Dinner and a Movie

I know I said I wasn't gonna date for a year. I know I promised my sponsor...but I couldn't help it.

 

Just kidding. I went on a 'date' with Niece. We went to dinner at Village Inn (wait till you hear this story) and then we saw "Ice Age 2". Awesome movie.

 

So I show up at FM's house. Before I can get off the phone with the cable/phone people, Niece is running out the door, bolting for my car, and giving me a hug. God I was so happy to see her! I've missed her so much.

 

I go in the house and FM and I start talking briefly. Niece shows me her room. It's small, but adequate. Decked out for a little girl. Yippy skippy. I find it mildly irritating and disturbing that there is a TV with a VCR built in so she can watch TV in her room.

 

I spin all these fantasies about how much better she would have it in my care.

 

Yeah right. Then my head's like, "Well, ex Boyfriend isn't there any more to screw with your head!"

 

So what? I'm still responsible for the decisions I made. Then my head says, "Yeah, but Mr. Wrong's not there anymore either!"

 

And? So? My abstinence and my new way of life are too young to guarantee that they'd stick if I added such a large stress point as single motherhood to the mix.

 

Do I feel like Niece belongs with me? Yes, I do. But is part of that based on a fantasy of how things would be? Yes, I think it is.

 

Well, on with the story.

 

FM says to me, "Wow, Niece really seems to love Village Inn."

 

"Probably because she's been going there with us since she was a baby, hahahahha."

 

"I asked her where you guys were going to have dinner tonight, and she immediately said, "Village Inn!""

 

That's the creepy part lol. So then Niece comes back with her coat on and I say, "Hey baby, where do you want to go for dinner tonight?"

 

"Village Inn!!!!"

 

LOL

 

So then FM says to me, "She's been waiting all day for you to come and get her. She's been talking about it all day." That statement broke my heart and warmed it at the same time.

 

Niece must feel like an alien in that house...never fully 'at home' there. When we were on our way back to her foster parents' house, she said, "FM said I could spend the night at your house."

 

"Yes, she did, but we can't do that tonight. Maybe another time honey."

 

"But I want to stay with you."

 

"Why honey?"

 

"I want to see the baby."

 

"Honey, J is gone. He's never coming back."

 

"Why?"

 

"Because he was mean." I don't know how else to explain it. It doesn't matter if she thinks he's mean. But now, thinking back on it, I know I didn't explain it as I should have. I should not have said that.

 

"He's never coming back? Never never?"

 

"Never."

 

"But he loves you!"

 

I laughed. I can't believe a 5 year old is saying this. But then I guess that children are more innocent than we are. In their world, it should be very simple: you love someone - you marry them, end of story. I immediately think, "No he doesn't. He loves himself."

 

But I say, "Well, honey, you'd have to ask him about that."

 

That was pretty much it. Why is it that I feel like I've failed Niece by dumping J?

 

Somehow, I feel like J tore Niece and I apart and now I must put us back together again. I'm not sure if that's part of some fantasy I have or if it's reality. At this time, because I know that my Disease is looking for any hole in the dam that it can find in order to rule my life once more, I'm going to go with Fantasy.

 

I came home feeling so conflicted. So I did what I'd never have dared to do at 9:30 at night in the dark when I lived in the ghetto -- I went for a walk. Sister has lent me her black jacket, which has plenty of room in it. So I was fine, even though it's something like 40 out. I had my music on my Palm Pilot, and I had plenty to think about. I was already wearing my walking shoes and had my cell phone, so I just locked up the car and then went for a walk.

 

It felt good to be outside, walking under my own power, getting to know my neighborhood. It felt good to get out of breath, feel my heart pumping faster, and to start sweating once I was near the end of the walk. I haven't done that for such a long time - basically since I took Niece in for the 2nd time in November 04.

 

I got home around 9:45 and felt wobbly. Good walk. My sponsor said that, as addicts, we try to run from feelings...I guess I was trying to walk. I wish I could just keep walking. My life is a smoking ruin. My budget for the next 2 weeks is stringent, and I won't be moving out of this place for a while. exBoyfriend was blowing smoke when he was talking about all that he was going to do to help me. He, of course, didn't follow through.

 

Why would he? He was busy finding my replacement, at least sexually. It's Friday night...he's probably screwing her at work right now.

 

I'd better wrap this up; it's descending into resentment hell.

 

God bless exBoyfriend.

 

There, Sponsor, I said it.

Reader Question -- What Was Healthy?

The first part of the relationship was healthy. The adoration was good for a while…that was what I meant. I had never had that before. Except from Mr. Wrong, who, contrary to his statement about having terminal cancer that would kill him in 3 to 6 months, is still around about 12 months later. Lying motherf*cker. :o)

I guess the peaks of this relationship weren't very healthy because they were the peaks and valleys of an abusive relationship, which are unnaturally high and low, which is what makes abusive relationships so easy to fall into (for me) unless you nip it in the bud.

Thanks for stopping by. :o)

Hmm...what was healthy about that relationship? Perhaps he made you understand how it felt to adore and seemingly be adored..but healthy?

--
Posted by Anonymous to A Secretary's Life at 3/31/2006 02:13:58 PM

Stressful week?

Having a rough day?
Just in case you've had a rough day, here's a stress management
technique recommended in all the latest psychological texts.
The funny thing is that it really works.
1. Picture yourself near a stream.
2. Birds are softly chirping in the cool mountain air.
3. No one but you knows your secret place.
4. You are in total seclusion from the hectic place called "the world,".
5. The soothing sound of a gentle waterfall fills the air with a
cascade of serenity.
6. The water is crystal clear.
7. You can easily make out the face of the person you're holding
underwater.
8. See, you're smiling already.

It's Over

…and I'll probably never see my ex again.

That's how these things go, I guess. I'm kinda sad, but I'm also kinda angry.

I'm glad I'm still at work and not at home. I'm glad I didn't have to see him today or actually hear his voice.

He helped me get some honesty in my life, helped me learn to stop asking for approval from everyone…everyone but him. He encouraged me to go to OA. He encouraged me to take care of myself and get out from the stranglehold my family had over me. He made me laugh so much that it hurt and he made my face hurt from smiling. He taught me what it's like to really dig the person you're with. He gave me some inkling of what a healthy relationship ought to feel like. And he gave the best hugs I've ever received. Nothing felt so satisfying each day as receiving a hug from him.

But he also gave me migraines from tears, both shed and unshed. He cheated on and lied to and abused me too…but I don't think that he's evil. I don't think he knows another way…and I think he probably believes that the cheating and abuse happened because I'm not the woman for him. But then, he wasn't the man for me, and I still didn't cheat on and abuse him. There was the deception about Mr. Wrong at first, but that was never repeated.

In the end, it doesn't matter whose fault it was, except in the sense of whether you walk away with regrets or not. I don't have any regrets. I tried my best. It just didn't work out.

So that's it. And so I take a deep breath and begin my first adult year spent all by myself.

Whining Executives Make Me Vomit

So the mailroom screwed up and sent the package of presentations for a VP, whom we'll call Sourpuss (rarely smiles), to the same guy that we sent an RFP to.

