Well, we ended up taking the apartment. I'm feeling torn on the whole matter and probably being more negative than is necessary.
Pros:
Tons of storage space. There are 6 full closets in this place and a separate storage unit. (Mama gets her very own closet!).
There's a backyard with some grass.
It's 1.5 miles from where I will be working.
No one has to walk through my bedroom to get to ANYTHING.
The walls aren't all "Fuck it all White" (the color preferred by most landlords).
Free gym on site.
There's a big ol' pool. We'll see how useful that is, or if it's super crowded during the hot months.
Cons:
Tiny. Less room than we have now, just divided up EVEN SMALLER!
It's expensive. Only $50 cheaper than where we're living now.
Shabby. The exterior is hella shabby, for the entire complex.
It's a huge soulless complex of sprawling humanity.
It's gated. Not necessarily a bad thing, but since it is a shabby complex, what exactly are they keeping out?
It's in the middle of nowhere. It's walking distance to nothing, and so they have EVERYTHING on site as part of the complex. Which makes it feel a little "Logan's Run" you know?
Poorly lit, very few windows.
But, here's the thing. We're out of time, we're out of options. We had to move and at least it's getting the baby out of my bedroom. I'm starting to freak out since we're moving in...4 days. Mostly I'm just getting nervous that this is all happening so fast, and if I'm jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire. I know, it will all be fine, but in the meantime, I'm working myself into a negative attitude frenzy, reducing everything about the move to the worst possible scenarios. This may seem like a bad idea, but really it usually works out well for me. If I imagine everything to be totally awful, then if anything about it is even half as bad, then I'm pleasantly surprised. Sounds screwy? Yes, it is. But it works for me.
Meanwhile I'm still at work, killing time, waiting for the VPs to sign off on my last two pieces. Which will never happen, and I don't care. I seriously am out of energy to care. And if I don't get sign off... I won't be here for the shit to hit the proverbial fan. I've done my diligence trying to get everything completed, and been thwarted at every turn. So, not my problem any longer.
Think they'd notice if I left mid day to run errands and only came back in time to pack up and leave? Probably not. And even so, what could they do? Hmmm. Will have to think about this a little bit. More later, maybe. Got some blog reading to get done.
Showing posts with label ridiculous. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ridiculous. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Thursday, October 9, 2008
I'll be the one twiddling my thumbs.
So, could have sworn I wrote in this thing just yesterday. Clearly, I'm a little out of it.
Still at work. They just refuse to cash me out. GAH! I hate this game. I'm just sitting here waiting. All I need are two approvals on upcoming projects and that's it. All my work is done. But that's all good. Although, I suppose if I turned in my exit interview, they'd get rid of me right quick. (Nothing unprofessional, and no name calling. Just a general, "I've never worked in a mroe negative environment in my entire life.")
I did some math earlier today and realized...man, do pay cuts suck. Sacramento better be a whole lot damned cheaper than the bay in a lot of ways or we're kind of screwed. Well, not screwed so much as exactly in the same boat. Which wasn't really the idea. The whole point of moving was to live somewhere cheaper, so we can maybe...get ahead in life? Maybe be on the right track to buying a home? Do you hear me, Sacramento? Cost less! (Not that I've even done any looking into cost of living in Sac. or prices for things I buy. Just bitching endlessly. Hi, my name is Coley.)
Warren further proves he's adorable every day. Even when he's being obnoxious, still cute. This morning, he got me up for our normal 5 am feeding (which is fine as my alarm goes off shortly thereafter), but usually he falls right back to sleep. Not so much this morning. He was wired. Crawling over me, Xtian, playing with the blinds, clapping his hands, clapping MY hands etc. He couldn't stop bouncing and laughing and dancing and squealing with delight. Which is normally such a welcomed thing. Just not when Daddy's trying to get an extra hour of sleep and Mama has to get ready for work. But, he's just so damned cheerful, you can't even hold it against him. Charming little bugger that he is.
Hungry. Need food. Enjoy your Thursday!
Still at work. They just refuse to cash me out. GAH! I hate this game. I'm just sitting here waiting. All I need are two approvals on upcoming projects and that's it. All my work is done. But that's all good. Although, I suppose if I turned in my exit interview, they'd get rid of me right quick. (Nothing unprofessional, and no name calling. Just a general, "I've never worked in a mroe negative environment in my entire life.")
