This week I’m …
1. Getting a toof drilled first thing tomorrow. And paying out-of-pocket.
2. Taking the car in for repairs first thing Tuesday. Assuming there’s any money left.
3. Moving to a new office Tuesday afternoon.
Could moving apartments finally be in my future soon, too?
Did you ever send someone an e-mail listing someone else’s e-mail address incorrectly … and then want to create a new e-mail address rather than tell the recipient you typed it wrong because they will have yet another reason to be a jerk to you?
***
Ever have someone try to tell you how to do something in YOUR specialty area, and you want to say, “Yo. I’ve been at this company longer than you’ve been IN THIS INDUSTRY. I got this.”
***
Did you ever have someone tell you who their dream person is — or maybe who they’d want on their own little planet if they ever founded one — and you weren’t on it? Do you point out that their fantasy league is just that, or do you say truthfully, well, I wouldn’t want you to show up at my speed-dating table, either?
***
Ever visit the FB page of the biggest whore in all the lands and want to ask WHAT ARE YOU THINKING posting pics that make you look a thousand years old (wait, she IS a thousand years old) and comments that make you sound like an incoherent mess? What if, say, old Whorothy made it possible to comment on her shit? Could you NOT?
Of course, what I really want to know is why everyone encourages her delusions …
***
Did you ever throw away every copy ever written from the “Sweet Valley High” series — in MINT condition — and just wish you had them all back so you could curl up in your lost innocence and idolize Jessica while basking in the safety of being an Elizabeth in real life?
1. After breathing the same truck’s exhaust for 17 miles, I am doing a Countdown to Civilization. I need a move date for the office. And I am going to Cabbage Patch my pudgy pork roast butt off when moving day arrives.
2. Fun with headlines (although abbreviated because, lazy): Fed Cancels Plans to Fly Migrants to California for Processing. Soylent Green processing?
3. I found an old content strategy that I had drafted up for one of my failed employment adventures. It’s funny how companies let me waste my real talents, which I think is strategy but I always find myself in “thinking on the spot” situations and never really moving past them. Because, I don’t know how. So, maybe I suck at strategy after all.
4. That said, I got a really good idea that I can use now. Well, in time, anyway. If I can figure out how to have it make money, I will be all over it.
4.a. Was that me getting my fire back?
5. My body clock detests everyone who gives me pre-market work. Every time I start my day earlier, I end it later because I’m tired all day and can’t “get it up” for the creative outbursts I used to experience.
5.a. Fire extinguished so soon?
Did you also know that your brain generates 50,000 thoughts a day? Or that you consume approximately 14 different types of food each day? (Data found in a book. Yes, I read offline!)
My day wasn’t insanely busy. I haven’t had a “slow” day since like 1973, when I was FORMING IN THE WOMB, so I wasn’t sure what to make of it. Here are some of those 50,000 thoughts:
1. While my “underling” was busy identifying a problem that I should have had the wits about me to see coming or at least to research, I was busy placating somebody who was whining that he didn’t like this past weekend’s WordPress upgrade and that, no, my tech team didn’t do anything to fuck up his life.
2. I spent 10% of my day doing real work and 90% playing messenger/therapist/fluffer. And avoiding someone’s calls because everyone else has An Opinion and frankly I just couldn’t be arsed today to deal with this particular fire.
3. My crypto-fascist apartment overlords are pissed off that I have a welcome sign on my door and they say they will terminate my lease because of it. And … if I could get a few days off of work, I would be GLAD to pack and RUN.
4. What the hell are we hanging in there / fighting for anyway? Not just at home. Everywhere. What if the one reason we’re all adhering our codependent asses to each other is just a pipe dream?
5. I took a wrong turn onto 95 and found myself mindlessly barreling toward Daytona Beach. But, what would really stop me from flooring it and never looking back? NOT MUCH.
I’ll blow my bandwith if I go to 50,000. But these are the things I think when I’m not psycho-busy. No wonder they keep me overloaded. Thinking is dangerous … and not dangerous for me …
I might have done a bad thing today.
Because of someone delaying something at work for six months, it contributed to me losing my vacation.
So today I was in HR because my bonus got screwed up (they gave me too much and I had to write them a check. Even though I said, hey, can we consider it payment for that vacation I never got? *cue the Vinny Barbarino “Hah. Hah. Hah. Hah. Hah.”) and I mentioned that, oh yeah, one of your buddies was a big reason for why my first vacay day of 2013 was DECEMBER TWENTY-SEVENTH.
I was wondering if she might say something to said person. It wasn’t a formal complaint but I wasn’t screwing around, either. Of course, their friendship may be why she is good to me. *Shrug*
Can’t win. Why try?
I had made a joke about the overpaid bonus. I said, “What, are you going to give it to (Boss’ favorite whom I’m convinced gets more money, a better title and a bigger bonus than me)?”
She said no.
So later Boss’ favorite (who I really like too. I see why.) comes over and says, hey, her bonus was underpaid … by the exact amount mine was overpaid.
Fucking psychic vibes. Seriously. I should have just written her the damn check and not the company.
