Reactions

1. Being asked to reformat a PowerPoint that's all screwed up…
….It's a personal affront to me that someone could possibly screw up a PowerPoint, ignoring our marketing standards, because surely they must have known that I would be called on to fix their FUBAR'd presentation! How dare they create more work for me?!

2. Being asked to do something NOW…
…How dare you assume I have nothing to do simply because I'm reading A Socialite's Life and checking my Yahoo mail? I am taking a much-needed mental break from my demanding job. You know, your lack of planning does not constitute my emergency, dude.

3. Being asked to put paper in the copier…
…Why? Are you too STUPID to open a drawer and put paper in it, moron?!

4. Geico Callers…
…No, I don't know Geico's number, fat fingers. I'm not directory assistance and stop interrupting my reading of important celebrity gossip and watching Britney Spears develop borderline personality disorder in front of our very eyes.

That's about it. I'm too tired to write any more on this post…I am starting to plot how I can maybe get to leave early today, but there's close to zero chance of that happening.

Revelation #10: Paris Hilton doesn't do drugs...

Little Paris Hilton doesn't do drugs.

Not according to the Smoking Gun...http://www.thesmokinggun.com/archive/years/2007/0628071parishilton1.html

LOL. What *was* she smoking?

Paris Hilton

Ahhh, Paris Hilton.

I know that at least one of my two readers is going to read this and think, "You hardly ever write in your blog and your most recent post is about Paris Hilton?"

But surely you saw that interview with Larry King. Let me, from memory, paraphrase my favorite part:

"You were seen with a Bible prior to going to jail."

"Yes."

"So you're religious?"

"I'm more spiritual than religious."

"Catholic? You go to Mass?"

"Yes." Now she looks kinda scared…since she just told a lie lol. Honey, most people don't go churchin' on Sunday these days, you don't need to tell him what you think he wants to hear.

"So did you take your Bible to jail with you?"

"Well, you're not allowed to take anything with you into Lynwood. I ordered one off the commissary list though."

"Oh ok. So you read the Bible a lot in jail?"

"Yes." So introspective and philosophical, this one.

"So what was your favorite verse?"

*silence*

"Umm…" Now she's looking around…maybe she's hoping Jesus will float down from the heavens and whisper in her ear, 'Jesus wept', the shortest verse in the Bible.

"Let's see…." More looking around.

"I don't really have a favorite verse."

Music

I'm so thankful we can listen to music at work.

I don't feel particularly inspired today, about the funniest thing that's happened today is that I was listening to a Hilary Duff song and turned it down because I was afraid someone might hear…and notice that I was listening to Hilary Duff…she's not that bad, ok?!

Other than that, I pissed off the King today. I was neglectful and lazy and procroastinor-y because I didn't act on the knowledge, which I obtained with my psychic abilities last Wednesday, that his clients would be 30 minutes early today. 'See, that's why I wanted all this in place on Thurday or Friday.' On Thursday or Friday, I was helping other people who needed their stuff asap too. I know you're the human equivalent of the Sun, Your Highness, but no one else seems to recognize that. Forgive them, Highness, they know not what they do.

I like this dude, but he needs to lay off the prima donna act. Sure, I could've worked a little faster on his stuff this morning, but everyone else here is high-maintenance too. I can't just put them off.

That's about it for now folks.

The Story of Crabby

Secretary: crabby just stopped by.
Secretary: she is feuding with her department's executive assistant.
Secretary: she came up with a new way to order office supplies.
Secretary: it's innovative.
Secretary: wanna know what it is?
RicoSuave: Sure...go for it
Secretary: it's efficient it's effective it's so wonderful it's almost defective!
Secretary: lol
Secretary: 'gimme some goddamn staples, BETCH!'
RicoSuave: Excuse me...shouldn't that have been spelled....BIOTCH?
Secretary: no.
RicoSuave: LOL
Secretary: you need to look up kelly's song, shoes, on youtube.
Secretary: then you'll understand.
RicoSuave: OK...that sounds interesting

Oh you bet your a$$ it is.