I did some math earlier today and realized...man, do pay cuts suck. Sacramento better be a whole lot damned cheaper than the bay in a lot of ways or we're kind of screwed. Well, not screwed so much as exactly in the same boat. Which wasn't really the idea. The whole point of moving was to live somewhere cheaper, so we can maybe...get ahead in life? Maybe be on the right track to buying a home? Do you hear me, Sacramento? Cost less! (Not that I've even done any looking into cost of living in Sac. or prices for things I buy. Just bitching endlessly. Hi, my name is Coley.)
Warren further proves he's adorable every day. Even when he's being obnoxious, still cute. This morning, he got me up for our normal 5 am feeding (which is fine as my alarm goes off shortly thereafter), but usually he falls right back to sleep. Not so much this morning. He was wired. Crawling over me, Xtian, playing with the blinds, clapping his hands, clapping MY hands etc. He couldn't stop bouncing and laughing and dancing and squealing with delight. Which is normally such a welcomed thing. Just not when Daddy's trying to get an extra hour of sleep and Mama has to get ready for work. But, he's just so damned cheerful, you can't even hold it against him. Charming little bugger that he is.
Hungry. Need food. Enjoy your Thursday!
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Of Babies and Wedding Gifts.
I think Warren is trying to kill us all. (People who don't give a crap what my kid does, go ahead and skip ahead, I'll let you know when we're done here). Up until a week ago:
Warren went down to sleep with about 1 minute of whining, but would wake up about once or twice a night. I don't think he was actually hungry, but more out of habit and nursing as a way of going back to sleep. Generally, we put him down by 7 pm, and had to get him up at 6:15 am. (Yes, I have to wake my sleeping baby to get him to daycare in time for me to get to work on time.)
So, in an effort to break the wake up habit, Xtian and I employed a method that has been successful in the past. It's pretty simple, I sleep on the couch, so when Warren wakes up the milk-machine isn't even there, so he goes back to sleep. Eventually, he'll stop waking up all together since the payoff isn't there.
The last time we did this was right around the 4 month sleep regression. After a week, he was all good and regularly sleeping through the night again. (He started sleeping 11 hours at a stretch at seven weeks old after a night spent in my sister's room. Kat is magic.) Then there was teething, then vacation, then crawling, then daycare changes all of which disrupted our rhythm and left him needing the comfort.
So, here we are and after a week of our lazy brand of sleep training. Last night Warren didn't finally go and stay asleep until 11 pm. And then he awoke at 6 am. So, I guess technically he slept through the night, but getting 4 hours less sleep in a night. Awesome. I kind of want to punch the kid in the face when he pulls tricks like this. The kid just couldn't stop crawling. All he wanted to do was scoot around on the floor and get into mischief. As my sister pointed out to me, this is when the kid starts to prove that I am, in fact, his mama. My stubborn "I've got stuff to do, get out of my way" attitude is alive and well in the next generation. Fantastic. That's what the world needs, another ME running around.
So, we'll see how tonight goes. For Xtian's sake, I hope it goes well. While Warren can sleep in until 6, the rest of us are up by 4 am. And since Xtian drives for a living, 5 hours of sleep is not enough. I cringe to think if I had to spend 10 hours behind the wheel with only a few hours of sleep.
Ok, non-kid people, now's the time to rejoin us. Sorry to bore you with tales of things my kid does. I have officially lost 50 pounds since the end of pregnancy. That sounds more impressive than it is. At least 35 of those pounds were gone by the end of January. Which means it took me six months to lose 15 pounds. I'm awesome. I blame this all on Xtian. I'm not really sure how I can blame Xtian, but it's just got to be his fault, somehow. I'll work on that theory.
If I can take off another 20 pounds, I'll be pleased as punch. (For those who might worry, don't. Even with another 20 pounds, that still leaves me on the heaviest "Normal" weight for my body, so says all the BMI measuring things anyhow).
I can now officially wear, not just zip up, actually wear in public everything in my closet. That's mostly due to my throwing out all my old clothes, but still. I'm taking credit for it. Maybe some day I'll go into the basement, and actually be able to put on my OLD clothes with size numbers not in the double digits. But probably not. (Durned pregnancy and the havoc it wreaks on your hip width).