Remember, I know nothing and I’m just trying out my intuition here. I will never know and I don’t want to know. I am just grateful I got *Something* and I would pretty much just die if the perceived inequality were proven actual.
That’s OK. HR encouraged me to stop it with the working nights, weekends and holidays. And I am totally following that advice. I even went out tonight! I have gone out once a week for the past four weeks!
Anyway, I am grateful that I had a good year in 2013. Damn near killed me, but I have a couple bucks to spend at IKEA … or more likely, to spend on healthcare for mom.
My psychic friend said she saw me taking a trip in the first half of this year. She said it was going to become somewhat of a spiritual retreat for me, and I would come back transformed.
The good news is, she said I wouldn’t have to travel far if I didn’t want to. Hmm. IKEA?
“I would wait all my days to hear the words I need you to say
To keep me hanging on and not walking away
But you don’t say anything do you.”— Anderson East, “Say Anything”
The wine is starting to kick in. So, yeah. You know how these sorts of things end up.
Random item No. 1: I finally called Whorothy a whore to Topo Gigio. It has been a long time since I’ve felt like myself, and I’m starting to feel her again lately. And while I don’t think I’ve held back anything from TG, frankly I realize I have nothing to lose.
I think maybe I always wondered if there were some phantom chance hanging over us. But even if that were the case, frankly he needs someone to kick him in the ass. Because if he actually thinks old whorebag is ever going to come around, he best not expect his real friends to welcome her with arms as wide open as her legs.
Anyway, he’s gone silent. Maybe he doesn’t even care what I said and he’s just busy. Or maybe this is it. I’m not even going to wax poetic here. I want more for myself and I want people in my life with the same ambition.
Random item No. 2: So I met this random interloper, not necessarily a snowbird but definitely someone who only comes to Florida for the fair weather. I had a very hot dream about him last night. Actually it was less hot than sweet — a great first and second kiss.
What was interesting about the dream was that he wanted me to meet him somewhere (it was a major city — Gawd I miss real cities). Even though I could see him in a cafe, wearing a kelly green shirt and a baseball cap (Hot.) and waiting for me (Hotter.), I grabbed my food and kept walking — I had to explore.
I didn’t go far. I felt like I was coming back to him — I just wanted to take a peek at the big wide world I’ve been missing out on. But it amuses me that, even in dreams, my independent streak is as wide as my pudgy pork roast butt.
Random item No. 3: Met a new contact in the industry and got the dirt on some of my friends. Also heard a positive thing about one or two of those who have disgusted me over the years. This parallel universe is freaking me out a bit. I’m just glad I’ve always been consistent and that my own reputation is intact. Because in this industry? No one forgets.
Random item No. 4: I get some creepy e-mails from people on dating sites. I can’t remember the last time I even responded to anybody. Freaky moment of the day: I was nomming on a whole-wheat-everything bagel and my beloved banana coffee when I saw a guy who looks exactly like somebody in one of my inboxes. He was just as creepy in person as in his photo. He was sitting alone and checking out anything with a vagina. *shudder* Validation as to why I didn’t waste my time on a reply when I can’t find the time/energy to communicate with people I genuinely love.
Random item No. 5: Down 2.5 more pounds today. Squee! Ten more pounds and I’ll be back where I was before the company reorganized in January and all this weight-gain business exploded.
Random item No. 6: I found out the business I quit unexpectedly was even-shadier than I knew. Like, they stole $10 mil from someone … on top of the shit I DID know about. Why did I ever leave D.C.?
Random item No. 7: I haven’t had a smoke in forever and a day. And I’ve been dieting. And I’ve cut my alcohol intake. And no one has gotten a foot up their ass even if they’ve deserved it. If I don’t get a goddamn award for all of this (or, a vacation day), then there is no justice in this world.
* People who get welfare and WIC and healthcare without having health problems or green cards. And having said people holding up the line at Wal-Mart today, befuddling the cashier while playing on their shiny new iPhone 5s with the bejeweled cases.
* Meanwhile I’m working two jobs for the price of one and hyperventilating at every goddamned turn because I CAN’T HANDLE THE PRESSURE and, oh, my mom is practically on her deathbed but can’t get healthcare because she can’t prove that she DOESN’T have a bank account. Even though she DOESN’T. Discuss.
* My new vacation shine? Worn off. Worn the fuck off. Please somebody marry me and shower me with plane tickets to anywhere but here.
* Seriously, I want my three months’ maternity leave. Do I have to have a kid? Really? Because I’m ready to get knocked up so I can get some rest already.
* I forgot how much my commute sucked. At least when I was in a moving vehicle for 45 minutes at a time up north, I was crossing state lines and heading somewhere good. I killed yet another frog on my way out yesterday. Second in as many months. How the hell do they even FIND that place?
* Going out tonight with two gals from work. I’m excited to see people from “out there” on my side of 95.
* Cracking up that I posted a pic on Facebook with the punchline: “Shut your whore mouth, S******” and a bunch of my friends liked it. Only one got the joke, but I love you all for liking it and not knowing why. (It’s Whorothy’s name! Whore and S****** are synonymous!)
