself.<br /><br />4) "Whore."  He will whore himself out to almost anything if he thinks he'll get paid enough.  One time we challenged him to eat 20 atomic-flavored buffalo wings from WingStop.  You say 20 buffalo wings, big deal.  Well, you should also know that these buffalo wings are so hot that the store will only sell you three of them at a time.  To everyone's surprise he ate them, but he could not feel his lips for a long time afterwards.<br /><br />5) "Cliff."  The most appropriate hat for this guy, though, is the postal hat of Cliff from the sitcom Cheers.  "Cliff," just like the character on Cheers, is the office know-it-all.  You could cite any fact, statistic or question and "Cliff" would chime in with something to add/remove/change.<br /><span style="color:#ffffff">.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer">More diary entries available at http://deardiary.themullinsfamily.com</div>Mattrixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07983633090172763012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3629368195406209542.post-46476723383370121682009-01-08T08:04:00.000-08:002009-01-08T08:45:07.173-08:00Back Off "Doc Brown"Dear Diary,<br /><br />Yesterday I did something that I have never done before at work.  I let a burst of rage get a hold of me and <a href="http://twitter.com/mattrixDOTinfo/status/1102563446">this happened.</a>  At the time, Diary, I was furious.  "Doc Brown" in addition to being super awkward also has obsessive compulsive disorder ("OCD") for data.<br /><br />♫ "You down with OCD (Yeah you know me)" ♫<br /><br />I have been assigned to be "Doc Brown's" apprentice for a project.  He is updating his model which projects future home price appreciation.  I have been tasked with finding information about all kinds of things like:<ol><li>Population counts</li><li>Median income</li><li>Median home value, and</li><li>Owner's equivalent rent by year back to 1987</li></ol>"Doc Brown" is so anal about data that when he requests something from me he overly dictates what he needs from me.  That's what caused me to burst out with rage yesterday.  He had the nerve to tell me how to calculate a weighted-average number.<br /><br />Gee, thanks "Doc."  I've been working with weighted-average numbers for like 12 years now, but sure, I could always use a refresher course.<br /><br />[Sits down in a classroom desk; and "Doc Brown" starts talking]<br /><br />Mattrix: "Uh huh, and then what happens oh great 'Doctor?'"<br /><br />[More "Doc Brown" chatter]<br /><br />Mattrix: "Really?  When I add 1 + 1 the molecular composition of the numbers fuse together to form a 2?  That is fascinating information."<br /><br />[Class dismissed]<br /><br /><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 228px; height: 274px;" src="http://img.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2008/03_01/GhostL0603_228x274.jpg" border="0" alt="" />I'm glad "Doc Brown" is too afraid to leave his house in Compton to come into the office.  Things would be a lot worse for me if he was here to personally show me how to pull the data.  I imagine he would want to reenact that pottery scene from "Ghost," but instead of clay he'd be holding my hands on the mouse and keyboard.<br /><span style="color:#ffffff">.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer">More diary entries available at http://deardiary.themullinsfamily.com</div>Mattrixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07983633090172763012noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3629368195406209542.post-48771325874976266072009-01-07T08:21:00.000-08:002009-01-07T08:40:20.791-08:00Who Ate My Pen?Dear Diary,<br /><br />Something atrocious happened to me and I'm going to need to seek counseling in order to cope with this.  During the Christmas break I could not find a pen of mine.  It was my "1 Year of Service" pen that I received from Downey Savings.  I like this pen not because it was a gift, but because it writes really well.<br /><br />I point out that it was a Downey Savings pen because I am the only one in the office that has such a pen.  I'm not talking about some generic Bic pen.  So when someone uses the pen it should be obvious to them that it is not theirs because they did not work at Downey for one year.<br /><br />Fast forward to yesterday (2.5 weeks later) I blurted out that I'm still upset my pen was gone.  I'm an overly organized person so I knew that someone took my pen.  Folks in the office did not believe me until we found the pen.<br /><br />We found it in the conference room destroyed.  An anonymous adult -- whom I'm now going to call a child -- ate my pen.  The rubber grip has teeth marks all over it and has even been torn from the chewing.<br /><br />Are you kidding me people?  I've got four kids all seven years and younger and they put stuff in their mouth all the time.  