This weekend we'll be attending Xtian's friend's wedding. Should be delightful, I just love the groom. But I just went and looked at their gift registry. Wow. There are officially 10 items on the list for under $100 adn they've all been purchased already. Everything else is anywhere from $200-$500 per item. And there is no furniture on there. Dear lord, why oh why do they need $5,000 worth of dishes? And then register for a couple sets of "Casual China" on top of it?
I fully expect to be invited for dinner parties on a monthly basis. Also, why do you purchase sheets that cost over $125 per sheet...that's singular, not a sheet set... ONE SHEET. To quote my sister, "So, do you just kill yourself when you get your period on a $125 sheet?" And they want several sets of them. ACK!
Clearly, when I got married, I didn't do this right at all. Look. It's ok to want nice things, and it looks like people are buying them. But keep in mind who your friends are, and that they too will be buying these gifts. The groom's friends are all broke. So, register for a bunch of cheap things so at least they can buy you something and not have to feel like jerks. I'm not saying DON'T register for that $500 duvet. But maybe also register for... a $20 toaster. Hell, I thought I'd go cheap and buy some towels or wash cloths. NOPE. $43 per towel, $26 per wash cloth. Yeah. I think I'll buy them one wash cloth, Happy Wedding Day! I would just give cash, but we really can't afford to part with enough cash to make a decent gift. So, I usually just buy a few cheapo items and then it doesn't look so chintzy. Thank god for sales, we bought two pillows for $19. Whew!
On the plus side, a registry like that demands a fancy pants wedding. I swear to you now, if there's not an open bar with top shelf liquor, I'm demanding a refund. Ok, maybe I'll just make snarky comments afterward, but you get the drift. I can only describe this registry with the word "ostentatious", I'm fairly certain it's not the groom's doing. He's just not that type, or hasn't been when I've spent time with him. And it makes me think negatively of the bride, whom I've not met. To give the benefit of the doubt, she may just be a darling girl, and her parents are encouraging her to put all these unbelievable things on their gift list. But in my head, she's becoming a bit of a villain. Or at least a materialistic brat. I know, it's not very nice of me, and I'm trying to keep an open mind, but sheesh. Not easy.
Warren went down to sleep with about 1 minute of whining, but would wake up about once or twice a night. I don't think he was actually hungry, but more out of habit and nursing as a way of going back to sleep. Generally, we put him down by 7 pm, and had to get him up at 6:15 am. (Yes, I have to wake my sleeping baby to get him to daycare in time for me to get to work on time.)
So, in an effort to break the wake up habit, Xtian and I employed a method that has been successful in the past. It's pretty simple, I sleep on the couch, so when Warren wakes up the milk-machine isn't even there, so he goes back to sleep. Eventually, he'll stop waking up all together since the payoff isn't there.
The last time we did this was right around the 4 month sleep regression. After a week, he was all good and regularly sleeping through the night again. (He started sleeping 11 hours at a stretch at seven weeks old after a night spent in my sister's room. Kat is magic.) Then there was teething, then vacation, then crawling, then daycare changes all of which disrupted our rhythm and left him needing the comfort.
So, here we are and after a week of our lazy brand of sleep training. Last night Warren didn't finally go and stay asleep until 11 pm. And then he awoke at 6 am. So, I guess technically he slept through the night, but getting 4 hours less sleep in a night. Awesome. I kind of want to punch the kid in the face when he pulls tricks like this. The kid just couldn't stop crawling. All he wanted to do was scoot around on the floor and get into mischief. As my sister pointed out to me, this is when the kid starts to prove that I am, in fact, his mama. My stubborn "I've got stuff to do, get out of my way" attitude is alive and well in the next generation. Fantastic. That's what the world needs, another ME running around.
So, we'll see how tonight goes. For Xtian's sake, I hope it goes well. While Warren can sleep in until 6, the rest of us are up by 4 am. And since Xtian drives for a living, 5 hours of sleep is not enough. I cringe to think if I had to spend 10 hours behind the wheel with only a few hours of sleep.
