So I’m sitting in the handbasket, with rocket fuel in the tank.
Someone’s standing nearby with a flamethrower.
And shit’s going to get real when they figure out how to use it.
I expect that will happen within the hour.
So I’m taking this final quiet moment to ponder something.
All I have to say is this.
I have plans at 9:30 p.m. Yes, a school night.
I’d better be on time, damn it.
Hope the handbasket is intact enough to get me there.
So we’re hiring. Four people, all told, this round.
I extended the first offer tonight.
Tomorrow, another. And two more projects to assign to two others to possibly hire at a later date.
Mom said don’t hire anyone smart. Wouldn’t want them to outshine me.
I said yeah, because THAT strategy works out so well. I’d rather hire people who make me better than make me dumber.
I’ve been delegating a bit to a great gal we picked up recently. Including being my anti-Anger Translator.
And today she, the nicest person on earth, is like how do you deal with people who can’t follow simple instructions?
And that’s why you keep hiring the smartest people you can find. So you don’t want to quit or to lose your prized people when they are ready to give up, too.
This morning, I thought about someone who stresses me out very much. The one who held so much promise. The one who is now banished to the bowels of hell if they ever need a favor from me since they never served their intended purpose.
And I thought, this person will surprise me today. In a good way, of course — I have to qualify that kind of statement. Because, reasons.
I’ll have to report back if a miracle occurs. Or at least if head-scratching is kept to a minimum.
Me: Remembers outstanding project.
Me: Hey friend, go ask so-and-so about such-and-such
Friend: They swear they are working on it and they are doing it X way.
Me: Groan
Friend: Yeah so I said well we really want it Y way.
Me: Love you
Friend: So, so-and-so said, “Yes, that’s exactly what I was going to say.”
Me: Groan
Friend: You hear that a lot?
Me: You could say.
Friend: I don’t get it. If you were going to say it, then say it first.
Me: Or do it.
Friend: That works too.
I bought a five-day pass to a music festival that starts Wednesday. Too bad it’s going to be a psychotic week.
It’s been a psychotic weekend too.
Called the cops on the loud assholes upstairs. Told the landlord. The landlord told the HOA. The HOA told them to act right or eviction ahoy.
So it’s probably no coincidence that my car, that I haven’t moved since before I called the cops, has been vandalized.
I’m trying very, very hard to not lose my shit. But I went out yesterday and I could hear loud bickering in foreign languages, and I was ready to jump on people and beat them. Like, could it be the assholes upstairs?
I’ve spent my whole life correcting my family and friends when they decided to hate on a race or a nationality or their neighborhood or even their sun sign because of their past negative experiences. That doesn’t mean everyone who reminds you of them is a moron.
But I am starting to understand it. After you hire two people who turn out very similarly, let’s say, you draw parallels you didn’t want to draw. Fairly or unfairly. Generally, unfairly. But still.
And now that I have people probably screaming “death to the infidel downstairs” and tampering with my vehicle on top of it, you best fucking believe I don’t trust anyone who might be plotting my demise in front of me in a language I can’t understand.
Am I being overdramatic? Sure. Possibly. I just don’t function well when I’m angry part of the day, scared for another part and exhausted for all parts.
I’m just trying to look forward to this week’s festival, and I know Teh Crazy in the other part of my life stands to put a big dent in it.
All I can say is that a big giant yam fit is coming.
If you’ve ever tried to scan my 14-year archives (gah), you get the error message in the title of this post.
I think I need it emblazoned on a T-Shirt today.
Up all night thanks to screaming neighbors upstairs. I called the cops at 11:30 p.m.
They came. And went.
The neighbors stood outside and screamed at them for a half-hour, browbeating them into revealing who the “anonymous caller” is who brought them there.
They caved. I’m toast. They will find me. They guaranteed it.
You know, instead of SHUTTING THE FUCK UP and acknowledging you’re in a nice fucking building full of people who don’t need to hear your domestic violence.
They went right back to screaming and throwing shit till well into the wee hours of the night.
This is a huge day in my world. Not for any good reasons. I’m about to catch an absolute avalanche of stuff. And now that the crackheads have finally fallen asleep, I don’t know how to stay awake to do it all.
Glad I worked late last night. Not that I could come home and relax. But at least I got one “today” project done in advance.
Now if only I could stay awake long enough to do the rest.
Somebunny continues to inspire awe. And not in a good way.
Honest to God, I can’t fabricate the stories I want so badly to tell.
But they are safe.
They will probably outlast me.
They suck.
Meanwhile those on the outbound train just sent me more to do.
Another late night.
And no one to share it with.
Can’t wait to see what Somebunny has in store for me today.
I am starting to worry that I’m going to become violent.
Somebunny may put Throat-Punch Thursday to good use after all.
I can’t wait till I can write about it.
Lord please let it be sooner rather than later.
Caught between the Vague and the Obtuse.
Sounds like a soap opera.
I’m feeling more squeezed than O.J.’s balls during a prison search.
Probably contradictory to my last post. But it’s a separate scenario.
You don’t expect the Goddess to not have multiple things going on, do you now?
I just sent this to a friend. And not the one who needs to see it most.
We all deserve “wow.” Too many take “meh.” Maybe that’s OK for some people. But not for me.
You think the only option you have is the one in your hands, but it’s not. That’s just the only option you can see right now.
What would happen if those other options knew you were single? If they knew you were unhappy in that “thing” they saw you in? If there was finally an empty space next to you at the bar that they could slip into and chat you up?
You won’t know, until you say no to “good” in order to make room for “great.”