Do you know why they put stuff in their mouth?  BECAUSE THEY'RE CHILDREN!<br /><br />No one has confessed to eating my pen so I made a mini-poster and taped it to my wall for all to see and, hopefully, to bring public shame to some individual.<br /><br />It says, "Who ate my pen?  You're nasty!"  <a href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3400/3177374390_c6277b251a_b.jpg">Here's a picture.</a><br /><span style="color:#ffffff">.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer">More diary entries available at http://deardiary.themullinsfamily.com</div>Mattrixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07983633090172763012noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3629368195406209542.post-40244527704713536022009-01-05T09:10:00.000-08:002009-01-05T09:47:51.773-08:00Great Scott!Dear Diary,<br /><br />Today I'm going to introduce you to the good doctor.  He's not a medical doctor (MD), but rather a PhD, which I heard stood for "pretty horny dude."  But we'll save that for another time.<br /><br />Our office has contracted with a PhD to help us use economics to project future home price appreciation.  He's a good man, but typically the super smart are also super awkward.  Super awkward totally applies when dealing with this guy.<br /><br />I have been thinking of nicknames for the Doc, but I can't decide which one to use.  It's either going to be "White Steve Urkel" or "Doc Brown."<br /><br /><u><b>Reasons to Choose <a href="http://tinyurl.com/89n83t">"White Steve Urkel:"</a></b></u><br />1) He has the Urkel walk down pat.  His back is hunched in such a way that his lower abdomen sticks out.<br />2) When he hones in on you, he's annoying (think "Hi, laura").<br />3) His belt buckle is typically at or above his belly button.<br /><br />Here's a fashion tip, Diary.  If I ever buy you a book cover, never wear it above the equivalent of your "belly button."<br /><br /><u><b>Reasons to Choose <a href="http://tinyurl.com/9ljy8m">"Doc Brown:"</a></b></u><br />1) Easy.  His hair is white and uncombed like Doc Brown in the movie "Back to the Future."<br />2) Every now and then the good doctor will blurt something out similar to Doc Brown's, "Great Scott!"<br />3) All of his e-mails end with "Yours for Mathematics."<br /><br />One time, when he got excited at a meeting, he shouted a phrase so loud (I forget what it was) that I almost fell out of my chair.  Fortunately, I was not the only one that experienced it. Otherwise, I'd have <a href="http://deardiary.themullinsfamily.com/2007/07/embarrassing-moment-counter.html">an embarrassing moment</a> to share.<br /><br />As I write this Diary I'm leaning towards using "Doc Brown."  It seems like an appropriate nickname.  And, come to think of it, Doc Brown in the movie had trouble with the Libyans.  My version of "Doc Brown" has trouble with gangs.  He lives in Compton, which is another story all in itself.<br /><br />Yours for mathematics (but mostly for video games),<br />Mattrix<br /><span style="color:#ffffff">.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer">More diary entries available at http://deardiary.themullinsfamily.com</div>Mattrixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07983633090172763012noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3629368195406209542.post-76967887029833350092008-12-30T07:45:00.000-08:002008-12-30T08:08:37.040-08:00Meet "Literal Larry"Dear Diary,<br /><br />Did you notice that I highlighted the word "literally" in my post yesterday?  Good job, Diary.  I knew you had eagle eyes.<br /><br />Diary, I would like to introduce you to "Literal Larry."<br /><br />I call this guy "Literal Larry" because he feels that it is necessary to use the word "literally" in the most sentences possible.  His record, which is solely from the times I heard the word, is 13.  He said "literally" 13 times in one day.  That should be illegal.<br /><br />The other thing this guy does is he qualifies everything before he starts talking.  For example, he and I are having a conversation about some numbers.  Obviously, we are brain storming and none of the numbers are real.  "Literal Larry" feels that it is necessary to say something like, "I'm just making this up, but..."<br /><br />Listen dude.  I'm not going to hold you accountable to a number if we are having a brain storming session.  It's okay to use a fake mortgage balance of $100,000 instead of someone's real balance of something like $367,393.  It makes the math easier to use nice, round numbers.<br /><br />One day I'm going to throw his words right back at him.  I'm thinking something along the lines of, "I'm just making this up, but I literally want to kill you and bury you in a shallow grave if you say the word 'literally' again."<br /><br />Of course, I'm joking.  :)  But seriously.  :|  Stop it.  One day "Peet's Matt" might get a hold of you.  