Ok, non-kid people, now's the time to rejoin us. Sorry to bore you with tales of things my kid does. I have officially lost 50 pounds since the end of pregnancy. That sounds more impressive than it is. At least 35 of those pounds were gone by the end of January. Which means it took me six months to lose 15 pounds. I'm awesome. I blame this all on Xtian. I'm not really sure how I can blame Xtian, but it's just got to be his fault, somehow. I'll work on that theory.
If I can take off another 20 pounds, I'll be pleased as punch. (For those who might worry, don't. Even with another 20 pounds, that still leaves me on the heaviest "Normal" weight for my body, so says all the BMI measuring things anyhow).
I can now officially wear, not just zip up, actually wear in public everything in my closet. That's mostly due to my throwing out all my old clothes, but still. I'm taking credit for it. Maybe some day I'll go into the basement, and actually be able to put on my OLD clothes with size numbers not in the double digits. But probably not. (Durned pregnancy and the havoc it wreaks on your hip width).
This weekend we'll be attending Xtian's friend's wedding. Should be delightful, I just love the groom. But I just went and looked at their gift registry. Wow. There are officially 10 items on the list for under $100 adn they've all been purchased already. Everything else is anywhere from $200-$500 per item. And there is no furniture on there. Dear lord, why oh why do they need $5,000 worth of dishes? And then register for a couple sets of "Casual China" on top of it?
I fully expect to be invited for dinner parties on a monthly basis. Also, why do you purchase sheets that cost over $125 per sheet...that's singular, not a sheet set... ONE SHEET. To quote my sister, "So, do you just kill yourself when you get your period on a $125 sheet?" And they want several sets of them. ACK!
Clearly, when I got married, I didn't do this right at all. Look. It's ok to want nice things, and it looks like people are buying them. But keep in mind who your friends are, and that they too will be buying these gifts. The groom's friends are all broke. So, register for a bunch of cheap things so at least they can buy you something and not have to feel like jerks. I'm not saying DON'T register for that $500 duvet. But maybe also register for... a $20 toaster. Hell, I thought I'd go cheap and buy some towels or wash cloths. NOPE. $43 per towel, $26 per wash cloth. Yeah. I think I'll buy them one wash cloth, Happy Wedding Day! I would just give cash, but we really can't afford to part with enough cash to make a decent gift. So, I usually just buy a few cheapo items and then it doesn't look so chintzy. Thank god for sales, we bought two pillows for $19. Whew!
On the plus side, a registry like that demands a fancy pants wedding. I swear to you now, if there's not an open bar with top shelf liquor, I'm demanding a refund. Ok, maybe I'll just make snarky comments afterward, but you get the drift. I can only describe this registry with the word "ostentatious", I'm fairly certain it's not the groom's doing. He's just not that type, or hasn't been when I've spent time with him. And it makes me think negatively of the bride, whom I've not met. To give the benefit of the doubt, she may just be a darling girl, and her parents are encouraging her to put all these unbelievable things on their gift list. But in my head, she's becoming a bit of a villain. Or at least a materialistic brat. I know, it's not very nice of me, and I'm trying to keep an open mind, but sheesh. Not easy.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Huzzah!
Over the weekend we had a family party to attend for some cousins' birthdays. I was excited to go because my aunt and her kiddo would be there. I was dreading it because my gross uncle and irritating step grandmother would be there. But, I refused to let the former be outweighed by the latter.
As soon as we got there, I was irritated at my gross uncle. To be fair, he didn't really say anything to me, or do anything icky, I just don't really like him. So everything he does bothers me. And I'm a little horrified that my aunt and uncle are drinking again. (This is the aunt and uncle who only two/three years ago were in jail for having a meth lab in their home, and for abusing/neglecting their four children due to said meth lab). Yeah, you know what drug addicts need? A gateway drug like alcohol to allow them to exercise addictive behaviors. Whatever. At least the kids are old enough to tell folks when things get bad...I hope. But they kept it together while at the event, and really if anything gross uncle was trying to be less annoying. In fact, he never mentioned the whole "Yay boys! Booo girls!" bullshit he's been repeating for a year. So, that's a plus.