This presented an emergency - Sourpuss is going to be presenting this material to the prospect tomorrow morning at 9am Pacific. It's pretty dicey as to whether FedEx or DHL or whomever will get the presetentations there in time. So my favorite director (we'll call him Smiley) says, "That's ok, Secretary, send them with McCoy, because he'll be coming out here tonight and all will be well."

So I redo all my work (bless those mailpeople) and package it. Then I take it down to McCoy. I could tell from seeing him in action at a meeting that I helped run last Friday that's he's a whiney prima donna. Yes, he is worse than me.

McCoy, instead of being grateful that the prospect he's helping win to ABC Nuts & Bolts will get to see this presentation and his delegation to this company won't be supremely embarrassed because they'll be standing there empty-handed, starts whining!

"God, it just pisses me off to be a pack mule for sales people!"

Well, wah f*cking wah, you overpaid hack. So f*cking what? Like I loved redoing all my work? Like I love cleaning up their messes and turning their consistent lack of planning into my emergency that I have to stay after work and deal with? Stop whining and do your f*ckin job.

So then McCoy says, "Well I just have my secretary send em to the hotel."

"Ummm…I'm not sure that'll work. The meeting is going to start at 9am tomorrow morning."

So I wait while this guy turns into a human volcano, trying to think of some way out of this…finally I can see him capitulating.

I turn around and leave the human volcano to flow over with expletives in his plain, pretentious office.

:o) I like it when other people are more petty than me.

Children Aren't Property, Sister Dear

My sister is one of the people whom I'd really like to have disappear from this planet.

 

It's not that my sister's mean.

 

It's not that she's evil.

 

Nope, it's that she's deluded. She's in denial. And my niece suffers because of it.

 

My niece is in a foster home with a Mom and a Dad right now and they're taking great care of her. I'm pretty sure about that. This particular mom and dad go to church every Sunday and also on Wednesdays. Niece goes to something called Iwana.

 

Well, naturally, my sister can't her little extension of herself getting some kind of faith and the optimism that goes with it, can she? Sooooo, knowing that I want to visit with Niece, my sister decides to have the caseworker try and put the kaibosh on Niece going to Iwana, and then tries to tell me I'm going to have my visits while they're at church so Niece doesn't have to be exposed to the evil that is Christianity.

 

Can we give that idea a big "FUCK THAT!" people?

 

First off, she is not going to dictate to me when I may visit my niece. Secondly, I'm not going to participate in this woman depriving Niece of an opportunity to go and do something she's happy doing and gets approval and attention for doing. I don't give a shit what religion my sister is, it's not in my niece's best interests to be unable to participate in stuff that the rest of her foster family gets to participate in. Besides, it ain't like my sister's been busily giving Niece any religious instruction whatsoever. She barely wants to raise her. My family just expects her to fight hoof, tooth, and nail for Niece, and now she's convinced herself that she wants Niece. If that court gives Niece back to her mom anytime soon, they'll be ruining her life.

 

Sooooooo, I called up the Foster Mom and told her that I don't want to fuck with Niece's attendance of Iwana and was there another night that would work? FM was pretty grateful that someone has this kid's interests at heart.

 

But you know what? I'm pissed at my sister because Niece's reaction when FM told her that we were going to visit was the following: "My Mommy doesn't like her." How the fuck would she know that unless my Sister fucking said that? To a 5 year old?

 

Well that's enough venting and bashing for the night, I'm ready to go and hunker down in my bed in my now lovely bedroom.

 

You know...life without boyfriend is starting to look better and better the less I see of him. :o)

It's Raining Expletives...But at Least I'm Not Bingeing

I guess I'm feeling a little better. I made myself scarce from my apartment starting around 6:30 in an attempt to avoid the ex, who had said he was thinking of coming here to get some more stuff. I guess he's going to stay with his parents. I would put in a little dig about his mom being grateful about that as now she'll be able to nurse (and by nurse I mean breast feed) her baby some more, but that's total bullshit and unfair to a woman who was always exceedingly kind to me. Just because her son wasn't is no reason to throw nasties at her, even if she'll never read them.

 

So I went to this meeting tonight and said the words fuck, fucker, fucking, shit, ass, and a bunch of other ones (I think) during a rage-fueled share about how even though I'd like to murder at least 3 people because of how pissed I am, at least I don't want to binge over it.

 

So even though I'm homicidal, I'm grateful that I'm not writing bad checks in order to acquire binge foods and eat myself into a food coma. I'm just eating a little too much salmon for dinner -- 2 filets instead of one. And I did eat an entire zucchini and a yellow squash. At this time in my life, I'd rather kill someone or at the very least scream expletives at them than eat ice cream and screw my abstinence that I worked so hard for.

 

My sponsor says the reason I can't scream expletives at my ex and my sister et al is because then I'd have to go and make amends to them later. Well, fuck that. Frankly, if I did it, there's no way I'd fucking apologize to either of those fucks. I wouldn't tell my sponsor and then I'd just do whatever the fuck I want.

 

But.....

I can't do that. FUCK. I have to be honest. I just want one fucking thing in my life not to be fucked up, know what I mean? I just want one clean, honest thing in my life...one thing I don't have to fucking feel guilty over.

 

Funny thing happened today -- I told a friend of mine at work about what happened and she said to me,

 

"You know, girl, take good care of yourself hon. And if you need a booty call sometimes, don't feel bad baby." That's actually valid; my ex was a master of the bedroom arts.

 

But you know what? I'd rather have my vagina shrivel up, grow teeth, hair, and a tongue, and bite any dicks off that attempt to enter, than get in another relationship like the one I was just in, and that includes booty calls. Fuck that. That's why God gave us hands and batteries.

Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow

Every time I talk to my ex, my heart just breaks. Whether it's for him to tell me that he'll be done moving out by tomorrow, or just to say good bye, my heart feels a little heavier.

 

I'm in so much pain all the time now. I don't want to let him go.

 

And I hate it that he's going to be homeless. I know how much that hurts him, degrades him, makes him feel worthless.

 

But what can I do? Continue to live with someone whom I know doesn't love me, or if he does, can't be faithful to save his life? Who, when things suck, looks outside the relationship that he swore he'd be committed to in order to fulfill his needs, both sexually and otherwise?

 

Funny thing is...I almost believe that it was a one time thing with that woman. I thought things were on the upswing with us when I found this out. I wish I had never found out...

 

I hate seeing his things in his room slowly dwindling, being whisked off to his parents' or to a storage unit while I'm gone. Every time I'm home, I just want to cry my eyes out because I'm so sad over what I've lost.

 

And I don't want to think about things like...well what did you lose? What you never really had?

 

There is so much to look forward to in the future, but so much grieving to do right now. I hate this. I hate every minute of it and sometimes I wish I were dead so I didn't have to feel it. A split second later, I'm awed by how ridiculous a thought that is when I have so much to look forward to.

 

I wish I could just stay angry, remember all the bad stuff that happened, and focus only on that, but I'm no longer someone who can do that very well. I used to be able to carry grudges...and they weren't carried like something you pulled out and felt every so often. They were carried like a layer of sandpaper on my skin; always there and never forgotten, not for a minute.

 

I can't believe that he's going to be gone after tomorrow or the next day. Gone forever. We'll probably never speak again unless there's an extremely compelling reason for us to. I hate that thought. This man was my best friend, the person I went to for just about everything, the person I could depend on, the person that I did almost everything with.