And if that happens then you'll be the feature clip on "When Animals Attack: Part 29."<br /><span style="color:#ffffff">.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer">More diary entries available at http://deardiary.themullinsfamily.com</div>Mattrixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07983633090172763012noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3629368195406209542.post-63783585640898643422008-12-29T11:02:00.000-08:002009-01-07T13:44:00.010-08:00I'm the Grammatical Barney Fife<img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 230px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPiyAjB_dJ7v6f2pyFWmenxiEAq2mdo5-EThkJ8lfCgbO7GV2gzuuc7lRsZ4lxS2KR7xe6Dh8S6W4SSuK3-_HIsOw4Ci2n2ixYzkDszRdaaPcHKKv9ykvPILqQ4bB3hFrq1-TuDfif1Gc/s320/BarneyFife.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285291866316016578" />Dear Diary,<br /><br />Effective December 17th at 3:20 PM I instituted a <a href="http://twitter.com/mattrixDOTinfo/status/1063820160">"Bad Grammar & Punctuation" policy.</a><br /><br />The policy is simple: use good/decent grammar and punctuation when you e-mail me.  If you e-mail me and I determine your e-mail has violated my policy then I will not respond to you for at least 30 minutes.<br /><br />The genesis for this policy was a poorly written e-mail to me from someone in the office.  This person constantly writes grammatically horrific e-mails and I am tired of it.  Not only are you asking me to do something, but you are making me do work to understand what work it is that you want me to do.<br /><br />For your viewing pleasure, Diary, I will post verbatim the e-mail that set me off:<blockquote>??? No I beez more confused---Is there any other codes in any of the other fields from the initial email otherwise I am thinking we need to get on the phone with them and find out how we can best organize checking what is going on (if possible) in the data---for delq accounts (it may not be because of the way it is gathered)</blockquote><br />Is this a sentence or a paragraph?  I can't tell because there is not one period (.) in it to help me understand.  I must have read this e-mail at least three times before I finally understood what this person was talking about.<br /><br />I better go Diary.  Ironically, I <a href="http://twitter.com/mattrixDOTinfo/statuses/1004310711">"literally"</a> just got an e-mail from this very person.  I need to go start his timer.<br /><br />Please note that this policy is not effective for anyone that controls:<ul><li>my employment status</li><li>my salary, or</li><li>my year-end bonus (if applicable)</li></ul><br /><br /><span style="color:#ffffff">.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer">More diary entries available at http://deardiary.themullinsfamily.com</div>Mattrixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07983633090172763012noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3629368195406209542.post-51745288214398020072008-12-18T20:15:00.001-08:002008-12-18T20:37:56.561-08:00Let's Meet for CoffeeDear Diary,<br /><br />Sup D?  I know it has been forever since I've talked with you.  As you might recall, on July 31, 2008 I left [...BEEP...] to start working for a new company.  What's interesting is that [...BEEP...] is now bankrupt too.  Just like Bankrupt [...BEEP...] is.  To date, that means I have worked for five companies all of which have gone bankrupt.<br /><br />On August 1, 2008 I started working for a private-equity firm (I have not come up with a fancy nickname for them yet).  I have been in observation mode for almost five months now and I think it is time to start sharing with you again.<br /><br />When would you like to start meeting again?  After Christmas?  Sounds good.<span style="color:#ffffff">.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer">More diary entries available at http://deardiary.themullinsfamily.com</div>Mattrixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07983633090172763012noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3629368195406209542.post-80477071138696463272008-07-31T07:41:00.000-07:002008-12-18T20:29:09.291-08:00So Long, Farewell, auf Wiedersehen, Good NightDear Diary,<br /><br />This is it Diary.  After this entry I will be packing you into one of my boxes and we will be moving onward.  When all is said and done, I will have worked for [...BEEP...] (I used it for old-times sake) for 1 year and 2 months.<br /><br />Here's a quick run down of yesterday and today's activities.<br /><br />1) "QC Ted" and I went to lunch.  He couldn't afford to pay for a meal out so I bought him lunch.  It's weird taking someone out to lunch because I'm leaving, but that doesn't matter.  I like "QC Ted."<br /><br />When we got back to the office he did give me a long (3-seconds) hug good-bye.  