Mr. Putrid

The marketing part of our department keeps hiring hotties for their Coordinator position. Since those who have been hired, without exception, have known exactly what they were doing, their attractiveness would not normally have anything to do with anything and wouldn't merit comment by me...

 

...except that the Sales department is filled with guys who have ginormous egos and trophy wives.

 

And some of them are already looking for their next trophy wife.

 

Our newest marketing coordinator is a wonderful girl who's beautiful inside and out. She's whip-smart and just all-around nice.

 

Remember the guy that I said was sometimes putrid but who knows exactly what he wants and so he can be a pleasure to work for (since I detest uncertainty)? We're going to call him Mr. Putrid.

 

Mr. Putrid's been married for a while, probably anywhere from 7-10 years, maybe longer. He's got two kids and a very tan, fit wife. Mr. Putrid definitely works out, considering how cut he is. At least, he has that look about him when he wears his suits. He's got a flat stomach that never threatens to overwhelm his belt, and well-muscled shoulders. I'm sure that part of the reason he's so obsessive about being muscular is because his parents dubbed him with an effeminate name at birth. Mr. Putrid is also known for his ego, pretentiousness, and drive. He travels a LOT; I would guess he travels more than most of the guys on the staff. What's odd about that is that most of the guys with wives and young kids do not really want to travel; it's a part of the job that they just deal with. Mr. Putrid appears to have no problem with travelling.

 

The last marketing coordinator (MC) was cute too. Way cute. All the guys flirted with her and were constantly coming onto her. Mr. Putrid was probably the leader of the pack. History is repeating.

 

The new MC is engaged to her boyfriend of 7 years.

 

Mr. Leads and I were talking about Putrid yesterday because we were doing a report that summarizes all the leads that Marketing has gathered and distributed to the Sales department. Leads mentioned that Putrid has a habit of always saying that any leads passed to him by Marketing are irrelevant, as he always states that he was barking up that tree way before Marketing got involved. That doesn't sit well with a hard-working department that has to prove its worth every year in dollars. So then Leads and I started talking about egos and I mentioned that the Marketing department has a habit of hiring hotties (say that 10x fast), and Leads responded with yeah, we do, but they always know what they're doing. I had to agree.

 

And then Leads went off on a new tangent about Putrid.

 

"Sometimes I just get so tired of that guy," said Leads, who sits right next to the MC, "He's constantly flirting with MC. He's always telling her, 'Oh no, MC, don't get married! You're too young for that. Marriage sucks,' and one day I just had to say something. I piped up and said, 'Really? I wonder what your wife would have to say about that.'" 

 

We had a good laugh about that. Or at least a feeling of satisfaction that Mr. Putrid had received some kind of comeuppance.

Fucking Acne

I am such a pizza face right now. I hate showing my face at work like this.

 

I mean, Napoleon hates fat people...I don't wanna know what he thinks of fat people with a bunch of zits on their faces.

 

I have read that pregnancy can cause acne in the first trimester.

 

Not that I'm hoping for anything...

Lacadaisical

I thought I was one of the most lacadaisical people in the building, but, alas...someone has bested me.

 

I'm not surprised that it's Security Guard; he who is soft-spoken and will not get up to help hold the door open for you when you are plainly overburdened with Panera boxes unless you ask him to. Not that it's his job to do so; it would just be nice. Know what I mean?

 

One of my people has some prospects in and I had to order lunch for them. No biggie. He did not say it, but I am sure he wanted everything timed just right. This guy can act a little putrid sometimes, but he is kind of a pleasure to work for because he is very exact. He knows just what he wants and he does indeed communicate it well.

 

Soooo...I ordered lunch to be delivered just when I needed it here. The time came and went...I waited 7 minutes and then called the vendor, a nice little Bistro nearby our building. We order from them all the time and they are awesome...and always punctual.

 

The vendor stated that they had indeed dropped off the goodies right on time and the delivery person (who happens to be the owner) was already back.

 

Now, I have had catering orders not show up before. Panera lost 2 lunch orders one day and one of the Directors was livid. He is a gentleman though, so he did not take it out on me; he knew whose fault it was. I about shat myself when it happened because it made me look mui bad, no matter who was guilty of the snafu.

