The only agenda item my manager brought to the table at yesterdays branch meeting was the corporate produced memo about professional dress.
Today, I figure if always stand up straight, my button down collared shirt is long enough to cover the pockets and zipper of my pink jeans (that one person thought were linen slacks, don't hate).
The regional manager decides, after a week of threatening to be in our office, that today is the day.
I sit in my chair ALL MORNING so she can't possibly catch a glimpse of what are so obviously jeans pockets OR my open toed sandals (they have a moderate heel, but still).
Woman-ness is amazing in so many ways.
There are certain days however when all womanly parts can take a flying leap out my 15th story window.
Today, thanks to Aunt Flo and her always amazingly timed visits, was a day like this.
In an ibuprofen haze, I traipse through Target looking for a new outfit to wear.
Everything is XXXL. No Joke. If it wasn't a tent, it was maternity wear.
Even a dress would have been an improvement on my current situation, and since I have shaved this week, a skirt to match my dress shirt would have been worn out of the dressing room.
Somehow I refuse to pay $30 for a pair of ill-fitting AND off color anything, even if they would stay on without suspenders.
As I'm wondering why this had to be the week I cleaned out my car and the 5 pairs of shoes and 4 pair of pants and 3 gym outfits out of my backseat, I ponder the awesome coincidence of it all. Then curse under my breath at every step toward the Shout It Out stick of purse sized detergent that might get me out of this.
On my way I pass the lingerie.
"At least clean panties would be some improvement" and I continue with the internal Tazmanian Devil talk.
So, with the regional manager in the office, I come back from lunch, late, with my drive thru food in hand, in PJ pants.
Salvation comes in navy blue cotton with an M on the tag next to the $10 red sticker.
The day after the memo about professional dress in the office, and on the morning I cave to the call of the jeans, I end up this afternoon sitting Indian style in my chair in pants with an elastic waistband.
How is your Thank-Jebus-Its-Not-Monday turning out?
EDIT: I LOVE when Laurie comes back with an edit, and with the reading of all her most recent posts in a row this afternoon, she is part of the reason I needed to post today.
Also I must credit Mr. Techie, who is the reason for the post more directly as this started as an email to him. I thought he might get the fun of the corporate policy smackdown meaning just nothing to me when I dressed myself TWICE today.
And I will grace you all with a bit of why he is at the forfront of my workday thougthts, his reply:
Do you write poetry? You must at least keep a journal.
Though not one to have me giggling or falling out of my chair in a spasm of laughter, he DID manage to put a smile on my sourpuss face today, and for that I bombard his email DAILY.
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
Sunday, July 23, 2006
I'm Melting
I'm not kidding.
I woke up this morning at 8:45am for no reason except I was too hot to sleep.
This is after waiting until 1am to go upstairs last night because I refused to sleep on the couch.
Well, I was there all day and passed out from the heat three times, but shut up.
It was STILL.SO.FUCKING.HOT. at 1:30am that even in my heat induced coma, I couldn't actually sleep. To boot, my dog was panting enough to create a breeze of her own and I felt just awful about it. So I got the both of us cool towels to lay under. She appreciated it, but couldn't sit under a towel no matter what. I finally convinced her she didn't have to sleep with me and could hijack some floor space from T.
T got a new window sized AC unit from her sister who bought it when her central AC went out. After checking the electric bill (do we all remember what happened when Squeeky and K got heaters for their rooms??), she decided $15 a month was worth being comfortable in her room.
T came home last night at 11pm and reported it was 93* out. Its been dark for hours at this point ya'll. This isn't a sun vs. shade issue at 11pm. This may have been an accurate reading. Which means my house is holding onto however hot it was at 4pm and is ready to cool down to whatever it is outside.
93*.
OK. So its 1:30am, My Georgeous Girl has finally remembered the 4 times I marched her into T's room and said "stay. sleep. be happy my love." and throws T's door open. Well, this gets them all up. T takes a piss while I try to wrangle the two cats and two dogs back into her room before she gets back. T's room was 75* at that point. Her carpet shocked my feet with the cold. I am LIVID that she won't leave the door open, but I'll just take that towel soaked in cold water and sleep under that.
No big.
Until I wake up at 8:45am. T had to be at work at 8am. Both dogs are drooling puddles and panting while laying next to my box spring on the floor I call a bedroom set. I am rolling to the beat of their breathes. My skin has been sitting in a wet towel for 7 hours. The fan blades are click click click clicking against the box that contains them. My weekends usually entail sleeping til noon, taking a shower, puting on a bikini, tanning while reading a book or magazine, taking a dip in the pool, then thinking about all the stuff I could do but instead melting into the couch with a cool beverage and remote and hoping it chills enough to get up to my room at a reasonable time.
Yeah. So today I know the dogs will finally go downstairs and sleep on the tiles and I can get some shut eye. I roll the barely wet but still cool towel off me, roll over, and instantly know that the pillow is too hot to be comfortable. I roll the other way, pull a pillow from the bottom of the stack, and THAT one is also too hot to sleep on.
"Fuckity fuckin this is some bullshit ain't it FUCK" is the first sentance I uttered today.
The dogs instantly pop up and try to be excited to see me but can only muster a "hey, my mouth is wide open to pant not smile give me a fuckin break and help a hair covered beast out would ya!"
I let them outside. I decide to take a shower. I pull back the curtain, place my left hand on the oposite tile wall, lean in over the toilet to turn on the water, and nearly faceplant onto the spout because of that silly "hey this is fuckin hot I can't touch it any more so back the fuck off of it" reflex.
Thats right. At 9am, the tile of my shower wall was so hot my hand couldn't tell me it was scalding hot before jerking violently away from it.
FUCK.
My body is revolting against being boiled and I feel every orifice leaking out.
No, I didn't eat a narely mexican dinner that was left out.
No, Aunt Flo has decided this is an inhospitable environment and REFUSES to visit, though she dropped her bags off THURSDAY at lunch (just in time for me to call Mr. Lamer #2 and say "we had plans tonight, if its a party of three, do you still want me over?" Its SUNDAY. No Flo. What a bitch.)
Yes, I am drinking 20 oz of water every 90 minutes.
No, I haven't peed yet this weekend. Not. Kidding. Not. Funny. Tried drinking beer with the water to get SOMETHING to fill my bladder. I didn't drink fast enough (HAHAHAHAhahahaha) or I am THAT dehydrated from, um, SITTING ON THE COUCH all day yesterday.
So its now Sunday at 1:15pm. My internet at home has been down since T had the AC unit on with her computer and TV and DVD and 2 fans and decided to blow dry her hair (because her room is too cold to let it dry by itself) on TUESDAY. (C, I forgot to print your instructions - I was all "oh, my friend emailed me how to fix it, FUCK!!!". Its printed and in my purse right now, maybe we can avoid a service charge for tomorrow??)
I abandoned my Ever So Loving No Matter How Miserable She Is Gorgeous Girl after placing her kicking and screaming into the pool to sit on the top step (don't want to drown her and she is SHORT on those 5" legs). Her look to me said "what the fuck is the matter with you why am I in water you know I hate being in water and I look at you like your an idiot when you're in here why aren't you in here and why are you talking to me like I'M the one who is being stupid for trying to get out but fuck I'm too short and too long to get out on my own please stop splashing me and why can't I move this step is too narrow to do anything but take this torture you are SSOOOO not getting any kisses after this".
Thats about all I could take from her before fishing her 50 lbs out and watching the water evaporate instantaneously as she took two steps and quit dripping. I didn't even need a towel ya'll.
Fuck. Its. Hot.
It was 10am and already too hot to handle sitting outside.
So I've got her core tempurature mediated by the dip, gave her a rawhide to play with so she would plop down on her dog bed and sit under the fan for a bit (slick trick, I know, but it worked for me and I am TRYING to not come home to a heat stroked dog!), and I slip out the front door.
I drive to the office to get online.
I pretend I'll do the 5 hours of work I need to do to be caught up. I sit here blogging instead.
I realize have to go get an oil change, buy tampons, and attempt to get out of the grocery store with more than junk food. Maybe I'll still get into the bikini this weekend. If I'm going to be a sweat covered sloth, I might as well get the euphoria that only UV rays can provide. (I didn't just make that up, I read it in a magazine that made it up last month.)
Either that or I'll call T and have her dunk my Gorgeous Girl in the pool again and stay here and check the rentals online.
I mean really, my pup dog is awsome and I've moved 6 times with her so the "stay because the dog likes it" is a RETARDED logic because she couldn't sleep last night due to the heat and she'll be happy anywhere because she ROCKS like that.
What?? You KNOW this would be a lot more fun blog material. Move closer to a job I don't think I like, break in new roomies, wonder if I did the right thing, be closer to the havoc that has been my night life lately... and really, unless I go back to work at Cubeville (another plethra of blog material AND time to post it AND make bank), why would I stay in a house where my entire home life consists of wishing it was cool enough to do ANYTHING (laundry, budget, tweezing my eyebrows, crafts, dusting - none have been done in a month) while not talking to my roomies and hoping I don't have to wake up to them or their psycho boyfriends coming over at 2am.
Tangents. Can't help them. Love me anyway. And COMMENT please, especially if you have me on your blogroll Laurie, so I know you're here. My stat counter tells me how many stop by, not who you are. I need the love, my dog can't stand to sit with me these days!
I woke up this morning at 8:45am for no reason except I was too hot to sleep.
This is after waiting until 1am to go upstairs last night because I refused to sleep on the couch.
Well, I was there all day and passed out from the heat three times, but shut up.
It was STILL.SO.FUCKING.HOT. at 1:30am that even in my heat induced coma, I couldn't actually sleep. To boot, my dog was panting enough to create a breeze of her own and I felt just awful about it. So I got the both of us cool towels to lay under. She appreciated it, but couldn't sit under a towel no matter what. I finally convinced her she didn't have to sleep with me and could hijack some floor space from T.
T got a new window sized AC unit from her sister who bought it when her central AC went out. After checking the electric bill (do we all remember what happened when Squeeky and K got heaters for their rooms??), she decided $15 a month was worth being comfortable in her room.
T came home last night at 11pm and reported it was 93* out. Its been dark for hours at this point ya'll. This isn't a sun vs. shade issue at 11pm. This may have been an accurate reading. Which means my house is holding onto however hot it was at 4pm and is ready to cool down to whatever it is outside.
93*.
OK. So its 1:30am, My Georgeous Girl has finally remembered the 4 times I marched her into T's room and said "stay. sleep. be happy my love." and throws T's door open. Well, this gets them all up. T takes a piss while I try to wrangle the two cats and two dogs back into her room before she gets back. T's room was 75* at that point. Her carpet shocked my feet with the cold. I am LIVID that she won't leave the door open, but I'll just take that towel soaked in cold water and sleep under that.
No big.
Until I wake up at 8:45am. T had to be at work at 8am. Both dogs are drooling puddles and panting while laying next to my box spring on the floor I call a bedroom set. I am rolling to the beat of their breathes. My skin has been sitting in a wet towel for 7 hours. The fan blades are click click click clicking against the box that contains them. My weekends usually entail sleeping til noon, taking a shower, puting on a bikini, tanning while reading a book or magazine, taking a dip in the pool, then thinking about all the stuff I could do but instead melting into the couch with a cool beverage and remote and hoping it chills enough to get up to my room at a reasonable time.
Yeah. So today I know the dogs will finally go downstairs and sleep on the tiles and I can get some shut eye. I roll the barely wet but still cool towel off me, roll over, and instantly know that the pillow is too hot to be comfortable. I roll the other way, pull a pillow from the bottom of the stack, and THAT one is also too hot to sleep on.
"Fuckity fuckin this is some bullshit ain't it FUCK" is the first sentance I uttered today.
The dogs instantly pop up and try to be excited to see me but can only muster a "hey, my mouth is wide open to pant not smile give me a fuckin break and help a hair covered beast out would ya!"
I let them outside. I decide to take a shower. I pull back the curtain, place my left hand on the oposite tile wall, lean in over the toilet to turn on the water, and nearly faceplant onto the spout because of that silly "hey this is fuckin hot I can't touch it any more so back the fuck off of it" reflex.
Thats right. At 9am, the tile of my shower wall was so hot my hand couldn't tell me it was scalding hot before jerking violently away from it.
FUCK.
My body is revolting against being boiled and I feel every orifice leaking out.
No, I didn't eat a narely mexican dinner that was left out.
No, Aunt Flo has decided this is an inhospitable environment and REFUSES to visit, though she dropped her bags off THURSDAY at lunch (just in time for me to call Mr. Lamer #2 and say "we had plans tonight, if its a party of three, do you still want me over?" Its SUNDAY. No Flo. What a bitch.)
Yes, I am drinking 20 oz of water every 90 minutes.
No, I haven't peed yet this weekend. Not. Kidding. Not. Funny. Tried drinking beer with the water to get SOMETHING to fill my bladder. I didn't drink fast enough (HAHAHAHAhahahaha) or I am THAT dehydrated from, um, SITTING ON THE COUCH all day yesterday.
So its now Sunday at 1:15pm. My internet at home has been down since T had the AC unit on with her computer and TV and DVD and 2 fans and decided to blow dry her hair (because her room is too cold to let it dry by itself) on TUESDAY. (C, I forgot to print your instructions - I was all "oh, my friend emailed me how to fix it, FUCK!!!". Its printed and in my purse right now, maybe we can avoid a service charge for tomorrow??)
I abandoned my Ever So Loving No Matter How Miserable She Is Gorgeous Girl after placing her kicking and screaming into the pool to sit on the top step (don't want to drown her and she is SHORT on those 5" legs). Her look to me said "what the fuck is the matter with you why am I in water you know I hate being in water and I look at you like your an idiot when you're in here why aren't you in here and why are you talking to me like I'M the one who is being stupid for trying to get out but fuck I'm too short and too long to get out on my own please stop splashing me and why can't I move this step is too narrow to do anything but take this torture you are SSOOOO not getting any kisses after this".
Thats about all I could take from her before fishing her 50 lbs out and watching the water evaporate instantaneously as she took two steps and quit dripping. I didn't even need a towel ya'll.
Fuck. Its. Hot.
It was 10am and already too hot to handle sitting outside.
So I've got her core tempurature mediated by the dip, gave her a rawhide to play with so she would plop down on her dog bed and sit under the fan for a bit (slick trick, I know, but it worked for me and I am TRYING to not come home to a heat stroked dog!), and I slip out the front door.
I drive to the office to get online.
I pretend I'll do the 5 hours of work I need to do to be caught up. I sit here blogging instead.
I realize have to go get an oil change, buy tampons, and attempt to get out of the grocery store with more than junk food. Maybe I'll still get into the bikini this weekend. If I'm going to be a sweat covered sloth, I might as well get the euphoria that only UV rays can provide. (I didn't just make that up, I read it in a magazine that made it up last month.)
Either that or I'll call T and have her dunk my Gorgeous Girl in the pool again and stay here and check the rentals online.
I mean really, my pup dog is awsome and I've moved 6 times with her so the "stay because the dog likes it" is a RETARDED logic because she couldn't sleep last night due to the heat and she'll be happy anywhere because she ROCKS like that.
What?? You KNOW this would be a lot more fun blog material. Move closer to a job I don't think I like, break in new roomies, wonder if I did the right thing, be closer to the havoc that has been my night life lately... and really, unless I go back to work at Cubeville (another plethra of blog material AND time to post it AND make bank), why would I stay in a house where my entire home life consists of wishing it was cool enough to do ANYTHING (laundry, budget, tweezing my eyebrows, crafts, dusting - none have been done in a month) while not talking to my roomies and hoping I don't have to wake up to them or their psycho boyfriends coming over at 2am.
Tangents. Can't help them. Love me anyway. And COMMENT please, especially if you have me on your blogroll Laurie, so I know you're here. My stat counter tells me how many stop by, not who you are. I need the love, my dog can't stand to sit with me these days!
Monday, July 17, 2006
Oh the H.E. double hockey sticks with it.
Call me crazy, but when you've been up for 8 hours and the bestest part of your day was watching a fuzzball sway in the wind in the parking garage, perhaps its time to find a desk to crawl under and try again tomorrow.
The really awful part of that statement is that my weekend ROCKED!!!! Friday night on the town, courtesy breakfast to stave off aftereffects, nap in my bed before having the house to myself all day to watch movies and be a dork with the dogs and sing aloud and cook food and overall hide from the blistering heat outside followed by a leasurely Sunday morning before heading out to The Valley for a poetry reading by the author, an old family friend, and spending the rest of the day being a girl with my sister at an outlet shopping mall and a comp'd dinner at her place of work.
Somehow I thought if I were busy for the weekend, the work ethic would bleed into my work week. But Oh Haaaiiiiillllllll NO. Today is worse than ever!! Not that the muggy heat and my house would have me being any kind of productive. Not that its a major problem the AC is on so high in here that my triple padded booby bra is still letting the headlights shine through and sitting here is freezing my fingertips blue. I've met deadlines, taken notes at a meeting, done stuff, had breakfast energy drinks AND lunch... but somehow all that is calling to me (besides blog crawling, but I did that last night without the restricted access) is the foot rest under my desk.
Maybe new nylons aren't uncomfortable enough to keep me from thinking this outfit is more comfy than my PJs??? When I wear any that is.
Perhaps its that I got barked at first thing today and my inner adolescent is finally ready for her rebelious phase??
Perhaps its just that there is a lull in the office and its the hum drum mentality in the vents that is killing my appetite to work??
Heres the real rub. I went out to Happy Hour/lets run up his cards on top shelf shots all over town with this friend of a guy I guess I was dating last year. He is a year younger than me, covered in tatoos, has two kids by two mamas (didn't know that until the night was half over ya'll, give me a little slack), and makes TRIPLE the money I do by sitting at home 4 days a week and 'managing' the operations of a construction site via paperwork.
I sat in a restaurant and watched waitresses pick up $20 tips every hour. EVERY HOUR ya'll. How much of that do you think they declair on thier taxes??? How much you wanna bet their homes are nicer than mine (if they have two brain cells about them)?? I know our bartender was remodelling a house in the Valley - in 4 months she doubled its value and isn't in debt at all. She is paying for it with cash out of OUR pockets!!! And here I am deciding if anorexia is a good enough diet to start an IRA for, because I can't afford to save and eat at the same time.
Whhhhaaaaaaahhhhhhh!!!
Yeah, I'm whining. I'm a double major college graduate from a real university with a real campus and a real library to visit and its been 5 and a half years since I graduated and started in the work force and I am making less than my sister was at 18 years old and 3 months out of High School!!!
And the roomies are pissing me the fuck off. Its not them as people. Its them as roomies. And THAT pisses me off more than anything because I either have to euthenize my dog and live in a hovel of an apartment somewhere or find new (and possibly much MUCH worse) roomies to learn to deal with and then slowly (or quickly) despise.
So here I am, trying NOT to read the classifieds for roomies OR new jobs because neither are that bad AT ALL in the great scheme of things but somehow my mood and self worth have plummeted severly since I started accepting my house as where I live and accepting that moving up the ladder in an corporation will involve some growing pains AND I'VE BEEN LAID which pisses me off even more that it hasn't put me in a SUPER upbeat mood because now I have a trail of men who keep waiting for me to call but all I want to do is sit alone in a hole.
Fuck PMS and all its little symptoms. I'm blaming it on that, and I don't care what time of the month it is - this way I'll assume this fit of insufficiency will pass eventually and the sense of glee and wonderment at how sweet my life is will feel like normalcy instead of a break in the rainstorm my little black cloud keeps gifting me.