So if someone that knew me happened to be driving by at the time they would see me locked in an embrace with "QC Ted."<br /><br />2) My boss called and joked about how I should be glad that I am leaving because I work for someone that doesn't even take me out to lunch on my last day.  I laughed and said, "yeap." ;)<br /><br />3) This morning I'll be taking my boxes to the car and will be closing my checking account.  As soon as an employee stops working for the company they slap all kinds of "normal customer" fees on the account.  I'm not up for that.<br /><br />4) My exit interview is scheduled for noon.  I am still debating how much I should reveal to my boss about why I am leaving.  I guess it'll depend on how my boss grills me with the questions.  I'll be prepared if she draws first blood.<br /><br />It's been real and it's been fun, but I can't say that it has been real fun...<br /><br />...my next job, though...now that's going to be fun.<br /><span style="color:#ffffff">.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer">More diary entries available at http://deardiary.themullinsfamily.com</div>Mattrixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07983633090172763012noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3629368195406209542.post-4841004856265592112008-07-29T07:15:00.000-07:002008-07-29T07:41:48.528-07:00Are You Happy to See Me?Dear Diary,<br /><br />I need your help with something.  This might be hard for you to understand because you're a book and not human, but still I value your insight.<br /><br />We guys have a problem that women do not have to deal with.  And that is...uh...how do I say this?  We have a special tool that we carry around with us.  And it's a great tool.  We like the tool, but it causes havoc sometimes.  For example, in junior high and high school we had to hide our tool sometimes by strategically placing books as we walk around.<br /><br />Now that we're grown-up we have a bit more control of our tool, but the thoughts of junior high and high school still linger, and that is the problem I need help with.<br /><br />Guys, when wearing certain pants, experience the "tent effect."  For example, most of the pants that I wear to work create a "false tent" when I sit down.  Personally -- and I suspect other guys do too -- I find this awkward and I do not want to give off the impression that I am pitching a tent.<br /><br />It's even more awkward, though, to push down or poke your tent because then it just looks like you are playing with yourself, which we are not doing.  We are trying to make the tent go down.<br /><br />What would you do to solve this problem, Diary?  Should I staple my pants to my boxers?  Or use paper clips?  Please share your ideas.<br /><br />For now, when I meet someone and we sit down I say: "Hello, my name is Mattrix and I am not happy to see you."<br /><br /><span style="color:#ffffff">.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer">More diary entries available at http://deardiary.themullinsfamily.com</div>Mattrixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07983633090172763012noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3629368195406209542.post-30843302711548805522008-07-28T07:58:00.000-07:002008-07-28T08:12:26.035-07:00What's my age again?Dear Diary,<br /><br />Hang on...I want to turn <a href="http://www.last.fm/user/mattrix19">my iPod</a> on.<br /><br />Artist: Blink-182<br />Album: <a href="http://www.google.com/musicl?lid=7FoBialxx_K&aid=OsISE_qSP1D">Enema of the State</a> (1999)<br />Song: <a href="http://www.google.com/musics?lid=7FoBialxx_K&aid=OsISE_qSP1D&sid=24H-fP7_lxI">What's my Age Again?</a><br /><br />This is so great.  I learned last week that "Firestarter" is ADHD.  That's awesome because it explains a lot to me.  For instance, like why can she not keep her yapper shut for more than 15 seconds.  At <a href="http://twitter.com/mattrixDOTinfo/statuses/867529379">the meeting</a> where my boss showed me all the resumes she's gotten so far, "Firestarter" interrupted everyone at least once.<br /><br />I wish I knew this coming into this job.  That would have been good information to know so I can figure out how to deal with "Firestarter."  <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Attention-deficit_hyperactivity_disorder">Looking at Wikipedia</a>, ADHD is a neurobehavioral developmental disorder.  It typically presents itself during childhood, and is characterized by a persistent pattern of inattention and/or hyperactivity, as well as forgetfulness, <u>poor impulse control or impulsivity</u>, and distractibility.<br /><br />See that..."poor impulse control."  That's her.  Oh well, too little too late.<br /><br />I am, though, going to play Blink-182's song "What's my age again?" a lot more before I leave <strike>[...BEEP...]</strike> Downey.