Worried About Pen Supply

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It’s customary at EA for each worker to be resupplied on pens once every month, with each of us receiving ten black pens, ten blue ones and three red ones. I don’t like blue pens, so I trade mine with Corey Stuart in marketing for his black ones. I have the utmost respect for Corey, and don’t mean to get him in trouble for this breach of (implied) policy. After doing a bit of math, I’m a little bit worried. In a normal month, I don’t actually use up my full supply of red pens, but I’ve also noticed they tend to dry up faster than my black ones–the system seems to be set up such that each of us accrues a surplus of red pens to use in months where red pens become more  necessary, but in the eventuality that all the pens dry up, we could reach a situation in which I don’t have enough red pens to complet my work inside a single month.

This would entail requisitioning more pens using the standard EA89-5 form, which is all well and good, though I’m leery to stick my neck out to request more pens lest someone higher up come to the conclusion that I am attempting to lead a pen-revolution. I’ve sent an email to John Riccatello about this issue, but he hasn’t responded yet, which is making me worried–I hope he isn’t mad at me for asking stupid questions, even though I wouldn’t think so low of him as to assume he was quick to anger–I just worry that maybe I am a stupid person who does, in fact, ask stupid questions. I hope that isn’t true. That would make me sad.

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Lady at Reception is Intimidating

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I find the new lady at the reception desk, just beyond the twelve-foot pillar of LCD screens in the front lobby to be very intimidating. I do not know her name because if I tried to look at her nametag, I’m afraid she might think I was a pervert for looking at her chest, and I’m not. I accidentally made eye contact last week, and broke into a cold sweat. Her eyes were so blue that they distracted me for the rest of the day and kept me from concentrating on the AI routines I was working on. Her mere presence makes it difficult to work: how could  I create such inherently flawed  pieces of software when a creature of such astounding perfection walks the halls of the campus. I don’t mean to imply I’m sexist: I love all women … in a strictly platonic capacity for the most part … I’m just so intimidated that I don’t know what to do.