 

But I also know that I have to do this.  There's no hope for anything anymore, not after what happened. I can't even use the word 'us' to describe it. There is no longer any us.

The Pill Popper

Why is it that I am miserable, pining over lost love, and my sister's offering me some goddamned pills? Like a sleeping pill is going to make me feel better? I guess that's what you can expect from someone whose sole company is pills and whose primary purpose in life is to medicate her various illnesses. Well, she does say that her primary purpose is to liberate her 5 year old from the foster care system, which takes better care of my niece than she could ever hope to, but I don't believe her. I think it's to take care of illnesses.

 

Though it would be nice to get a good night's sleep. Last night's was horrible.

 

She keeps wildly urging me to 'take care of myself'. As though I'm going to collapse, stop eating, and stop sleeping. Goodness, I'm upset, but I'm still logical.

 

Although I'm not sure how logical it is to cater to your sister's needs at 9:30 at night primarily in order to give yourself something to do. I'm not sure how logical it is to do this while crying your eyes out and screaming "YOU FUCKER!" at the top of your lungs and driving...all at the same time.

 

But you can't really scream "YOU FUCKER" in your apartment with the same bloodcurdling ferocity that you can while you're driving along in your car, now can you? Your neighbors probably wouldn't appreciate it. My damn sponsor (bless her heart) won't let me just give Boyfriend a little call to show him how much I care. She may have been a little shocked last night when he stopped by my bedroom door to say he was leaving and I told him to get the fuck out and leave me alone because I was in the middle of crying and not in the mood to be kind.

 

He was there moving stuff out tonight shortly after I got home from work. It was so heartbreaking; I can't believe it's really happening. I just want to tell him to stop, please stop and don't go. Please lay down with me and comfort me and don't ever leave because I love you so much. I just want to try and try and try and try...

 

But how can I love someone who's done this to me? How can I love someone whom I know has no remorse for what he's done? How can I love someone whose very nature I don't like...who has no problem breaking his promises, his big promises, not little ones like, "I won't stay at my sister's after dark because that neighborhood is dangerous..."?

 

I feel negative about just about every goddamned thing that's happening right now. I felt negatively about the OA meeting I attended tonight and then I said this prayer that my friend Angel taught me - "God, let me hear what I need to hear, see what I need to see, and do what I need to do." That opened my mind a little bit. Then I was able to listen and smile.

 

Then tonight I brought dinner with me for my sister, since I had leftovers and they wouldn't be safe in my fridge, and she fucking squealed. You know the word 'sweet'? You know how when some women get excited, they use the word sweet, as in, "Oh!!!! You're so Sweeeeeeeeeeeeet!!!!" ? And they sound like a fucking sow? That was my sister tonight. God bless her, but I just about told her to stop squealing like a fucking pig; that's how full of hatred I am. I didn't say it, thank God. How that would have hurt her feelings when she was just trying to be nice. And then I'd be crying over the pain I inflicted on her.

 

But goddamn, she is really fucking loud. Sometimes it drives me nuts. Probably because I am extremely pissed right now and I can't take it out on the appropriate party.

 

You know, I really am an ungrateful bitch. My sister took me in this weekend, let me stay with her, was really kind, and here I am bitching to high heaven about her. I wish I could make my ex boyfriend feel some serious pain, hot-poker-serious pain, but I can't. And I know that it's my Friday discovery that's really driving this bitch session.

 

My sponsor keeps telling me to write some stupid goddamned 'angry' letter and then rip it into little pieces, but I just think it's stupid. What the fuck is the point? What I'm really good at is making people who deserve it feel the pain they should feel. Like when I told Boyfriend on Sunday to 'scurry back' to his room. But God, I felt bad right after those words came out of my mouth. What I was really dying to do was grab him, hug him, and tell him I love him and forget all about what he did and who he really is.

 

I may be awfully horny by next March 24th, but if this is what dating brings, then I'll be glad to be single and non-dating for a year, because I am really tired of this shit.

 

And with that, I'll close this epistle. 'Night y'all.

Oh God...

Now that I'm single again, and after spending a weekend with her, my sister thinks I'm a source of assistance for her.

If my sister were a normal person who was pretty independent, this wouldn't be a problem. But that's not my sister.

No…my sister is an invalid. She's got major back problems, and I don't want to say she thinks that the world should revolve around her, but it's awfully hard not say that and describe her accurately.

One example would be last night -- my sister wrenched her back somehow and had to go to the ER. She calls up my mom and Mommy Dearest whisks her off to the ER. Well the doctor there prescribed medicine that Medicaid won't pay for. So who does my sister expect to pay for that? Mommy Dearest.

She also expected Mommy Dearest to acquire dinner for her from either Taco Bell or Burger King.

What's crazy about this? Well, it was the middle of the night…

…and Mommy Dearest actually complied.

And then cried her frustrations at my sister over it.

And now Sister is calling me, telling me about what a drama queen my sister is.

I feel bad for my mom -- she was finally free from my sister…but not really. She continues to support her and be at her beck and call. I wish she'd wake up and stop being this way, because I feel sad for her.

I'm not sure who I am to talk though, because look at my situation. But there is no way in h*ll I'm getting drawn back into the family nightmare.

Boyfriend: What I don't get about you

You don't have a problem cheating on women.

You don't believe that s*x is anything more than a physical act which is divorced from emotion.

Either you don’t accept or don't like this fact about yourself or you persist in choosing women who plainly won't accept you as you are.

Why don't you just accept yourself as you are, like yourself that way, and find women who are ok with that instead of hurting people? Why tell women that you're a libertine but then assure them that you won't be that way while in a relationship with them? You, like me, are one messed up kid.

Well, I guess I don't really need to figure you out, do I? Why I'm spending time trying to understand you is beyond me. My side of the street is the only one I have any control over.

C'est la vie.

Saturday's Horoscope

Wow, how appropo. I wonder if this is referring to my temptation to instantly seek a new boyfriend. Said temptation is a very, very bad idea. Obviously, I seem to keep picking jerks.

Sheila,
You are motivated to delve into issues that you normally avoid, especially if they involve uncomfortable feelings. It's not that you are seeking distress of any sort; rather, it's your need to get something out into the open that's inspiring your actions. Denial is quite tempting now, but you really shouldn't waste the opportunity for learning that is currently in front you.

Day 2

Here I am at the beginning of day 2 of a new life.

 

I'm alone in the world, no one to depend on. I have to make it on my own now.

 

The past 2 days have been like walking around in a fog. I keep trying not to think about my future, about what I'm going to live for now that my boyfriend of 2 years has chosen sex with a married woman over me. Actually, I can't say that he 'chose' her over me in the sense that he's leaving my home voluntarily to be with her. I have set a deadline of next Sunday for him to be out by.

 

No he didn't choose to move out. He said he was sorry, but he's only sorry for having gotten caught. Of course he's sorry for that -- now he's got to find a new place to live. I can't imagine any other reason for him to be sorry.

 

One of things he told this married woman was the her backside was 'made for a thong'. Can you guess who else he used that line on? I wonder....

 

She said to him, "Don't you feel bad about cheating on your girlfriend?"

 

"I don't see us lasting. The passion is almost gone. She's got her own issues to work out. And I never let myself feel bad about these things."