<br /><blockquote>And that's about the time she walked away from me<br />Nobody likes you when you're 23<br />And I'm still more amused by TV shows<br />What the hell is A.D.D.?<br />My friends say I should act my age<br />What's my age again?<br />What's my age again?</blockquote><span style="color:#ffffff">.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer">More diary entries available at http://deardiary.themullinsfamily.com</div>Mattrixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07983633090172763012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3629368195406209542.post-58592599557710341482008-07-24T08:13:00.000-07:002008-07-24T09:05:49.721-07:00No, Try Not, Do or Do Not...There Is No TryDear Diary,<br /><br />It appears that the niceties between my boss and I are starting to fade.  Yesterday I sent an e-mail to my boss' secretary asking her for some copies of minutes from various meetings.<br /><br />I am trying to get the second quarter Sarbanes-Oxley ("SOX") testing done before I leave because I think that would be nice.  The testing is not due until mid-August so I probably could blow it off if I tried.  I feel guilty doing that so I am working as hard as I can to get it done.<br /><br />Check out the e-mail conversations below.  What would your reaction be?<br /><blockquote>From: Mattrix<br />To: Boss' Secretary<br />CC: Boss<br /><br />Hello.  I'm trying to get the 2Q08 SOX testing done before I leave.  Can you help me get copies of the documents listed below related to Q2 2008?<br /> <br />1) Audit Committee Meeting Agenda<br />2) IAR Meeting Notes<br />3) Minutes of Audit Committee</blockquote><br />An hour later I get an e-mail back from my boss.<blockquote>From: Boss<br />To: Mattrix<br /><br />Your use of the word "trying" makes me uncomfortable.  Can you make a commitment?  Thanks.</blockquote><br />Immediately I did not like this e-mail.  Who talks like that?  Normal people say things like, "I am trying to get such and such done."  That's how people talk.  I am not Robin Hood.  If I were I would have said, "If it were pleasing in thy lady's eyes, please allow me to commit myself to the completion of me lady's kingdom of reports."<br /><br />If I am going to bust my butt getting SOX testing done for this defunct department then I do not deserve to be talked to like this.  So with great pleasure I fired back an e-mail to my boss.<blockquote>From: Mattrix<br />To: Boss<br /><br />"Trying" refers to the fact that I am dependent on others for their reports and tests.  If I get everything I need in time I'll get it done before I leave.</blockquote><br />I am not going down for this because "Firestarter," "Cryor," and "Wall Knocker" do not give me their crap on time.<br /><br />Who does she think she is with this "trying" bit, Yoda?<br /><span style="color:#ffffff">.</span><strong></strong><div class="blogger-post-footer">More diary entries available at http://deardiary.themullinsfamily.com</div>Mattrixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07983633090172763012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3629368195406209542.post-40601835268559626972008-07-22T07:48:00.000-07:002008-07-22T08:04:08.223-07:00The OdorDear Diary,<br /><br />Today is the day after the day I gave notice.  It is a weird feeling.  I am excited to leave Downey Savings (a.k.a. [...BEEP...]) and move on to <strike>other</strike> better things, but I have so much material left to write about.  What should I do about that?  Maybe I'll keep writing after I am gone.<br /><br />Over a year ago I complained about the office <a href="http://deardiary.themullinsfamily.com/2007/07/respond-at-your-earliest-convenience.html">"Stank Factor."</a>  Briefly, it outlined people taking walks around the bay and coming back to the office hot and smelly.  I even made a <a href="http://www.themullinsfamily.com/stankfactor.jpg">chart.</a><br /><br />I am writing to let you know that yesterday I contributed to the Stank Factor.  In fact, I am going to take it a step farther and say that I was beyond stank; I was rank.  I went running last Friday and put my sweaty clothes in my gym back.  Over the weekend I intended to wash everything, but I forgot.  Even worse is that I thought that I did wash the clothes.<br /><br />I got to work on Monday and started getting ready for my run only to be slapped in the face with a horrible locker room odor.  It was vile.  Did I shove the clothes back into my back and forgo the run?  Of course not; I am a dude and dudes do dumb things.  I convinced myself that no one would notice.<br /><br />Walking out of my office (that is where I change by the way) I walked past "CCL."  As I did, though, I noticed that she snickered and covered her nose.  This is no coincidence; she got a big whiff of nasty Mattrix.  I walked even faster out of the office and took the elevator down.  I did not take the normal elevators too.  