My First World Problems
Today was a day.
Let's just start.
DIRECTIONS
I am horrible at directions. Horrible. Taking them, following them, telling them. Every single time I step out of the elevator to go to my office I turn the wrong way, without fail. It's almost like a Derek Zoolander can't turn left type of issue. Although I will admit that 87% of the time I push the elevator button I always stand at the elevator bank that opens. I'm an idiot savant like that. *wink, fist to chin*
Today I had an 1 PM work appointment in downtown LA. I was told which underground garage to park in but not what building to go to. I got there with 15 minutes to spare. I then proceeded to get lost in the parking garage...for 10 minutes. I couldn't reach surface for the life of me. I somehow ended up two levels lower than from where I parked. I kept following signs for the elevator and escalators but it seemed that there were in fact no elevators or escalators. I blacked out and somehow finally reached the surface and civilization. I looked directly across the street and there was a building that could have quite possibly been the one I needed. I called my co-worker who was going to be late and was stuck in traffic to confirm. I was told that the building was on another street than the one I was on. I was then given walking directions to get to the building. To me the directions sounded like this:
"Go through the mall, down the stairs, then go up the stairs then you are going to go down stairs, once you get upstairs there will be a building across the street, go down the stairs, cross the street then turn rightleft (I swear that is what I heard) It's right there. You've been there before."
I was given our point of contact's number so I could call her to come get me from the lobby, and told her name was Michelle. I then proceeded to follow the directions as I heard them in my brain. I went through the mall, then up some steps, then down some more steps, then I think I went up some more steps, then I somehow made a right somewhere and ended up where I was initially. I was starting to get anxious and it was hot out and I don't dress for the weather, I dress for the coldness in my office. I was on a street and just started walking. I ended up walking through a Farmers Market and then stopped out front of the LAPD to cool down in the shade because I started to sweat. Yeah, I sweat, it's not a secret, and I sweat an abnormal amount. I'm not ashamed, get over it. Okay I was ashamed now because it was starting to drip and this office was much more professional than the ones I'm used to being in. I decided to call Michelle and just ask her how to get there. I called and she didn't pick up but her voicemail did and the woman on the message said "Hi, you have reached Flora." Wrong name, no idea what building it is and SO MUCH SWEAT. I decided to not move and just blend in and pretend like I belonged at the LAPD so I could possibly calm down the sweat. It didn't work. I finally call Flora back and she answers and I ask what building it is. She gives me the address, I tell her I'll call her when I'm in the lobby. I get off the phone, determined to get my bearings and get to my destination, like a warrior. I look caddy corner to the block I'm on and see it. I curse myself, because I have been at the building, numerous times. I get in, go through security and I see my co-worker who was about 20 minutes away when we talked standing there. We get escorted up and I'm still dripping with sweat, like visible sweat, like I'm 500 pounds and have been in a sauna. We get into this office that is super white collar, quiet, professional and I'm shaking hands with people in ties and pant suits intermittently trying to discreetly wipe my temples between shakes. It was like my temples had a tiny puncture hole and there was a slow leak of swear. An hour later when I dried up I looked like a drowned rat and smelled like one too. I know because I once drowned a rat... for fun. I'M SUPER WELL ADJUSTED.
I can't even get into how I had to drop someone off at Union Station, somehow missed the on ramp to the 101 and drove around so absentmindedly that I ended up in Skid Row where a man wearing half a t-shirt, just half turned his back to me and bent down and stuck his butt out at me. I can't.
hashtag firstworldproblems
MY NAME IS CHANDRA
My name is Chandra...not Chan-dra, not Chundra, not Candra, Chandra. Sure it sounds like Shan, but this is 2014 there are plenty of people with that name. It's starting to get old when people need to know my name and spell it incorrectly.
This is how my name was spelled when I ordered my breakfast this morning:
This was how it was spelled for lunch:
This is how it was spelled for dinner:
SUCCESS
Hashtag firstworldproblems
Let's just start.
