Posted by Holly Witchey on Friday May 16 2008
I’m old. I’m grumpy. I’m tired. I still look fabulous though.
I’ve got ideas for ideas for drafts of dozens of posts. In the past few months I’ve been on the road to Fort Lauderdale, Toronto, Cozumel, Sarasota, Montreal, Denver, and New York City–most of these trips were business-related and generated ideas for posts with titles like: ”Museums and Web 2:0: It’s A Lot More Fun than What We Ought to Be Doing,” “Open Source, Open Eyes, Open Conversations,” “How Do Solve a Problem Called Museums,” “If It’s Not Free and It’s Not Cheap and It’s Not Easy, Why Are We Doing It,” “If It is Free, and It Is Cheap, and It Is Easy Do We Have to Do It,” “What do you mean you aren’t going to digitize it?” “Hey It’s Only Our Cultural and Intellectual Heritage, Who Cares?”
But I’m not writing any of those because real life has gotten in the way of my academic and idealistic concerns.
Let’s take this past Wednesday…there I was smack dab in the middle of two days of web site envisioning when I woke up Wednesday morning, bright and early, at 6 am to wake up my son and start him on the long…..arduous journey of getting ready for school. Normally I am the first person down in the kitchen to start the coffee but, for whatever reason, my son beat me downstairs. I knew he was down there but with no lights on in the kitchen I wandered sleepily into the family room to find him curled up on the couch with a blanket over his head.
I asked him if he’d gotten any breakfast and he briefly put his head above the blanket and muttered “Look at the kitchen table.” I turned on the lights in the kitchen and to my dismay (okay that’s a mild word for my response) saw evidence of RATS. Not little tiny cute fuzzy mice. Freakin rats the size of small pumas had been at work in my fruit bowl, the cat food (in plastic containers), and anything else remotely edible. So instead of making coffee and drinking it in the normal 10-15 minutes I have in the morning. I cleaned and scrubbed and shuddered and worried (the whole invasion seems perhaps to have something to do with the leak in the water main leading from the house which is going to require the digging up of the landscaping in my front yard.)
So it isn’t until 7:45 that Prince Charming and I head off to take him to school–a 25 minute trip which now needs to be accomplished in 20 minutes (includes driving 20 miles an hour through two separate school zones) or he will get his first demerit of the year. This is something that is not to be even spoken of and can’t happen. We made it in time, don’t ask me how, and from there I hop on the highway to get to downtown before the web site envisioning process starts at 9 am–this is a 30-40 minute drive at the best of times, rush hour is something else again.
At 8:55 I pull into the valet parking garage across the street from where I work. That sounds fancier than it is. I rush across the street in the opposite direction to grab coffee so I can survive the meeting without thinking about rats (BIG RATS IN MY KITCHEN) the whole time.
For a brief few hours it looks like the day is going to be normal….and then…
Mid-morning the facilitator asked me to present a brief overview of web stats just after lunch. Hmm, not prepared to do that but hey, I’m a professional, so I skip the catered lunch and head upstairs to my desk and then I think to myself, “Self, woudn’t it be useful for these folks if I also gave them some context by giving them the results the really useful survey Nik conducted last year on behalf of Media & Technology (http://musematic.net/?p=123)? And, Self, I bet if you call Nik, even though it’s three hours earlier there, he’ll be in the office and help you out.”
So, in a hurry and not thinking clearly, with my left hand I opened the contacts page of my outlook, and found Nik’s number at work. With my right hand I picked up the phone on my desk, stuck it up to my ear and held it there with my chin, and while looking at my computer screen and Nik’s number, I dialled “911.”
OMG
Expecting the dulcet tones of Nik Honeysett, imagine my surprise to be greeted with an anxious voice asking “911, what is your emergency?”
I explained to the nice 911 fellow there that he probably could not help me with my web stat issues. Hung up the phone. Bashed my head into my desk and called the real Nik Honeysett. Sigh. He and his faithful Ms. Moneypenny (aka Moira) provided me with the stats I needed and voila I was back off to the web envisioning.
If only that were the end of it….meanwhile…flash forward to the end of that very long work day….wandering back across the street to the garage, I paid my parking fee, and went up to the nice gentlemen in charge of retrieving automobiles. They asked me what kind of car I drove. I told them, and they said (oh so politely)…”next time I park there could I please remember to leave them my keys.”
That’s right kids. I, Holly Witchey, left my car in a major downtown valet parking garage and took my keys with me. What an idiot!
Meanwhile…Isaac the Rat Guy came by yesterday and spread the poison on around so I’m hearing fewer and fewer tiny paw-steps at night.
Just wanted you to know though that, like the rats,
I’M NOT DEAD YET!!!!