 

He doesn't feel bad about cheating on me. No, he only feels bad about the consequences, and only about the consequences which are negative to him. He is what he is, just as a beast is what it is. And his actions are pretty close to that of a  beast's. This is a guy who's cheated on me God knows how many times. This is a guy who used to leave marks on my arms from holding me and not letting me go, from restraining me. This is a guy who used to scare me. This is a guy who regularly told me to shut the fuck up.

 

I guess now I know why he didn't want to kiss me on the lips that morning that I happened to catch him coming home from work. He didn't want me to smell her, I'm sure. I think he has a rule or something, and it goes like this: Only have sex with one woman per day.

 

My sponsor's been trying to tell me about acceptance. I thought she meant that you accept the other party as they are; you take what you can get, in order to make the relationship work. You stop trying to change them.

 

What she really meant was that you stop creating fantasies about things you don't like about them; stop creating fantasies about how the person really is and how you really are and how the twain SHALL meet because you're going to make them meet.

 

I guess my new life is going to be a lot more peaceful without him around, even though it may be lonely. I made a list last night called the truth about Jon and it's not very pretty. But it is the truth. And whenever I start to miss that motherfucker, I will drag it out and read it.

Guess Who's a Total Liar

My former boyfriend.

 

He cheated again. With a married chick. It's almost laughable. Fucker.

 

Hope he likes sleeping on the floor. And I hope he doesn't mind being thisclose to homeless.

Peanut Butter is Stupid

Peanut Butter's driving me nuts today.

He gave me an expense report to do, and, admittedly, I am a little late getting it done.

But I think what is most remarkable to me is this -- today's date is March 23, and he gave me two receipts from November 2005!!! They're 4 months old!!!!

What an idiot. The sooner this guy gets fired, the better.

Islam v Christianity

I think I know now what middle eastern countries were so afraid of when we liberated Afganistan and Iraq.

They were afraid that the West would now routinely feel like interfering in their affairs using miliary strength.

They may have been right. Because there are a bunch of people -- I note that, in the article I read, they were mostly European -- who think that the West should use military strength to free this Afghani man who might be executed for having rejected Islam and embraced Christianity.

Twiggy...You Backstabbing.......

As I suspected, we did not make it through the last 2 hours of Monday without Twiggy running to the Marketing Manager to report that I threw all those precious magazines away!!! Oh no, what will we dooooooooooo?

I discovered this because the marketing manager wanted me to work on another project for her, and while I was away at the restroom playing Monopoly, she stopped by.

I came back and Twiggy goes, "Uh…Marketing Manager wants to see you."

My first thought upon hearing this was directed at Twiggy, and it went something like this: "You f*cking b*tch."

So I went back there and Marketing Manager mentioned nothing of the magazines and the graphic artist (we'll call him Apple) wanted to tell me about the new shelves arriving forthwith. I said that I knew and had been cleaning up back there.

Apple is a sweet, sweet guy who has a great sense of humor, and he says to me, "Shhhh!!! Don't say that too loud around Marketing Manager!!!"

And I go, "Oh it's ok…hey Marketing Manager, I threw your magazines away. They were collecting dust and taking up space that could be used more efficiently for other things."

"So I heard."

Now I'm p*ssed. I go to the Marketing Manager and I say, "I hope you're not upset." And she said, "Nah, in a year, there'll be another year's worth of magazines back there."

So then I said, "May I vent for a minute? I'm so p*ssed at that f*cking b*tch. I hate it when she acts like this! She has no life -- gets her early, leaves here late, and her two hobbies are shopping and watching TV!"

Marketing Manager just nodded. "Yep, I know." She and I get along like peas and carrots. "Any time you want to vent, feel free to come back here."

I actually confronted Twiggy about this and we worked it out. This is way different from my usual MO. And hers. Aren't we a pair?

I just hate the way she's always actively trying to dredge up drama. She must really miss Adminzilla…now she's set her sights on me and I hate her for it.

Open Season

Well my procrastination about cleaning up the back collateral room finally caught up with me. That is to say that the shelves they had planned on installing have arrived and all that junk is in the way. Ugh, these people are total hoarders.

Marketing used to keep hoards of magazines back for a year or two. Since the advent of the internet, they rarely if ever use any of these magazines. So I began throwing them away. Then Twiggy comes back there and starts going off about how Marketing keeps those magazines blah blah blah and I should check with them before I throw them out. I told her thank you for saving me from a big mistake!

Then I promptly ignored her. I'm not digging those magazines out of the trash and it's very hard to believe that Marketing actually uses them for anything. I'm quite sure that they envisioned using them, maybe, and so decided to have them stored. However, it's been months since those publications have been messed with, and so I'm throwing them away. Hardly a firing offense if I have made a mistake. All those publications can be found online in pdf format, trust me, and they are just taking up space that we need for other things at this time.

So if we can make it through the day without Twiggy digging them out of the trash, everything should be fine. However, if she decides that she must heroically rescue the junk from the trashman, then I could have a problem. I hope she votes to mind her own business. : )

I Intensely Dislike Working with Peanut Butter

Peanut Butter has resumed sending me those ridiculous letters again. Ugh. How I hate these stupid letters. People who happen to see them on my desk and read them just shake their heads at how stupidly they are written. I hate being associated with these retarded things, but that guy just will not listen. I wish he'd forget my email address. I wish I lived in Baldur's Gate and had a Thief's Cloak that would turn me invisible whenever I wanted. It would be nice if that cloak were accompanied by a potion that would melt away all my blubber too. Please God? No? Ok, then I shall rant some more...

Anyway, I am working on doing what's in front of me, not avoiding or procrastinating - just doing. So I got those letters from Peanut Butter and went ahead and did them. Yippy skippy.

The next problem with this little system is that Peanut Butter won't just sign the d*mn things. They will lay and lay and lay on my desk and not be signed until I end up just throwing them out. After all, if the idiot doesn't want them sent out without his own signature on them and then doesn't come up to sign them, how important can they frickin' be? Not very.

So after I've thrown the damn things out because he didn't bother to come up and sign them, then he will email me asking about what date they were sent out. What? You never signed them, you pock-marked cretin! So I just say, "These letters were sent out this date (the ones you miraculously managed to sign) and you haven't recently asked for any letters to be sent to this company." I know perfectly well that he's referring to the older letters, but I also know that he'll just send me a new batch if I say this. He doesn't keep track. At all.

The ways to avoid giving him data showing that the letters never went out are myriad. Such gems as what I'll list here are just the easiest ones to use when dealing with someone who doesn't understand spelling let alone technology:

1. I don't know. My database became corrupted and I lost data. (Used this one recently. Its new incarnation? "My database doesn't go back that far. I only keep the data just far enough back to be able to tell you I don't know for whatever date you're asking about.")

2. I can't find the files on the H drive. This works well as he is not that passionate about this stuff. So he's not going to be all, "WELL WHY NOT?"

You probably are thinking, if you're thinking -- why don't you just tell him the truth? The answer is because he doesn't want to hear it. This has been a persistent problem with this particular gent and I've tried telling him, well you never signed the letters. The tacit response to that one…"Why didn't you chase me down and make me sign them?" The answer to that - unspoken but understood? "I'm not your babysitter!"

Well today I did chase him down. And as he left my cube, he muttered under his breath, "Jeez, get off my back." He didn't intend for me to hear this, which was obvious as he was behind my cube wall, which is about 5.5 feet tall and he was muttering. So I go, "I heard that!" Loudly. LOL.