Someone told me to get on the pill to help regulate my moods - anyone got any advice on that particular topic?
The really awful part of that statement is that my weekend ROCKED!!!! Friday night on the town, courtesy breakfast to stave off aftereffects, nap in my bed before having the house to myself all day to watch movies and be a dork with the dogs and sing aloud and cook food and overall hide from the blistering heat outside followed by a leasurely Sunday morning before heading out to The Valley for a poetry reading by the author, an old family friend, and spending the rest of the day being a girl with my sister at an outlet shopping mall and a comp'd dinner at her place of work.
Somehow I thought if I were busy for the weekend, the work ethic would bleed into my work week. But Oh Haaaiiiiillllllll NO. Today is worse than ever!! Not that the muggy heat and my house would have me being any kind of productive. Not that its a major problem the AC is on so high in here that my triple padded booby bra is still letting the headlights shine through and sitting here is freezing my fingertips blue. I've met deadlines, taken notes at a meeting, done stuff, had breakfast energy drinks AND lunch... but somehow all that is calling to me (besides blog crawling, but I did that last night without the restricted access) is the foot rest under my desk.
Maybe new nylons aren't uncomfortable enough to keep me from thinking this outfit is more comfy than my PJs??? When I wear any that is.
Perhaps its that I got barked at first thing today and my inner adolescent is finally ready for her rebelious phase??
Perhaps its just that there is a lull in the office and its the hum drum mentality in the vents that is killing my appetite to work??
Heres the real rub. I went out to Happy Hour/lets run up his cards on top shelf shots all over town with this friend of a guy I guess I was dating last year. He is a year younger than me, covered in tatoos, has two kids by two mamas (didn't know that until the night was half over ya'll, give me a little slack), and makes TRIPLE the money I do by sitting at home 4 days a week and 'managing' the operations of a construction site via paperwork.
I sat in a restaurant and watched waitresses pick up $20 tips every hour. EVERY HOUR ya'll. How much of that do you think they declair on thier taxes??? How much you wanna bet their homes are nicer than mine (if they have two brain cells about them)?? I know our bartender was remodelling a house in the Valley - in 4 months she doubled its value and isn't in debt at all. She is paying for it with cash out of OUR pockets!!! And here I am deciding if anorexia is a good enough diet to start an IRA for, because I can't afford to save and eat at the same time.
Whhhhaaaaaaahhhhhhh!!!
Yeah, I'm whining. I'm a double major college graduate from a real university with a real campus and a real library to visit and its been 5 and a half years since I graduated and started in the work force and I am making less than my sister was at 18 years old and 3 months out of High School!!!
And the roomies are pissing me the fuck off. Its not them as people. Its them as roomies. And THAT pisses me off more than anything because I either have to euthenize my dog and live in a hovel of an apartment somewhere or find new (and possibly much MUCH worse) roomies to learn to deal with and then slowly (or quickly) despise.
So here I am, trying NOT to read the classifieds for roomies OR new jobs because neither are that bad AT ALL in the great scheme of things but somehow my mood and self worth have plummeted severly since I started accepting my house as where I live and accepting that moving up the ladder in an corporation will involve some growing pains AND I'VE BEEN LAID which pisses me off even more that it hasn't put me in a SUPER upbeat mood because now I have a trail of men who keep waiting for me to call but all I want to do is sit alone in a hole.
Fuck PMS and all its little symptoms. I'm blaming it on that, and I don't care what time of the month it is - this way I'll assume this fit of insufficiency will pass eventually and the sense of glee and wonderment at how sweet my life is will feel like normalcy instead of a break in the rainstorm my little black cloud keeps gifting me.
Someone told me to get on the pill to help regulate my moods - anyone got any advice on that particular topic?
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
Miss Tangent if Your Nasty
Again, this entry started as a reply email. This is literally how it went down:
I got the first comment on the last post (which was a reply gone awry), found the attachment I didn't want to find and save and link for all ya'llz, and started typing away.
I PROMISE it started innocently... "here it is, I think anytime I see a video with those little Chinese or Japanese characters along the bottom its about the coolest thing I've ever seen" (or whatever actually came out to you, Curmudgeon)... and then this started falling out of my fingers:
I got a few emails from Mr. Techie today... a bit of gab from the suddenly silent that got me through the thick of the maylay today. Only an hour left and I am chewing gum at the front desk (a major personal no-no law I'm breaking) in order to preserve the enamel of my teeth from being ground away in the process of giving myself TMJ. He was very nice to reply to the email titled "REAL WORK THIS TIME" with lightning speed, but to have him tell me to call in the trouble was a little frustrating... I told him flat out that I'd called the tech support line and gotten through the 3 minutes of hold time FIVE TIMES before emailing him all the details of the account I needed worked on AND exactly what I needed pushed through before the chick left our office and somehow he thought "you should call or email this one in, sorry" was a FANTASTIC reply to the person he once had an hour and a half conversation with "even though [he] usually isn't a talker, but somehow [I] am just that much fun to chat with".
Ok, he's busy and thats a bit unfair, but I have offered at least a handful of times for him to tell me to stop bypassing normal protocol by emailing him directly and he never tells me to back off so instead I get my girls in the office standing over my desk telling me that my charms must be wearing off because didn't I have that guy I could call and he would help me out Like.That.Every.Time and I have to try to email him my problem while explaining to them that the phones have been busy for the last 15 consecutive minutes and if I could get ANYONE in the 18 cubes (5 of which, according to Mr. Tech, are vacant right now) of Techies to pick up my incoming call I would surely ask if I could be transfered to my favorite Mr. there and have him fix the problem while I razz him about not having time enough for me anymore.
Just another afternoon in the life of Miss Sassy!
If only the computer would quite jerkin me around I might consider it all my inability to take other peoples rants about their day and toss them over my shoulder, but when I've got to plug in the keyboard in the middle of looking up info for a caller and the mouse gets lodged in the slidy shelf at just the right place for me to happen to hit all the "exit this program" keys on the way back into my chair and the left button clicks to delete the 45 labels I just spent 1.5 hours getting together... and as the fumes from that mishap clear from the 65* air that someone thinks is comfortable office tempurature but I happen to find about as frigid as open air camping in February I get today, the roomie calls to let me know that the water in the house has been turned off and the guy won't be back to start fixing the problem I BROUGHT TO THE LANDLORD/HER DAD'S attention a month ago (after it had been leaking since New Years when He noticed/wanted to fix it, but it is in HER house, the one where if we put a plant on the kitchen table it is liable to end up back on our bed) until 8am which wouldn't be such a problem since I can do a day without a shower (or go to Target and buy flip flops before going to the gym anyway and using their facilities) but 8am is exactly in the middle of my 'get ready for work' time and there will be a plumber HOPING I didn't have to take a shit in my own toilet for 12 hours and ALL UP IN MY STANKY SPACE while I try to have a somewhat normal morning.
47 minutes left in the day and counting.
Thanks to Laurie, I am all in the Shank mood (being Tuesday and all)... and being me, its all one long tangential schmorgesborg.
This is actually how the thoughts link in my head.
Bow to me, bask in my glow, try to keep up, reread if necessary, but never doubt that sometimes when someone is looking you right in the face and listening to you ask 'whats the matter?", it is possible that before they look up at you they have a thought that is something like: "just because you were an hour and a half late to meet someone in my office and then called me from the lobby and chewed my ass about how no one was helping distract her from your tardiness ALL THE WAY UP THE ELEVATOR and then you wouldn't let me do anything remotely close to my job because you somehow still didn't have your shit together and I had to do your prep work while you stood ON MY HEAD and corrected all my misclicks and mistappitytaps instead of going back to my other desk and taking it over so there is no way I can get any work done on the warm side of the building OR enjoy seeing the surface I spent an hour cleaning up this morning", in which case you might want to stop with the PDA play after they offer the "just workin" answer and pretend like you care when you pop off with "no, thats not it! where is your smile? whats wrong, really??" because there are still some people with enough brain cells left and enough food in their guts to be able to have this entire internal monolouge in the time it takes you to snap your gum.
Still bowing? no??? get your ass to yoga and learn how to hold a stretch, geeeezz.
Jose and I have a date, and maybe I'll be taking a morning swim to get his stench off me before I kung fu the plumber for mirror space in the morning.
I got the first comment on the last post (which was a reply gone awry), found the attachment I didn't want to find and save and link for all ya'llz, and started typing away.
I PROMISE it started innocently... "here it is, I think anytime I see a video with those little Chinese or Japanese characters along the bottom its about the coolest thing I've ever seen" (or whatever actually came out to you, Curmudgeon)... and then this started falling out of my fingers:
I got a few emails from Mr. Techie today... a bit of gab from the suddenly silent that got me through the thick of the maylay today. Only an hour left and I am chewing gum at the front desk (a major personal no-no law I'm breaking) in order to preserve the enamel of my teeth from being ground away in the process of giving myself TMJ. He was very nice to reply to the email titled "REAL WORK THIS TIME" with lightning speed, but to have him tell me to call in the trouble was a little frustrating... I told him flat out that I'd called the tech support line and gotten through the 3 minutes of hold time FIVE TIMES before emailing him all the details of the account I needed worked on AND exactly what I needed pushed through before the chick left our office and somehow he thought "you should call or email this one in, sorry" was a FANTASTIC reply to the person he once had an hour and a half conversation with "even though [he] usually isn't a talker, but somehow [I] am just that much fun to chat with".
Ok, he's busy and thats a bit unfair, but I have offered at least a handful of times for him to tell me to stop bypassing normal protocol by emailing him directly and he never tells me to back off so instead I get my girls in the office standing over my desk telling me that my charms must be wearing off because didn't I have that guy I could call and he would help me out Like.That.Every.Time and I have to try to email him my problem while explaining to them that the phones have been busy for the last 15 consecutive minutes and if I could get ANYONE in the 18 cubes (5 of which, according to Mr. Tech, are vacant right now) of Techies to pick up my incoming call I would surely ask if I could be transfered to my favorite Mr. there and have him fix the problem while I razz him about not having time enough for me anymore.
Just another afternoon in the life of Miss Sassy!
If only the computer would quite jerkin me around I might consider it all my inability to take other peoples rants about their day and toss them over my shoulder, but when I've got to plug in the keyboard in the middle of looking up info for a caller and the mouse gets lodged in the slidy shelf at just the right place for me to happen to hit all the "exit this program" keys on the way back into my chair and the left button clicks to delete the 45 labels I just spent 1.5 hours getting together... and as the fumes from that mishap clear from the 65* air that someone thinks is comfortable office tempurature but I happen to find about as frigid as open air camping in February I get today, the roomie calls to let me know that the water in the house has been turned off and the guy won't be back to start fixing the problem I BROUGHT TO THE LANDLORD/HER DAD'S attention a month ago (after it had been leaking since New Years when He noticed/wanted to fix it, but it is in HER house, the one where if we put a plant on the kitchen table it is liable to end up back on our bed) until 8am which wouldn't be such a problem since I can do a day without a shower (or go to Target and buy flip flops before going to the gym anyway and using their facilities) but 8am is exactly in the middle of my 'get ready for work' time and there will be a plumber HOPING I didn't have to take a shit in my own toilet for 12 hours and ALL UP IN MY STANKY SPACE while I try to have a somewhat normal morning.
47 minutes left in the day and counting.
Thanks to Laurie, I am all in the Shank mood (being Tuesday and all)... and being me, its all one long tangential schmorgesborg.
This is actually how the thoughts link in my head.
Bow to me, bask in my glow, try to keep up, reread if necessary, but never doubt that sometimes when someone is looking you right in the face and listening to you ask 'whats the matter?", it is possible that before they look up at you they have a thought that is something like: "just because you were an hour and a half late to meet someone in my office and then called me from the lobby and chewed my ass about how no one was helping distract her from your tardiness ALL THE WAY UP THE ELEVATOR and then you wouldn't let me do anything remotely close to my job because you somehow still didn't have your shit together and I had to do your prep work while you stood ON MY HEAD and corrected all my misclicks and mistappitytaps instead of going back to my other desk and taking it over so there is no way I can get any work done on the warm side of the building OR enjoy seeing the surface I spent an hour cleaning up this morning", in which case you might want to stop with the PDA play after they offer the "just workin" answer and pretend like you care when you pop off with "no, thats not it! where is your smile? whats wrong, really??" because there are still some people with enough brain cells left and enough food in their guts to be able to have this entire internal monolouge in the time it takes you to snap your gum.
Still bowing? no??? get your ass to yoga and learn how to hold a stretch, geeeezz.
Jose and I have a date, and maybe I'll be taking a morning swim to get his stench off me before I kung fu the plumber for mirror space in the morning.
Monday, July 10, 2006
The Little Things
Riddle me this - even as a receptionist I don't get it - if you say you're out for a lunch break, then have to get a call an hour and a half later to remember to report that its a lunch meeting with collogues, and THEN decide when you are in the lobby of the building getting on the elevator that 2.5 hours after you leave the office is the PERFECT time to call and check in with your ETA. WTF!!!! After 3 calls to her cell and a call from the collogue letting us know she's on her way FROM THE OTHER SIDE OF THE PARKING LOT, the ONLY time she could manage to tell us in the 4 hours before this meeting to tell us she'd be out the entire middle of the day is in the 45 seconds before she walks through the door???!?!?!!?
I'm just pissy because the saintly Auntie that took my sister in during her time of need is being a big bloated alcoholic jerk. I called the house looking for Sissy and she took the opportunity to say "if you don't want to look at someones picture, take it down instead of flipping it over so it doens't hurt anyones feelings". Yeah, after you knew Sissy was living with you and "cleaned the room for her", somehow the picture of you in your bra and panties straddling a champagne bottle didn't make it off the only mirror in the room and out of politeness she feverishly added a number of her own pics to drown out your naked ass staring at her whenever she put makeup on and THREE MONTHS LATER I come to visit and don't need your milky thighs staring ME down as I put my makeup on so I preserve the pic and its obviously ONLY location available in the house (because HER bedroom mirrorSSSSS or HER private half bath mirror are WAY out of the question) instead of letting it fall into the oblivion that is Sissy's stuff or ::gasp:: put it in her room to be trampled by the cats or lost on HER terrain of terror... its all my fault that your fat ass needs "an inspiration picture" for you and your fiance in Sissy's bedroom and somehow my turning it over meant I hate you.
So your doc told you beer is eating your insides so that stomach pain you have is your juices leaking to the rest of your organs. So you have to switch to vodka even though you vowed to never drink hard alcohol again because you turn into a raging bitch and then pass out EVERY TIME but you HAVE to drink so you buy Ketel One on your just-lost-my-part-time-temp-job and am living off of haircuts budget. That does NOT mean you have the right to bitch me out for your nuddie pics being turned over in MY SISTERS BEDROOM on my lunch break!!!
Thank You MOT for inspiring that valve release =)
Also on the list of why the hell am I thinking about this stuff: I read an article this weekend about how "serial tanners" that we all thought were so full of themselves and HAD to spend 10 hours a week in the tanning beds are actually junkies. They replaced the bulbs in the beds so a group of these SoCallyFryBabes were only getting 10 minutes of UV rays and the other 10 minutes were just warming lights. They actually started withdrawl symptoms - twitching and all ya'll!!!!
I read this article as I untied the back of my bikini top and gave myself a wedgie to get as little of an untanned area as possible with the roomies mom and grandma walking about the kitchen (exactly 30 feet and a full wall of glass slider door away). It reminded my why I always feel so refreshed after a weekend of doing NADA, NUT'n, Zip, Zilch, bumpkis - its the happy neurotransmitter release that floods me after as little as 20 minutes twice a week (exactly what my weekend agenda ALWAYS includes!!).
Yeah, and... if I was in the office until midnight on Friday night, but I was on the phone for like 3 hours of it, and I got some work done but not 6 hours worth, but no one in the office has anything to do with any of the work was done, how exactly do I mark my timesheet for that?
Oh, and someone please get all Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind on my ass and find that part of the brain that makes someone IRRESISTABLE to obsess about once they are totally and unequivicably unavailable. Its like a sickness to have my heart jump when the little "you have mail" envelope pops up to get Really disappointed to check it and see its not Mr. Techie but some actual work related crap.
Right. I should be working. Today is the "no matter what you get overtime this week" day and my morning meeting that should take no more than 45 minutes ran soooooo late that I had to call my higher up and say I WASN'T an hour late to work this morning, I was in a meeting since an hour BEFORE I usually get to work and STILL didn't manage to get my ONE 4 minute project done on time. So the way I see it, my afternoon of lollygagg'n isn't a total waste since I did get my butt in high gear after being held hostage all morning. And with all the work I probably won't add to a timecard, I'm just break'n even. Yeah, thats it. And maybe this week I'll get downstairs and into my comfy gym clothes and finish the projects that Somehow ::whistle:: :: kick my foot:: ::hands behind back:: don't get done in the 41.5 regulated hours per week. Hmmm...
I wish I could link faster, or I'd have some cool stuff. I can't really save anything to this computer or I would!! Maybe if you comment with a real address to reply to, I can forward you the link in the email that got this whole post started. Note worthy, I promise.
A tut alure ya'll, I've gotta another email to get excited about and then be disappointed that they want me to work about!
I'm just pissy because the saintly Auntie that took my sister in during her time of need is being a big bloated alcoholic jerk. I called the house looking for Sissy and she took the opportunity to say "if you don't want to look at someones picture, take it down instead of flipping it over so it doens't hurt anyones feelings". Yeah, after you knew Sissy was living with you and "cleaned the room for her", somehow the picture of you in your bra and panties straddling a champagne bottle didn't make it off the only mirror in the room and out of politeness she feverishly added a number of her own pics to drown out your naked ass staring at her whenever she put makeup on and THREE MONTHS LATER I come to visit and don't need your milky thighs staring ME down as I put my makeup on so I preserve the pic and its obviously ONLY location available in the house (because HER bedroom mirrorSSSSS or HER private half bath mirror are WAY out of the question) instead of letting it fall into the oblivion that is Sissy's stuff or ::gasp:: put it in her room to be trampled by the cats or lost on HER terrain of terror... its all my fault that your fat ass needs "an inspiration picture" for you and your fiance in Sissy's bedroom and somehow my turning it over meant I hate you.
So your doc told you beer is eating your insides so that stomach pain you have is your juices leaking to the rest of your organs. So you have to switch to vodka even though you vowed to never drink hard alcohol again because you turn into a raging bitch and then pass out EVERY TIME but you HAVE to drink so you buy Ketel One on your just-lost-my-part-time-temp-job and am living off of haircuts budget. That does NOT mean you have the right to bitch me out for your nuddie pics being turned over in MY SISTERS BEDROOM on my lunch break!!!
Thank You MOT for inspiring that valve release =)
Also on the list of why the hell am I thinking about this stuff: I read an article this weekend about how "serial tanners" that we all thought were so full of themselves and HAD to spend 10 hours a week in the tanning beds are actually junkies. They replaced the bulbs in the beds so a group of these SoCallyFryBabes were only getting 10 minutes of UV rays and the other 10 minutes were just warming lights. They actually started withdrawl symptoms - twitching and all ya'll!!!!
I read this article as I untied the back of my bikini top and gave myself a wedgie to get as little of an untanned area as possible with the roomies mom and grandma walking about the kitchen (exactly 30 feet and a full wall of glass slider door away). It reminded my why I always feel so refreshed after a weekend of doing NADA, NUT'n, Zip, Zilch, bumpkis - its the happy neurotransmitter release that floods me after as little as 20 minutes twice a week (exactly what my weekend agenda ALWAYS includes!!).