 

Pardon me while we take a dogleg into some office philosophy territory...whether it's the vendor's fault or not, Supervisor, who is Type A all the way, always finds something I could have done differently. This is the only thing about her that I find irritating. Whether it's unreasonably forcing a restaurant to fax me a confirmation of the order (yeah, like that's going to make any difference when the incompetent on the other end of the phone loses the order anyway), or whatever it is, there's always something. Basically, it's always better to avoid the 'taint of error, whether it be taint from a mistake that you yourself ro someone else made. You just don't want to be near it. So much stuff in an office like this is based on perception that proximity equals complicity in the eyes of many.

 

Having learned that the owner had delivered the food and been back at the restaurant for 10 minutes now, which would indicate that the food had been delivered at least 15 minutes ago, I headed downstairs to locate my lunch. I looked at the presently unmanned receptionist desk and nope, nothing there. At this point, I now entered a new phase of near-panic, thinking that the vendor had delivered to the wrong address. My feet were aching at this prospect, as I would have to hoof it to whichever of our buildings they delivered to and bring back the goods. Then I thought, well, sometimes she will just leave it in the kitchen, having been here umpteen times.

 

I check the kitchen. Sure enough, there lies the food.

 

I am minorly perturbed that no one called to inform me that the food had arrived. As it turns out, the vendor had spoken to Security Guard, who had lacadaisically assumed that I was in the kitchen at the time. He did not escort the Vendor to the kitchen, which is in a highly sensitive area. The mistake is understandable though, and I'm not going to raise hell over it. I mean, honestly, I could have easily made the same error. The vendor's been here I don't know how many times. I guess it just trips me out that Security Guard was that lacadaisical. It could have turned into something more serious because of that.

 

But it didn't, and I've now vented, so that's enough about it. :) I would hate to turn into Adminzilla and try to start eviscerating someone via email over something so trivial.

Baby Got Back

I am happy to report that one of the salespeople is starting to channel more than a little J.Lo. 

 

That might explain why she's changed her professional wardrobe.

 

She is still a beautiful woman though, and seems to be a beautiful person, if a little bit thoughtless at times (ha. as if I should even talk...).

 

When I first started working here, she had recently lost quite a bit of weight. Everyone was commenting on it.

 

No one is commenting on her popozao.

Devil is in the Details

The Contract Nazi emailed me today. Oh joy.

 

She had just finished the credit summary for a prospect and wanted to let me know....

 

...that I should make sure and change the spelling of the word 'Consistent' in the prospect's name on a certain document.

 

She sometimes reminds me of the late Adminzilla. However, if I had to choose between which is worse, I'd definitely pick Adminzilla.

 

Still, the Contract Nazi would kick Adminzilla's ass any day of the week and twice on Sunday.

So K-Fed's Dropped His First Single...

I haven't heard it, but word is that it sucks. Some nice AOL user wrote the following, which I found hilarious:

 

It's official, my penis has fallen off.  Listening to this song will make you grow a vagina!  And for those of you who already have a vagina - listening to this song will make it grow teeth and mold.  I'd rather pass a pineapple as a kidney stone than to let this clown rape my ears.  
Comment from mindblow818 - 1/14/06 1:14 PM

 

Yippy skippy, Gwynny's Preggy

This appeared on the internet months ago. Everyone who can read a blog knows that she's pregnant and she's been in the family way for a while now. Duh. Blythe Danner let it slip a while ago and plus there've been myriad pictures of Gwyneth wearing maternity clothes. DUH.

 

 

If You're Going to Make a Cake...

you have to break a few eggs.

 

Have you ever seen "The Human Stain" with Nicole Kidman, Anthony Hopkins, and Ed Harris? It's really good. Anyway, Hopkins' character is the head of a department at some college. Someone accuses him of making a racial slur and no one will stand up for him because he's made enemies while building up his department. As he tells his lawyer, if you want to make a good English department, you've got to break a few eggheads. It's a fascinating, if sad, movie.

 

Anyway, in order to make a lean, mean, selling machine, you've got to break a few VPs.