And Step Grandma has found something else to keep her worries occupied. The new worry is that my aunt will have another baby before she loses weight. This from a woman who could stand to drop 100 pounds, easily. But I guess it's easier to pick on your daughter than deal with your own problems. Sheesh, the more time I spend with her, the more I really appreciate my own mom. How do you deal with a mother who can't shut up and be happy for you? How do you not strangle the woman for constantly putting you down and doubting every decision you make?
How the hell is it any of her business if/when my aunt has another kid? Where do you even get off feeling the right to an opinion on someone else's reproductive plans?
Gah!
Anyhow. When my aunt and her kiddo, Evan (who's 6 weeks older than Warren and about 10 pounds heavier), arrived, we put both babies on the floor to check eachother out. Both babies had pacifiers in their respective mouths. So they sat for a minute, staring at each other. Then Warren reached over, pulled Evan's pacifier out, and tried to put it into his own mouth. When Warren failed that, since he still had his own pacifier, he reached over and handed Evan's paci to Xtian. Meanwhile, Evan just sat there like, "hey... that's mine. What the hell?" Too funny. It made me even more certain that Evan will be the Lenny to Warren's George. ("We're gonna have rabbits, right George? And live off the fat of the land!") But hopefully without mental handicaps and mercy killings.
And in a final note of great news, My sister and Kate (her girlfriend) will arrive in Oakland today! They're finally going to be here, permanently, and I'm so excited I can hardly sit still.
As soon as we got there, I was irritated at my gross uncle. To be fair, he didn't really say anything to me, or do anything icky, I just don't really like him. So everything he does bothers me. And I'm a little horrified that my aunt and uncle are drinking again. (This is the aunt and uncle who only two/three years ago were in jail for having a meth lab in their home, and for abusing/neglecting their four children due to said meth lab). Yeah, you know what drug addicts need? A gateway drug like alcohol to allow them to exercise addictive behaviors. Whatever. At least the kids are old enough to tell folks when things get bad...I hope. But they kept it together while at the event, and really if anything gross uncle was trying to be less annoying. In fact, he never mentioned the whole "Yay boys! Booo girls!" bullshit he's been repeating for a year. So, that's a plus.
And Step Grandma has found something else to keep her worries occupied. The new worry is that my aunt will have another baby before she loses weight. This from a woman who could stand to drop 100 pounds, easily. But I guess it's easier to pick on your daughter than deal with your own problems. Sheesh, the more time I spend with her, the more I really appreciate my own mom. How do you deal with a mother who can't shut up and be happy for you? How do you not strangle the woman for constantly putting you down and doubting every decision you make?
How the hell is it any of her business if/when my aunt has another kid? Where do you even get off feeling the right to an opinion on someone else's reproductive plans?
Gah!
Anyhow. When my aunt and her kiddo, Evan (who's 6 weeks older than Warren and about 10 pounds heavier), arrived, we put both babies on the floor to check eachother out. Both babies had pacifiers in their respective mouths. So they sat for a minute, staring at each other. Then Warren reached over, pulled Evan's pacifier out, and tried to put it into his own mouth. When Warren failed that, since he still had his own pacifier, he reached over and handed Evan's paci to Xtian. Meanwhile, Evan just sat there like, "hey... that's mine. What the hell?" Too funny. It made me even more certain that Evan will be the Lenny to Warren's George. ("We're gonna have rabbits, right George? And live off the fat of the land!") But hopefully without mental handicaps and mercy killings.
And in a final note of great news, My sister and Kate (her girlfriend) will arrive in Oakland today! They're finally going to be here, permanently, and I'm so excited I can hardly sit still.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Grrrr.
I found a new dentist last week, which was delightful, but he asked me if I grind my teeth. I've never caught myself grinding, so I said I didn't think so.
Of course, now I can't stop grinding my teeth. Pleasant.
Warren decided that 2 am is precisely the time to wake up for the day. Xtian and I spent a couple of hours trying to get him back to sleep, without any luck. So, I gave up around 4:45 am and just called it "morning." So not thrilled right now. And I know, if I just feed him, he'll go right back to sleep, but if I JUST broke him off the habitual wake up for food he had going on. This is some bullshit and I'm not dealing with it well. I'm fairly certain I totally cussed him out at 3 am. Luckily, he doesn't know how to say "GO TO SLEEP, YOU LITTLE FUCKER!" yet. Oh lord, I have a lot of parent/teacher conferences in my future.