Yeah, and... if I was in the office until midnight on Friday night, but I was on the phone for like 3 hours of it, and I got some work done but not 6 hours worth, but no one in the office has anything to do with any of the work was done, how exactly do I mark my timesheet for that?
Oh, and someone please get all Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind on my ass and find that part of the brain that makes someone IRRESISTABLE to obsess about once they are totally and unequivicably unavailable. Its like a sickness to have my heart jump when the little "you have mail" envelope pops up to get Really disappointed to check it and see its not Mr. Techie but some actual work related crap.
Right. I should be working. Today is the "no matter what you get overtime this week" day and my morning meeting that should take no more than 45 minutes ran soooooo late that I had to call my higher up and say I WASN'T an hour late to work this morning, I was in a meeting since an hour BEFORE I usually get to work and STILL didn't manage to get my ONE 4 minute project done on time. So the way I see it, my afternoon of lollygagg'n isn't a total waste since I did get my butt in high gear after being held hostage all morning. And with all the work I probably won't add to a timecard, I'm just break'n even. Yeah, thats it. And maybe this week I'll get downstairs and into my comfy gym clothes and finish the projects that Somehow ::whistle:: :: kick my foot:: ::hands behind back:: don't get done in the 41.5 regulated hours per week. Hmmm...
I wish I could link faster, or I'd have some cool stuff. I can't really save anything to this computer or I would!! Maybe if you comment with a real address to reply to, I can forward you the link in the email that got this whole post started. Note worthy, I promise.
A tut alure ya'll, I've gotta another email to get excited about and then be disappointed that they want me to work about!
Sunday, July 09, 2006
Back in the Saddle
Its official.
No deny'n it.
Tried to talk myself out of it.
Worked a logical circle around it.
Alas, I'm a slut.
Well, or so in touch with my actual needs that I will take advantage of meeting them.
According to my friend Monty, Maslows Heirarchy of Needs includes sex amoung food and drink and shelter.
Its basic.
And I'm tapp'n into my most primal needs and meeting them with a flurry.
After a long depression linked to the mammilian/emotional brain, I have recovered refreshed and on the prowl with my reptilian/basic needs brain running the show.
It was easy really. I planted the seeds of inquisition about 6 weeks ago, I played phone tag, I refused to respond to his lame attempts at 11:30pm rendevus, and suddenly I found myself playing him like a pawn.
And I don't play chess.
Thats how easy he was.
I was working VERY late, chatting on the cell phone while pulling the shredable files from the cabinets and tossing them on the floor like a slob. Behavior I could NEVER pull off if the office were abuzz with people and chatter and activity.
I get a beep that another call is coming in.
I know its him.
I tell him I'll call him later.
2 hours later I wake him.
With only 10 minutes of back and forth, I have the file cabinet project done, my shoes back on, and a midnight date to Dennys to get me dinner.
S C O R E.
I never eat at dinners, and let me tell ya... there is something about OJ and french toast at midnight that will send you over cloud nine no matter WHO your sitting across from!
He holds my hand in the car on the way back to his place, offers me a glass of wine, I say I'm good, we make out in the hallway, he says this would be more comfortable in the bedroom, and 45 minutes later he gets up to get me a towel AND a bottle of water without being asked for either.
And he didn't just toss them at me. Like some assholes do. I got them handed to me as I basked in the glow that is an endorphin rush brought on by being smacked ever so expertly on the meat of the rump while getting the fingers involved in cum #3.
Do I tell the judgement commitee in my real life that some things AREN'T finished after college? Will they believe I wasn't drinking either time? Can they fathom that I'm not covering for anything, that I am more well adjusted today than at any time in the past year???
Well, I'm telling you.
The Ass is back in Sassy if you know what I mean.
I must admit, I am a little disappointed that after 6 months of committed gym rat-dom, I find my lower back a bit of achy after these escapades. Time to adjust the regime.
Keep going to yoga so I can hold my legs open? yes.
Continue to do crunches every trip so I can manipulate myself and him with graceful ease? yes.
Do more pushups so I can hold tighter to my position on the bed? yes.
Learn how to use that bar that you lay over and hold weights to your chest and do backward situps on? Going this afternoon.
Thank every one of my teachers for giving me the stamina, strength, and self esteem to land two Lamers who can't return phone calls on time but can be talked into buying my late night meals and letting me ride them until I'm totally tripley satisfied? I'm pulling out the cute stationary as I type.
On another topic, my tan lines are coming very nicely. Somehow this little halter top bikini is perfectly fitting over my nipple section so that I don't mind my roomies being home during my tanning time.
Compoundly, laying on my stomach totally topless - not just with the back untied, but with the whole top off and slipped under the pillow - and realizing that the roomies mom and grandma were in the house for the first time is not nearly as embarrassing as you'd think.
Also, the mild disappointment of finding out that one of your favorite flirt buddies is taken can be overcome in time to send a reply email containing the sentance "when you ever take my invitation to meet, just bring me a friend to play with while you and your g/f suck face =)". There is something fantastic about not knowing the people in real life. I don't have to be put off my his bad hair days or the way he shovels food or what a dork he really is (he works in tech support ya'll, I mean come ON)... but on the phone and via email he is a wonderful man in my life; always glad to talk to me, always ready to make me laugh, and willing to put in the effort to quell my workplace worries. He doesn't even get jealous when I talk to other Tech Support guys. So he had a girlfriend that can read his open IMs at his house and can't chat with me. He just crossed into the PERFECTLY unavailable guy for me and the teasing and taunting is about to exponentially explode. And I'll tell ya, I've been pretty brazen about throwing myself at him with the text messages to my email that were forwarded with my phone number on them, emails from the personal address, talk of meeting midstate for a weekend on the beach... I mean we all know I'm not a tease, but there is something devilishly fun about offering a chase to a guy 4 hours away =)=)
Its midafternoon on the last day of my weekend. I'm going to shower some heavy conditioner in my hair, get back in the bikini to solidify my tan lines, check my laundry, and maybe think about eating something so IF the gym crosses my mind for that back workout I'll be up for it. Or I'll have two beers for lunch and end the day catching up on Tivo.
Welcome to a closer representation of my most perfect life to date. Working my way up the ladder, social life blossoming, money sitch is healthy, no latent desires to emotionally self mutilate, family squared away, contented dog sleeping at my feet, room kinda clean but not neurotically so, and the rest of the day to do whatever the fuck I want because I am in control of whats happening to me and chose to have the free time commercials keep telling me I don't have.
Boo ya.
No deny'n it.
Tried to talk myself out of it.
Worked a logical circle around it.
Alas, I'm a slut.
Well, or so in touch with my actual needs that I will take advantage of meeting them.
According to my friend Monty, Maslows Heirarchy of Needs includes sex amoung food and drink and shelter.
Its basic.
And I'm tapp'n into my most primal needs and meeting them with a flurry.
After a long depression linked to the mammilian/emotional brain, I have recovered refreshed and on the prowl with my reptilian/basic needs brain running the show.
It was easy really. I planted the seeds of inquisition about 6 weeks ago, I played phone tag, I refused to respond to his lame attempts at 11:30pm rendevus, and suddenly I found myself playing him like a pawn.
And I don't play chess.
Thats how easy he was.
I was working VERY late, chatting on the cell phone while pulling the shredable files from the cabinets and tossing them on the floor like a slob. Behavior I could NEVER pull off if the office were abuzz with people and chatter and activity.
I get a beep that another call is coming in.
I know its him.
I tell him I'll call him later.
2 hours later I wake him.
With only 10 minutes of back and forth, I have the file cabinet project done, my shoes back on, and a midnight date to Dennys to get me dinner.
S C O R E.
I never eat at dinners, and let me tell ya... there is something about OJ and french toast at midnight that will send you over cloud nine no matter WHO your sitting across from!
He holds my hand in the car on the way back to his place, offers me a glass of wine, I say I'm good, we make out in the hallway, he says this would be more comfortable in the bedroom, and 45 minutes later he gets up to get me a towel AND a bottle of water without being asked for either.
And he didn't just toss them at me. Like some assholes do. I got them handed to me as I basked in the glow that is an endorphin rush brought on by being smacked ever so expertly on the meat of the rump while getting the fingers involved in cum #3.
Do I tell the judgement commitee in my real life that some things AREN'T finished after college? Will they believe I wasn't drinking either time? Can they fathom that I'm not covering for anything, that I am more well adjusted today than at any time in the past year???
Well, I'm telling you.
The Ass is back in Sassy if you know what I mean.
I must admit, I am a little disappointed that after 6 months of committed gym rat-dom, I find my lower back a bit of achy after these escapades. Time to adjust the regime.
Keep going to yoga so I can hold my legs open? yes.
Continue to do crunches every trip so I can manipulate myself and him with graceful ease? yes.
Do more pushups so I can hold tighter to my position on the bed? yes.
Learn how to use that bar that you lay over and hold weights to your chest and do backward situps on? Going this afternoon.
Thank every one of my teachers for giving me the stamina, strength, and self esteem to land two Lamers who can't return phone calls on time but can be talked into buying my late night meals and letting me ride them until I'm totally tripley satisfied? I'm pulling out the cute stationary as I type.
On another topic, my tan lines are coming very nicely. Somehow this little halter top bikini is perfectly fitting over my nipple section so that I don't mind my roomies being home during my tanning time.
Compoundly, laying on my stomach totally topless - not just with the back untied, but with the whole top off and slipped under the pillow - and realizing that the roomies mom and grandma were in the house for the first time is not nearly as embarrassing as you'd think.
Also, the mild disappointment of finding out that one of your favorite flirt buddies is taken can be overcome in time to send a reply email containing the sentance "when you ever take my invitation to meet, just bring me a friend to play with while you and your g/f suck face =)". There is something fantastic about not knowing the people in real life. I don't have to be put off my his bad hair days or the way he shovels food or what a dork he really is (he works in tech support ya'll, I mean come ON)... but on the phone and via email he is a wonderful man in my life; always glad to talk to me, always ready to make me laugh, and willing to put in the effort to quell my workplace worries. He doesn't even get jealous when I talk to other Tech Support guys. So he had a girlfriend that can read his open IMs at his house and can't chat with me. He just crossed into the PERFECTLY unavailable guy for me and the teasing and taunting is about to exponentially explode. And I'll tell ya, I've been pretty brazen about throwing myself at him with the text messages to my email that were forwarded with my phone number on them, emails from the personal address, talk of meeting midstate for a weekend on the beach... I mean we all know I'm not a tease, but there is something devilishly fun about offering a chase to a guy 4 hours away =)=)
Its midafternoon on the last day of my weekend. I'm going to shower some heavy conditioner in my hair, get back in the bikini to solidify my tan lines, check my laundry, and maybe think about eating something so IF the gym crosses my mind for that back workout I'll be up for it. Or I'll have two beers for lunch and end the day catching up on Tivo.
Welcome to a closer representation of my most perfect life to date. Working my way up the ladder, social life blossoming, money sitch is healthy, no latent desires to emotionally self mutilate, family squared away, contented dog sleeping at my feet, room kinda clean but not neurotically so, and the rest of the day to do whatever the fuck I want because I am in control of whats happening to me and chose to have the free time commercials keep telling me I don't have.
Boo ya.
Monday, July 03, 2006
Break the Seal
For any annonomous blog readers who don't need all that "TMI", stop here. There will be gruesome details of a personal nature that certainly have no relevance to any company info you may be seeking out to incriminate me with, even though I am no longer talking about you anyway.
Alright, for the rest of you...
Turns out, after consulting my desk calendar, that I didn't quite hit the 6 month mark of celibacy. That would have been NEXT MONDAY.
Thank the heavens and all things naughty and carefree that Mr. Lamer turned desperate like me!!!
He has been off and on calling for a few weeks but we never connected. I called him Friday to see if he wanted to have a Happy Hour dinner with me and he declined with a promise to call the next day.
I thought of this promise as I stood in the shower Saturday afternoon with a razor in one hand and heat stroke threatening my ability to stand. I decided not to tempt fate or shaving in cold water, or the inability to maintain my vision while bending toward a tiled wall while covered in water and shaving cream. I had thoughts of Laurie HATING her waxer for not being available to facilitate her sex life and realized I trying to convince myself that my lack of drive to facilitate my own sex life was actually my being empowered - somehow I thought I deserved a shank anyway!)
He called at 7pm and asked if I had eaten dinner yet.
We met at a local sit down spot at 8:30pm. He drove to MY town to buy ME dinner. I was overwhelmed with glee that someone was putting forth effort and it wasn't ME!!!! Hahahahahaha, the power of the vajayjay!!!!
So he was quite during the meal, watching the numerous TVs and visably disarmed by the alcholic beverage he sucked down in true Navy boy style.
As we left, he asked if he could see my place, if it was ok if he followed me home.
KA-CHING ya'll!!!
I politely said 'sure, follow me out of the parking lot this way' and walked to my car.
Once inside, I vehimently cursed myself for having little faith in this mild mannered machismo man and did the run up the calf to see exactly how bad it was.
As I waited for the light to change, I texted everyone I know who is strapped to their cell phone to ask if it was poor one-nighter edicit to jump into the shower while he amused himself in my room... then remembered the time I KNEW the guy needed his women shaved within an inch of their life and came back ready for action to find his drinks had made him PASS OUT and thought "I warned Mr. Lamer, he can deal".
We are in my room, sans drinks. He comments on my MANY MANY many many many wall hangings and shelf stuffers before asking if we could watch a movie. I gave him my stack of DVDs and went to piss the 22oz beer I had with dinner (who forgets that bladders can't deal with beer AND has broccoli for lunch the first day in 6 months she has a guy in her bed??? Damn straight its Sassy!)
We started Moulin Rouge, got all comfy laying on the bed COMPLETELY SEPARATED.
Yeah.
I have my pillow, he is on the FAR SIDE of a queen bed with one leg off the matress on his stack of pillows.
No body HEAT contact people!!!
I was worried.
This is the guy that met me online, was hot as hell on the phone, clammed up on our first/coffee date, let me bring a 6pack to his apartment for our second meeting where 3 beers and 3 hours left him comotose and me walking bowlegged for 2 days, then over the next 3 months took me to 4 scary movies and I didn't get so much as a good night kiss out of any of those $30 evenings.
Was he backing out? Did he need a cuddle? Was he just needing someone to tell him he looked good with his muscles all veiny and bulging out of his AE tshirt?? Am I gonna have to wait until the next time he falls asleep and take that 4 minute window to molest him into giving me what we both know I need???
AAGGHHHHH!!!
Well, he commented on his sleepiness, I turned off the movie, and we declaired "good night" to each other about 48 times in the next hour and a half... each time after various conversation topic changes, glances toward the other, body contact turned "what did you do for Father's Day?" (NOT ME), more and more undress, a conversation about why it had been so long since anyone had been in my bed that ended (by him) "wow. thats trauma. don't worry, He'll come back to you." with a very firm "come on, lets cuddle" to break the silence the INSTANT it was getting obnoxious... Yeah, it took about 4 minutes for our pressed half naked bodies to create enough body heat to require the fan to get OFF oscilate and get DIRECTLY ON US ON TOP SPEED. Then I rolled to my stomach, reached out to ask if his nipples were functional or just for decoration with a little flick to prove my point, and in the next 14 seconds he directed my roaming hand from his chest to inside his boxers to both of us being stripped to me riding him like the bucking bronco I remembered him to be.
Just.Like.That.
A few phone calls, a dinner, a few hours of finding our comfort zone, and just like that I got mine THREE TIMES.
He didn't want the last one, but I told him I would be nice. He said he wouldn't last long, I said I didn't need him to =) Damn me and my knowledge, I got him to take my lead, let me tease the everloven vein popp'n breath out of him, let me shiver and quake all over, and THEN give him the three pumps he needed to seal the second deal of the morning.
I even cooked him breakfast in gratitude, and he didn't say a damn thing about my toaster oven being set to "frozen" and turning his whole wheat toast into frisbees.
Again he asked if we could watch TV (he's simple, but if you look at him from the neck down, you just don't give a shit anymore) and with almost no body contact and short menial conversations we mustered through Madagascar (its a cute movie, and the roomies were home, I don't want to hear it) before his need for a clean pair of chonies got the better of him.
I get off work at 3pm today and am only about an hour away from where I need to be at 7pm. I'm thinking, after all that effort, and that he inspired me to FINALLY trim the hedges and get back my camel toe, maybe I'll ring him and see if I can sneak in a little afternoon fun before my drive to the City. (Thanks for revv'n me up Monty!)
Lets hope he's ready... Saturday I was all loopy from the tanning and the swimming and the napping and was in my hang-out-in-almost-nothing-because-its-DAYM-hot-in-the-house clothes and NO makeup; today I am shaved up to the landing strip, glowing golden with bronzer and mascara highlighting all the right spots, and all hyped up on thoughts of cock =)=)
All Mighty help him keep his strength if he lets me in his sights this weekend.
Alright, for the rest of you...
Turns out, after consulting my desk calendar, that I didn't quite hit the 6 month mark of celibacy. That would have been NEXT MONDAY.
Thank the heavens and all things naughty and carefree that Mr. Lamer turned desperate like me!!!
He has been off and on calling for a few weeks but we never connected. I called him Friday to see if he wanted to have a Happy Hour dinner with me and he declined with a promise to call the next day.
I thought of this promise as I stood in the shower Saturday afternoon with a razor in one hand and heat stroke threatening my ability to stand. I decided not to tempt fate or shaving in cold water, or the inability to maintain my vision while bending toward a tiled wall while covered in water and shaving cream. I had thoughts of Laurie HATING her waxer for not being available to facilitate her sex life and realized I trying to convince myself that my lack of drive to facilitate my own sex life was actually my being empowered - somehow I thought I deserved a shank anyway!)
He called at 7pm and asked if I had eaten dinner yet.
We met at a local sit down spot at 8:30pm. He drove to MY town to buy ME dinner. I was overwhelmed with glee that someone was putting forth effort and it wasn't ME!!!! Hahahahahaha, the power of the vajayjay!!!!
So he was quite during the meal, watching the numerous TVs and visably disarmed by the alcholic beverage he sucked down in true Navy boy style.
As we left, he asked if he could see my place, if it was ok if he followed me home.
KA-CHING ya'll!!!
I politely said 'sure, follow me out of the parking lot this way' and walked to my car.
Once inside, I vehimently cursed myself for having little faith in this mild mannered machismo man and did the run up the calf to see exactly how bad it was.
As I waited for the light to change, I texted everyone I know who is strapped to their cell phone to ask if it was poor one-nighter edicit to jump into the shower while he amused himself in my room... then remembered the time I KNEW the guy needed his women shaved within an inch of their life and came back ready for action to find his drinks had made him PASS OUT and thought "I warned Mr. Lamer, he can deal".
We are in my room, sans drinks. He comments on my MANY MANY many many many wall hangings and shelf stuffers before asking if we could watch a movie. I gave him my stack of DVDs and went to piss the 22oz beer I had with dinner (who forgets that bladders can't deal with beer AND has broccoli for lunch the first day in 6 months she has a guy in her bed??? Damn straight its Sassy!)
We started Moulin Rouge, got all comfy laying on the bed COMPLETELY SEPARATED.
Yeah.
I have my pillow, he is on the FAR SIDE of a queen bed with one leg off the matress on his stack of pillows.
No body HEAT contact people!!!
I was worried.