 

Our department's been fat and VP-heavy for quite some time now. And in the past 2 years of my 3-year tenure here, I've seen some fat-trimming. First MJ went. Then sundry Directors. Now a few VPs are being demoted to Directors.

 

We didn't fully understand why MJ was cut loose. Was it because she was paid the most? Was it because she had grown lacadaisical (although I am really the one who's the poster child for that trait)? Was it because Napoleon just never really liked her?

 

Although no one has told me, "MJ was let go because there are about to be less VPs and too many EAs," I put the pieces together today when Mr. Leads told me a little something. Specifically, at least 3 former VPs are now Directors, although it isn't official yet. All 3 VPs are people who have not had direct reports for a long time, if ever. For two of them, I wondered why they were even hired as VPs. One of them is a long-time employee who started as an SVP, then was demoted to VP, and is now being demoted to Director.

 

Now it makes a lot more sense why I now have two additional gents to support. It's not because I was so damn good. After all, my little 'victory' was accompanied by a performance improvement notice. It's because I support all the Directors. And now these VPs that I was so proud to acquire as beneficiaries of my services are just Directors; just rank and file salespeople.

 

So let's gaze into our crystal ball a little, shall we?

 

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

- A few more Directors will be hired. One of the lower-eschelon people who sells the simple services might be fired or may quit as leads are drying up.

- More moderation at office open-bar type parties will be urged...these parties might begin moving toward the 'you get 2 tickets for drinks'-type parties. Don't believe me? Consider the progression. These parties used to be held at some cheap little bar in Dundee. Then they were moved out west to an upscale restaurant. In the same move, spouses and significant others were invited, in order to tone things down a bit. Next, someone was actually fired for wild behavior at a party. Yes, I know...technically, she did verbally and physically assault her manager whilst in a drunken stupor, but geez! At least she didn't bump and grind against anyone like others who shall remain anonymous.

- Management will use micro-management to passive aggressively encourage people to travel less. Just make it as painful as possible to travel and people will start to avoid it like the plague.

- We'll go through two EAs. Neither will be someone who applies internally because they know that if they work for Napoleon, if history is any indicator, they won't be working here much longer.

 

Anything other than that, I can't really hypothesize. I feel like I am in a chess game or one of those mythic long-range plans where the participants can't really tell what the end goal is, as was the intent of the planners. Unless they have razor sharp business instincts. We all know that I don't harbor those talents.

Dad Fell Last Night...and I Hate the Ugly Duckling

If you've downed half a pint of Vodka and you're 74 years old, and you're taking the trash out and you fall and almost bust your head open, who you gonna call?

 

FAT DAUGHTER! (same # of syllables as GHOSTBUSTERS) Get the rhythm.

 

Now let's see if we can construct a rhyme from this to the tune of one of Phrecklette's favorite volumes, Monkeys on the Bed.

 

Half a pint of vodka... (5 little monkeys)

Swishin' in your head... (jumpin on the bed)

Dad fell down... (one fell off)

And bumped his head (and bumped his head)

Daddy called my mama...(momma called the doctor)

And my mama said...(and the doctor said)

No more vodka swishin in your head! (no more monkeys jumpin on the bed!)

 

Anyway, he called me around 10:30 and scared the bejesus out of me. I immediately knew there was no way I was going to avoid sleep deprivation and leaving my nice warm apartment and going down there to deal with my train wreck of a family. After I hung up, I told Boyfriend, "I gotta go," and he didn't argue...

 

...until I decided I wanted to take my car instead of the truck with no radio and a missing window. Said truck is also noisy as hell, probably due to the missing window behind the driver's head. I'm trying really hard not to be materialistic and selfish, and to view myself in a partnership where resources are shared equally and divided logically...where the right resource is applied to the right problem...but pardon me if I am tired of driving the ugly duckling all the time. For one thing, I like listening to the radio while I am driving. Secondly, I like having a window behind my head.

 

Although Bessie is no prize with her broken hatchback, broken driver's seat, and disintegrated front and rear bumpers, she still has a working radio and all windows are intact (well, expect for that Plexiglass one...but hey, it's still there and it's not made of cardboard...it's made of a glass-like substance) and I paid for that car. Pardon me if I'm selfish enough to have some pride in my little car that is the first car that has ever been solely mine.