My sister and her girlfriend are in town this week getting everything set up for when they move here in three weeks. I'm so excited to have them close by, makes me want to never leave the bay.
But then I'll drive by a brand new Lincoln Navigator missing it's entire rear, wheels and accessories (clearly stolen then dumped in my neighborhood after being in an accident), I think, "What the hell are we doing here?"
My brother graduates from rehab tomorrow, so I'll be scarce around these parts for a bit. (Like you'd be able to tell, right? Man, I'm a shitty poster.)
Anyhow. Time to eat. Hurrah.
Of course, now I can't stop grinding my teeth. Pleasant.
Warren decided that 2 am is precisely the time to wake up for the day. Xtian and I spent a couple of hours trying to get him back to sleep, without any luck. So, I gave up around 4:45 am and just called it "morning." So not thrilled right now. And I know, if I just feed him, he'll go right back to sleep, but if I JUST broke him off the habitual wake up for food he had going on. This is some bullshit and I'm not dealing with it well. I'm fairly certain I totally cussed him out at 3 am. Luckily, he doesn't know how to say "GO TO SLEEP, YOU LITTLE FUCKER!" yet. Oh lord, I have a lot of parent/teacher conferences in my future.
My sister and her girlfriend are in town this week getting everything set up for when they move here in three weeks. I'm so excited to have them close by, makes me want to never leave the bay.
But then I'll drive by a brand new Lincoln Navigator missing it's entire rear, wheels and accessories (clearly stolen then dumped in my neighborhood after being in an accident), I think, "What the hell are we doing here?"
My brother graduates from rehab tomorrow, so I'll be scarce around these parts for a bit. (Like you'd be able to tell, right? Man, I'm a shitty poster.)
Anyhow. Time to eat. Hurrah.
Monday, July 7, 2008
What?! I'm bored. Don't you judge me.
So, I'm bored, and to help illustrate how retarded the whole door/Crazy Lady thing is, I've created a little visual aid.
So, my friend Char works in the pink office suite. There are two doors leading out. Door A, which is right next to my boss' office, and Door B, which leads to a back hallway. Again, these doors are pretty much the same distance to anything you'd want to get to, so it's dealer's choice which one you use.
Crazy lady sent my friend Char and email informing him she didn't want Char to use Door A, and that he should be using Door B. For no other reason than... well she's crazy.
And to further show how crazy, Notice how close she is to Door A? Well, she won't use it. For any purpose. Even if she's needing something from my office suite. She'll take Door B and go around the long way just so she doesn't have to walk past my boss' office. That's a whole lot of effort, if you ask me.
Anyhow, I hope that helps.
Ok, so, now that I've killed a bunch of time with that... I HEART 3 day weekends! Especially since this is probably the first time Xtian and I have ever had a 3 day holiday weekend off together in... well at least two years. Oh, the delight! The sheer and utter fabulousness that was three whole days of hanging out together. And even better, was trading off who got up with the kid so the other could sleep in. On Saturday, I slept until... 9 am! Seriously, I mean it. NINE in the MORNING! Haven't done that since... Warren. And then Sunday, I got my happy ass out of bed and let Xtian sleep until...almost eleven. Woo! Party people.
Oh god. We're totally lame, aren't we?
So, can someone explain to me how folks in my ghetto ass neighborhood got their hands on the same fireworks that were being set off by the city? I'm not joking, these fireworks, which were being set off in the middle of the street, all over my neighborhood, were shooting up over 100 feet in the air, and exploding louder than you can imagine. Until midnight when the police finally started cruising the neighborhood. I mean, I'm pretty used to hearing gunshots, but these fireworks sounded like we were being mortared. How does one think that setting these things off, DIRECTLY ABOVE people's homes, is going to be a good idea? Oh yeah, the same people who think slinging dope is a pretty fine way to supplement their income.
Man, I can't wait to get the hell out of there.
Yeah, that's all I've got for now. Huzzah, and happy Monday.
So, my friend Char works in the pink office suite. There are two doors leading out. Door A, which is right next to my boss' office, and Door B, which leads to a back hallway. Again, these doors are pretty much the same distance to anything you'd want to get to, so it's dealer's choice which one you use.