This is the guy that met me online, was hot as hell on the phone, clammed up on our first/coffee date, let me bring a 6pack to his apartment for our second meeting where 3 beers and 3 hours left him comotose and me walking bowlegged for 2 days, then over the next 3 months took me to 4 scary movies and I didn't get so much as a good night kiss out of any of those $30 evenings.
Was he backing out? Did he need a cuddle? Was he just needing someone to tell him he looked good with his muscles all veiny and bulging out of his AE tshirt?? Am I gonna have to wait until the next time he falls asleep and take that 4 minute window to molest him into giving me what we both know I need???
AAGGHHHHH!!!
Well, he commented on his sleepiness, I turned off the movie, and we declaired "good night" to each other about 48 times in the next hour and a half... each time after various conversation topic changes, glances toward the other, body contact turned "what did you do for Father's Day?" (NOT ME), more and more undress, a conversation about why it had been so long since anyone had been in my bed that ended (by him) "wow. thats trauma. don't worry, He'll come back to you." with a very firm "come on, lets cuddle" to break the silence the INSTANT it was getting obnoxious... Yeah, it took about 4 minutes for our pressed half naked bodies to create enough body heat to require the fan to get OFF oscilate and get DIRECTLY ON US ON TOP SPEED. Then I rolled to my stomach, reached out to ask if his nipples were functional or just for decoration with a little flick to prove my point, and in the next 14 seconds he directed my roaming hand from his chest to inside his boxers to both of us being stripped to me riding him like the bucking bronco I remembered him to be.
Just.Like.That.
A few phone calls, a dinner, a few hours of finding our comfort zone, and just like that I got mine THREE TIMES.
He didn't want the last one, but I told him I would be nice. He said he wouldn't last long, I said I didn't need him to =) Damn me and my knowledge, I got him to take my lead, let me tease the everloven vein popp'n breath out of him, let me shiver and quake all over, and THEN give him the three pumps he needed to seal the second deal of the morning.
I even cooked him breakfast in gratitude, and he didn't say a damn thing about my toaster oven being set to "frozen" and turning his whole wheat toast into frisbees.
Again he asked if we could watch TV (he's simple, but if you look at him from the neck down, you just don't give a shit anymore) and with almost no body contact and short menial conversations we mustered through Madagascar (its a cute movie, and the roomies were home, I don't want to hear it) before his need for a clean pair of chonies got the better of him.
I get off work at 3pm today and am only about an hour away from where I need to be at 7pm. I'm thinking, after all that effort, and that he inspired me to FINALLY trim the hedges and get back my camel toe, maybe I'll ring him and see if I can sneak in a little afternoon fun before my drive to the City. (Thanks for revv'n me up Monty!)
Lets hope he's ready... Saturday I was all loopy from the tanning and the swimming and the napping and was in my hang-out-in-almost-nothing-because-its-DAYM-hot-in-the-house clothes and NO makeup; today I am shaved up to the landing strip, glowing golden with bronzer and mascara highlighting all the right spots, and all hyped up on thoughts of cock =)=)
All Mighty help him keep his strength if he lets me in his sights this weekend.
Monday, June 26, 2006
::breath, wheez, cough, sigh::
I haven't forgotten the blog.
I haven't been avoiding the blog.
I haven't been avoiding commenting on your blogs.
Its just such a pain to have 12 hours of work to do in an 8 hour day EVERY DAY.
I am writing you now from the middle of one of these such days to let you know that Wednesday of this week until after the holiday next week, my part time backup will be on vacation.
Since the topic of getting me a replacement phone answerer for the week was smacked down harder than the cat from the leftover tri tip, I'm guessing this week will include a lot of overtime and not too much social time.
However, I will brag that the weather in my neighborhood was delightful this weekend and I was able to get some housework done. This included lounging about until Aunt Flo was done forcing me to eat Oreos and drink beer and pop pills, dipping into the pool at dusk just for a better view of the twilight stars, and cleaning my room to the point of rearranging furniture to get the job done right. So, while my ass is firmly planted in front of a computer from 7:30am-6pm all week, I MIGHT be able to pull out the milk crate with a pillow topper in front of my new computer setup and let forth the spew of blogworthy happenings in the last MONTH since I've gotten to the site!!
The quick overview (because its 10 minutes until lunch, and lets face it, I won't get any work done in that time anyway):
--Dad gave me a wad of cash for having a phone conversation with him, I dreaded the bad karma that is always attached to his money, I deposit it the same day my sister calls saying one of her credit card companies will 1/2 her debt if she pays it off by July 1st, and I gladly transfer dads money to her account to take advantage of the deal. I figure they don't call it 'money laundering' for nothing, and maybe the karma will wash off in the transfer and won't stick through the slow dribble as it gets back to me.
--The sister roomies are in Vegas this week. This means that I get to worry about dogs puking and peeing in the house while I'm gone for 12 hours or more a day (haven't decided if I'll be going to the gym this week - running around the backyard like a freak with the dogs and rearranging furniture and closet space sounds WAY more fun!!).
--I'm getting props at work. While the kudos are nice, I know how much work I have to do and how I'm not getting it done and its driving me NUTS that I have to switch hats/roles so many times a day but apparently the trick is to keep a smile on and always be ready to say "I'll get right on that" and they think I'm a goddess. They are also familiar enough to me now, and the work is repetative enough to have learned it well enough, that Miss Sassy is getting some play again - they haven't decided if they like her yet or not, but the meek worker in the corner is now piping up and getting the respect she deserves. Miss Sassy likes the Managerial hat!!!! Matches the come-fuck-me-in-my-corporate-suit heels I wear everyday.
--My Mojo is coming around. I partook in a wedding a few weeks back and the single, barely older brother of the bride walked me out and spent about 30 minutes working his game before I let him know he could ask for my number any time now because the cruise was going to depart with me onboard and I wouldn't mind hiding out in his room but I'm sure his roomie would object to us having all the fun. Since I was the one with the cell on me, I got his home number. He lives 500 miles away, but getting concentrated flirts from a 28 year old who didn't have to wear a helmet was certainly a great reason to take a paid day off!!!
Oh, and the wedding was beautiful and I got to see basically all of my girlfriends from my hometown and get them all dolled up for pictures =)
Its lunch time, but there you have the last three and a half weeks of highlights that come to mind as I frantically minimize the screen whenever I hear someone walk by... OH... just kidding, I have one more thing... I heard through the grapevine that New Girl is no longer working in my old office and my old manager has to train ANOTHER someone to fill the receptionist position!!! I feel AWFUL for that office always having to train someone, but the whispered "come back!" was laughed at heartily that I would give up this great carreer opportunity just to hang with the gang and have an easy job again =) I'm getting the swing here, I am gaining TONS of experience, and am proud to announce what I do for a living and I'm supposed to be tempted by returning to being a triple layered subordinant just to have more people to chat up at the water cooler?? While the familiarity is tempting, I realized this weekend (when I found an old journal and the very telling entries) that going back for what the hindsight goggles have convinced you is a dream situation just ISN'T WORTH IT.
Yeah, I guess thats all I got for this minute.
Happy Monday Ya'll, leave a comment so I know all 52 of you who are still checking in got the updates, alright!?? =)=)
I haven't been avoiding the blog.
I haven't been avoiding commenting on your blogs.
Its just such a pain to have 12 hours of work to do in an 8 hour day EVERY DAY.
I am writing you now from the middle of one of these such days to let you know that Wednesday of this week until after the holiday next week, my part time backup will be on vacation.
Since the topic of getting me a replacement phone answerer for the week was smacked down harder than the cat from the leftover tri tip, I'm guessing this week will include a lot of overtime and not too much social time.
However, I will brag that the weather in my neighborhood was delightful this weekend and I was able to get some housework done. This included lounging about until Aunt Flo was done forcing me to eat Oreos and drink beer and pop pills, dipping into the pool at dusk just for a better view of the twilight stars, and cleaning my room to the point of rearranging furniture to get the job done right. So, while my ass is firmly planted in front of a computer from 7:30am-6pm all week, I MIGHT be able to pull out the milk crate with a pillow topper in front of my new computer setup and let forth the spew of blogworthy happenings in the last MONTH since I've gotten to the site!!
The quick overview (because its 10 minutes until lunch, and lets face it, I won't get any work done in that time anyway):
--Dad gave me a wad of cash for having a phone conversation with him, I dreaded the bad karma that is always attached to his money, I deposit it the same day my sister calls saying one of her credit card companies will 1/2 her debt if she pays it off by July 1st, and I gladly transfer dads money to her account to take advantage of the deal. I figure they don't call it 'money laundering' for nothing, and maybe the karma will wash off in the transfer and won't stick through the slow dribble as it gets back to me.
--The sister roomies are in Vegas this week. This means that I get to worry about dogs puking and peeing in the house while I'm gone for 12 hours or more a day (haven't decided if I'll be going to the gym this week - running around the backyard like a freak with the dogs and rearranging furniture and closet space sounds WAY more fun!!).
--I'm getting props at work. While the kudos are nice, I know how much work I have to do and how I'm not getting it done and its driving me NUTS that I have to switch hats/roles so many times a day but apparently the trick is to keep a smile on and always be ready to say "I'll get right on that" and they think I'm a goddess. They are also familiar enough to me now, and the work is repetative enough to have learned it well enough, that Miss Sassy is getting some play again - they haven't decided if they like her yet or not, but the meek worker in the corner is now piping up and getting the respect she deserves. Miss Sassy likes the Managerial hat!!!! Matches the come-fuck-me-in-my-corporate-suit heels I wear everyday.
--My Mojo is coming around. I partook in a wedding a few weeks back and the single, barely older brother of the bride walked me out and spent about 30 minutes working his game before I let him know he could ask for my number any time now because the cruise was going to depart with me onboard and I wouldn't mind hiding out in his room but I'm sure his roomie would object to us having all the fun. Since I was the one with the cell on me, I got his home number. He lives 500 miles away, but getting concentrated flirts from a 28 year old who didn't have to wear a helmet was certainly a great reason to take a paid day off!!!
Oh, and the wedding was beautiful and I got to see basically all of my girlfriends from my hometown and get them all dolled up for pictures =)
Its lunch time, but there you have the last three and a half weeks of highlights that come to mind as I frantically minimize the screen whenever I hear someone walk by... OH... just kidding, I have one more thing... I heard through the grapevine that New Girl is no longer working in my old office and my old manager has to train ANOTHER someone to fill the receptionist position!!! I feel AWFUL for that office always having to train someone, but the whispered "come back!" was laughed at heartily that I would give up this great carreer opportunity just to hang with the gang and have an easy job again =) I'm getting the swing here, I am gaining TONS of experience, and am proud to announce what I do for a living and I'm supposed to be tempted by returning to being a triple layered subordinant just to have more people to chat up at the water cooler?? While the familiarity is tempting, I realized this weekend (when I found an old journal and the very telling entries) that going back for what the hindsight goggles have convinced you is a dream situation just ISN'T WORTH IT.
Yeah, I guess thats all I got for this minute.
Happy Monday Ya'll, leave a comment so I know all 52 of you who are still checking in got the updates, alright!?? =)=)
Friday, June 02, 2006
Cresent Moon
I was told by a friend that maybe it was the cresent moon that could be blamed for all the rediculousness abounding.
Whatever it is, it feels a lot like the cosmic jokes are adding a bit of satire or cynicism or prankster to the normal repetua (or however the fuck you spell that word).
Case in point:
1) I have a timeline for how my week, day, and hour should go for the new job. When I walk in I have certain things to get done. Every week certain things need to get done with varying priority (read:they can be moved and postponed when higher profile/more pressing issues come around). Every morning and every lunch time I make a list of things to get done.
To have the same things roll over PISSES.ME.OFF. This is the same part of the brain that threw a fit when I had to leave stuff in my inbox. I have created a folder of stuff that needs attention ASAP and I have stuff in there from yesterday.
The joke: I am having absolutely no spaz response to the stress, workload, emergencies, building stack of pressing matters, or the fact that some of the stuff I wanted to get done Tuesday is still waiting for the high priority stuff to get done.
On the one hand I am freaking out that I'm not freaking out.
On the other - I found a sushi place around the corner that BBQs their beef in onions and mushrooms and leaves the teriaki for the chicken. YUM. And if I so desire for a dinner to go box, they can add a Sapporo to the order. YEAH!!!
2) After the WTF with the roomie in the bathroom this week (did I tell ya'll about that?? "how many peoples shit do I have to scrub from my toilet now?" falling out of my mouth 14 seconds after waking up?? I forgot - anyway, I FREAKED about my territory being taken over by one of the DownStairs Girls and TRIED MY DAMNEDEST not to beat someone with freshly applied mascara), I have Squeeky all up in my How Can You Think This Is A Way To Function nerve center.
I come home to find both sides of the sink full and both sides of the counter taking over the overflow. Stuff with milk rotting in the bottom. A greasy pan that was left to soak now has grease covered silverware and plates and cup bottoms to leave its slimy mark on. Glasses under three full sized plates. UNREAL to me.
Then I see that the dishwasher has the CLEAN magnet on it. OK. They are using the magnets. After 4 months, we can read the sign before acting. But HELLO!!!!! We can't use the sink!!!! Whoever runs the machine should understand they can empty it by now.
I open the door to find the top shelf with 8 of the possible 20 spots filled. The bottom has 3 big peices and 4 plates. Apparently someone just didn't want to put soap on the rag when they rinsed and ran the energy sucking, water wasting, heat producing, noisy fuckin lazy mans pretentious machine when they cooked.
So, in my gym clothes, mostly dry from sweat by now, and leaving my shoes on for the productivity of it all, I clean the kitchen. It takes me THREE MINUTES to unload the dishwasher, INCLUDING rearranging the shelves to make these few items fit. Somehow matching nesting bowls is WAY too fucking complicated for these folks and each bowl needs to be sitting in its own place in our tiny overstuffed cupboards.
I am thinking the entire time that I will put my hand on something I used, but HELL NO. I am putting away a stack of dishes I didn't use.
If we didn't just, two weeks ago, have the "well if everyone does their own dishes, there won't be a problem" talk...
B R E A T H I N G. I resolve that I will not get icked out and turn the water to scalding and start rinsing the crap off the sides of the stuff in the sink to load the dishwasher.
Thats right. I could have put soap on the rag and washed them as I put them in... but I was struck again with the fucking HILARIOUS joke that I am doing dishes for a house I haven't been in enough to dirty even a fork in - TWO WEEKS after we agreed that this BULLSHIT shouldn't be happening to anyone.
I get the diswasher loaded.
I am scrubbing the grease and lettuce and smears of I don't know what off the inside of the sink when I hear Squeeky's door open. She squeezes her bony ass between me and the cupboard fora a glass. She walks to the other side of me, ALL up in my space, and reaches her glass over my arm. She, in a finally normal speaking voice, says "I'm just gonna grab a glass of water here."
I stand perfectly still, look at her hand in amazed disbelief, and mutter "its kinda hot."
She proceeds to lean in further to up the chilled side and down the hot side and eeks out "sorry, this is totally in the way of like the cleaning you are doing ::snorty sigh:: sorry, I'm just gonna, yeah, ok, almost done here. OK, and I'll put the hot water back on for you here, OK, I'm done."
Two examples of the FEROCIOUS temper that may or may not be working itself into my daily grind. I can't get a DAMNED thing done all day, and come home to complete ANYTHING, no matter how much I hate it on principle (THIS is how much I can't stand a filthy kitchen people!!!), I can't even get THAT done without being interupted by RETARDEDNESS!!!
Its TAP WATER you fucking inconsiderate selfish single track minded freak!! Use the bathroom if someone is cleaning your mess for you and the 37 seconds it might take for them to finish is TOO MUCH for your parched saggn flatttttttt ass!!!!!
Laurie at Beauty and the Beer said she was missing some of her Shank Tuesday Mojo.
I am thinking, if this Cresent Moon/Should only be Aunt Flo to make this much of a bitch out of me/Cosmic Jokester turning Punk Ass on me/where the fuck is this heat wave coming from if I was fogged in at work for the last 3 hours BULLSHIT of a shitty attitude keeps up, she can consult me for material ;)
To put it sucsinctly: I am in such a weird funky out of touch cranky surreal shell of reality mood lately that I flat out turned down a booty call this week.
Logically I am creating standards for myself.
Realistically I was sure I'd be disappointed and didn't think it was worth changing a razor blade for.
TGIF folks... If I had more than 8 more hours of this crap thrown my way before I could duck from in it a drunken haze, well, I might start phasing the bar up the street into my weekly schedule. I'm just say'n.
Whatever it is, it feels a lot like the cosmic jokes are adding a bit of satire or cynicism or prankster to the normal repetua (or however the fuck you spell that word).
Case in point:
1) I have a timeline for how my week, day, and hour should go for the new job. When I walk in I have certain things to get done. Every week certain things need to get done with varying priority (read:they can be moved and postponed when higher profile/more pressing issues come around). Every morning and every lunch time I make a list of things to get done.
To have the same things roll over PISSES.ME.OFF. This is the same part of the brain that threw a fit when I had to leave stuff in my inbox. I have created a folder of stuff that needs attention ASAP and I have stuff in there from yesterday.
The joke: I am having absolutely no spaz response to the stress, workload, emergencies, building stack of pressing matters, or the fact that some of the stuff I wanted to get done Tuesday is still waiting for the high priority stuff to get done.
On the one hand I am freaking out that I'm not freaking out.
On the other - I found a sushi place around the corner that BBQs their beef in onions and mushrooms and leaves the teriaki for the chicken. YUM. And if I so desire for a dinner to go box, they can add a Sapporo to the order. YEAH!!!
2) After the WTF with the roomie in the bathroom this week (did I tell ya'll about that?? "how many peoples shit do I have to scrub from my toilet now?" falling out of my mouth 14 seconds after waking up?? I forgot - anyway, I FREAKED about my territory being taken over by one of the DownStairs Girls and TRIED MY DAMNEDEST not to beat someone with freshly applied mascara), I have Squeeky all up in my How Can You Think This Is A Way To Function nerve center.
I come home to find both sides of the sink full and both sides of the counter taking over the overflow. Stuff with milk rotting in the bottom. A greasy pan that was left to soak now has grease covered silverware and plates and cup bottoms to leave its slimy mark on. Glasses under three full sized plates. UNREAL to me.
Then I see that the dishwasher has the CLEAN magnet on it. OK. They are using the magnets. After 4 months, we can read the sign before acting. But HELLO!!!!! We can't use the sink!!!! Whoever runs the machine should understand they can empty it by now.
I open the door to find the top shelf with 8 of the possible 20 spots filled. The bottom has 3 big peices and 4 plates. Apparently someone just didn't want to put soap on the rag when they rinsed and ran the energy sucking, water wasting, heat producing, noisy fuckin lazy mans pretentious machine when they cooked.
So, in my gym clothes, mostly dry from sweat by now, and leaving my shoes on for the productivity of it all, I clean the kitchen. It takes me THREE MINUTES to unload the dishwasher, INCLUDING rearranging the shelves to make these few items fit. Somehow matching nesting bowls is WAY too fucking complicated for these folks and each bowl needs to be sitting in its own place in our tiny overstuffed cupboards.
I am thinking the entire time that I will put my hand on something I used, but HELL NO. I am putting away a stack of dishes I didn't use.
If we didn't just, two weeks ago, have the "well if everyone does their own dishes, there won't be a problem" talk...
B R E A T H I N G. I resolve that I will not get icked out and turn the water to scalding and start rinsing the crap off the sides of the stuff in the sink to load the dishwasher.