 

If one were to compare the two vehicles side by side and then be asked which one you'd prefer to drive, you'd probably opt for Bessie. The truck is quite obviously considered a work truck, and as such, not much has been done to improve it. There are paint splashes in the gas-sucking truck's sunken, heavily dented bed and it's very obvious that only the most rudimentary level of care has been taken to preserve the interior. A better way to put that might be to say that the truck's interior has been maintained just enough to keep it from being intolerable. The seat upholstery is ripped and no vacuum has ever penetrated that inner sanctum also known as the truck's cab. There are ropes and jugs of antifreeze, pop cans, cigarette packs, all kinds of crap in the passenger seat well. Boyfriend doesn't give a rat's ass about how dirty the truck is, as long as it can be driven and a passenger, if necessary, can manage to get into the passenger seat while resting his or her feet on all the junk that makes its home there. And as long as he doesn't have to spend too much time in it.

 

Why doesn't Boyfriend give a rat's ass about how dirty the truck is? Because it's a work truck, it's a dump, and it's a vehicle that has one thing going for it: it runs. Oh and that one other thing...Boyfriend hardly ever drives the truck, and if he does, it's only because he couldn't think of a good enough reason to avoid it.

 

Admittedly, there are good logical reasons why Boyfriend drives Bessie so much and I am relegated to the Ugly Duckling. For one thing, the truck sucks gas and I live close to my work, while my apartment is located fairly far from Boyfriend's work. On the days that he has gNat, he needs a vehicle with a backseat. Supposedly. Never mind that you can put a carseat in the front seat and furthermore, that the front seat was deemed just fine for Phrecklette.

 

And of course there's all that driving that he simply must do to show off the little cherub on the days that he has her (remember that comment about sleep deprivation embuing me with the personality of a serpent?). Hey, he only gets to see her 32 hours out of the damn week (which is ironic, considering that BAD parents get to see their children far more...just ask my sister, who thought socks and duct tape were good babysitters for her 2 year old. Or, hey, just ask that witch that Boyfriend fathered a child with...she gets tons of time to screw up the kid each week and actually gets paid for the privilege.) so there's a lot of crap you gotta squeeze into that time in order for people to know they have a granddaughter and a niece and a stepdaughter.

 

We mustn't forget that there's only place where one can acquire that demi-god, Cigarettes, at a reasonable price -- Council Bluffs, a full 12 miles or so from our domicile of love. And there's only one decent restaurant in town, and that's Jim's Florence Bar and Grill, a greasy spoon located where? In North O, which is even farther away from Council Bluffs. So, of course, Boyfriend must drive all over God's green earth to acquire sundry items and dine in happiness. I can actually give him the Jim's thing, as West O is made of plastic and has no character.

 

Boyfriend wanted to take the car to work last night, ostensibly because it saves gas. But we both know, although he won't admit it, that gas ain't the only reason. All the reasons above sort of amalgamate into this one: the car uses less gas, an undebatable fact.

 

Usually, driving the truck doesn't bother me so much. But when my Dad, who stroked out right in front of me last year and transformed into a ravaged old man overnight, falls and could very likely have cracked his head open and needs me to take him to the hospital, I expect that Boyfriend will be sensitive enough to shut the hell up about using the damn car instead of the truck, let me do what I want so I can take comfort from where I will, and then deal with the rest after the damn crisis is over.

 

I just wanted to get out the damn door and see how badly my dad was injured while that tool sat there and argued with me about my attitude, my supposed selfishness, etc. I found it absolutely astounding that someone who knew intimately what I went through with my dad, who knew intimately how hard that hit me, would be so insensitive and petty in the face of something that he knew or should have known was bothering me down to my very core. I keep waiting for Boyfriend to wake up one day, be sensitive to what's important to me, and act like a human being in situations such as these, but it ain't happened yet. As I write this, my blood is boiling.

