‘What are you supposed to do, anyway?’

November 8th, 2017, 3:30 PM by Goddess

Had a salad at the mall with one of my boys, as is our Wednesday tradition.

We figure it’s a good supervisory session. We sure talk about the thing our jobs revolve around an awful lot. And it’s nice to do so as we power-walk and wind up in Starbucks for our afternoon java.

Today he asked what my title is. I mean, he knows it’s “his boss.” “But what does that mean to them?” he wanted to know.

He’s not trying to be anything other than curious. Because my boss and my boss’ boss called a meeting with him this afternoon. Why am I not a part of it?

If it were anywhere else, I’d wonder and worry and lobby to be in with the in crowd. But here, if I’m not babysitting everything else, someone would start playing with matches and burn the place down.

When I got the title, it was basically, “Just keep doing everything you’ve been doing for the past six years.” You know, under a lesser title.

I mean it about the babysitting though. I told him a string of six stories from today alone — from having to tell someone that you cannot spell it “thrown” in print when it’s what a king sits on, and that you should know how many newsletters Guy XYZ writes, and that if I ask you to do something and you ignore me without giving me a reason why you don’t think it’s a good idea, you don’t get to be mad when I assume you just don’t read your emails in full — and he was like wow.

As in, wow — all those ideas in your head and brainpower and knowledge and HISTORY … sitting idle.

Yeah I’m not going to take over the world at this rate. But at least the poop and throw-up I clean up is mostly metaphorical. And it beats doing it all by myself. And when the time comes that that changes, I am pretty sure I have the power to make that happen.



Where the hell do I even begin

October 31st, 2017, 6:35 PM by Goddess

Every day, it’s the same.

Fix insane amounts of other people’s fuckups.

Get cryptic email from owner.

Spend an hour interpreting it.

Field at least 20 interruptions from people who know better about things they should know better about.

Give email to at least two other people to get their interpretation. They interpret it completely differently from each other AND from me.

Spend another hour implementing owner’s request as I understand it.

Return to fixing others’ fuckups on other unrelated projects.

Spend at least 15 minutes apologizing to the owner for the part that I misunderstood … the part someone else fucked up in helping me implement it … and getting four more instructions that I’m certain will get fucked up despite my best intentions. Like military time. How do I get all the complicated shit right and yet fucking schedule something at 1500 hours when I knew in my head, heart and soul that he wanted it at 1600?!?!



Well that was awkward

October 1st, 2017, 9:10 AM by Goddess

Got the old band back together yesterday.

No, not the one that was eviscerated because the LVP of the team left earlier this year.

The one BEFORE that. The one I left to join the one that I miss every day. The one where I missed the team BEFORE for quite some time, too.

Let’s just say yesterday’s waterfront lunch was the most grammatically correct meeting of the minds in history.

I feel terrible though because the two of us at the lunch who are on the current team could not help but telling stories (so many stories) to the escapee at the table about their replacement.

And it’s funny to hear nice people vent. Everything is bookended with, “I feel so bad for thinking this.”

It’s not fair to compare people. But damn. If only this one had stayed, things would be as perfect as they could get.

This guy ran screaming from the lunch. Here’s to a next time, and having anything else to talk about …



Imperfect friends, deadly enemies

September 16th, 2017, 9:49 AM by Goddess

On last night’s “Real Time,” Salman Rushdie reminded Bill Maher of his quote about how liberal purists need to learn “the difference between an imperfect friend and a deadly enemy.”

It was in reference to the dumbfuck Bernie voters who couldn’t stomach Hillary, or the indifferent who didn’t bother voting at all, for sticking us with that shit for brains who’s in the White House now. His comment was specific to the first 100 days of hell, and I can extend it to the embarrassing three visits the slob-in-chief and the First Slutty made to my state. Go the fuck away, to hell from which you were sent.

In any event, why yes, when recently asked what I’m looking for in a significant other, my first and only response was: “VOTED FOR HILLARY.”

Not “would have voted” or “considered voting” for her. Actually pulled the fucking lever to save our nation from impending doom, war with North Korea, trade war with our very good neighbor Mexico, and cultural wars that would make 1940s segregated America proud.

Speaking of which, Hillary’s new book is in my mailbox. Must run downstairs when I hit “publish” …

So much good loot! Postcards from Dave, stickers from Etsy and healing words from the popular vote winner.

Where was I? Oh yeah. Wars on my own front.

I was lamenting to a friend that the same person who ratted me out for wearing shorts (that got me kicked out of work) was eye-rolling at me ABOUT the person who kicked me out … and they were eye-rolling ABOUT my deportation.

Honey, if you think I am going to say something bad about THAT person (although, yes, I do have many feelings on that front), you’re dumber than you think I am. In fact, I said it’s OK and it taught me to figure out what DOES work, and to stick to it religiously.

Same with someone who is withholding the one thing from me that I want in this stupid world. Begging doesn’t work. Shaming doesn’t work. Ignoring the issue doesn’t work. Offering cash doesn’t work. But again, I’m sure folks are going for the reaction from me.

But to Salman’s, and originally Bill’s, point, these aren’t deadly enemies. That’s Trump. It’s not Hillary (to the Bernie bots and dumb fuck Trump voters). Hillary and the people I talked about today are imperfect friends.

Hillary would have been a survivable event to the Bernie bots and Trump voters. Trump is NOT a survivable event. My “friends” are a survivable event.

And so, as with the absolute disgrace this country has become, in my life too I am just grateful it isn’t scorched earth. Funny how you come to accept in life that a low bar is still a bar.

And for someone who barely drinks anymore, it’s not that hard to just ignore the bars for the most part because they really don’t affect your life either way, anyway.



#irmagerd

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.

Link: https://qz.com/1073601/webcam-watch-people-take-selfies-as-theyre-engulfed-by-hurricane-irma-in-key-west/

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 …



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 …



It’s like we’re not all over the age of 40 here or anything

August 1st, 2017, 6:43 PM by Goddess

I don’t generally de-friend anyone unless they voted for that orange shitgibbon in the White House.

I unfollow, yes. Keep the friendship, stop seeing the updates. Peek in from time to time, move along when there’s nothing to see.

But apparently I’ve just gotten myself de-friended in grand fashion … across every single platform … which I might have noticed sooner had I not muted their updates in the first place.

I will have more to say on this topic another day. Because I was being nice, just lying low.

I’m sick of being nice.

Better delete this RSS feed from your list, too, then …



Injury without the insult 

June 19th, 2017, 5:55 PM by Goddess

Worked from home today. It was all I dreamed it could be. And none of the being fetched, save for a couple phone calls that I could react to without trying to remain silent. 

Guess I have to go back. Sigh. So nice without the two hour drive and the human interaction. I mean, isn’t saying hi once a month enough? Takes up too much time to do it every day. 

Thanks, giant goose egg, for the good day. 



Ass over teakettle

June 18th, 2017, 8:03 PM by Goddess

Tripped not over the cat, but just in front of her.

Usually she trips me and I can tumble pretty gracefully. But today, like most everything except that Hazmat area my career has turned into, it’s my own damn fault. 

Is that a golf ball in your left foot, or are you just happy to see me?

Here’s to hoping Lundbergh can ease off the summoning, lest I use my crutches as the blunt objects I’ve been dreaming of. 



QOTD

May 23rd, 2017, 5:31 PM by Goddess

“You have to kiss ass with tongue.  Don’t stop till you hit corn.”