DIRECTIONS
I am horrible at directions. Horrible. Taking them, following them, telling them. Every single time I step out of the elevator to go to my office I turn the wrong way, without fail. It's almost like a Derek Zoolander can't turn left type of issue. Although I will admit that 87% of the time I push the elevator button I always stand at the elevator bank that opens. I'm an idiot savant like that. *wink, fist to chin*
Today I had an 1 PM work appointment in downtown LA. I was told which underground garage to park in but not what building to go to. I got there with 15 minutes to spare. I then proceeded to get lost in the parking garage...for 10 minutes. I couldn't reach surface for the life of me. I somehow ended up two levels lower than from where I parked. I kept following signs for the elevator and escalators but it seemed that there were in fact no elevators or escalators. I blacked out and somehow finally reached the surface and civilization. I looked directly across the street and there was a building that could have quite possibly been the one I needed. I called my co-worker who was going to be late and was stuck in traffic to confirm. I was told that the building was on another street than the one I was on. I was then given walking directions to get to the building. To me the directions sounded like this:
"Go through the mall, down the stairs, then go up the stairs then you are going to go down stairs, once you get upstairs there will be a building across the street, go down the stairs, cross the street then turn rightleft (I swear that is what I heard) It's right there. You've been there before."
I was given our point of contact's number so I could call her to come get me from the lobby, and told her name was Michelle. I then proceeded to follow the directions as I heard them in my brain. I went through the mall, then up some steps, then down some more steps, then I think I went up some more steps, then I somehow made a right somewhere and ended up where I was initially. I was starting to get anxious and it was hot out and I don't dress for the weather, I dress for the coldness in my office. I was on a street and just started walking. I ended up walking through a Farmers Market and then stopped out front of the LAPD to cool down in the shade because I started to sweat. Yeah, I sweat, it's not a secret, and I sweat an abnormal amount. I'm not ashamed, get over it. Okay I was ashamed now because it was starting to drip and this office was much more professional than the ones I'm used to being in. I decided to call Michelle and just ask her how to get there. I called and she didn't pick up but her voicemail did and the woman on the message said "Hi, you have reached Flora." Wrong name, no idea what building it is and SO MUCH SWEAT. I decided to not move and just blend in and pretend like I belonged at the LAPD so I could possibly calm down the sweat. It didn't work. I finally call Flora back and she answers and I ask what building it is. She gives me the address, I tell her I'll call her when I'm in the lobby. I get off the phone, determined to get my bearings and get to my destination, like a warrior. I look caddy corner to the block I'm on and see it. I curse myself, because I have been at the building, numerous times. I get in, go through security and I see my co-worker who was about 20 minutes away when we talked standing there. We get escorted up and I'm still dripping with sweat, like visible sweat, like I'm 500 pounds and have been in a sauna. We get into this office that is super white collar, quiet, professional and I'm shaking hands with people in ties and pant suits intermittently trying to discreetly wipe my temples between shakes. It was like my temples had a tiny puncture hole and there was a slow leak of swear. An hour later when I dried up I looked like a drowned rat and smelled like one too. I know because I once drowned a rat... for fun. I'M SUPER WELL ADJUSTED.
I can't even get into how I had to drop someone off at Union Station, somehow missed the on ramp to the 101 and drove around so absentmindedly that I ended up in Skid Row where a man wearing half a t-shirt, just half turned his back to me and bent down and stuck his butt out at me. I can't.
hashtag firstworldproblems
MY NAME IS CHANDRA
My name is Chandra...not Chan-dra, not Chundra, not Candra, Chandra. Sure it sounds like Shan, but this is 2014 there are plenty of people with that name. It's starting to get old when people need to know my name and spell it incorrectly.
This is how my name was spelled when I ordered my breakfast this morning:
This was how it was spelled for lunch:
This is how it was spelled for dinner:
SUCCESS
Hashtag firstworldproblems
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