Rarefied Air

I work in the same building as Bob*. Every morning, Bob and I have a task to do. Bob's portion of the task was previously performed by a person of a lesser skill level (in other words, a trained monkey could do it). Bob feels that this task is beneath him, therefore, he tries to hurry through it, and does a half-a**ed job. Did I mention that Bob is very anal? His portion of the job he doles out in a very ordered manner. My portion? It's all over the place. For some reason, Bob doesn't like me (can you tell the feeling is mutual?), so he tries to make my part of the job as difficult as possible. It's like being back in second grade. I passed that one a long time ago!

So what do you do when someone thinks their stuff don't stink? Me, I spray a little perfume their way.

Persevere.
*not his real name

Where Do I Begin?

Welcome. Sit back, take your shoes off, and join me in what I hope will be an entertaining ride.

This is a whole new experience for me, so bear with me while I try to navigate the murky waters of blogitude. I know virtually nothing about how this works, or how to make it look nice, but I'm willing to learn as I go. (Any new tricks you might have up your sleeve to help me figure this out will be greatly appreciated.)

I've been lurking around Blogville for quite some time, and finally decided to try it for myself. I hope you'll enjoy the ride. But please be sure to keep your feet and hands inside until we come to a complete stop.