* I seriously need angry drunken hate sex. Seriously. I don’t want to know their name … I definitely don’t want to know the first thing about them and their lives … and I don’t want to feel obligated to hang around and make small talk. I hate small talk. Fuck me and let me be free. Any takers?
* If this month at work doesn’t kill me, nothing will. Not even my commute.
* “Town Whore” is my new favorite phrase. I will never get tired of calling someone that name. Just because I don’t want the dumbass who told me he’d prefer to be with her than me, doesn’t mean I don’t get violently angry that karma can’t get to her house as fast as old-lady skin apparently has.
* He has consistent taste in women. One looks like she’s had her face bashed in by a baseball bat. The other one is mouthy and could benefit from being hit with a baseball bat.
* I was just thinking about three pet-sitting disasters ago. I still have the key to that person’s house. I think she’s since moved. Hell if I know. Hmm. Oh well.
* Been missing my Maddie. She was older and sickly, but fleas and the medicine and the shaving said fleas out of her fur had to be what accelerated her demise. I saw fleas the other day (not on Kadie thank God — I don’t think she would live through it again) and I don’t think I’ve stopped itching since. Or crying.
* Had a couple blasts from the past reappear in Mom’s and my lives, respectively. Everyone remembers me as being snarky. And I’m tired of being sweet (or dying trying). Maybe I’ll be happier if I can tell people the fuck off (and TO fuck off) again without worrying what they’d think of me.
* I have a note on my phone at work that says, “The choice is mine.” I forgot about it till a colleague read it over my shoulder today. I have to remember that — I don’t have to say yes to everything. I don’t have to say yes to anything out of a misguided sense of guilt or obligation, especially if I didn’t have the full story when I committed. No more being “volunteered” either. I’ll probably always continue to pick yes because that’s just me. But it won’t kill me to say no a little more … and I can prove it because I’m still here!
Was just trying to write some ridiculous Happy Thanksgiving-type of message for my customers while half-listening to the daily marketing call. My mind wandered, as it tends to do. (Imagine how much I could achieve if I weren’t in a daydream most of every day.)
A memory from a recent outing came to mind. My friend had wandered off and a male acquaintance came out of nowhere and walked up to say hi.
We talked for a few minutes and wondered aloud why we had never hung out or actually become friends. I’d never thought about it. (I’m finding that’s a pattern these days.)
Anyway, we did the whole promise to hang out at some point. Which, he was tipsy and I was sober, so I imagine he forgot within five seconds and, well, I imagine I can tap him on LinkedIn if the mood strikes.
Which, normally it wouldn’t. But …
He hugged me goodbye after our very brief talk. And kissed me on the lips. Which, no big deal — that’s how I greet and say goodbye to most of my male friends. 🙂 But, wow. It was … probably not supposed to be as good as it was.
I had forgotten about that until now. And will forget about it again, I’m sure. But after spending a year dicking around with someone who would rather imprison himself than admit maybe I get under his skin a little, it was a nice reminder that not only am I still alive inside, but people actually are well-aware of me being alive on the outside as well.
And yes, he’s single. …
I can just hear Patton Oswalt narrating my life right now.
So, I have kind of been up to something. I didn’t put a lot of thought into it. As we all know, desperate times call for desperate measures, and all that jazz.
Naturally, it’s come back to bite me in my sizable ass. Oy vey.
I’d call on God for help with this one, but even He is like, “Yo. I’m waiting to watch you jump the General Lee over the ravine you dug for yourself. Good luck!”
Thanks, Big Guy. 🙂
So, OK, I had 14 meetings between Monday and Tuesday (and one I forgot — story for another day there. Jesus Christ). And exactly one today.
Not only did I get a lot done, but I immersed myself in pure editing. No profit-and-loss statements, or conversion and renewal rates. No promo codes, no reporting software, no five hours of planning a one-hour meeting.
It was glorious.
I think I’ve risen to the level of my own incompetence. I thought I’d be good in administration. And I do love it, but I’m not advancing the learning curve fast enough. And things are falling by the wayside when I focus on things like supervision and, oh, editing.
It occurs to me, do I want a paycheck, do I want to be happy and creative, or do I want both? Because I thought I could have it all. But I really think I need to pick my priorities. And struggling isn’t my style.
I was thumbing through my copy of Peter Drucker’s “Leader of the Future” and my beloved Patrick Lencioni’s “3 Signs of a Miserable Job,” and I started dreaming of the business I want to start that has NOTHING TO DO with my current field.
I’m not mad at the field. It’s been educational and kind of lucrative in recent years. It’s gotten me introduced to the biggest names in the field, and gotten me accustomed to five-diamond accommodations and five-star meals.
I don’t want to start over. I just want to plot my second business and run it until such time that it’s my only business.
And that I went and did something that could rock my entire world, ugh. Seriously. WTF, Goddess? The cure for drama is not MORE DRAMA.
Well, I think God’s still mapping the joke He is playing on me. Santa Claus is my only hope.
Santa, all I want is to be happier than a hog knee-deep in slop. Please bring me whatever it will take to be that way. And take away everything else. Because I don’t have my wits about me enough to know the difference.