Thats right. I could have put soap on the rag and washed them as I put them in... but I was struck again with the fucking HILARIOUS joke that I am doing dishes for a house I haven't been in enough to dirty even a fork in - TWO WEEKS after we agreed that this BULLSHIT shouldn't be happening to anyone.
I get the diswasher loaded.
I am scrubbing the grease and lettuce and smears of I don't know what off the inside of the sink when I hear Squeeky's door open. She squeezes her bony ass between me and the cupboard fora a glass. She walks to the other side of me, ALL up in my space, and reaches her glass over my arm. She, in a finally normal speaking voice, says "I'm just gonna grab a glass of water here."
I stand perfectly still, look at her hand in amazed disbelief, and mutter "its kinda hot."
She proceeds to lean in further to up the chilled side and down the hot side and eeks out "sorry, this is totally in the way of like the cleaning you are doing ::snorty sigh:: sorry, I'm just gonna, yeah, ok, almost done here. OK, and I'll put the hot water back on for you here, OK, I'm done."
Two examples of the FEROCIOUS temper that may or may not be working itself into my daily grind. I can't get a DAMNED thing done all day, and come home to complete ANYTHING, no matter how much I hate it on principle (THIS is how much I can't stand a filthy kitchen people!!!), I can't even get THAT done without being interupted by RETARDEDNESS!!!
Its TAP WATER you fucking inconsiderate selfish single track minded freak!! Use the bathroom if someone is cleaning your mess for you and the 37 seconds it might take for them to finish is TOO MUCH for your parched saggn flatttttttt ass!!!!!
Laurie at Beauty and the Beer said she was missing some of her Shank Tuesday Mojo.
I am thinking, if this Cresent Moon/Should only be Aunt Flo to make this much of a bitch out of me/Cosmic Jokester turning Punk Ass on me/where the fuck is this heat wave coming from if I was fogged in at work for the last 3 hours BULLSHIT of a shitty attitude keeps up, she can consult me for material ;)
To put it sucsinctly: I am in such a weird funky out of touch cranky surreal shell of reality mood lately that I flat out turned down a booty call this week.
Logically I am creating standards for myself.
Realistically I was sure I'd be disappointed and didn't think it was worth changing a razor blade for.
TGIF folks... If I had more than 8 more hours of this crap thrown my way before I could duck from in it a drunken haze, well, I might start phasing the bar up the street into my weekly schedule. I'm just say'n.
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Memorial Day Wrap-up
Its midnight at the end of a long weekend.
Tomorrow is the first day I officially begin my new job... when I run into a problem I can't turn to the trainer and say "um, I frgot" and have it go away.
Its also the end of the month and I have to remember all the stuff she said has to happen by or on the first.
And wouldn't you know it, I get less days THIS week to figure out what ALL those STUPENDOUSLY important things are.
So what do I do??
Get on Blogger and recap the weekend so I might get SIX hours of sleep before this chaos begins.
Trips to the gym - none.
Cups of ice cream eaten - two.
Calls, texts, checkins from family while THEY were intoxicated - four.
Number of nails bitten off, broken, torn, or otherwise in need if filing to the nub - ALL TEN.
Number of times I said out loud "Aunt Flo is a fucking Bitch. Dammitalltodogshit." - 27.
Number of roomies I shared the house with during night hours - NONE until tonight!!!
Number of times it was obvious someone else used the bathroom I was supposed to have to myself because T was out with the ex all weekend - 3.
Days in PJs, bikinis, slippers, braless, or otherwise not presentable at the 7-11 - 2.
Days spent with a gay guy couple admiring kittens, gemstones, and The Girls in my shirt - one completely full day of being told everything I was doing was great, including TWO homecooked meals and NO drinking (there were kittens to play with and The Girls to admire).
Number of times I was awakened by a pet - SEVEN. Normally my lucky number... now its midnight and I can't sleep because I kept trying to wake up on my own accord and it NEVER HAPPENED. They sure are cute though... so glad I remembered to feed them all so they could have enough energy to bite my nose and ram their heads into my eye sockets and play jungle gym on over my legs and bark at every falling leaf they saw and dig in the garbage and find the only can not rinsed and lick it and clap it against the tile floor and never be satisfied with being inside or outside so I can't even pass out on a commercial break and enjoy it!!!!!! AAhhhhhh...
Number of hours I spent laying naked in the sun - 2.5. It was supposed to be 2, but as it turns out the alarm doens't beep through when your on a call... so starting that call with 10 minutes left before its time to turn over, NOT leaving a message like expected but rather having a HALF HOUR conversation at 12:15pm on a crystal clear blue sky day maybe wasn't the BESTEST time to find out this feature of my phone. Yeah.
Number of applications of aloe and Vitamin E oil in the last 10 hours - 10. And my hair got greasy too... very hot right about now in SSSOoooooooo many ways.
Number of times I was impressed at the warm response I got from a guy I hadn't heard from/talked to/seen in at least 2.5 months, or met for the first time this weekend - 7. HERE its a lucky number I guess, but considering 2 were gay, and 2 were questionable, does it still count?
Times I called a friend and asked her NOT to rip me a new one for doing EXACTLY what EVERYONE I know tells me NEVER to do, but I HAD to tell someone ANYWAY - One, and she was very kind about it, and it was due to her kindness that I burned BOTH sides of my too-light-to-match-ivory200-foundation-and-thats-to-match-the-sun-kissed-parts-of-my-HIDE.
Number of minutes on the phone with a guy (he needs a nicname, it will come to me) before he gets up the guts to tell me he would like to see me again - 97. I'm not kidding. This after 3 breaks in the call, me telling him he sounds tired and can call me later in the week TWICE, and mentioning out ONE randevu and subsequently less fun dates thereafter numerous times. Finally, after he says he never SAID he didn't want a repeat performance (its just that after coffee and a movie he didn't let me KISS HIM GOODNIGHT)... he leaks that he could take care of my sunburn for me (I say he could take me to dinner and I would promise to be good if he kept me in public)... and then he says hes ready for another "mindblowing" evening with me.
Number of times I have repeated, in conversation and context, enough times to emblazen a resume worthy phrase for my bedroom conduct in my head for at least a year - 37.
Number of times they didn't appreciate me laughing at their choice of words until I could catch my wits and think of something remotely nice to say back - 37. =)
All in all, not a bad weekend now that I look back on it. Killed my phone battery connecting with a few people, got plenty of time in the house to myself, got the now Annually Celebrated Backyard Tanning Gone Wrong Memorial Day Sunburn, managed NOT to kick/throw/angrily toss/mangle an animal for being an animal, and bragged to enough different people about how well my life is going that not ONE got sick of telling me how well my life is going =)
If only Aunt Flo would vacate so I could have been driving to Mr. Calling Out of Nowhere's place and seeing if all this yoga and dancing was helping turn "mindblowing" back into "I really think I died and went to heaven for a minute". Dammitalltodogshit.
Tomorrow is the first day I officially begin my new job... when I run into a problem I can't turn to the trainer and say "um, I frgot" and have it go away.
Its also the end of the month and I have to remember all the stuff she said has to happen by or on the first.
And wouldn't you know it, I get less days THIS week to figure out what ALL those STUPENDOUSLY important things are.
So what do I do??
Get on Blogger and recap the weekend so I might get SIX hours of sleep before this chaos begins.
Trips to the gym - none.
Cups of ice cream eaten - two.
Calls, texts, checkins from family while THEY were intoxicated - four.
Number of nails bitten off, broken, torn, or otherwise in need if filing to the nub - ALL TEN.
Number of times I said out loud "Aunt Flo is a fucking Bitch. Dammitalltodogshit." - 27.
Number of roomies I shared the house with during night hours - NONE until tonight!!!
Number of times it was obvious someone else used the bathroom I was supposed to have to myself because T was out with the ex all weekend - 3.
Days in PJs, bikinis, slippers, braless, or otherwise not presentable at the 7-11 - 2.
Days spent with a gay guy couple admiring kittens, gemstones, and The Girls in my shirt - one completely full day of being told everything I was doing was great, including TWO homecooked meals and NO drinking (there were kittens to play with and The Girls to admire).
Number of times I was awakened by a pet - SEVEN. Normally my lucky number... now its midnight and I can't sleep because I kept trying to wake up on my own accord and it NEVER HAPPENED. They sure are cute though... so glad I remembered to feed them all so they could have enough energy to bite my nose and ram their heads into my eye sockets and play jungle gym on over my legs and bark at every falling leaf they saw and dig in the garbage and find the only can not rinsed and lick it and clap it against the tile floor and never be satisfied with being inside or outside so I can't even pass out on a commercial break and enjoy it!!!!!! AAhhhhhh...
Number of hours I spent laying naked in the sun - 2.5. It was supposed to be 2, but as it turns out the alarm doens't beep through when your on a call... so starting that call with 10 minutes left before its time to turn over, NOT leaving a message like expected but rather having a HALF HOUR conversation at 12:15pm on a crystal clear blue sky day maybe wasn't the BESTEST time to find out this feature of my phone. Yeah.
Number of applications of aloe and Vitamin E oil in the last 10 hours - 10. And my hair got greasy too... very hot right about now in SSSOoooooooo many ways.
Number of times I was impressed at the warm response I got from a guy I hadn't heard from/talked to/seen in at least 2.5 months, or met for the first time this weekend - 7. HERE its a lucky number I guess, but considering 2 were gay, and 2 were questionable, does it still count?
Times I called a friend and asked her NOT to rip me a new one for doing EXACTLY what EVERYONE I know tells me NEVER to do, but I HAD to tell someone ANYWAY - One, and she was very kind about it, and it was due to her kindness that I burned BOTH sides of my too-light-to-match-ivory200-foundation-and-thats-to-match-the-sun-kissed-parts-of-my-HIDE.
Number of minutes on the phone with a guy (he needs a nicname, it will come to me) before he gets up the guts to tell me he would like to see me again - 97. I'm not kidding. This after 3 breaks in the call, me telling him he sounds tired and can call me later in the week TWICE, and mentioning out ONE randevu and subsequently less fun dates thereafter numerous times. Finally, after he says he never SAID he didn't want a repeat performance (its just that after coffee and a movie he didn't let me KISS HIM GOODNIGHT)... he leaks that he could take care of my sunburn for me (I say he could take me to dinner and I would promise to be good if he kept me in public)... and then he says hes ready for another "mindblowing" evening with me.
Number of times I have repeated, in conversation and context, enough times to emblazen a resume worthy phrase for my bedroom conduct in my head for at least a year - 37.
Number of times they didn't appreciate me laughing at their choice of words until I could catch my wits and think of something remotely nice to say back - 37. =)
All in all, not a bad weekend now that I look back on it. Killed my phone battery connecting with a few people, got plenty of time in the house to myself, got the now Annually Celebrated Backyard Tanning Gone Wrong Memorial Day Sunburn, managed NOT to kick/throw/angrily toss/mangle an animal for being an animal, and bragged to enough different people about how well my life is going that not ONE got sick of telling me how well my life is going =)
If only Aunt Flo would vacate so I could have been driving to Mr. Calling Out of Nowhere's place and seeing if all this yoga and dancing was helping turn "mindblowing" back into "I really think I died and went to heaven for a minute". Dammitalltodogshit.
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
Fixed
Thanks to Curmudgeon for pointing out that my efforts to modify my blog turned OFF the ability to leave comments... He was VERY nice about my asking for comments on the first post that wouldn't ALLOW comments... I promise it was just a happy clicker finger that got me turning off and on all kinds of new tricks - ah, hell, now I'm all dirty thoughts...
Anywho, I got all click happy again and I THINK I let you comment again =)
Let me know, I think my email addy is linked to my profile or on the sidebar or something - of course no time to check since I'm still training and using the 3 minutes my exiting pro needs to pee to think about you all!!!
Anywho, I got all click happy again and I THINK I let you comment again =)
Let me know, I think my email addy is linked to my profile or on the sidebar or something - of course no time to check since I'm still training and using the 3 minutes my exiting pro needs to pee to think about you all!!!
Monday, May 22, 2006
WAKE UP!!!
I get it I get it I get it I get it.
I KKKNNNOOOOOOWWWWW I haven't posted and SSSOOOOO many things are to blame!!!
Every time I get a totally blogworthy ANYTHING happening I am too busy DOING it to stop and Blog It.
Sorry. Spank me, see if I care ;)
For starters (and quickly, so I catch ya'll up), I thank you for checking in still - maybe I'll get in a schedule to blab a bit.
Blabbing has already started!!!! AAAHHHHhhhhhh!! I just can't help myself!!
Alrighty - the gym is officially my social life. I missed a class two Thursdays ago and on my way in to the second class of the evening I was ASSAULTED by 4 people and casually asked by another 5 RE: my whereabouts. It was as if I was in the bathroom while winning an Emmy or something, I swear!
Anyway, it isn't all bad and it felt great to be noticed. Actually, the next Thursday I got asked by,directly and while maintaining eye contact, Blonde Bombshell if I would be coming to the next weeks class. I came home and passed out on the day of the oh-so-would-have-made-an-AWSOME-story-if-I-hadn't-just-had-his-g/f-as-my-workout-partner. Whatever. There is always this week.
Home life - fave roomie officially back with tard b/f. They sleep with each other 5 nights a week, 1/2 of them at my house. This means I wake up and don't know if I'll be fighting a 6'4 built black dude with dreds for the toilet. NICE, I know. Anyway she is in denial and its starting to grate on me that she KNOWS he is annoying but keeps talking about her 2 YEARS ago ex-fiancee like he is still anywhere in the picture and REFUSES to see Tard as the rebound she needs because they are the only two guys in the COUNTY with dreds (Psych Major Walking - beware).
The Downstairs Girls are in fine form, and if I had time I'd complain about what morons they are, but I've got NO TIME to fuss about today.
Moving on...
Family - Sister came to visit this weekend (again - I haven't NOT seen her for a weekend since the Tahoe trip, kinda freak'n me out that we are still talking, but she owes me BIG so shes staying on my sweetie pie side =) ). She realized how big her life could be if she lets it, how many opportunities she can sweep up, and how easy it can be to set up a new life if she just puts a smile on and talks to people. She also confirmed that I am a sucker for $1 shots =)
My Georgeous Girl got her summer shave this weekend and knows EXACTLY how cute she is now. I am not sure she slept at all Saturday afternoon or AT.ALL.YESTERDAY because whenever anyone would move about she would be underfoot and rolling around on her back with a BIG OL' smile on.
We love this time of year. Actually, its a little wierd because she looks like a black lab on tiny legs anyway but now with the long Cocker hair trimmed up to the skin she REALLY has a Mini-Me thing goin with Bubba, her 3 year old black lab buddy. Fave Roomie fell against the wall at the cutness of the little one; Squeeky thought the big one got a bandana as a new outfit (Mini-Me was laying on a pillow on the floor so the legs were disguised). Good Times.
Work - I am OUT OF THAT OFFICE YA'LL!!!!!
After all that, I started my new job this week. Promoted!!! I have Mousy's position in a neighboring office.
Thats Right Thats Right!!!
Its a much smaller office, but as for the administrative support staff its me and a part time front desk-er. Training this week, three day weekend, all me next week, and the $$ part of the promotion kicks in on the first.
I am THRILLED to be in a company where I am told I can move away from the front desk and then it HAPPENS!!!!! In 2.5 months I went from needing a job to being a temp to being a permanent employee to being transfered and promoted to a management position!!!! muah muah to my company and ex-Big Boss for believing in me!!!!
What else?? OOHHHHHHH -
Not to beat a dead horse, but with all this fun stuff happening (sister back in my life, home settling, pooch nearly having surgery but getting beautified instead, promotion), I have had NO aching desire to prove myself awsome to Him. ::sticking tounge out:: I mention it only because I was going through the list of people I wanted to be sure heard the news ASAP about all the goings on and He used to be about mid list... this time I just passed Him right over. Somehow Das wasn't on the list either, but I'm in a good mood and I don't want to talk about it ::another tounge out::
Gotta pee, gotta eat, gotta run!!!
Comment so I know you love me ;)
I KKKNNNOOOOOOWWWWW I haven't posted and SSSOOOOO many things are to blame!!!
Every time I get a totally blogworthy ANYTHING happening I am too busy DOING it to stop and Blog It.
Sorry. Spank me, see if I care ;)
For starters (and quickly, so I catch ya'll up), I thank you for checking in still - maybe I'll get in a schedule to blab a bit.
Blabbing has already started!!!! AAAHHHHhhhhhh!! I just can't help myself!!
Alrighty - the gym is officially my social life. I missed a class two Thursdays ago and on my way in to the second class of the evening I was ASSAULTED by 4 people and casually asked by another 5 RE: my whereabouts. It was as if I was in the bathroom while winning an Emmy or something, I swear!
Anyway, it isn't all bad and it felt great to be noticed. Actually, the next Thursday I got asked by,directly and while maintaining eye contact, Blonde Bombshell if I would be coming to the next weeks class. I came home and passed out on the day of the oh-so-would-have-made-an-AWSOME-story-if-I-hadn't-just-had-his-g/f-as-my-workout-partner. Whatever. There is always this week.
Home life - fave roomie officially back with tard b/f. They sleep with each other 5 nights a week, 1/2 of them at my house. This means I wake up and don't know if I'll be fighting a 6'4 built black dude with dreds for the toilet. NICE, I know. Anyway she is in denial and its starting to grate on me that she KNOWS he is annoying but keeps talking about her 2 YEARS ago ex-fiancee like he is still anywhere in the picture and REFUSES to see Tard as the rebound she needs because they are the only two guys in the COUNTY with dreds (Psych Major Walking - beware).
The Downstairs Girls are in fine form, and if I had time I'd complain about what morons they are, but I've got NO TIME to fuss about today.
Moving on...
Family - Sister came to visit this weekend (again - I haven't NOT seen her for a weekend since the Tahoe trip, kinda freak'n me out that we are still talking, but she owes me BIG so shes staying on my sweetie pie side =) ). She realized how big her life could be if she lets it, how many opportunities she can sweep up, and how easy it can be to set up a new life if she just puts a smile on and talks to people. She also confirmed that I am a sucker for $1 shots =)
My Georgeous Girl got her summer shave this weekend and knows EXACTLY how cute she is now. I am not sure she slept at all Saturday afternoon or AT.ALL.YESTERDAY because whenever anyone would move about she would be underfoot and rolling around on her back with a BIG OL' smile on.
We love this time of year. Actually, its a little wierd because she looks like a black lab on tiny legs anyway but now with the long Cocker hair trimmed up to the skin she REALLY has a Mini-Me thing goin with Bubba, her 3 year old black lab buddy. Fave Roomie fell against the wall at the cutness of the little one; Squeeky thought the big one got a bandana as a new outfit (Mini-Me was laying on a pillow on the floor so the legs were disguised). Good Times.
Work - I am OUT OF THAT OFFICE YA'LL!!!!!
After all that, I started my new job this week. Promoted!!! I have Mousy's position in a neighboring office.
Thats Right Thats Right!!!
Its a much smaller office, but as for the administrative support staff its me and a part time front desk-er. Training this week, three day weekend, all me next week, and the $$ part of the promotion kicks in on the first.
I am THRILLED to be in a company where I am told I can move away from the front desk and then it HAPPENS!!!!! In 2.5 months I went from needing a job to being a temp to being a permanent employee to being transfered and promoted to a management position!!!! muah muah to my company and ex-Big Boss for believing in me!!!!