Hmmm…I feel tired. I hope Twiggy leaves her desk so I can filch a diet pepsi from the Filching Fridge. :o)

Funniest Link of the Week

From A Socialite's Life… (http://socialitelife.com/)

"Recovering sex addict Michael Douglas, bashes Brangelina."

The Contract Nazi & TPS Reports

You know that scene in Office Space where the guy's 3 supervisors all come to him and rag on him about how to do his TPS reports?

I think that TPS is probably short for Total Piece of Sh*t.

Anyway, I have my own form of TPS reports and my own albatross staff member to deal with.

And that's the Contract Nazi. She is a glorified f*cking bill collector who has delusions of grandeur. Another nick name she's been given by Sales is, "The DealKiller." Any time you make a mistake, no matter how big or small, she is on it like a shark smelling blood in the water.

I mistakenly sent a check to the wrong department. This created a bunch more work and confusion for her, I must gleefully report. So she fires off this memo to me and Twiggy and our supervisor about how all checks should go to her, blah blah blah.

Since I know that my supervisor's going to come around and do a TPS report on me even though I did learn to read in elementary school, I decide to proactively call her and assure her that I can read.

"Hey Supervisor, it's me. Did you see the Contract Nazi's memo?"

"Yes. I'm glad she said something; I would not have known to do that."

"Really?" oh my God, no wonder the Nazi is so Type A.

"Really."

"Oh, well I think the reason she sent the memo is because I may have mistakenly sent a check along with a contract over to DEF Nuts and Bolts. And the witch is pissed."

"Oh, ok."

If I hadn't called my supervisor and talked about it, this is what would have happened.

Supervisor moseys into my cube.

"Hi, just stopping by to see if you saw that memo from the Nazi."

"Yes, I read it."

"We just need to make sure that we're sending all checks to der Fuhrer."

"Ok."

Duh f*ckin duh. That's what the f*ckin email said. In plain English, which is a language I speak fluently, having grown up in America and having attended Catholic schools. I love my supervisor, but that's one of her more annoying habits.

Some Predictions are Coming True, Sort Of

This year, I think the last remaining 'childless' VP will be demoted to Director.

This was one of my predictions for 2006 at my office. What I should have said was that they were going to demote a few VPs.

Basically, there's this VP I support who had 1 director under him.

And guess what? He's on his way to being demoted to director. I can tell because the director he had under him is now going to report to someone else.

That's too bad; I really like that guy. He's nice.

Peanut Butter

…finally got the message. I think his prospecting letters are horrible. Consequently, I have procrastinated and procrastinated on doing these letters. Consequently, he has decided to put these packages together himself.

In a way, this is a problem for me. In another way, it's not. It's bad because who knows whom he said the following to: "I tried to get Secretary to help me, but she procrastinated and procrastinated on it, so I finally had to do it myself."?

But God I hated doing these retarded letters. They are written so badly and he would NOT accept any improvements. That drove me nuts.

I'm reading one right now -- what do I see but a grammar error? I feel kinda sorry for him, but hey, he wouldn't listen. Kind of an alcoholic mentality. Hmmmm….

I have a feeling...

…that a certain personage who is very much male eye-candy is a closet pill-popper.

He always has headaches.

Twiggy has now run out of painkillers in the first aid kit.

I offered him some medicine. Come to think of it, I have a bit of a headache…probably from my ponytail.

"Percodan?"

"No, that stuff's addictive, you knitwit."

"Oooo, these are good…500s!"

He totally reminds me of Mr. Wrong in this regard. He was like that too.

A Nice Peaceful Lunch...In the Boardroom

Sometimes it pays to be a secretary.

There is not a corner of this building that you can find that's completely solitary. That kinda makes sense though, doesn't it? After all, this is an office building.

Hmm…perhaps I should amend the above statement. There is one place that's completely solitary…and that's the Boardroom.

Our Boardroom is fairly impressive, I suppose, if not a little plain. I wouldn't call it imposing or anything, except to a corporate neophyte on her first day at her new secretary job. The Boardroom has a ginormous table that has these lovely veneers which look like inlaid wood and it's very, very shiny (that table is a total b*tch to put nametents and agendas on). Those leather chairs aren't that comfortable or that adjustable, but I guess they look ok. The carpet is a nubby purple berber-like material that has a nap to it and it feels thick to say the least. It feels spendy.

But my favorite feature of the Boardroom is the beautiful, half-moon shaped window through which you can view almost the whole office park and about a mile of cityscape. You can see the expressway they're building, the road that I take on the way home, the parking lots, the trees, the traffic on the Drive, the whole nine yards. All the cars and trucks speed by noiselessly, unaware they're being watched. I can't say, though, that being watched by me would be significant to them in any way, shape or form (oooo…another bill collector just called for Twiggy; how I do not miss those days.). I sit on the floor in front of the window and quietly eat my lunch, revelling in the fact that the only noise in that room, besides air slipping through the vents, is the rustling of my clothes when I change positions on the floor. I enjoy the sunlight coming through the window and watch the occasional bird alight from the roof top, descending toward the smorgasbord, aka parking lot, in its mission to negate car washes obtained during someone's harried lunch hour on this 60 degree day.

I have a lot on my mind these days. Deirdre, the future, why I hate this apartment and what I can do today to change that. That place just bothers me. It's so frickin ugly and everywhere I look, there is clutter and not one atom of beauty to be found. Having a home that you don't like coming home to is not all that pleasant. I have got to do something about this place.

But every time I come home from work or have time alone to do whatever I want, I have a sense of futility. If I clean it up, it will just get messy again. If I declutter, then more clutter will just appear. I am overdue for some visits to the Goodwill. I can tell because I have too many books and there's more drinking glasses than there is room in my cupboard for them.

Our evenings these days are spent laying in bed, watching little figures move around on a screen at our command, carrying out their imaginary life's dreams, being purposeful. They're saving worlds, they're saving their friends, they're seeing new places, learning and doing new things, forming meaningful connections with new people. Dreams, for us, seem to be in short supply. We just seem to be suriving, not thriving. We're not saving anything, we're not learning or doing new things, we're not forming meaningful connections with new people or having any sort of adventure, good or bad. We're just there. We're just breathing, eating, sleeping, using electricity, working, driving, cooking, just living. Nothing special about it.

On one hand, that's good. No real drama is going on at this time. Drama-free lives are stable, right? But shouldn't life be something you love doing? I don't mean your job. I don't mean your car. Shouldn't there be something you love about every facet of life?

I read things like Orangette and she talks about loving certain things about her life…she's got a crimson bowl that she has her oatmeal in in the morning. My friends C and A have a lovely little home that you can tell they enjoy living in. It's theirs and they've decorated it beautifully. I don't think it's been done expensively, just thoughtfully, and I want that kind of home to live in. Know what I mean? A home that feels like, when you come home at night, you're really in a place that you like being in, not a place from which you'd really like to escape at the earliest possible opportunity.

Oh well, so that's where I am today. Work is calling so I must away for now.

Feel free to tell me if you can relate.

Chef's Voice Quits South Park!!!