It's Time to Blog

I have this very, very, very dear friend of mine, we'll call him Rico Suave, which is actually what he named himself for purposes of referral in this blog. And he said to me one day, 'I hope you never post about me in your blog, because if you do, it'll mean that I've screwed up big time.' That is very accurate. Most of what I post here is a big fat whine. It's a place to vent and get over stuff.

Yes, I have almost 30 things on my to-do list (but many are crossed offfffff). Yes, I barely have time to breathe and don't  know how I'm going to find time to do expenses today, even though they desperately need doing.

But I need to vent because I am taking people's heads off.

I have five or six client visits these three days, including today. All of them have printing/binding needs, many of them have meals involved.

But ONE director is driving me nuts in particular. He has a client visit tomorrow and it's in another building.

And he wants me to actually transport china and silverware over to this building. I feel a bit like a putz, because after I initially responded to his query with, 'Are you kidding?', I caved. Never mind that it's going to be f*ckin hotter than a popcorn fart tomorrow, never mind that I have a lot of other more important stuff to do, and who cares that it might break along the frickin way and then must be transported back here dirty?!!! What a flippin prima donna!

Of course I caved.

Administrative assistant is a fancy f*ckin word for, 'Not allowed to say no.' He said he would carry the damn plates. You wouldn't believe the stuff that's come out of Supervisor's mouth before, like for example, 'Sure, you can go ahead and complain. Just make sure no one hears you.' 'Just say yes and thank you, then go somewhere else and complain.' So the image of the administrative staff is that of people who'll do anything you say.

We're so PLEASANT to work with because we never point out how stupid or wasteful your dumb a$$ is. We just say yes.

Today I hate my job. Yesterday I was happy with it. Tomorrow will be better. I just need to keep myself from making my feelings into the problem of others. *I* need to deal with them.

Honestly, I think I just feel really angry right now and I'm pretty sure it's not really because of my job. I think it has more to do with my home life. My little blossom had violent fits on Thursday and Friday and I think I'm still ticked off about it. I mean, I accept that this is just who she is, but I haven't really decompressed from it yet. I've just been maintaining, really. Just been suriving. I didn't really deal with it, I just got through it. I didn't even really cry over it. I have to admit, I didn't like being kicked in the face twice. I didn't like being slapped and bitten on the arm. At least she didn't do it like she meant it. No damage.

I wanted to beat the living sh*t out of her, which I of course would not even consider actually doing, and I didn’t appreciate it that the chick from Bschool seemed to disapprove that after taking a second round of blows to the face, I stepped out of D's room and screamed my guts out because I was upset. I'm so sick of being judged by people who AREN'T EVEN RAISING CHILDREN, let alone a child with REACTIVE ATTACHMENT DISORDER, let alone DOING IT BY THEMSELVES. I don't see what the problem with my course of action was. I'm terribly sorry that my six year old terrorist actually heard that, yes, kicking someone does indeed hurt their feelings and tick them off. Imagine that.

God I need a nap.

The Saga of Therapy Boy

Sooooo, remember that guy who called me passive aggressive? What did we call him?....Ah yes, Therapy Boy.

Ok so I had told a friend of mine at work about Plenty of Fish. She said she had a friend who was perpetually single and really, really wanted to get married and have babies. So I said, 'Hey, check out Plenty of Fish. It's huge and it's free.' So that's what her friend did. Hmmm….let's call my friend Crabby; trust me, it fits.

One day, Crabby stops by my cube and asks me how dating was going and I told her about Therapy Boy and how he'd said I was passive aggressive and stuff. We both agreed that his instincts were right; he does indeed belong in therapy.

A few weeks later, Crabby stopped by and told me about her friend's experience with Plenty of Fish. She said that her friend had met someone on there who seemed promising. 'That's great!' I felt like a co-conspirator in someone's happiness. So then Crabby told me that her friend's prospect lives in Crabby's neighborhood, and apparently some of the neighborhood soccer moms had decided that their husbands shouldn't associate with this degenerate, because there were rumors he had cheated on his wife and stuff and that's why they were divorced. Something started clicking for me and I asked Crabby what her friend's prospect's name was. And guess what? Oh yes. It was our Therapy Boy.