 

I know today that I am carrying some serious resentment and anger from that last night. Until that sort of washes away, it will be hard to put up with all the usual stuff that I overlook on a daily basis...like the fact that Boyfriend is starting to smoke in my apartment wherever he damn well pleases rather than actually being considerate of the fact that I hate his stinking cigarettes and I don't want my apartment or clothes to smell like cigarette smoke. Judging by this sweater's scent, it may be too late for that. Oh I could go on and on about that, but I've already written the book of Genesis, so I'll just stop here.

 

I'm glad I have somewhere to vent this stuff. I feel like I could take someone's head off right now.

2nd Burning Question of the Day

How is it that:

Ted Kennedy,

a 'Catholic'

can openly be pro-choice and

help further the cause of abortion and

not be excommunicated

by the Catholic Church?

That one's pretty damn sad. Especially since one time, I was in confession, and I expressed dissent with something the Church did and my confessor made sure to point out to me that doing so publicly could result in excommunication. And all I am is a secretary.

Buring Question of the Day

How is it that:

 

Lindsay Lohan,

who is all of 19 years old,

can drink and be photographed drinking and

not get arrested and

not be charged with anything?

 

I don't think she's emancipated, unless you count being in movies as being an emancipated minor.

 

Thoughts?

Twiggy’s Expanding Derriere

Twiggy is one of those old-school women who will under no circumstances tell you her age. She religiously covers up her gray hair with Miss Clairol and has a fitness regimen. You will not see her without makeup. However, she’s got to be about 40 or something because her sister’s kid has kids of about 4 years old…whom Twiggy is in love with. It’s kinda cute and definitely humanizes Twiggy a little bit for me.

I’m not sure how much longer I will be able to call Twiggy by the moniker I’ve bestowed upon her in this blog. It is apparent that Twiggy is expanding.

Not by much, mind you. It is only apparent to me because she has changed how she dresses. Her suits and whatnot do not fit her very well…basically, she’s channeling a little J. Lo. She’s stopped wearing them altogether. And then there was the day when she was wearing her shirt out to hide the fact that her pants were not buttoned.

This is going to sound ultra-horrible, but…

I’m glad I’m not the only one around here who gains weight!

How often do we feel like we’re the only ones who have trouble with our weight? I often feel jealous of people who seem to effortlessly be thin…even though I intellectually know that it’s not that easy, even for they who are born naturally thin.

It is not acceptable for the salespeople to be significantly overweight in this company. While they are not expected to be twig-like, they are not supposed to develop beer bellies, too much ass, or anything akin to the preceding. If they gain a little weight, they are expected to cover that up with extra-well-tailored clothing.

I actually heard someone referring to a fat person by the term ‘whale’ in conversation the other day. It made me respect him quite a lot less, especially considering that when I started working with him, he himself was whale-like, to use his jerk-terminology.

I think that it’s actually considered unprofessional, in this company, to be overweight, no matter how one dresses or acts otherwise. To be overweight in this sales department is to be the victim of discrimination, conscious or not, and sniggering behind closed doors. There’s one sales guy here who’s a little chubby, but he works his butt off and so no one messes with him. Sometimes I think he has to achieve even more than the other salespeople in order to be taken seriously.

Anyway, that’s just my perception…but I bet I’m not the only person to notice it.

I have close to nothing to do and Twiggy is working her recently amplified hindquarters off...

I can feel the daggers in my back. And that's kinda funny because we have been chums recently. I guess showing up on time every day just isn't cutting it anymore in order to be her 'friend'. Now she actually expects me to be a workhorse or something like that.

No, I think what really 'made her day' was when a VP asked me to do his travel. When MJ got canned, 2 of her VPs were assigned to me. I was supposed to do their clerical and event-planning functions and Twiggy was assigned their travel. One of the VPs has a habit of just having me do his travel. I have a habit of just saying yes. Twiggy has a habit of becoming fairly angry and expressing that passive-agressively when I do it.

I think she is proud that she has 2 VPs assigned to her for their travel instead of she just picks up the slack because she's who they happen to like dealing with. And of course when I do travel for that VP, that's invading her territory.

I guess I'm going to have to choose between being the 'go-to' person for that VP or being chums with Twiggy. I think I'll go ahead and choose 'chummery'.