OMG!!! Raise your hand if you love the song Chocolate Salty Balls...

http://news.yahoo.com/s/nm/20060314/people_nm/southpark_dc

Singer Isaac Hayes quits "South Park"

By Steve Gorman Mon Mar 13, 8:33 PM ET

LOS ANGELES (Reuters) - Soul singer
Isaac Hayes said on Monday he was quitting his job as the voice of the lusty character "Chef" on the satiric cable TV cartoon "South Park," citing the show's "inappropriate ridicule" of religion.

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But series co-creator Matt Stone said the veteran recording artist was upset the show had recently lampooned the Church of Scientology, of which Hayes is an outspoken follower.

"In ten years and over 150 episodes of 'South Park,' Isaac never had a problem with the show making fun of Christians, Muslim, Mormons or Jews," Stone said in a statement issued by the Comedy Central network. "He got a sudden case of religious sensitivity when it was his religion featured on the show."

He added: "Of course we will release Isaac from his contract, and we wish him well."

In a statement explaining his departure from the show, Hayes, 63, did not mention last fall's episode poking fun at Scientology and some of its celebrity adherents, including actor

Tom Cruise.

Rather, Hayes said the show's parody of religion in general was part of what he saw as a "growing insensitivity toward personal spiritual beliefs" in the media, including the recent controversy over cartoons depicting the Prophet Mohammad.

"There is a place in this world for satire, but there is a time when satire ends and intolerance and bigotry toward religious beliefs ... begins," Hayes said.

The crudely animated cartoon, heading into its 10th season next week as one of Comedy Central's biggest hits, centers on the antics of four foul-mouthed fourth graders in the town of South Park, Colorado.

Outlandish religious satire has been a mainstay of the show since its debut on the Viacom Inc.-owned network in 1997. The series grew out of two short films by Stone and collaborator Trey Parker -- "Jesus vs. Frosty" and "The Spirit of Christmas," the latter featuring a martial-arts duel between Jesus and Santa Claus over the true meaning of Christmas.

Hayes, the first black composer to win an Oscar for best song with his theme to the 1971 film "Shaft," gained renewed fame on "South Park" as the voice of Jerome "Chef" McElroy, the school cafeteria cook whom the boys often seek out for advice.

In an episode last fall, one of the gang, Stan, scores so high on a Scientology test that church followers think he is the next L. Ron Hubbard, the late science-fiction writer who founded the religion. Hayes did not take part in that episode.

In an interview with Reuters late last year, Hayes talked about a foundation he formed to bring Scientology-based study techniques to disadvantaged inner-city schools, in partnership with fellow devotee

Lisa Marie Presley.

"But it's not religious," he said then, describing himself as Baptist by birth and Scientology as "an applied religious philosophy."

Comedy Central spokesman Tony Fox said producers have not decided whether Chef would be dropped from the show or continued with another actor supplying his voice.

Holy Horoscopes

It is weird just how accurate these things can be.

Sheila,
This is a great time to reassess your current position and reconsider where you are going. You have more awareness regarding the situation now and realize that it isn't as you prefer. But your new perspective about a creative project can also help you understand what needs to be done to make things work more efficiently.

Disowning My Mother Looks Like a Good Solution Sometimes...

Sheila,
Something feels stuck and it can suck your psychic energy down the drain as you try to unclog your emotional pipes. Normally, after your usual period of resistance, you would put on your plumber's hat and go in to do the work. Today, however, the problem may not get resolved by force. It's not about how others see your feelings; it's about how you feel them. The truth is you may not have to fix anything at all.

I have often felt in life that I must fix situations. When I heard that CPS wants to terminate my sister's parental rights, I felt like I needed to do something to make sure Niece is ok. I felt that I needed to go to my sister and fix her feelings. I knew how she must be feelings.

This all happened yesterday. I talked to my sister; we talked things out, but I didn't try to fix her feelings. I'm not going to try and fix my mom's feelings. I'm not going to try and make her admit anything. You cannot make people be honest with themselves before they are ready to. But I think I am slowly coming to a decision about my mom and about how I am going to associate with her...or not associate with her.

I read an interesting quote today and I believe that's it's applicable to this situation:

"The most difficult lesson to learn is: which bridge in life to use or which one to break off."

An Alcoholic Family & Family Secrets

Sheila,
Just as you are settling into a creative groove where things seem to be getting better, someone in your world gets totally bent out of shape. Although you may have done nothing to contribute to it, you still might be the object of their anger. Yet you must deal with the situation. Avoid getting hooked into complicated dramas just because you care. If someone else created the mess; you don't need to clean it up.

Hopefully my Spanish isn't too screwed up on that heading.
Last Wednesday, there was a 'family group therapy' session that I didn't attend. It's not that I wasn't invited; it's that I declined. I was afraid they were gonna put a guilt trip on me and some other things. Also, my mother is prone to histrionics, and this meeting, to her, was no less an appropriate place for a show than her own front living room. I'm not sure I would have had things to say that my family would have wanted to hear.

Well, apparently, something happened at the meeting. I started getting that apprehensive feeling like there was something going on that I didn't know about. I called Niece's foster mom on Thursday or Friday to try and talk to Niece or set up a visit with her and found out that Niece had been moved to her new foster home. She was going to give me the new foster family's phone number but then must have thought better of it, because she didn't have it while we were on the phone and my follow up call is unanswered.

Dad told me that, at the Wednesday meeting, they had pressured my sister to give Niece up for adoption because my sister can't handle Niece. That my sister can't handle Niece is no surprise. That the powers that be had finally realized this is a shock.

That really threw me for a loop though. I am still feeling it. One, I am worried about how Niece is doing. I know she's healthy and being fed and stuff. I just don't know how she's feeling. Is she feeling alone? Abandoned? I guess the new foster family was surprised at how manipulative Niece is. It's a survival mechanism -- one that foster kids often develop. Niece has become a 'foster' kid…something I never wanted her to be. I wanted to prevent that by raising her myself, but I couldn't do it. I have a lot of guilt over that.

It also threw me for a loop that Niece might be adopted. Would I still be able to see her? Would I still get to be part of her life? And then I started to realize how my sister must feel -- she must feel as sad about this as me, only worse. I felt like I'd lost a child when Niece went to live with a foster family. It was the most wrenching pain I've ever felt and it still lingers. I think about it every day. The thoughts come unbidden. And knowing that my actions partially caused this pain to my sister, whom I love, was also hard for me to bear.

I finally got a hold of my mom really late on Saturday night. She was very upset. I got the feeling that her anger was directed at me as well as those telling my sister to give up Niece for adoption. My mom loves to blame me for all this - the logic is that if I hadn't called CPS, then none of this would be happening. But she conveniently forgets that if you take that one step further back, you get the following logic: If my mom hadn't tied my then 2 year old niece's together with duct tape and my sister had taken care of her daughter, no one would have called CPS. If they had cleaned their frickin house instead of allowing it to become Insectopia, no one would have called CPS. But you can't make people be honest with themselves. If they had listened to me about these things, I wouldn't have had to call someone else. Was I supposed to stand by and let that little girl be abused and neglected in the name of keeping my family's shameful secrets away from the prying eyes of the outside world?

