Do the right thing, colleagues-we-don’t-miss edition

September 18th, 2017, 8:00 AM by Goddess

I hate people who brag about their good deeds.

But since I’ve been ranting about my most-recent ex-boss defriending me for no reason, arguably at the worst time to piss off someone so connected in the field he wants to work in, I have an update.

Through the power of the same social network, I learned he’s applying someplace else. And not getting much in the way of positive references. Other than, “Nice guy but not sure what, if anything, he did there.”

So I actually did have something nice to say. Beyond the, “Nice guy, but not real sure what he did here.”

He’s a good writer. Specifically, he was very able to channel the voice of the company owner. I knew the services weren’t being written by the owner, because he’s already working 100 hours a week on other things.

But even my trained eye would often wonder, “Wait, that HAS to be the owner! No? Wow, that ghost is good.”

And I said as much, to the person asking.

In any event, if this guy gets this gig, I won’t expect a thank-you. My contribution is unconditionally anonymous.

But seriously. This is a lesson in don’t piss off someone who can really help you.

I didn’t *have* to be nice. But it does my heart good to know that I did the right thing.

A Cat-5 cataclysm in my mind

September 14th, 2017, 9:59 AM by Goddess

1. We Floridians can weather a Category 5 storm without even putting down our beers. But come on, people. There are only two working traffic lights on my 26-mile commute. Do you really not know that you’re NOT supposed to slam on the gas when you approach these brand-new four-way stops?

2. Shit for Fucking Brains tRump just landed in Florida. I wonder if Slut for Brains Melania is wearing camo-colored stilettos. Go the fuck away both of you. Wish Mar-a-Lago washed out to sea. It’s fucking hideous. The Merriweather-Posts are probably rolling over in their graves at the sheer gaudiness of it all. And also that fucking TRASH lives there now. #MAGA

3. These uncouth fucks sold Make Attorneys Get Attorneys #MAGA hats to underwater Texans. Maybe they will sell tank tops here since it’s a thousand degrees and eight people have died in a nursing home so far that didn’t have A/C.

4. Speaking of uncouth fucks, the only people I want banished to Siberia as much as those two are my latest batch of upstairs neighbors. Last night it was screaming, stomping, pissing, screaming, pissing WHILE screaming, guitars and more screaming ALL NIGHT LONG. Die. Die. Die. Just DIE. #MAGA

5. And for all those OTHER uncouth fucks who tell me “just move” like the assholes who told me “just evacuate,” please join that crowd at the end of a dock in Cudjoe Key next time a Category 5 hurricane slams into it head-on. You cough up first month’s rent, last month’s rent, full-month deposit and pet fees/rent (Six Grand. I’ll Wait) and we’ll talk.

6. Not sure why I had to come back to work and half the company didn’t. But whatever. I enjoyed being insanely busy. And I realized that even though we’ve let a lot of really good people go, the rest who stayed home did us a favor by staying out of our way. Can we make some trades now?


September 10th, 2017, 12:24 PM by Goddess

The cunt formerly known as Hurricane Irma — who is also bringing tornadoes, flooding and crazy-ass winds — is almost here.

Key West? Wiped out. Naples/Fort Myers/Tampa? Next up.

Speaking of wipeouts, check out this joker taking a selfie at Southernmost Point.


Meanwhile, a disaster (Rick Scott) called up a disaster (that Trump dude) to declare Florida a disaster area. Sounds about right.

Here in PBC, the winds are now 55 mph. My lone screen (bedroom) is about to fly into the great unknown. The “hurricane glass” in the living room is leaking from the rains. Irma hit Key West as a Category 4 and even though PBC is out of the “cone of destruction,” I am not hopeful that this apartment will stay dry-ish. Nor my storage unit with my entire life’s history (and writings) in cardboard boxes. Or that they will even be there now with tornadoes ripping through the southeast portion of the county.

I do have a bug-out bag, though. Filled with pink tank tops from my favorite underwater towns, a pink phone charger and Pink! (Rinaldi) wine. Because, this Florida girl color-coordinates her shit, even when she is LOSING her shit.

The cat is nuts. The bathtub in this 11-year-old apartment does not hold water. My bathroom, previously designated as the “safe room,” sounds like an airplane hangar because of the winds hitting the concrete. (Did you know a Category 2 storm can snap concrete in half? I didn’t. TILL NOW.)

I’ve eaten two pints of Halo Tops (chocolate and chocolate-banana. Mmmmm). And we have some good loot from Disney. (OMG churro popcorn holy shit get me back there nooowwwwww.)

Not sure what else to say about this storm. Here is a loose collection of thoughts.