VPs come and go. Twiggy stays.

Boyfriend Wants in on This 'Secret'

Boyfriend may soon be reading this blog. I haven't made up my mind about that.

 

This blog contains a lot of things I've said about him that I'm not proud of; things that I said when I was angry and or in the thrall of others who thought that Boyfriend was the Devil Incarnate because he threatened that person's authority over and plans for my life. This blog exposes me quite a lot...a lot of the things that are in here are probably things that Boyfriend already knows or has guessed, but I am afraid that him reading negative things will serve no purpose other than to just hurt his feelings and alienate him from me.

 

Or perhaps serve as fodder during our next argument. People always profess that if you come clean with them, whatever you tell them is safe with them, but it's usually not really safe. Your confidences will indeed one day become argument fodder. People are just fallible that way. Boyfriend's already done that. I have trusted him with intimacy and it's sometimes been rewarded with spite during arguments. It's hard to feel safe giving him my most intimate thoughts and doubts about myself because I know they might be thrown back in my face eventually. I can't really say that I'm perfect in this way, either, but I try not to punch below the belt during arguments, though sometimes passion causes me to do things that are against my better judgment.

 

Boyfriend makes a case for wanting access to this blog. He says that it is upsetting to him that millions of people can read this blog and know more about my thoughts than he does. In one way, that's true. But if he would just listen to me and not dismiss me so much, if I felt safe just telling him everything I thought and felt, then he could know just as much or more than anyone else. I hate it when I am trying to tell him something important to me and as I start to speak, he utters the infamous, "Oh Jesus", sometimes accompanied by a shake of the head, as if to say, " Oh great. Here she goes again." I'm sure he doesn't mean it, or maybe I'm not so sure, but what I get from that is this, "Oh great, here goes some meaningless pronouncement or drivel from S again," and the other thought that goes along with that, "I wish I didn't have to listen to this."

 

Although I do dislike it when he does that, I have the feeling that he's either half-kidding or kidding entirely. But I hate it when he does it...it just reminds me of past experiences of not being listened to. Some people would say, well, just stop thinking that. But relationships are supposed to be a half and half thing...if you tell your partner that you intensely dislike when they do a certain something, they should probably try to stop doing it, unless you're just being an unreasonable jerk. I don't think asking one's partner to stop adopting an air of disdain when one is about to share their thoughts and feelings is asking too much.

 

Sometimes I feel like I am playing the stupid foil to his 'genius'. Have I turned into one of those women who constantly aspires to look stupid next to her man in order to pump him up? I know I'm not stupid by any means, although sometimes lacking in common sense. I wonder if he respects my intellect sometimes. I have a feeling, though, that I am safe with him overall. He would not deliberately try to hurt me, I think.

 

Sharing this blog with him comes down to, should I let my last shred of separation go? This is probably the last thing that is completely and totally separate from our relationship. Am I willing to amalgamate my personality completely into the relationship? What is the ship sinks? The consequences would be very great; but the rewards could be much, much greater.

 

I guess it's time to let go of the what-ifs and throw in with Boyfriend. Now or never.

Another EA Bites the Dust

Well we've lost another EA. This one is the infamous Adminzilla.

I guess her drunken escapades at Tuesday's Christmas party and also 2004's Christmas party just didn't go over very well. Or perhaps it was her abuse of those she thought she had power over. Maybe it was because she talked down to so many people. One thing is clear though; even though Supervisor says she resigned, her sweater and miscellaneous personal effects are still in her cubicle and Supervisor is very, very mum about it.

I had my first screw up of the day today and I think my a** is grass. I went back to talk to Supervisor about it but she was away from her desk, Napoleon's door was closed, and the guy whose task I screwed up was also away from his desk. UH. OH. And the guy whose task I screwed up was MAD with a capital M. It's possible that I will be the next to bite the dust. We'll see.

Meanwhile, the search for a new EA begins. We'll see what we get next.

YES! N's door is open and Twiggy just told me that the Little General had gone downstairs. So he was not in N's office screaming for my head. Thank God!

I need to vent...

I am having a very whiney day.