That's the thing -- my mom and dad love family secrets. They love to 'handle' things with no one else involved. Talk about an alcoholic family. Even if things are horribly wrong, you don't get others involved. You don’t ever divulge the family secrets. That way, the parents are safe. That's the crux of the matter. The parents will be safe as long as the secrets are kept, but if they get out, the parents will suffer the wrath of the public. The children are not safe while the secrets are kept; the children get safety after the secrets are divulged. See how the odd that is?

While secrets are kept: parents are safe. Children are in danger.
When secret is not kept: Parents are in danger. Children are safe.
Keeping the secrets serves only the parents, not the children. So the motive for this is not family pride, not family integrity. The motive for this is selfishness, pure unadulterated selfishness and nothing else.

So I committed the horrible sin of taking things outside the family. Now everything would be shown in the light of day. Mom couldn't hide inside TV anymore. Dad's alcoholism was plain for everyone to see. My sister would have to become independent of her parents. Horrors! They would all have to change.

But some people refuse to change. My mom and dad refused to change. My mom refuses to be honest with herself. During our conversation on Friday or Saturday night, she made a big deal about how CPS is an evil organization and they are trying to steal my sister's possession - her daughter. I said, "Mom, CPS is only involved because of what you did. If you hadn't tied her up with duct tape, none of this would be happening." Mom won't listen to this stuff. She won't be honest with herself. For God's sake woman! Just admit it! Just own up to it and say you were wrong and that you feel bad about what you did! She's just lying to herself and it angers me to no end how she acts so holier than thou when she has done these things.

I guess one of the reasons that CPS is now saying that Niece should be adopted is because my sister wants to parent from her chair. She doesn't want to get up and get the kid and make her do what she needs to do. It's because she's afraid of the pain it might bring because of her back. Either now or later because she's 'overdone' it.

She thinks she'll be able to handle Niece if Niece would only be hers alone to handle. She tried to get me to promise that if Niece comes home, then I wouldn't call CPS again.

"Why would I call CPS if you're taking care of Niece properly?"
"I don't know."
"I tried to warn you guys. No one would listen to me. I tried to talk to you guys so many times but no one wanted to listen. I can only promise you that if I see something going on, I will try to talk to you about it first. But as long as you take good care of Niece, you have nothing to fear from me."

She didn't say anything. She knew it was true.
"Mom's angry at me isn't she?"
"Well, don't take this personally or the wrong way or anything. Just take it as exactly what I'm saying." I nodded my assent. "The prevailing logic is that if you hadn't called CPS, none of this would happening."

"Ok, I can see that, but why not take it a step back? If no one had duct taped that child, no one would have called CPS. If no one had tied her up, no one would have called CPS. If she were being taken care of properly, no one would have called CPS." Then I had another thought and I wanted to test it out on my sister. "I just know that if I have a kid and I make one screw up, Mom will call CPS."

My sister's whole demeanor changed to one of someone who's warning someone else of danger. "Yes she would. She wants revenge. She'd do it."

This is not just drama mongering. This is absolute truth. I am not being melodramatic. My mother would in fact do this. She would call CPS out of some petty, selfish need for revenge.

Notice that my sister has forgiven me. Notice that my sister doesn't seem to blame me much. Notice that she is not angry with me. She is the one whose child was taken away. She is the one under scrutiny from CPS. Not my mother. Yet, it's my mother who's talking about fighting, fighting, fighting. Yet, it's my mother who is furious with me. As though I had called CPS on her.

I guess I can see why. After all, who was it that duct taped Niece?

The Company Newsletter

In a word, it sucks.

The newsletter tries sooooooooo hard to be relevant. Really it does. But it's just so BORING. It doesn't find the human interest stories and has very little humor.

And there of course is the section that I hate the most -- 'Work Tips'. They could sum up the articles in this section by saying the following:

'Always remember the Company is watching. Work your fingers to the bone for the Company. Don't cyberslack. Follow all rules. The Company is watching. You will be fired. Tell on those who don't follow the rules. Rumplestiltskin is the Company's name. The Company is watching. We want your firstborn child. The Company is watching.'

I remember when I worked at our local newspaper and then again at this local Bank. People loved getting the newsletter at both places. It was awesome. People just loved reading about stuff, and the editors always managed to find interesting stories. Perhaps it was because it was a newspaper, and the people who worked there knew how to write stories that people would like to read. As for the Bank's newsletter, well, I guess the thing there was that the Bank had not yet grown into behemoth proportions like this overgrown company has.

The other thing about those other two places was that they actually published the newsletter -- they didn't just put it online. Goodness gracious -- hardly anyone really knows when the newsletter comes out around here. I could take a poll right now to find out how many people have actually read that newsletter. But why bother? I already know that hardly anyone reads that thing.

Anyway, they have this little application that you can fill out in order to be on the team for the newsletter. I almost volunteered until I actually read an issue of the newsletter -- no way am I signing up to write schlock like that.

Here's my application --

Name -- Secretary
Division -- Sales
Job title -- Secretary
Department operations -- I wipe everyone's butt. Basically, I fill the copier because many of the staff members here are men and the support staff is female, so of course once they crawl out of their caves and then show up at the office in the morning, the men become helpless and can't figure out how to put paper in the copiers. They also aren't quite sure how to work a computer, so I occasionally must teach them about the wonders of electricity and how plugging in the computer would really help them get it to work, as opposed to beating their closed laptops until their knuckles are bloody.

Supervisor’s name -- Supervisor
Year’s of service at ABC Nuts and Bolts -- 3 GLORIOUS years!!
Previous experience with newsletter/copywriting -- I edited a neighborhood association's newsletter until I divorced my husband, moved out of our home, and basically stopped sending them stuff. They sent me some stupid letter, but I threw it away without opening it. I loathe shopping at the grocery store around there for fear that I'll run into one of them who will know my shame.

Why you wish to join the subcommittee -- I think the newsletter needs some major renovation. For starters, it might be good to start actually publishing it in paper form instead of finding the cheapest way of doing it, not publicizing it, and then sticking with that. Secondly, I think it probably needs more cusswords, or perhaps some blue humor. Imagine the buzz! It may also be prudent to add in some celebrity gossip -- specifically, I think we should talk more about Brangelina and Vaughniston. An editorial that tells Jennifer Aniston to stop talking about her ex husband might be a good addition. Pictures of Tara Reid doing a drunken pratfall could add some spice too. Another great addition would be a list of great celebrity gossip sites and a link to Gallery of the Absurd (www.galleryoftheabsurd.com).

I think the 'Work Tips' section is great, but it needs something…try these: 

• The Company Owes You: How to Filch Water and Pop Without Being Seen
  
• They'd Fire You Without a Moment's Notice or Reason -- Why It's Really OK to Visit Monster.com During Work Hours and Create Doctor's Appts to Disguise Job Interviews


• How to Waste Time: Monopoly, a Palm Pilot, and a Porcelain Throne
  
• 50 Bulletproof Excuses for Chronic Tardiness
  
• 10 Bulletproof Reasons to Get Out of Any Meeting
  
• 5 Ways to Avoid Work That You Deem Pointless
  
• Office Hoarders: Give Me Carte Blanc to Toss Junk and I'll Give You a Clean Back Office
  
• Be Snarky and Get Away With It - The Power of Smileys and 'Just Kidding'

I Really Did Graduate from Eighth Grade

Really, I did. Believe it or not.