  • Miami forced homeless into shelters against their will.
  • Everywhere else turned away anyone without proof of address.
  • A prison on Stock Island is now Noah’s Ark. Wildlife of all sizes have a place to ride out this historic storm.
  • Prisoners all over the state got transferred to higher ground. But my police department and most others said don’t call them if you are in danger and couldn’t evacuate (due to lack of money and/or lack of anyplace to go).
  • The cone shifted west thanks to Category-4 Jose to our east. PBC is fucking lucky.
  • Special thanks to Chris & Mandy in Jersey, Kelly & Sarah in NC and Laura in Baltimore for begging me to bring mom and Kadie to safety. And to my dear Trevor who, from New Orleans, got me an offer in Asheville. I am overwhelmed by their kindness. And if it weren’t such a clusterfuck to find gas, I might have chanced taking Stewie out of state.
  • The Turnpike and stations just off 95 got gas regularly, though. I heard the 7-11 at my 95 exit got shipments every morning at 7 am through yesterday. I fueled up there, ran some errands (sans A/C) and parked Stewie’s butt for the duration.
  • Tornadoes right now heading for Boca/Rey, as I call it. Or as I also call it, home. PSL got them last night, as did Laudy. Ft. Pierce is flooded. Construction cranes fell down in Miami. (Read: crashed into a high-rise. Because it takes two weeks to take down a crane and they “only” had one week to prepare.) We (PBC) ain’t seen nothing yet.

I think that’s all for now. Gotta keep things charged up. Maybe grab a nap. At least I can barely hear the fuckheads upstairs with the current 55 mph winds.

See you on the flipside. Here’s to hoping there is one …

Tired of being this tired

August 13th, 2017, 7:38 AM by Goddess

I don't post about weight loss much because I've been stagnant.

Actually I lied. Not stagnant at all.

In fact, since we got ripped out of our old jobs on May 1 and put into our new reality, I've gained everything back that I lost since Jan. 1.

Of course, I'm the last Mohican standing from the Dream Team. So I ain't got nothin' to complain about. At least my paycheck keeps coming and I have the opportunity to keep working my ass off for it.

(My bestie's last day of work, this week. I miss her so much already.)

And I'm tired.

Not of the work, the job or the incredible shrinking number of friends who are still there with me.

(The "mean girls" at dinner Friday. I love us!)

I'm tired of always having to be "on." Of saying yes a whole lot more than I want to.

And that, lately, has been true of cakes and beer and chips and BREAD OMG BREAD and other things that I've avoided like the plague these past two years.

Yes, yes to all of it! Especially the 2-for-1 wine specials at our favorite after-work haunt.

I've been slipping with my weight loss because I'm sick of my friends ordering what they want while I'm trying to be "good."

I'm sick of ordering the "healthy" option, only for it to be 25 SmartPoints and I'm only supposed to have 30 in a day.

It's exhausting to ask disinterested servers what's in this and can you change that up. I hate being "that" customer and I hate that half these people waiting on me (or their kitchen staff) can't get it right, anyway.

It's frustrating to need something to crunch on when you ask for help and they either lie and claim they have no time to help ("But by all means, call me for anything else you need, even any of the 'grunt work' because I'm not above doing whatever it takes to help.") …

Or, worse, they claim that they helped. (In six minutes? You read a 17-page Word doc TWICE in SIX MINUTES before your daily extended lunch break? No one else got a lunch break. Or, ya know, FOOD.)

I'm tired of corking these feelings. And of complying with this person's rules for when I can and cannot leave my desk.

And of never feeling safe. And of letting my mind wander to what would happen to mom and me without money to pay the rent. Hard enough for her to be sick in a house where everyone is loud and nasty and meth-addicted duck-murdering and Trump-voter-level deplorable. Better here than in the streets, though.

I'm going to turn this around. There are going to be some big changes this week. New routine. And a couple other new things I’m not ready to reveal yet.

Out with the old, and that includes the pounds …

August and everything after

August 4th, 2017, 7:24 AM by Goddess

The irony is almost delicious.

The same group of people who made my life hell after my job/department/business we were building fell apart …

Are now watching the business THEY were building together crumble …

Because one of the people who championed our demise is leaving

OK, that particular irony isn't so sweet.

But this is …

Collective "They" never understood why I was so sad. They thought this was so much better. Now they are starting to see what it's like when a key player quits and good people get cast aside.

Fucking hurts.

I've been gracious. Sharing my expertise and experiences. Giving them the consolation that it took me three months to find on my own.

I actually do like these people. And I think they realize things have to break to be fixed. And that given the opportunity to fix it or let it implode, well, get ready to live with a lot of uncertainty.

I just hope they get how differently I treated them when it was their world falling apart than they did when it was mine.

Because, my world is imploding again too …