I feel oh-so-put-upon because I have worked past 7pm at least 3 times in the past two weeks. Wah. I know there are some people who regularly expect to work that late; but I am an administrative assistant and that is not my expectation (nor is it my supervisor's), hence, when it happens, it is irritating to some degree. One late night every so often is not irritating. That would make me feel somewhat important and non-dispensable. But this is a little much for me. Every day is turning into a grinder.

And that is making me feel not so kindly toward other people. For example, Adminzilla's husband just called and whenever he calls, he just goes, "Adminzilla please." And I'm like, would you freakin' relax? My next thought was, "Gee, aren't they a matched set. Both of them think way too much of themselves…"

Poor Boyfriend got the brunt of it last night when I was running all day on 2 hours sleep, presenting a happy face to the office but taking way too much pent-up angst out on him. He had his gNat last night, so Monday nights are typically spent at his parents' house with him and the gNat and his mom and his great grandma. That's alright, but I am usually tired at the end of the day, so this little ritual, while enjoyable when conducted, is privately held in scorn by me. I had to run around on my employer's business last night and when I finally got there to pick him and the wee one up from his parents' house, the car had refused to start a few times and I was very very tired. Another way to read that sentence is to just think of the word "irritable". That sums it up nicely.

So I'm sitting in the kitchen while his mom is bouncing gNat on her knee and generally oohing and aahing over the future spoiled brat. I go, "You've been married for God knows how long. What makes it successful?" And she goes, "Every day, it's like a competition to see who can do the most for the other."

I don't know why, but that scared the heck out of me. So basically, it's all about getting outside of yourself. That is the crux of the matter. I am way too focused on my own problems to care about someone else to the depth that one must in order to make a marriage work. I'm too selfish.

Now she did not say that, and that is not what she meant either. Point is, why would it scare someone to hear that the secret to a happy marriage is to give all of yourself to your partner and then they will do the same for you? Why would that be scary? Because you would then have to take the focus off of yourself entirely and put it on the other person instead. That's what's scary. This is one of those times when I wish other people read this blog so I could hear what they think of this idea.

I need to relax pretty badly. I invited Boyfriend and gNat to come up here and visit me for lunch. I know it is unplanned, but it would relax me considerably to visit with them for like 15 minutes or something. Anything to get me away from this stupid desk. Boyfriend seemed a little put out that he must stop by my work (oh sweet Jesus no!!) and descend from on high during his time as Disneyland Dad with gNat to come and visit lowly childless old nag Me, but he agreed nonetheless.

That paragraph is just one example of why I seriously need to relax.

Why Katie Holmes Thinks Tom Cruise is All That and a Bag of Chips...

http://decentcontent.com/index.php/decentopinion/by-yusuke/tard-of-the-week-chris-klein-actor-bachelor-alpha-male/

Hilarious. Chris Klein is their tard of the week. LOL.

And sadly true.

Even more sadly, this idiot is from Omaha, Nebraska, my hometown. Disgusting.

Today's Horoscope

Sheila,
You are like a rock today -- solid in your position and steady enough for others to lean on. You might be called upon to settle a dispute or otherwise play out the role of an authority figure. Embrace this task, for you can help others while improving your self-esteem at the very same time.

Maybe this is referring to Adminzilla.

Today's horoscope

Sheila,
This New Moon is in your 2nd House of Possessions and your own self worth may now be called into question. If others are playing a part in your current bout with self doubt, remember that they may merely be taking cues from you. It's a good thing that you Scorpios are masters of metamorphosis, for no one else can make you feel better; it must come from within.

Yippy skippy.

Twiggy and Me

Now that I am responsible and well-dressed as well as chipper….actually, let's just stop right there. It's exhausting just to look at that.

Anyway, now that I am responsible and well-dressed and chipper to boot, Twiggy thinks I am her new best friend. She is constantly telling me all this stuff about her life and, well, whatever crosses her mind. That's ok except that I really do have work to do now. So it becomes a problem when I have to turn around and tend to my work while trying not to be rude. I don't want tick her off.

Well I have to go work on contracts now. Before the contract Nazi sends me to the employment gas chamber...