I took the freight elevator.<br /><br />"CCL" and I don't talk about "The Odor," but the looks on her face are enough to make me feel embarrassed.  So you know what that means...<br /><br />[CLICK x1][<a href="http://deardiary.themullinsfamily.com/2007/06/dear-diary-faqs.html#terms">?</a>]<br /><br />Embarrassing Moment Counter Total: <a href="http://deardiary.themullinsfamily.com/2007/07/embarrassing-moment-counter.html">6</a><br /><span style="color:#ffffff">.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer">More diary entries available at http://deardiary.themullinsfamily.com</div>Mattrixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07983633090172763012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3629368195406209542.post-69121518100551344862008-07-21T07:40:00.000-07:002008-07-21T08:00:44.642-07:00[...BEEP...] Is RevealedDear Ms. [Boss Lady]:<br /><br />This is to inform you that I am resigning from Downey Savings. My last day will be Thursday, July 31st.<br /><br />My experiences here have helped me define my goals, and I have accepted an associate position with Cerberus Capital.<br /><br />Thank you for all your help. Please be assured that I will do all that I can to help during my departure.<br /><br /><br />Sincerely,<br />Matthew D. Mullins<br /><br /><br />CC: Human Resources<br /><span style="color:#ffffff">.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer">More diary entries available at http://deardiary.themullinsfamily.com</div>Mattrixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07983633090172763012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3629368195406209542.post-75060345435950616872008-07-18T08:56:00.000-07:002008-07-18T09:00:10.346-07:00Friday FunDear Diary,<br /><br />Today's Friday fun is an experiment.  [...BEEP...] allowed us to wear jeans today so I decided to have some fun.  I am wearing a Bankrupt [...BEEP...] shirt.  Do you think anyone will notice?  And if they do, will they say something to me about it?<br /><span style="color:#ffffff">.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer">More diary entries available at http://deardiary.themullinsfamily.com</div>Mattrixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07983633090172763012noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3629368195406209542.post-56310253315970610032008-07-16T08:06:00.000-07:002008-07-16T08:15:32.769-07:00All That and a Bag of ChipsDear Diary,<br /><br />I am furious right now.  I have a 9:00 AM deadline and my SQL server has been shut down.  I would like to assume that there was a problem and the server is rebooting, but that does not appear to be the case.  After a call to I.T. I have come to the conclusion that incompetence is the culprit here.<br /><br />Some schmuck in I.T. decided to take the server down for "processing and maintenance."  What!?!  When I challenged that decision I got a stick-up-their-butt answer.  They tried to outwit me with their buzzwords.<br /><br />Listen here you ITT Technical Institute graduate.  I've been working with SQL servers for 10 years now and I think I know when a good time and bad time to shut down a server is.  Professor Smith in your Bryman College class Server 101 should have told you to never shut down a server during business hours.  Do you think the server sleeps at night like we do?  It was built to do work at night.<br /><br />Morons!  You think you're all that and a bag of chips because you play World of Warcraft and know what a SANS drive is.  Well guess what?  I like to play James Bond video games and I'm an expert with the sniper rifle.  You best respect my A game.<br /><br />Peace out.<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://www.themullinsfamily.com/dd2go_20070620.jpg"><img src="http://www.themullinsfamily.com/dd2go_20070620.jpg" width="320"/></a></p><br /><span style="color:#ffffff">.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer">More diary entries available at http://deardiary.themullinsfamily.com</div>Mattrixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07983633090172763012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3629368195406209542.post-52740159638643613572008-07-10T09:13:00.000-07:002008-07-10T09:25:31.685-07:00Is This Your Best Idea?Dear Diary,<br /><br />We have reached the end of the quarter at [...BEEP...] and now everyone is frantically trying to get everything ready so we can announce our quarterly earnings.  The genius on the other side of the building (i.e., my boss' secretary) came up with a great idea.  We received an e-mail the other day from her that said:<br /><blockquote>Talked to [Boss] - It would be a good idea for everyone to carry their cell phones if you are away from your office. thanks!</blockquote><br />No really!?!  Actually, I prefer to use my cell phone as a paper weight in my office.  Why would I want to carry a mobile phone around with me?