What else?? OOHHHHHHH -
Not to beat a dead horse, but with all this fun stuff happening (sister back in my life, home settling, pooch nearly having surgery but getting beautified instead, promotion), I have had NO aching desire to prove myself awsome to Him. ::sticking tounge out:: I mention it only because I was going through the list of people I wanted to be sure heard the news ASAP about all the goings on and He used to be about mid list... this time I just passed Him right over. Somehow Das wasn't on the list either, but I'm in a good mood and I don't want to talk about it ::another tounge out::
Gotta pee, gotta eat, gotta run!!!
Comment so I know you love me ;)
Monday, May 08, 2006
Mayo Mia
Ay my goodness this month is not my favorite already!!!
First the work thing.
Fine, good experience in reading what managers are really telling you when your talked to instead of canned.
Second, the guy thing. Sure I am thrilled to be dateable again, but that the dating site has apparently been advertising me coupled with the guy that didn't call me back this weekend and the nagging neuropatterns that revert to Him whenever I'm not paying attention... makes me want to scream a little. Not motivating enough to make me shave, even if I lay out in a bikini long enough to sunburn my entire back side at the first sight of sunlight, but enough to wonder if I need to put some dedicated effort into getting out of the house in order to meet some 3D people who don't chap my hide.
Third, the money thing. Another weekend of swiping the card and I haven't been keeping very close track of the funds for over a month now. My Gorgeous Girl went to the vet yesterday to get bloodwork done to be sure the steroids shes on so her back doesn't seize aren't wrecking her liver before I get a refill. While shes there I ask about this fatty bump on the back of her head that keeps getting scratched or something because it cakes over in protective icky stuff. The doc said the other 4 she has aren't too worrysome because they are staying where they are and not doing much but this one is obviously growing and infected and he wants it out ASAP. She now has an appt on Tuesday (THAT should be a fun kink to throw into the scheduling!) to rip a rent check worth of funds from my savings to keep her healthy. This on top of the "can't pass up a sale" binge in the alcohol isle Friday night (I can't remember the last time I bought food that wasn't from the deli, but somehow my grocery store bill is steady... problem? I don't remember having a problem.) and the $200 in bloodwork and pills I coughed on Saturday.
Fourth, this crappy weather thing. Isn't it June Gloom?? Why am I socked in four days a week? And how is my car still an inferno when I get in it after work?? I severly need to scope out my wardrobe for sticky icky appropriate outfits to peice together because this needing a sweater in the morning but sweating two steps out the building at lunch crap has got.to.stop.now. Thanks.
Fifth, this PMS thing. Two weeks ago I was upside down on roller coasters between public bathroom trips thanks to Aunt Flos amazing timing. TWO WEEKS. So how am I unbearably pissy today??? Hmmm? Answer.Me!!!
Yeah, it sounds like that in my head. It seems to be all the time nowadays. Maybe its just the two and a half days of beer and tequila talking. Maybe I'm restless since I haven't moved or found a new job in a few months. Maybe I just need some dick that I don't have to hold on to, a house that I can watch a movie in without interuption, and a room that cleans itself. Or maybe I need to learn how to run so I can get all this huff and puff out on a treadmill. LOVE my classes, but something tells me that dancing around to hip hop isn't exactly going to give the high I need to smash this funk into a million irreperable pieces.
Fuck all May days.
Or get me fucked on every May day.
Either way, this month better shape the fuck up.
Fuck.
First the work thing.
Fine, good experience in reading what managers are really telling you when your talked to instead of canned.
Second, the guy thing. Sure I am thrilled to be dateable again, but that the dating site has apparently been advertising me coupled with the guy that didn't call me back this weekend and the nagging neuropatterns that revert to Him whenever I'm not paying attention... makes me want to scream a little. Not motivating enough to make me shave, even if I lay out in a bikini long enough to sunburn my entire back side at the first sight of sunlight, but enough to wonder if I need to put some dedicated effort into getting out of the house in order to meet some 3D people who don't chap my hide.
Third, the money thing. Another weekend of swiping the card and I haven't been keeping very close track of the funds for over a month now. My Gorgeous Girl went to the vet yesterday to get bloodwork done to be sure the steroids shes on so her back doesn't seize aren't wrecking her liver before I get a refill. While shes there I ask about this fatty bump on the back of her head that keeps getting scratched or something because it cakes over in protective icky stuff. The doc said the other 4 she has aren't too worrysome because they are staying where they are and not doing much but this one is obviously growing and infected and he wants it out ASAP. She now has an appt on Tuesday (THAT should be a fun kink to throw into the scheduling!) to rip a rent check worth of funds from my savings to keep her healthy. This on top of the "can't pass up a sale" binge in the alcohol isle Friday night (I can't remember the last time I bought food that wasn't from the deli, but somehow my grocery store bill is steady... problem? I don't remember having a problem.) and the $200 in bloodwork and pills I coughed on Saturday.
Fourth, this crappy weather thing. Isn't it June Gloom?? Why am I socked in four days a week? And how is my car still an inferno when I get in it after work?? I severly need to scope out my wardrobe for sticky icky appropriate outfits to peice together because this needing a sweater in the morning but sweating two steps out the building at lunch crap has got.to.stop.now. Thanks.
Fifth, this PMS thing. Two weeks ago I was upside down on roller coasters between public bathroom trips thanks to Aunt Flos amazing timing. TWO WEEKS. So how am I unbearably pissy today??? Hmmm? Answer.Me!!!
Yeah, it sounds like that in my head. It seems to be all the time nowadays. Maybe its just the two and a half days of beer and tequila talking. Maybe I'm restless since I haven't moved or found a new job in a few months. Maybe I just need some dick that I don't have to hold on to, a house that I can watch a movie in without interuption, and a room that cleans itself. Or maybe I need to learn how to run so I can get all this huff and puff out on a treadmill. LOVE my classes, but something tells me that dancing around to hip hop isn't exactly going to give the high I need to smash this funk into a million irreperable pieces.
Fuck all May days.
Or get me fucked on every May day.
Either way, this month better shape the fuck up.
Fuck.
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
And Life Goes On
I got asked out yesterday.
We will be chatting on Saturday about what our afternoon plans will be.
Is it bad that I've been thinking that dating would be a good addition to my life these days, and when I got asked out I didn't think "wow, hes cute and smart and nice and listens when I talk and blushes when I want him too and we will hang out Saturday to see if its just both of our working personalities that jive or if we are really cool together!!", instead I thought "I need to get out and he will open my life up to getting out of the house more and gosh this is darned good timing to start my summer fling!" ?????
Is the pragmatic approach really so bad? I feel like I'm dismissing the opportunity to have that overwhelming giddyness that comes with crushin on someone - will that come later? or just after a few drinks?
*****
Remember when I talked about changing the format of the blog since I'm not a Cubvilian anymore and I wanted to stop whining about being in my 20s and start talking like I enjoy being distraught all the time??
The 100th post wasn't a strong enough motivator, but the time is upon us - well, me, to get to it.
I have been told that the girls in the office found my blog left up on my screen and were very hurt by the things I've said about them here. I am a little confused as to how that happened since I am sure to close my windows and/or log out before leaving my desk in the hands of someone else for this very reason. They read back quite far, had a printed out highlighted copy of about two inches of pages, and I have no reason to think that this web address won't be revisited by the offended parties.
After a quite lengthy discussion with both my managers, I am assured that they like my working here and feel this personal offense I've committed can be mended, but I was asked specifically not to talk about work here.
I remember Used Hack saying too many people found out about his blog and had to disappear or relocate with no trace. If you go to his old address, the entire format and voice of the blog is severly different. I don't know if that is necessary here, but with my schedule the way it has been, this office was the prime source for any thought provoking adventure in my world. Surely I will have to have a life outside of the office if I will be blogging much in the future.
Let me know if its ok to get all worked up over the date this weekend - it will foster much more entertaining posts in the future!! If you don't want to comment, email me =)
We will be chatting on Saturday about what our afternoon plans will be.
Is it bad that I've been thinking that dating would be a good addition to my life these days, and when I got asked out I didn't think "wow, hes cute and smart and nice and listens when I talk and blushes when I want him too and we will hang out Saturday to see if its just both of our working personalities that jive or if we are really cool together!!", instead I thought "I need to get out and he will open my life up to getting out of the house more and gosh this is darned good timing to start my summer fling!" ?????
Is the pragmatic approach really so bad? I feel like I'm dismissing the opportunity to have that overwhelming giddyness that comes with crushin on someone - will that come later? or just after a few drinks?
*****
Remember when I talked about changing the format of the blog since I'm not a Cubvilian anymore and I wanted to stop whining about being in my 20s and start talking like I enjoy being distraught all the time??
The 100th post wasn't a strong enough motivator, but the time is upon us - well, me, to get to it.
I have been told that the girls in the office found my blog left up on my screen and were very hurt by the things I've said about them here. I am a little confused as to how that happened since I am sure to close my windows and/or log out before leaving my desk in the hands of someone else for this very reason. They read back quite far, had a printed out highlighted copy of about two inches of pages, and I have no reason to think that this web address won't be revisited by the offended parties.
After a quite lengthy discussion with both my managers, I am assured that they like my working here and feel this personal offense I've committed can be mended, but I was asked specifically not to talk about work here.
I remember Used Hack saying too many people found out about his blog and had to disappear or relocate with no trace. If you go to his old address, the entire format and voice of the blog is severly different. I don't know if that is necessary here, but with my schedule the way it has been, this office was the prime source for any thought provoking adventure in my world. Surely I will have to have a life outside of the office if I will be blogging much in the future.
Let me know if its ok to get all worked up over the date this weekend - it will foster much more entertaining posts in the future!! If you don't want to comment, email me =)
Monday, May 01, 2006
Mounting Evidence
I am discovering why I've never been unemployed.
Yes, I constantly post from work these days and yes I tend to be cranky when I do it, but hey, I'm posting ain't I?? Give a Sass a break.
So last week I was all up and down about being able to cover for a day off but having to mentally and physically prepare for 10 hr days.
I got the overtime.
I wore comfortable shoes.
I rationed my coffee to avoid the caffeine crash that infamously has me nodding off at my desk.
I'm not kidding.
I was left with New Girl to handle the end of the week AND end of the month rush with little more than a 'yep, I'm out' from either of the offending parties.
And today we knew that New Girl had ANOTHER funeral in her family to attend (shes taken 3 full days off in three weeks of working here to deal with all the death in her circle - I burn incense in my office to keep her tainted aura out of my space).
We knew this since last week.
In fact, we were all so pleased that it would only be Monday she was taking off instead of three days at the end of last week!!
So how is it that it comes to the end of my work day, 4:30pm, and I start to log out and go tell Mousy I'm ready to go and its her turn to sit at my desk and she looks over at the seat thats been empty ALL DAY and looks back at me and looks at Ms. Status Quo's desk and then back at me and says "oh, shes not here today and she just left. oh. I have a meeting tonight. ::blank stare up at me from her chair:: um. oh. um. can you stay until at least 5pm?"
Its quarter to six.
My bladder is not happy.
My ripped nylons are creating a nice suction cup looking mark on my upper left thigh as well as cutting me in half at about the diaphram (when when when will they make 'lowrider' nylons that don't need to be tucked into the bra to stay put???).
I'm coming down off the sugar buzz that was blissfully gained by the Prailenes and Cream Baskin Robins birthday cake we had in the office today.
I am ready to go ralph all the sugary blob that is the contents of my stomach because apparently ice cream and a bottle of water do NOT equal dinner.
All of this could have been avoided, in my 20/20 hindsight, if someone had a CALENDAR that they LOOKED AT so an email could have been sent to avoid having to actually look at someone while she asked them to rearrange their lives to accomodate the office after just scrambling our schedules three times this month. Maybe even just stopping by my desk fresh from the bathroom after her daily bag of popcorn to mention that someone will be out of the office and wait for me to OFFER the solution that she can't seem to muster the confidence to spit out.
So I'm here, rackin up the hours, thrilled that my take home pay this hour is more than my normal hourly wage, and only mildly passing out from sheer exhaustion.
It was a big sister filled, money blowing, driving to the beach, eating too much, watching movies and painting toe nails and laughing at drunk roomies weekend and I was TOTALLY ready to up and walk out ON TIME today since I got almost six hours of sleep last night and my hair still looks windblown from the beach walk since I didn't get to wash it this morning but apparently there is a severe case of FUCK NO I'M STILL HERE LIKE A GOOD LITTLE MAKING-UP-FOR-PAST-LATE-DAYS GIRL that I need a vaccine for. If I could have known ahead of time this would happen, I would have put the gym bag in the car. Or asked to come in at 9am. Or just showed up at 9am to get the upper hand in this game of SCREW THE BITCH WHO WANTS A CAREER AND NOT A JOB.
I feel better.
I like getting here early. Its the staying until closing thats icken my wow.
Time to speed run across town, change into the gym garb, take the movies back, get the groomers number off the door (its right next to BB and the AWSOME thai place Sis and I found Saturday) (in hopes that I'll get 5 minutes tomorrow or any time this week to schedule anything for my personal life), and then go shake my ass like I've been sitting on it for 10 hours and HOPE AND PRAY AND SHAKE SOME MORE that it will bubble back out in time for tomorrows endurance test.
Bring on the RedBull.
Yes, I constantly post from work these days and yes I tend to be cranky when I do it, but hey, I'm posting ain't I?? Give a Sass a break.
So last week I was all up and down about being able to cover for a day off but having to mentally and physically prepare for 10 hr days.
I got the overtime.
I wore comfortable shoes.
I rationed my coffee to avoid the caffeine crash that infamously has me nodding off at my desk.
I'm not kidding.
I was left with New Girl to handle the end of the week AND end of the month rush with little more than a 'yep, I'm out' from either of the offending parties.
And today we knew that New Girl had ANOTHER funeral in her family to attend (shes taken 3 full days off in three weeks of working here to deal with all the death in her circle - I burn incense in my office to keep her tainted aura out of my space).
We knew this since last week.
In fact, we were all so pleased that it would only be Monday she was taking off instead of three days at the end of last week!!
So how is it that it comes to the end of my work day, 4:30pm, and I start to log out and go tell Mousy I'm ready to go and its her turn to sit at my desk and she looks over at the seat thats been empty ALL DAY and looks back at me and looks at Ms. Status Quo's desk and then back at me and says "oh, shes not here today and she just left. oh. I have a meeting tonight. ::blank stare up at me from her chair:: um. oh. um. can you stay until at least 5pm?"
Its quarter to six.
My bladder is not happy.
My ripped nylons are creating a nice suction cup looking mark on my upper left thigh as well as cutting me in half at about the diaphram (when when when will they make 'lowrider' nylons that don't need to be tucked into the bra to stay put???).
I'm coming down off the sugar buzz that was blissfully gained by the Prailenes and Cream Baskin Robins birthday cake we had in the office today.
I am ready to go ralph all the sugary blob that is the contents of my stomach because apparently ice cream and a bottle of water do NOT equal dinner.
All of this could have been avoided, in my 20/20 hindsight, if someone had a CALENDAR that they LOOKED AT so an email could have been sent to avoid having to actually look at someone while she asked them to rearrange their lives to accomodate the office after just scrambling our schedules three times this month. Maybe even just stopping by my desk fresh from the bathroom after her daily bag of popcorn to mention that someone will be out of the office and wait for me to OFFER the solution that she can't seem to muster the confidence to spit out.
So I'm here, rackin up the hours, thrilled that my take home pay this hour is more than my normal hourly wage, and only mildly passing out from sheer exhaustion.
It was a big sister filled, money blowing, driving to the beach, eating too much, watching movies and painting toe nails and laughing at drunk roomies weekend and I was TOTALLY ready to up and walk out ON TIME today since I got almost six hours of sleep last night and my hair still looks windblown from the beach walk since I didn't get to wash it this morning but apparently there is a severe case of FUCK NO I'M STILL HERE LIKE A GOOD LITTLE MAKING-UP-FOR-PAST-LATE-DAYS GIRL that I need a vaccine for. If I could have known ahead of time this would happen, I would have put the gym bag in the car. Or asked to come in at 9am. Or just showed up at 9am to get the upper hand in this game of SCREW THE BITCH WHO WANTS A CAREER AND NOT A JOB.
I feel better.
I like getting here early. Its the staying until closing thats icken my wow.
Time to speed run across town, change into the gym garb, take the movies back, get the groomers number off the door (its right next to BB and the AWSOME thai place Sis and I found Saturday) (in hopes that I'll get 5 minutes tomorrow or any time this week to schedule anything for my personal life), and then go shake my ass like I've been sitting on it for 10 hours and HOPE AND PRAY AND SHAKE SOME MORE that it will bubble back out in time for tomorrows endurance test.
Bring on the RedBull.
Friday, April 28, 2006
Appreciate Your Admins
So I had 90% of a rocken, hot, Sassy, fresh post about my week and work and home and gym and how I am the bestest most awsome Secretary (yeah, I said it - boo ya PC lametard terms) and how they were all bowing to my savvy and then I got spanked with them taking advantage of my work ethic and "letting" me work 7:30am-6pm TWO DAYS IN A ROW after "letting" me miss the break part of 'lunch break' ALL WEEK because they catered lunches and I didn't have a reason to fight with the girls about me getting some fresh air so I didn't snap and jab a pencil in their neck the next time they start talking RIGHT IN MY EAR when I'm on a phone call and looking at a candidate and entering data into the profile they are asking if I've seen.
Yeah.
Then for the first time in THREE WEEKS, New Girl insists that I leave my desk on the set time instead of asking if I am in the middle of 14 things and do I want to finish 1 or 6 of them in the next 5 minutes while she gets her stack of crap to do at my desk together.
No.
Today she's all "GO.TAKE.LUNCH. It will be here when you get back!"
Where was this attitude on Tuesday, my first day coming in at 7:30am (I have NEVER worked this early folks - EVVVVVVER!)???? PahLeeezzze Sweet Sore Butt Cheeks, where was this when I had to call her at 5pm and remind her that she didn't relieve me for a lunch break and that I had been working since before she woke UP and that I would like to see what its like to get off NINE HOURS after walking in and taking up my shackled position at the phones.
So I come back from my forced lunch today to find that she closed all my stuff from this morning and that your wonderful, spunky, witty post about how lovely it is to be showered with flowers and gifts and praise only to realize I will be clocking 39.5 hours in FOUR days this week with no reprise from Mousy since she is the reason my PLANNED hours for today are 7:30am-6pm (yesterday New Girl came in with a migrane and decided at 3pm she couldn't stay so I was 'allowed' to cover my own desk until 6pm . Yeah. Thanks. Tell me AFTER I forgo the break for lunch for the free food for Administrative Professionals Day instead of turning on your heels when you WALK IN ready to puke you too-scared-to-piss-off-Mousy dumbass).
Apparently when your the manager and you want the day off, you loose your authority to tell your employee that she can't have the day off too. I heard all about it as Mousy yacked her complaints to me FROM MY DESK.
Yep, she kept me from doing my job so she could tell me how she can't do hers.
Its now after HALF of my lunch hour (New Girl and I are taking 2 half hour lunches to better accomodate being stranded as each others only hope for backup all day and then being stranded All Alone with 4 scheduled candidates in the same 1/2hr time block. Thanks LameTards).
The RockStar is cracked.
The deli foods are half eaten.
The King Sized M&Ms I got handed to me is being snacked on.
The coffee has been topped off.
The water bottle is full.
I'm prepared to sit here until the sun goes down if thats what it takes to do my job WELL and be sure I'll be notifying Big Boss of all the stuff I did that Mousy didn't do that I took care of today while doing my job AND catching up for the time I had to listen to her (and everyone else in the whole office - like gossip and backstabbing are contagious and they are trying to get me to catch it or some shit).