I have a client visit to setup tomorrow. It's the third one this week, and the umpteenth one I've had during my tenure here at ABC Nuts and Bolts. So I kind of know what I'm doing. Believe it or not. I have these things down to a science. I know exactly what to do, when to do it, and how to do it most efficiently. I am the queen of client visits. I don't think anyone except that lovely secretary in client services (who would be great at my job if I ever left) has handled more of these nightmares than me.

That being said, note that all the people I work for are control freaks.

There is this one director (we'll call him Control Freak, or Freak for short) who always calls Twiggy for stuff. He calls her to set up his tours and conference space in the Field of Dreams. It's annoying when he does this, because if he went through me, I could take care of everything in one fell swoop while I help him with his reservations. Oh well. I try not to get hyped up about it.

Anyhoo, moving on…I have a client visit with Freak tomorrow. Freak sent me all the documents that need to be printed for the visit earlier today but I couldn't do it yet because I had another client visit to cope with. This is no problem as I know that all the documents that he's going to need will encompass no more than 1 to 2 hours of work. I also know that I can stay late if I need to. This is very unlikely, as these documents are really not any big deal. Really.

Most directors will just send me their stuff and let me handle it. Not this one -- he f*ckin called and REMINDED ME about it. He left me a voicemail. I wish I hadn't erased it so I could transcribe it, in all its ridiculous glory. I called him back and said, "Hey, Freak, it's me, Secretary. Just wanted to let you know that I have all the documents but haven't had a chance to print yet because of (insert workday details here). But don't worry - we'll have the documents tomorrow no matter what."

So then I go off and help Supervisor with something. A little adventure in the Field of Dreams where we tried to play a .wav file over that kicka** sound system. No dice.

I come back and my little 'you have a message' light is blinking on my phone. I check the message.

Guess who?

It's Freak, reminding me about nametents and agendas. Good God.

Oh well. He gives me a nice Christmas gift every year, so I will not execute him just yet. :o) I will allow him to live for a few more months.

Meg Ryan is Bitter About Fame; Oprah Thinks That's Stupid

And she's right…Meg Ryan should really stop whining.

Meg Ryan, who has complained about the downside of fame, asked Oprah Winfrey if she’s ever “bitter” about her fame. “Oh, hell, no,” Winfrey replied. “No?” asked Ryan. “Oh, absolutely not. Do you know, that would be absolutely impossible for me, because I was born a colored girl. I was born at a time in 1954 where to be colored in Mississippi was like against the law. And to have come from where I have come from to now be embittered because lots of people know you or like you, I would have to be totally, completely stupid.”

Source: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/11656178/

Can I Call You Back on That?

So one of my directors volunteered me to print and bind all their presentations for a meeting on the West coast. Thanks buddy. Really appreciate that.

I'm being sarcastic about that but I probably shouldn't be, as work has been slower than molasses in January lately. I'm bored off my ample a**.

Anyway, they email me the presentation. I substantially revise and reformat it, since it obviously came from client services and thus, looks horrible because that department is given very little skilled administrative support. I send it back.

Two days later I receive the presentation back with the cheerful little note that so and so volunteered me to do the printing and binding. Joy! *insert Secretary skipping through field of daisies here*

So I call up this incredibly perky account manager to find out some basic information, like, for example, how many copies do they want? She pops off with 18.

"Eighteen?"

"Yes, that'll cover the client's attendees and us too."

Good gravy. Do you have any idea how heavy 18 color presentations on the heavy color paper is going to be? And how much more work that is? It's also quite spendy, young lady. Like I care about the spendy part.

I try to perk up so I don't sound lazy. "Hmmm…did you want black and white for the ABC Nuts and Bolts Co. (that's us) attendees?"

"Oh. That would be cheaper, huh?" A little lesson for you guys -- if you don't want to do something, but you don't want to sound lazy, try sounding cheap instead. In any corporation, managers appreciate cheap people. My manager's a total cheap skate, and so is Twiggy (proof of this would be their encouragement to go through ginormous boxes of old files and remove  the binder clips and paper clips so we can recycle them). They seem to be highly esteemed so it must work for them, right?

Instead of saying, "Yes, fool." I decided to take the Nanny McPhee route and say, "Mmm."

Miss Chipper went on. "Well, this is going to sound really silly, but can you give me like two seconds on that so I can check with my director?"

"Sure, no problem dear." I think to myself, "wow. Does he help you wipe your a** too? Does he instruct you on how to fold the TP and in which direction you should wipe in?"

"Ok, great, I'll call you back!"

"Ok, great!"

Five minutes later, not only are they only going to need 10 color copies, but they also are doing the black and whites at their location on the West Coast.

The Internet Connection Seems Slow Today

This is really impeding my usual afternoon cyber slacking. I may have to call someone in tech support and bug them about it.

"What seems to be the problem, ma'am?"

"Well, I'm working very hard on an extremely important project and I can't get this website to come up. I think the internet connection is slow."

Technician rolls eyes and I can hear them sigh.

"Which website, ma'am?"

"Well, for starters, I can't get Waiter Rant to come up. And now 1 2 4 I Love You is slower than molasses in January!"

"I'm sorry, what did you say you were working on?" Hmmm…do I hear suspicion?

"Oh never mind you stupid bedraggled technology rat!!! God, what sewer did they dig you up out of????!!!!! No wonder you people are housed in the basement!!!! I'll just finish this important project tomorrow!!!!! Thanks for nothing!!!"

Click. Don’t these people understand my cyberslacking needs?

Mr. Leads Wants Me Dead

So I arrive at work and am promptly hit by a wave of reflux. After downing some OJ, the reflux goes away and I am fine. While I try to think about how I'm going to survive this day without the end of it finding me surrounded by vending machine candy wrappers, Mr. Leads stops by.

I immediately think to myself, Oh great. Here comes another project with incomprehensible directions and an unclear objective that will have little to no impact on anything it is supposed to impact, but plenty of inane work for me to do.

Alas, he doesn't have a project like that for me. No, he just wants to chat. Our conversations are always so interesting.

We started talking about the springlike weather we are having and we managed to drift over to the imminent return of birds to the city. Mr. Leads is watching this bird flu thing like a hawk.

"You know, that bird flu travels quickly. There's no cure for it. Since it's carried by birds, it travels quickly, and North America is just waiting to see what's going to happen with it when the birds come back this spring."

"You're frightening me."

Mr. Leads carries on. "Hey, have you ever been to DeSoto Bend to see the annual migration? Birds as far as the eye can see. You should take your little niece out there with you. It's beautiful. You can call out and reserve a spot in the blind and everything. The sky is just FILLED with BIRDS! Sometimes they all land at the same time and lift off at the same time. Birds, birds, birds!!!!"

Uhoh.

Feeling Better Today

I really need a vacation.

So I dragged myself out of bed this morning after actually getting some good sleep, got up and did my usual routine. Brush teeth while seated on my throne, curl hair if hair is clean (it is indeed), go get dressed, put on perfume of the day, put on shoes and socks, grab hobby bag and purse, run out door. All in the space of about 15 minutes. :)

On the way to work, I checked out my now white toothy grin and noticed that I am getting old. Why am I getting old? Because I'm 29 and I discovered that I have enough baggage under my eyes to go to Europe for a month or two. Awwwww, lovely. I guess I will have to bow to Mary Kay and start using that ridiculous eye cream.