Now between the time that Therapy Boy had called me passive aggressive and had met Crabby's friend, he had come back to me saying that he missed me, etc. Yippy skippy. So we'd seen eachother again and all that happy stuff. I think that during at least part of the time that we were talking and he was flirting, he was probably seeing Crabby's friend. So I felt like he probably was not an entirely honest person. Next up, I hear that Crabby's friend and Therapy Boy are getting along famously. Within a week or two, I found out that Crabby's friend and Therapy Boy now know eachother in the Biblical sense and they were knowing eachother in the Biblical sense exclusively, although Therapy Boy had recently been propositioning me and continuing to flirt.

I chose not to divulge this information. Why stir up drama? It's not like they were engaged and it's not like anything was actually happening as a result of Therapy Boy's entreaties. The only thing I told Crabby was that I had asked him how dating was going and did he have a new girlfriend or anything? His answer was, 'Nope.' Hmmmm…

So as time went on, I occasionally inquired with Crabby as to how things were going. Meanwhile, Therapy Boy propositioned me one more time and after being turned down again, he stopped bugging me. I took him off my friends list, which I like to keep neat and tidy and populated only by real friends. :) Hence it is a fairly short list. I recently removed Mr. Wrong from it; we were supposedly 'friends' but how is it a friendship when someone never answers you and never messages you? It's not. So now my list is one shorter. Moving on…

Crabby stopped by my desk today and I asked her, 'So how is your friend doing with her prospect?'

'Apparently, they stopped seeing eachother last week. He wasn't returning her phone calls and so it all happened via IM.'

'Oh how cowardly. What happened?'

'Remember how he called you passive aggressive? How did he put it again?'

'Well, I had said something sarcastic and he said to me, 'I just can't be in a relationship with someone who's passive aggressive'.'

'Well, he said the same thing to her.  I think he's got something wrong with him.'

'Hmmm, you might be right about that.'

So there is the end of the Therapy Boy saga. May it rest in peace. If you want my personal opinion of Therapy Boy, which I am sure you do not, and which I will be sure to share anyway, it is that Therapy Boy needs to be in Program. I couldn't presume to say which one, but he needs one of them. Probably OA. Poor Therapy Boy...

High Maintenance

It's hard to believe but our department is so high-maintenance that tech support has an eternally open ticket that calls for them to come up here and check with us once a week to find out if we need anything. The tech guys come upstairs and shoot the proverbial crap with me for a while, then they leave. One of them sometimes leaves me 'Jesus money'. It's a fake dollar bill that says it's a 50 or 100, and when you pick it up and turn it over, it says something about, 'You'd be a lot happier with eternal life, wouldn't you?' I don't know…would eternal life make me this tired?

I guess this sort of dovetails with the guy who called me into this office this morning because he couldn't figure out why, when he clicked on one email, several were selected. He spent twenty minutes trying to figure it out. So I went in there and hit the shift key and it was fixed. I laughed so hard on my way out of that office. No, no, I wasn't cruel, he was laughing too, and then the big kahuna who sits next to his office also started laughing. Classic. :)

I haven't posted much here lately. Everything is going really well, including work. It's busy around here with Supervisor on vacation. This is her last week of vacation. God, if she ever retires, I'm quitting. The way things look, I might quit earlier. But she's only got two more years, and next year I'll have another week of vacation. Hmmm…that presents a problem. How can I leave three weeks of vacation?

D and I have family therapy tonight. I'm so tired, even though I got plenty of sleep last night, that I wish we could just skip it. Also, I will probably have to play dress-up. I hope this doesn't suck big time.

Right now life is good. D is improving all the time, and my life seems too juicy for containment right now. I have too many choices. School looms in the distance as a ginormous sucker of free time. Sometimes I think, why the heck am I doing this to myself? As it gets closer, I get a little more fearful.

Ok, back to work. Y'all have a nice day now. :)