<br /><br />I would rather have my boss mandate that we staple ourselves to the chairs and not leave instead of beating around the bush.  Can you tell I have had enough of these <a href="http://deardiary.themullinsfamily.com/search/label/secretary">passive-aggressive e-mails?</a><br /><span style="color:#ffffff">.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer">More diary entries available at http://deardiary.themullinsfamily.com</div>Mattrixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07983633090172763012noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3629368195406209542.post-46559362281667153422008-06-27T08:02:00.001-07:002008-06-27T08:23:50.171-07:00Friday FunDear Diary,<br /><br /><a href="http://deardiary.themullinsfamily.com/2008/06/stock-chart-or-intelligence-meter.html">Last week</a> I noted that [...BEEP...] started allowing casual Fridays.  I still suspect they are doing this to lift employee morale, so I have come up with some of my own casual Friday ideas.<br /><br />Below are three new recommendations for casual Fridays.  I've also included pictures to help you get the idea.<br /><br />1) Fix an REO Friday (<a href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3246/2615413240_30ea9205b4.jpg">see picture</a>)<br />2) Listen to '80s Music Friday (<a href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3030/2614584103_36c8fb7d6b.jpg">see picture</a>)<br />3) Rehabilitate Sick Animals Friday (<a href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3024/2615413308_17e3d9c36a.jpg">see picture</a>)<br /><br />I think it's safe to say we'll see our stock price start to go up after my ideas are implemented.<br /><span style="color:#ffffff">.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer">More diary entries available at http://deardiary.themullinsfamily.com</div>Mattrixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07983633090172763012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3629368195406209542.post-39849233841075840152008-06-26T08:02:00.000-07:002008-06-26T09:55:40.734-07:00Conference Call BloopersDear Diary,<br /><br />Recently I participated in a training session using WebEx for the slide presentation and I dialed into a conference call for the audio portion of the training.  I had no problems logging and dialing in to the training.  Some others at [...BEEP...], though, did have some problems.<br /><br />First, we had the person that somehow managed to log into the WebEx training platform six times.  Is that even possible?  The best part -- and it's always the best part when computer users say this -- was when the user said, "I don't know what's happening.  I didn't do it."<br /><br />Excuse me?  Do you not know how computers work?  You type in commands and the computer executes those commands for you really fast.  It's most likely a user error (see <a href="http://deardiary.themullinsfamily.com/2007/10/user-error.html">this</a> for a fun laugh).  Dork.<br /><br />Next, and this cracks me up the most, is when people dial in to conference calls.  When you dial into the conference call an automated voice tells you something to the effect of, "You are the 15th caller on the line."<br /><br />Okay folks.  When you hear that you are the 15th caller should you assume that you are on the call by yourself?  Good, no you shouldn't.  So then why do you talk on the phone to others like you are the only one on the line?<br /><br />I heard two guys talking about their weekend and planning lunch after the training was done.  I heard a woman complaining to herself why she has to be a part of this stupid training.  And I heard someone with a cold sneezing and coughing for the entire training session.<br /><br />For some reason when people get on conference calls all common sense fly's out the window.  It's as though people forget how phones work; you speak and the spirally wires shoot your voice to the other end of the phone.  C'mon people!  Use common sense.  Better yet, use the mute button!<br /><span style="color:#ffffff">.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer">More diary entries available at http://deardiary.themullinsfamily.com</div>Mattrixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07983633090172763012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3629368195406209542.post-20415469068472415062008-06-24T08:44:00.000-07:002008-06-24T08:55:24.502-07:00It Rhymes With a Female Body PartDear Diary,<br /><br />I've gotten to know a lady slowly by bumping into her in our office's kitchen.  We are on the same coffee drinking schedule and slowly started to chit-chat.  About a month into this, I realized that I had not yet introduced myself to her.  Yet she knew my name and I was not quite sure what her name was.  I've heard other people say a name, but I never felt comfortable that it was really hers.  