Peace to you all. Its the afternoon lull here in Sales Friday Deadline Hell - Location 051. I beg of you to sincerely thank your admins for taking your shit all the time and remembering to Come.Back.For.More.Every.Day even though you normal treat them at their level - the bottom of the totem pole (don't believe me? When is the last time you bought them lunch? Do you know where their pay scale is compared to the rest of your company?? Toss them some M&Ms once in a while - we are like hungry lonely dogs that come back for any modest display of affection).
Hey Guess What!!! My sister is coming to visit ME this weekend!! Like I get to stay home AND visit with real live humans!!! I'm thinkin lunch in Malibu, use the Blockbuster gift card I got with my flowers for Admin Day, and lots and lots of vodka so I forget that I booked 39 hours in a 4 day week so I come back on Monday.
Cuz seriously, how am I supposed to pay for blog reading internet access without a job??
Yeah.
Then for the first time in THREE WEEKS, New Girl insists that I leave my desk on the set time instead of asking if I am in the middle of 14 things and do I want to finish 1 or 6 of them in the next 5 minutes while she gets her stack of crap to do at my desk together.
No.
Today she's all "GO.TAKE.LUNCH. It will be here when you get back!"
Where was this attitude on Tuesday, my first day coming in at 7:30am (I have NEVER worked this early folks - EVVVVVVER!)???? PahLeeezzze Sweet Sore Butt Cheeks, where was this when I had to call her at 5pm and remind her that she didn't relieve me for a lunch break and that I had been working since before she woke UP and that I would like to see what its like to get off NINE HOURS after walking in and taking up my shackled position at the phones.
So I come back from my forced lunch today to find that she closed all my stuff from this morning and that your wonderful, spunky, witty post about how lovely it is to be showered with flowers and gifts and praise only to realize I will be clocking 39.5 hours in FOUR days this week with no reprise from Mousy since she is the reason my PLANNED hours for today are 7:30am-6pm (yesterday New Girl came in with a migrane and decided at 3pm she couldn't stay so I was 'allowed' to cover my own desk until 6pm . Yeah. Thanks. Tell me AFTER I forgo the break for lunch for the free food for Administrative Professionals Day instead of turning on your heels when you WALK IN ready to puke you too-scared-to-piss-off-Mousy dumbass).
Apparently when your the manager and you want the day off, you loose your authority to tell your employee that she can't have the day off too. I heard all about it as Mousy yacked her complaints to me FROM MY DESK.
Yep, she kept me from doing my job so she could tell me how she can't do hers.
Its now after HALF of my lunch hour (New Girl and I are taking 2 half hour lunches to better accomodate being stranded as each others only hope for backup all day and then being stranded All Alone with 4 scheduled candidates in the same 1/2hr time block. Thanks LameTards).
The RockStar is cracked.
The deli foods are half eaten.
The King Sized M&Ms I got handed to me is being snacked on.
The coffee has been topped off.
The water bottle is full.
I'm prepared to sit here until the sun goes down if thats what it takes to do my job WELL and be sure I'll be notifying Big Boss of all the stuff I did that Mousy didn't do that I took care of today while doing my job AND catching up for the time I had to listen to her (and everyone else in the whole office - like gossip and backstabbing are contagious and they are trying to get me to catch it or some shit).
Peace to you all. Its the afternoon lull here in Sales Friday Deadline Hell - Location 051. I beg of you to sincerely thank your admins for taking your shit all the time and remembering to Come.Back.For.More.Every.Day even though you normal treat them at their level - the bottom of the totem pole (don't believe me? When is the last time you bought them lunch? Do you know where their pay scale is compared to the rest of your company?? Toss them some M&Ms once in a while - we are like hungry lonely dogs that come back for any modest display of affection).
Hey Guess What!!! My sister is coming to visit ME this weekend!! Like I get to stay home AND visit with real live humans!!! I'm thinkin lunch in Malibu, use the Blockbuster gift card I got with my flowers for Admin Day, and lots and lots of vodka so I forget that I booked 39 hours in a 4 day week so I come back on Monday.
Cuz seriously, how am I supposed to pay for blog reading internet access without a job??
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
Maturation
Yup.
Turns out I'm growing up.
For instance, this is my 100th post. A graduation in itself. I gave myself larangitis for the occasion!!
It coincided with my sisters birthday and a trip to Magic Mountain and 9 world class roller coasters to celebrate, but I figure I'll be so bummed with not being able to talk that email will be my only refuge.
See? Thinkin ahead. Sure sign of leaving the whimsy of childhood behind.
A recap of recent realizations that have lead me to this conclusion:
Its officially been 14 weeks since any carnal pleasures have included another's touch and I am embracing my celebacy. I'm finding it very liberating to see how long I can have the same razor in the shower, how many days I can go without a shower or a phone call, and I'm counting days instead of hours between the "Why Not Me?" that comes with singledom. Somehow not being judged on my sexual prowess alone is making me realize that whoever finally comes along that can endure the rest of my talents will be worth the wait (because I am finding my personality perks up when not stiffled by, um, MEN.)
In true psycho menstruating change her mind woman form - my Mojo is back. Yes, I am coming into my singledom and bragging that I'm being noticed by my male counterpart agian. Sure, the chicks at the gym patting my ass and the grandpa aged men sparkling that I got their joke and retorted to wit is fine... but seeing which beer is MORE on sale and giving my number to two cool cats my age with a party coming up who saw me and had to talk to me and get my number before they got into the beer case... well, thats better.
I don't even need him to call actually, I just needed the ego stroke of being noticed by guys my age - progress ya'll.
I've elicited change in my workplace. It took only weeks be get off the temporary payroll and onto a permanent gig, and in less than a month my influences are being felt in the entire office. Heck, even my ideas are coming out of my managers mouth!! She came up to me last week and spouted about changing hours to better accomodate everyone - the exact words I used in the conversation three days before were pouring from her (in a much snottier fashion, but whatever they were my thoughts)! And I got my way =)
No longer am I the lemming in the cube - I'm now the sqweeky voice that answers phones and smiles pretty again. I've been any number of titles for the same job for all my work since college and I'm damn good at it and gosh darn it, people like me. And I like them. In the first week at this job, my roomies noticed a positive change in attitude. Sure I sold out to the man, but only for six months. When this job came around, I knew the pay cut would hurt but that my soul would be crushed if I were to permanently have all day every day to check blogs. Nothing personal, but Nothing revives a people person like having to deal with people all day.
My sass is back. I realized that life is day by day and why not crack a joke under your breath about the instructors birthday being his 12th and maybe he'll finish puberty soon? Why not laugh at yourself when you trip walking up stairs you walk every day? Why not smile at the retarded bagger who Just Had To Bag Each Item In Case Of A Spill Of The Soup and throw a bigger smile at the checker who is just so sick of hearing the narration of his events?? Why not stand up tall, walk into a room chest first, and demand attention because I am a person with merit and its ok to notice me??
It left for a while. Remember?? Well, when I grow up, I want to be stronger than the person I was a few months back and so I am practicing. Well, maybe I'm more like deciding that my best isn't gonna wait until I'm grown all the way up - that now is grown up enough to start being what I 'will be when I grow up'.
Maturation. Its bound to happen eventually. I take it as a compliment that I'm still carded but that they are surprised I am so much younger than they thought. Its like in the military when you see a blazer with all those badges of honor dangling - people don't look at me and assume my naivety anymore because I'm wearing my badges.
I've got an arsenol of beauty treatments to ensure it will never be the skin telling my age. I'd rather a look in the eye prove that I have lived in my life.
"In the time of chimpanzees I was a monkey." Remember that line from that song?? It just came on the radio =) Its the same song that promotes you "go crazy with the Cheez Whiz". Kind of appropriate actually - it took me until THREE MONTHS AGO to understand the song "White Lines".
Yup. I've been a pup.
On purpose.
I figured it this way - at twelve - why be grown up if I don't have to?? Look at the life span nowadays. Why move out if I can avoid paying rent? Why rush out to get a job if I'm gonna have one forever once I get started? There had to be something about this 'childhood' business that made everyone wish they could go back to it so I decided to be a kid as long as possible.
I'm 26 and a half and I'm officially deciding not to call myself a kid anymore. I'm gonna use 'youngen' if 70somethings ask me, but these days I'm looking around at what I have and where I've been and what I've done and who I've become and there is just no calling me 'kid' anymore.
Its the 100th post. Its been 6 months since I started. The people in my life have changed considerably. My job has changed. I'd moved into this place I think two weeks before my first post, but my roomies have changed anyway. My priorities have changed from reruns to gym classes and from vodka to protein bars and from having someone to call after work to being glad I don't sit by the phone waiting for anyone. I've slept with three guys in a week and I've gone three months with only giving phone sex.
I dress like a grown up every day now.
And I look goooooood.
The trick is that I don't know where to go now. We don't really get a road map past college do we? I had it all laid out until there and here I am 5 years later and looking around at the vast opportunities and stumbling over little things like choosing an IRA over a mexican cruise and wondering if helping my sister is hurting us both and how much moxy is appropriate when you see your managers missing big opportunities for streamlining.
But the first step is knowing where I stand I suppose. And since I missed the part where I traded in my patent leather mary janes with lacy socks for hiking boots to get up and over this hill, I'm quite thrilled to realize, with my 100th post tipping me off, that I am indeed movin on up.
I was hoping to change my template but did you catch that I was at a theme park ON A MOUNTAIN today?? Yeah, I'm bushed. But I've wanted to do this post since last weekend so deal. Maybe I'll even organize my photos and get those back in the mix too huh??
Thanks for checkin in, I've been so slovenly on this front, but soon, very soon, my weekends will be mine again and my weekdays will have a little me time in them and Presto Viola I'll have stuff to blah blah blah about again. =)
Turns out I'm growing up.
For instance, this is my 100th post. A graduation in itself. I gave myself larangitis for the occasion!!
It coincided with my sisters birthday and a trip to Magic Mountain and 9 world class roller coasters to celebrate, but I figure I'll be so bummed with not being able to talk that email will be my only refuge.
See? Thinkin ahead. Sure sign of leaving the whimsy of childhood behind.
A recap of recent realizations that have lead me to this conclusion:
Its officially been 14 weeks since any carnal pleasures have included another's touch and I am embracing my celebacy. I'm finding it very liberating to see how long I can have the same razor in the shower, how many days I can go without a shower or a phone call, and I'm counting days instead of hours between the "Why Not Me?" that comes with singledom. Somehow not being judged on my sexual prowess alone is making me realize that whoever finally comes along that can endure the rest of my talents will be worth the wait (because I am finding my personality perks up when not stiffled by, um, MEN.)
In true psycho menstruating change her mind woman form - my Mojo is back. Yes, I am coming into my singledom and bragging that I'm being noticed by my male counterpart agian. Sure, the chicks at the gym patting my ass and the grandpa aged men sparkling that I got their joke and retorted to wit is fine... but seeing which beer is MORE on sale and giving my number to two cool cats my age with a party coming up who saw me and had to talk to me and get my number before they got into the beer case... well, thats better.
I don't even need him to call actually, I just needed the ego stroke of being noticed by guys my age - progress ya'll.
I've elicited change in my workplace. It took only weeks be get off the temporary payroll and onto a permanent gig, and in less than a month my influences are being felt in the entire office. Heck, even my ideas are coming out of my managers mouth!! She came up to me last week and spouted about changing hours to better accomodate everyone - the exact words I used in the conversation three days before were pouring from her (in a much snottier fashion, but whatever they were my thoughts)! And I got my way =)
No longer am I the lemming in the cube - I'm now the sqweeky voice that answers phones and smiles pretty again. I've been any number of titles for the same job for all my work since college and I'm damn good at it and gosh darn it, people like me. And I like them. In the first week at this job, my roomies noticed a positive change in attitude. Sure I sold out to the man, but only for six months. When this job came around, I knew the pay cut would hurt but that my soul would be crushed if I were to permanently have all day every day to check blogs. Nothing personal, but Nothing revives a people person like having to deal with people all day.
My sass is back. I realized that life is day by day and why not crack a joke under your breath about the instructors birthday being his 12th and maybe he'll finish puberty soon? Why not laugh at yourself when you trip walking up stairs you walk every day? Why not smile at the retarded bagger who Just Had To Bag Each Item In Case Of A Spill Of The Soup and throw a bigger smile at the checker who is just so sick of hearing the narration of his events?? Why not stand up tall, walk into a room chest first, and demand attention because I am a person with merit and its ok to notice me??
It left for a while. Remember?? Well, when I grow up, I want to be stronger than the person I was a few months back and so I am practicing. Well, maybe I'm more like deciding that my best isn't gonna wait until I'm grown all the way up - that now is grown up enough to start being what I 'will be when I grow up'.
Maturation. Its bound to happen eventually. I take it as a compliment that I'm still carded but that they are surprised I am so much younger than they thought. Its like in the military when you see a blazer with all those badges of honor dangling - people don't look at me and assume my naivety anymore because I'm wearing my badges.
I've got an arsenol of beauty treatments to ensure it will never be the skin telling my age. I'd rather a look in the eye prove that I have lived in my life.
"In the time of chimpanzees I was a monkey." Remember that line from that song?? It just came on the radio =) Its the same song that promotes you "go crazy with the Cheez Whiz". Kind of appropriate actually - it took me until THREE MONTHS AGO to understand the song "White Lines".
Yup. I've been a pup.
On purpose.
I figured it this way - at twelve - why be grown up if I don't have to?? Look at the life span nowadays. Why move out if I can avoid paying rent? Why rush out to get a job if I'm gonna have one forever once I get started? There had to be something about this 'childhood' business that made everyone wish they could go back to it so I decided to be a kid as long as possible.
I'm 26 and a half and I'm officially deciding not to call myself a kid anymore. I'm gonna use 'youngen' if 70somethings ask me, but these days I'm looking around at what I have and where I've been and what I've done and who I've become and there is just no calling me 'kid' anymore.
Its the 100th post. Its been 6 months since I started. The people in my life have changed considerably. My job has changed. I'd moved into this place I think two weeks before my first post, but my roomies have changed anyway. My priorities have changed from reruns to gym classes and from vodka to protein bars and from having someone to call after work to being glad I don't sit by the phone waiting for anyone. I've slept with three guys in a week and I've gone three months with only giving phone sex.
I dress like a grown up every day now.
And I look goooooood.
The trick is that I don't know where to go now. We don't really get a road map past college do we? I had it all laid out until there and here I am 5 years later and looking around at the vast opportunities and stumbling over little things like choosing an IRA over a mexican cruise and wondering if helping my sister is hurting us both and how much moxy is appropriate when you see your managers missing big opportunities for streamlining.
But the first step is knowing where I stand I suppose. And since I missed the part where I traded in my patent leather mary janes with lacy socks for hiking boots to get up and over this hill, I'm quite thrilled to realize, with my 100th post tipping me off, that I am indeed movin on up.
I was hoping to change my template but did you catch that I was at a theme park ON A MOUNTAIN today?? Yeah, I'm bushed. But I've wanted to do this post since last weekend so deal. Maybe I'll even organize my photos and get those back in the mix too huh??
Thanks for checkin in, I've been so slovenly on this front, but soon, very soon, my weekends will be mine again and my weekdays will have a little me time in them and Presto Viola I'll have stuff to blah blah blah about again. =)
Sunday, April 16, 2006
Death and Taxes
Its Saturday night and in my house that means that the only good time being had is by the dogs who are enjoying the thrill of realizing that when cats are chased, they become infinately more chaseable.
As for the humans, we have one out of town for the holiday (though that didn't keep her Squeeky voice from keeping me up last night, waking me this morning, and excusing away that she had to stomp around at 2pm to prove that she wasn't pissed that we decided to be in the kitchen to have lunch when she was trying to nap), another sleeping it off, and T deciding a shower might help her stay asleep since the ex b/f that she spent all week with and was here until 9:30am in her bed even with her at work at 6am keeps calling her to, um, be sure shes where he can get to her.
Then there's me.
Doing my taxes online.
Tried it??
Seems easy.
Get the form. Fill it out. Email it somewhere. Get my check in a month because I'm a looooooo-zaheeerrrrrr and lost my W-2 behind my bed and it took a FULL DAY of spring cleaning my room before I could move the desk that is my headboard enough to see it sitting there where I crumpled it when I made my bed that time.
I am starting to realize why people start protests.
And petitions.
And sit ins.
Its so the Hill Dwellers might see there is a FUCKUP in the system.
The federal site gives you a list of sites to that will do your taxes for free but I started 3 before I realized they take my address and give me the basic deduction THAT IS PRINTED ON THE 1040 ALREADY and won't take my W-2 info until I cough some cash. I found one that is letting me input some stuff but when my aunt called for the third time to remind me that I'm in charge of the garlic bread to go with our lasagna and turkey for our "small Easter dinner" (I get to bring whatever I'm drinking too... I think the fresh bottle of Disaranno will be toast inside of 4 hrs), it timed out and is now locked up and the home page doesn't have a 'login' button so I get to start over.
I kinda get that they don't want a conflict of interest for having you use THEIR irs.gov site to file, but since I got the pdf of the form and downloaded it and filled it out from irs.gov, I'm not sure why that PO Box in that city that is only PO Boxes for IRS filings doesn't have an email address yet.
I'm just say'n. Is it THAT fucking hard to read off a screen instead of a piece of paper? Can't I 'sign' it on your site??? Don't tell me irs.gov is worried about hackers but TurboTax isn't. THAT would piss me off.
So I decide to take a mini break, pour a 12oz margarita (4 ice cubes, CaboWabo tequila to cover the cubes, then margarita mix 'with the tequila already in it!' even though the bottle says its 25 proof and every tequila I've seen is 80ish - even after I add the sour mix and Triple Sec my margaritas have GOT to be about 50 proof), and try my state taxes.
Fuck dude.
Just fuck.
Again, easy form, one page, right off my W-2 (can I TELL you how glad I was that the handful of waded paper wasn't ALL the tag from my box spring!!??!?!).
Only this one won't let me save a copy.
Or save changes.
And I have to print a copy because it won't let me save one.
And I have to print it before I efile it.
And I don't have a printer and T is home and she is trying to pass out but she will be gone at 6am tomorrow because she got JACKED when the old chick healed her snowboarding accident and took all the good shifts back so I'll try to rouse myself at a reasonable hour and do my CA taxes in one helluva Good Easter Morning To Ya speed run.
Then go clean out the candy dish of all the M&Ms that T thinks are so cute (but not when they end up splitting her pants - true story) and has many many many bags of replacements that I can gorge on before the lasagna and turkey feast.
Oh, the death part is fun too.
I couldn't keep my room clean and even without doing laundry for three weeks I didn't have any room in my closet or drawers (yes, I have THAT many panty options on any given day but I was running out of gym clothes and places to stack the dirty laundry) so I took a look around and realized that I packed the really cute old school deep and kinda narrow desk drawers and never unpacked them... this meant if I could find a place for my kitchie knick knacks I could stash my camis and bras somewhere.
And I did it!!!
Helped create a hole in the mass of crap that hid my carpet so I could slide the furniture around and find the W-2s.
Making sense why it took all day???
No?
Well, I'll admit I had to dust the spaces I was clearing for the new stuff and search every paper and card and postit for a clue as to where my Secret Safe W-2 place was... but mostly I got distracted by the contents of the drawers.
Some of it I hadn't touched since I moved from Northern California.
Two years in July.