I feel like my real life is acting out a Seinfeld episode.<br /><br />Do you remember the <a href="http://www.stanthecaddy.com/mulva-delores.html">episode</a> where Jerry dates a woman and tries to find out her name, which rhymes with a female body part?  That's me, Diary.  Every time I see this woman the fear of saying the wrong name pops into my head.<br /><br />I keep wanting to say, "Good morning, Melva."  But I fear that "Mulva" will slip out just like Jerry tried.  I'm going to need to figure out a way to get that episode out of my head before the next time I see Melva.<br /><span style="color:#ffffff">.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer">More diary entries available at http://deardiary.themullinsfamily.com</div>Mattrixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07983633090172763012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3629368195406209542.post-81658736522862828322008-06-23T08:21:00.000-07:002008-06-23T08:47:00.279-07:00Trippin' on Taco BellDear Diary,<br /><br />Last week I went to Taco Bell for lunch and I did something I rarely, ever do.  I changed my order.  I'm a guy that when he knows something works he sticks to it.  My Taco Bell order has not changed in 5+ years, but for some reason I changed it.  The result?  I was trippin' on Taco Bell.<br /><br />I'm not a scientist, but I do play one on TV.  And I think my experience is attributable to the new menu items I ordered.  Either they had "special mushrooms" in it or I was poisoned by the <a href="http://www.fda.gov/oc/opacom/hottopics/tomatoes.html">salmonella outbreak in the tomatoes.</a>  Below is a list of the things I noticed:<br /><br />1) The music was quiet.  Normally this Taco Bell likes to <a href="http://twitter.com/mattrixdotinfo/statuses/806623629">blast the music.</a><br /><br />2) A guy walked in with a girl hanging all over him.  They were being all <a href="http://www.stanthecaddy.com/schmoopy.html">schmoopy</a> with each other.  The reason why I was watching this guy is because he looked exactly like me, but he was FAT!  A scary sight.  I got down on the ground and did a few crunches for good measure.<br /><br />3) I saw the world's ultimate wedgie.  This woman's jeans were so tight I could not see a single thread of fabric where her seam should have been.  Take a look at <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/mattrix19/2604649184/">this picture.</a>  You see that seam there (inside the yellow box)?  It was completely engulfed by her fleshy seat cushions.  And you're eating lunch at Taco Bell?  I got down again, but this time I did some glut squats.<br /><br />4) A woman brought in a Diet Coke can to Taco Bell.  What!?!  That's heresy.  Taco Bell is a Pepsi only environment.  Get that trash out of here.<br /><br />5) Sitting in a booth, I eat my lunch.  The booth in front of me was empty until a guy sat down.  What's weird though is he sat down facing me.  Everytime I looked up from taking a bite of food we would lock eyes.  Creepy.  Who sits in a booth facing the person next to you?  Every bite of my burrito felt awkward.<br /><br />And there you have it Diary.  My trippin' Taco Bell lunch.  I don't know if I can handle another lunch like that.  My mind absorbed everything I saw and heard.  I'm going to switch back to my normal menu items next item.<br /><span style="color:#ffffff">.</span><strong></strong><div class="blogger-post-footer">More diary entries available at http://deardiary.themullinsfamily.com</div>Mattrixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07983633090172763012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3629368195406209542.post-2442882990981872222008-06-20T07:48:00.000-07:002008-06-20T08:09:15.146-07:00Friday Funtastic Funtime Happy HourDear Diary,<br /><br />I'M "PEET'S MATT!"[<a href="http://deardiary.themullinsfamily.com/search/label/%22Peet%27s%20Matt%22">?</a>]  I LOVE PEET'S COFFEE!<br /><br />Observation.  I have so much energy I parked my car on the freeway and ran the rest of the way to work.<br /><br />Observation.  I can't feel my fingers and toes.<br /><br />Observation.  Oh, look at me.  I'm a big, tough man because I put giant holes in my ear lobes.  Oh, look at me.  I'm from Australia and I pretend to live in an Aboriginal village.<br /><br />Observation.  When the real Matt sees a fat woman he keeps walking.  When "Peet's Matt" sees a fat woman he asks, "When is your baby due?"<br /><br />Observation.  I think I just pooped my pants.<br /><br />Signed,<br />"Peet's Matt"<br /><br />P.S. Don't tell the real Matt I wrote this.<br /><br /><span style="color:#ffffff">.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer">More diary entries available at http://deardiary.themullinsfamily.com</div>Mattrixhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07983633090172763012noreply@blogger.com1