[Somehow the taxes were easier to do from there, what is that about? ]
But seeing the 3x3 pics I filled the 12 frames with to adorn my first desk for my first post college job with... and realizing how many of the pictures were taken by people I will never see again... and to see people that I lost along the way... and seeing the pooch with an all black kisser instead of the powdered doughnut eater look she has now... and seeing times and places and events that were WAY before the loss and heartache and moves and jobs and roomies and remodels and drugs and deaths and bankruptcies and lonliness.
Hence the margarita when the taxes took more than an hour to EMAIL MY NUMBERS IN.
I mean Come.On.
I was thinking the the IRS server might crash or the inbox might be full or some crap, not that they don't want me to get my numbers in!!!
Add to that the newly full windowsill of memories staring me down in my frustration and you get 4 shots of tequila and tequila'd mixer to top it off.
Blockbuster and Vons are open on Easter; think the gym will let me in? I'll need a little something healthy to mix in this weekend of memories and mixers and frustration and family.
I DID get a gracious five finger discount at my sisters old place on a tiny TV with a DVD player in it so I could curl up in my room and watch movies - and it only took me 5 days to get it from my backseat to my bedroom- THAT was a helluva Friday night ya'll, lemme tell YOU! Thinkin of a repeat, but I'm thinkin taxes are more important than taking in a romantic comedy.
Making tonight that much more decadently devilish - with the contrast and all.
Off to try another round of "please, just tell me if I owe you or if I am still lame enough to have paid you too much and you get to give me some of MY MONEY BACK".
After I suck on this ice cube...
As for the humans, we have one out of town for the holiday (though that didn't keep her Squeeky voice from keeping me up last night, waking me this morning, and excusing away that she had to stomp around at 2pm to prove that she wasn't pissed that we decided to be in the kitchen to have lunch when she was trying to nap), another sleeping it off, and T deciding a shower might help her stay asleep since the ex b/f that she spent all week with and was here until 9:30am in her bed even with her at work at 6am keeps calling her to, um, be sure shes where he can get to her.
Then there's me.
Doing my taxes online.
Tried it??
Seems easy.
Get the form. Fill it out. Email it somewhere. Get my check in a month because I'm a looooooo-zaheeerrrrrr and lost my W-2 behind my bed and it took a FULL DAY of spring cleaning my room before I could move the desk that is my headboard enough to see it sitting there where I crumpled it when I made my bed that time.
I am starting to realize why people start protests.
And petitions.
And sit ins.
Its so the Hill Dwellers might see there is a FUCKUP in the system.
The federal site gives you a list of sites to that will do your taxes for free but I started 3 before I realized they take my address and give me the basic deduction THAT IS PRINTED ON THE 1040 ALREADY and won't take my W-2 info until I cough some cash. I found one that is letting me input some stuff but when my aunt called for the third time to remind me that I'm in charge of the garlic bread to go with our lasagna and turkey for our "small Easter dinner" (I get to bring whatever I'm drinking too... I think the fresh bottle of Disaranno will be toast inside of 4 hrs), it timed out and is now locked up and the home page doesn't have a 'login' button so I get to start over.
I kinda get that they don't want a conflict of interest for having you use THEIR irs.gov site to file, but since I got the pdf of the form and downloaded it and filled it out from irs.gov, I'm not sure why that PO Box in that city that is only PO Boxes for IRS filings doesn't have an email address yet.
I'm just say'n. Is it THAT fucking hard to read off a screen instead of a piece of paper? Can't I 'sign' it on your site??? Don't tell me irs.gov is worried about hackers but TurboTax isn't. THAT would piss me off.
So I decide to take a mini break, pour a 12oz margarita (4 ice cubes, CaboWabo tequila to cover the cubes, then margarita mix 'with the tequila already in it!' even though the bottle says its 25 proof and every tequila I've seen is 80ish - even after I add the sour mix and Triple Sec my margaritas have GOT to be about 50 proof), and try my state taxes.
Fuck dude.
Just fuck.
Again, easy form, one page, right off my W-2 (can I TELL you how glad I was that the handful of waded paper wasn't ALL the tag from my box spring!!??!?!).
Only this one won't let me save a copy.
Or save changes.
And I have to print a copy because it won't let me save one.
And I have to print it before I efile it.
And I don't have a printer and T is home and she is trying to pass out but she will be gone at 6am tomorrow because she got JACKED when the old chick healed her snowboarding accident and took all the good shifts back so I'll try to rouse myself at a reasonable hour and do my CA taxes in one helluva Good Easter Morning To Ya speed run.
Then go clean out the candy dish of all the M&Ms that T thinks are so cute (but not when they end up splitting her pants - true story) and has many many many bags of replacements that I can gorge on before the lasagna and turkey feast.
Oh, the death part is fun too.
I couldn't keep my room clean and even without doing laundry for three weeks I didn't have any room in my closet or drawers (yes, I have THAT many panty options on any given day but I was running out of gym clothes and places to stack the dirty laundry) so I took a look around and realized that I packed the really cute old school deep and kinda narrow desk drawers and never unpacked them... this meant if I could find a place for my kitchie knick knacks I could stash my camis and bras somewhere.
And I did it!!!
Helped create a hole in the mass of crap that hid my carpet so I could slide the furniture around and find the W-2s.
Making sense why it took all day???
No?
Well, I'll admit I had to dust the spaces I was clearing for the new stuff and search every paper and card and postit for a clue as to where my Secret Safe W-2 place was... but mostly I got distracted by the contents of the drawers.
Some of it I hadn't touched since I moved from Northern California.
Two years in July.
[Somehow the taxes were easier to do from there, what is that about? ]
But seeing the 3x3 pics I filled the 12 frames with to adorn my first desk for my first post college job with... and realizing how many of the pictures were taken by people I will never see again... and to see people that I lost along the way... and seeing the pooch with an all black kisser instead of the powdered doughnut eater look she has now... and seeing times and places and events that were WAY before the loss and heartache and moves and jobs and roomies and remodels and drugs and deaths and bankruptcies and lonliness.
Hence the margarita when the taxes took more than an hour to EMAIL MY NUMBERS IN.
I mean Come.On.
I was thinking the the IRS server might crash or the inbox might be full or some crap, not that they don't want me to get my numbers in!!!
Add to that the newly full windowsill of memories staring me down in my frustration and you get 4 shots of tequila and tequila'd mixer to top it off.
Blockbuster and Vons are open on Easter; think the gym will let me in? I'll need a little something healthy to mix in this weekend of memories and mixers and frustration and family.
I DID get a gracious five finger discount at my sisters old place on a tiny TV with a DVD player in it so I could curl up in my room and watch movies - and it only took me 5 days to get it from my backseat to my bedroom- THAT was a helluva Friday night ya'll, lemme tell YOU! Thinkin of a repeat, but I'm thinkin taxes are more important than taking in a romantic comedy.
Making tonight that much more decadently devilish - with the contrast and all.
Off to try another round of "please, just tell me if I owe you or if I am still lame enough to have paid you too much and you get to give me some of MY MONEY BACK".
After I suck on this ice cube...
Monday, April 10, 2006
Made It.
I put 1100 miles on a rented cargo van.
The capper of the weekend was unloading the stuff into my aunts garage. We talked about how my sister can't pay for a new calling card and how my aunt is late on her electric bill but how we were hungry so we went across the street to the steak house Aunties Dreamboat/Fiancee works at and had what turned out to be $100 dinner. On my card.
I ordered crab cakes and a bottle of beer.
The rest of the weekend was kinda on that par.
I will be waking up extreeeeeemly early in the morning to unload the TV I lifted from the squaters paradise my sister was living in along with the DVD player she somehow yanked from my stuff and kept in working order this whole time before returning the rented cargo van and then going to start a work week that is already set up to be anything but predictable.
Its 11:30pm and I had to get online for some semblence of anything happening this weekend that I had any desire to do. I don't know if I have a clean pair of pants for work tomorrow, but I'll find out soon enough.
For now, I am thrilled to be in bed, covers to my shoulders, pupster sprawled all up my leg and snoring a bit.
Perhaps the pillow will rub the WELCOME sign off my forehead, or at least refresh my ego so I don't feel so much like a doormat.
Fuckin family. Why did I give them my new number again? Tell me they aren't all like this, or I'm not starting one of my own or getting any inlaws EVER.
(hey Curmudgeon, its a real shorty!!! Check it Mr. Smuggiepants! HA! I knew I could do it!!)
The capper of the weekend was unloading the stuff into my aunts garage. We talked about how my sister can't pay for a new calling card and how my aunt is late on her electric bill but how we were hungry so we went across the street to the steak house Aunties Dreamboat/Fiancee works at and had what turned out to be $100 dinner. On my card.
I ordered crab cakes and a bottle of beer.
The rest of the weekend was kinda on that par.
I will be waking up extreeeeeemly early in the morning to unload the TV I lifted from the squaters paradise my sister was living in along with the DVD player she somehow yanked from my stuff and kept in working order this whole time before returning the rented cargo van and then going to start a work week that is already set up to be anything but predictable.
Its 11:30pm and I had to get online for some semblence of anything happening this weekend that I had any desire to do. I don't know if I have a clean pair of pants for work tomorrow, but I'll find out soon enough.
For now, I am thrilled to be in bed, covers to my shoulders, pupster sprawled all up my leg and snoring a bit.
Perhaps the pillow will rub the WELCOME sign off my forehead, or at least refresh my ego so I don't feel so much like a doormat.
Fuckin family. Why did I give them my new number again? Tell me they aren't all like this, or I'm not starting one of my own or getting any inlaws EVER.
(hey Curmudgeon, its a real shorty!!! Check it Mr. Smuggiepants! HA! I knew I could do it!!)
Thursday, April 06, 2006
Dude. Um. What?
ANOTHER post about work, but I swear its a quicky.
And aren't we glad its not the SAME crap about chomping carrots and smelling of menthol and hearing freakishly small women giggling in the next cube and then coming over and snarling at open personal emails??? HHmmm??
Or is it all the same drivel and I SO need to get a life so ya'll will stop falling asleep by the end of my novella posts?
Either way, this is getting posted.
(sidebar: is there some official 100th post thing bloggers do? Its coming up quick and I don't want to miss out on some bonding like the memes or tagging or ABC list about yourself or whatever else you guys spread like lice to each other.)
So there has been an open position in the back for about a week now. The chick with the WAY too tall heels for her TweedleDee body frame and NO NOT EVER smiles demeanor finally quite waiting for a replacement and started her new job last Friday.
This is a temp agency and I know for a fact we interviewed not only 5 women specifically for the position in the last two weeks, but another 15 candidates to rifle through and ask if they are interested. Now, of the 20, to be fair, only about 7 would I consider really strong contenders... but WHAT goes on at that desk that its easier to keep interviewing for The.Only.Perfect.Replacement and suck up and take over the work than just PICK ONE and go with it and keep a lookout if she turns out to be retarded???
My questions were answered when I walked in this morning to find 2 almost welcoming faces at my desk. One was who normally covers my mornings and lunch break on Wednesdays, the other was a cutie we interviewed last week.
Turns out that for my 1 month anniversary at that desk, and my 1 week anniversary being a permanent employee, I get to train a freshie!!! Not just train, but she shadowed me the whole day. And I got NOTHING done until she left!!!
What is that?? How is it possible that all I did was talk to her about what I was normally doing through my day and I looked up at 5pm to find Not One Tinsy Bitsy bit of my inbox had been touched???
Sure, we had a surprisingly l0w number of no-shows AGAIN today, and she did stock me up on some copies, and the tech support guys were only too happy to chit chat with me since I have a personality and most tumbleweeds can't remember why they called... and when Mousy and, um, I don't have a name for her yet and Newbie were all at my desk when I came back from lunch they ALL looked shocked at the 7 new 20min projects that crowded my desk and were ALL waiting for me to throw a fit but all I gave them was "yep, its the afternoon, better get cracken!" just to watch them fluster at my ability to take it all in stride and then rack up the overtime... but is it really a good policy to hire a coworker and not even email people that there will be a new face that BELONGS on the other side of the security door???
I mean selfish desires to know what I'm doing that day BEFORE I sit down to do it aside, isn't there some kind of respect for others clause that demands you maybe mention that you offered the position to a few of the interviewees before sitting a blank stare next to the freshest meat in the building and asking for the still bleeding to wipe the spring green off someone else???
She was a quick learner and ready to chip in, but its a one person desk and since its not my position she will be taking over I felt bad that she had to endure a whole day of watching me not get anything done for the sole purpose of, well, I guess making sure she can cover a lunch break. Its important, I know, but a Whole Day?? She won't do 80% of my job!!
Heres a phone. Here is a list of extensions.
Here is a program. This is the printer it will spit out of.
This is where you leave everything for when I come back in an hour to do my job.
Training done in one hour.
So by the end of the day she was telling me her life story and all was well.
Tell you what though. Let Mousy come give me the cocked eyebrow about the applications tomorrow and I will tell her how to do her job AGAIN.
Now I'm excited. That could be rediculous fun!!!
Off for the long haul this weekend; plenty to tell when I return I'm sure.
I am just RACKEN UP the karma for spending this weekend renting a van, driving 1000 miles late night and snow conditions to move a chick whos idea of sisterly love is calling once a month and crying that her life is falling apart to me or my voice mail but not having a phone number to reach her at EVER.
Racken Um UP ya'll.
Wheres the glass case, I wanna pick some prizes. (like Chuck E. Cheese. 'member?)
Oh, and FUCK daylight savings time. I haven't been able to get to sleep before 2am all week. Its like my eyelashes are reaching for my hairline and my eyeballs are popping out of my head - THATS how awake I am right now at 1:05am after 5 hrs of sleep for the last three nights.
Where is THAT petition to sign? This night owlness kicken in BLOWS.
Oh again. Tempura talked to me last night - like a conversation with real full sentances and no one word answers!!! - and kinda mentioned that he might be thinking of telling his friends I'm his girlfriend.
Why didn't I freak out??? Where is that commitmentphobe we know and love to hate??
Thrilled that some guy is thinking nice things about me.
Chilled because he is across the country and has no bearing on my current lifestyle or lifestyle changes.
Also, at this rate, the likelyhood of anything happening that would be worthy of a freakout is about as likely as me puking butterflies.
But its a nice idea that I might be considered a g/f for a phone sex quickie and for being, "frankly, because I can't think of a better way to say it, a woman [he] can tollerate."
Ain't he sweet? ::yack::
I busted his balls on that one, then realized how disappointing it is that I can talk sex for an hour and not have the slightest urge to rub the red mountain.
Whateva.
Maybe a quick rendevous in a town I've never been to and will never go back to will break the slump, hhmmm??
And aren't we glad its not the SAME crap about chomping carrots and smelling of menthol and hearing freakishly small women giggling in the next cube and then coming over and snarling at open personal emails??? HHmmm??
Or is it all the same drivel and I SO need to get a life so ya'll will stop falling asleep by the end of my novella posts?
Either way, this is getting posted.
(sidebar: is there some official 100th post thing bloggers do? Its coming up quick and I don't want to miss out on some bonding like the memes or tagging or ABC list about yourself or whatever else you guys spread like lice to each other.)
So there has been an open position in the back for about a week now. The chick with the WAY too tall heels for her TweedleDee body frame and NO NOT EVER smiles demeanor finally quite waiting for a replacement and started her new job last Friday.
This is a temp agency and I know for a fact we interviewed not only 5 women specifically for the position in the last two weeks, but another 15 candidates to rifle through and ask if they are interested. Now, of the 20, to be fair, only about 7 would I consider really strong contenders... but WHAT goes on at that desk that its easier to keep interviewing for The.Only.Perfect.Replacement and suck up and take over the work than just PICK ONE and go with it and keep a lookout if she turns out to be retarded???
My questions were answered when I walked in this morning to find 2 almost welcoming faces at my desk. One was who normally covers my mornings and lunch break on Wednesdays, the other was a cutie we interviewed last week.
Turns out that for my 1 month anniversary at that desk, and my 1 week anniversary being a permanent employee, I get to train a freshie!!! Not just train, but she shadowed me the whole day. And I got NOTHING done until she left!!!
What is that?? How is it possible that all I did was talk to her about what I was normally doing through my day and I looked up at 5pm to find Not One Tinsy Bitsy bit of my inbox had been touched???
Sure, we had a surprisingly l0w number of no-shows AGAIN today, and she did stock me up on some copies, and the tech support guys were only too happy to chit chat with me since I have a personality and most tumbleweeds can't remember why they called... and when Mousy and, um, I don't have a name for her yet and Newbie were all at my desk when I came back from lunch they ALL looked shocked at the 7 new 20min projects that crowded my desk and were ALL waiting for me to throw a fit but all I gave them was "yep, its the afternoon, better get cracken!" just to watch them fluster at my ability to take it all in stride and then rack up the overtime... but is it really a good policy to hire a coworker and not even email people that there will be a new face that BELONGS on the other side of the security door???
I mean selfish desires to know what I'm doing that day BEFORE I sit down to do it aside, isn't there some kind of respect for others clause that demands you maybe mention that you offered the position to a few of the interviewees before sitting a blank stare next to the freshest meat in the building and asking for the still bleeding to wipe the spring green off someone else???
She was a quick learner and ready to chip in, but its a one person desk and since its not my position she will be taking over I felt bad that she had to endure a whole day of watching me not get anything done for the sole purpose of, well, I guess making sure she can cover a lunch break. Its important, I know, but a Whole Day?? She won't do 80% of my job!!
Heres a phone. Here is a list of extensions.
Here is a program. This is the printer it will spit out of.
This is where you leave everything for when I come back in an hour to do my job.
Training done in one hour.
So by the end of the day she was telling me her life story and all was well.
Tell you what though. Let Mousy come give me the cocked eyebrow about the applications tomorrow and I will tell her how to do her job AGAIN.
Now I'm excited. That could be rediculous fun!!!
Off for the long haul this weekend; plenty to tell when I return I'm sure.
I am just RACKEN UP the karma for spending this weekend renting a van, driving 1000 miles late night and snow conditions to move a chick whos idea of sisterly love is calling once a month and crying that her life is falling apart to me or my voice mail but not having a phone number to reach her at EVER.
Racken Um UP ya'll.
Wheres the glass case, I wanna pick some prizes. (like Chuck E. Cheese. 'member?)
Oh, and FUCK daylight savings time. I haven't been able to get to sleep before 2am all week. Its like my eyelashes are reaching for my hairline and my eyeballs are popping out of my head - THATS how awake I am right now at 1:05am after 5 hrs of sleep for the last three nights.
Where is THAT petition to sign? This night owlness kicken in BLOWS.
Oh again. Tempura talked to me last night - like a conversation with real full sentances and no one word answers!!! - and kinda mentioned that he might be thinking of telling his friends I'm his girlfriend.
Why didn't I freak out??? Where is that commitmentphobe we know and love to hate??
Thrilled that some guy is thinking nice things about me.
Chilled because he is across the country and has no bearing on my current lifestyle or lifestyle changes.
Also, at this rate, the likelyhood of anything happening that would be worthy of a freakout is about as likely as me puking butterflies.
But its a nice idea that I might be considered a g/f for a phone sex quickie and for being, "frankly, because I can't think of a better way to say it, a woman [he] can tollerate."
Ain't he sweet? ::yack::
I busted his balls on that one, then realized how disappointing it is that I can talk sex for an hour and not have the slightest urge to rub the red mountain.
Whateva.
Maybe a quick rendevous in a town I've never been to and will never go back to will break the slump, hhmmm??
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