Crazy lady sent my friend Char and email informing him she didn't want Char to use Door A, and that he should be using Door B. For no other reason than... well she's crazy.
And to further show how crazy, Notice how close she is to Door A? Well, she won't use it. For any purpose. Even if she's needing something from my office suite. She'll take Door B and go around the long way just so she doesn't have to walk past my boss' office. That's a whole lot of effort, if you ask me.
Anyhow, I hope that helps.
Ok, so, now that I've killed a bunch of time with that... I HEART 3 day weekends! Especially since this is probably the first time Xtian and I have ever had a 3 day holiday weekend off together in... well at least two years. Oh, the delight! The sheer and utter fabulousness that was three whole days of hanging out together. And even better, was trading off who got up with the kid so the other could sleep in. On Saturday, I slept until... 9 am! Seriously, I mean it. NINE in the MORNING! Haven't done that since... Warren. And then Sunday, I got my happy ass out of bed and let Xtian sleep until...almost eleven. Woo! Party people.
Oh god. We're totally lame, aren't we?
So, can someone explain to me how folks in my ghetto ass neighborhood got their hands on the same fireworks that were being set off by the city? I'm not joking, these fireworks, which were being set off in the middle of the street, all over my neighborhood, were shooting up over 100 feet in the air, and exploding louder than you can imagine. Until midnight when the police finally started cruising the neighborhood. I mean, I'm pretty used to hearing gunshots, but these fireworks sounded like we were being mortared. How does one think that setting these things off, DIRECTLY ABOVE people's homes, is going to be a good idea? Oh yeah, the same people who think slinging dope is a pretty fine way to supplement their income.
Man, I can't wait to get the hell out of there.
Yeah, that's all I've got for now. Huzzah, and happy Monday.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Meh.
Oh, it's so fun being at work the day before a holiday. Especially since very few others bothered to come in. But, just waiting for a more reasonable time to leave early. (Strangely taking off at 11 am just seems like a less than good idea). Luckily, the VP who's taken it upon himself to do a "roll call" walk through every day is on vacation. Yeah, this guy is clearly so busy and important, he takes the time to walk through every department to see who is at their desk, and who is not. Then he brings it up in leadership meetings. Just fantastic.
And there are further updates on the crazy coworker. Yes, the same one who complained about my boss "being in the building" with her. She's gotten herself a little hard on for another friend of mine, whom we'll call Char. Char is a male, who works in the same office section as crazy lady. There are two doors leading out from this section, one that leads a person past my boss' office, and one that leads out into a hallway. Both doors are about equidistant to anywhere you'd want to go (lunchroom, bathroom etc). My friend, Char, usually uses the one that passes by my boss' office. Crazy lady refuses to use that same door, even though her desk is right next to it. (See, she's going to show my boss!).
Yesterday Crazy Lady sent Char an email telling him he's not supposed to be using the door by her (the one that leads a person by my boss' office). When he replied asking her, uh, why not? She said that most people in his department use the other door, so he probably should too.
This is just weird. Is she now the gate keeper? I can't imagine how fucked up in the head she is that she actually sat down and formulated words, put them into an email and hit "send" about which door she thinks someone ought to be using. Dear god.
This is a few weeks following Crazy Lady complaining to Char's boss that Char "yawns too loudly," and once used the word "naked" in a conversation she was not part of. (And no, it was not in reference to anything explicit, more like mentioning the brand name juice).
Again, the really bizarre part is not that she makes these complaints, it's that when she does, no one from my company (like the managers or HR folks) ever question it. Instead they fully investigate the claim, and give those she's harassing warnings. Sometimes, the world doesn't make sense.
Ok, that's all I've got. New Warren videos up for your viewing...pleasure? Yeah, I know. No one besides me and Xtian actually care, but my parents need the Warren videos. So Warren videos they'll get. Huzzah!
And there are further updates on the crazy coworker. Yes, the same one who complained about my boss "being in the building" with her. She's gotten herself a little hard on for another friend of mine, whom we'll call Char. Char is a male, who works in the same office section as crazy lady. There are two doors leading out from this section, one that leads a person past my boss' office, and one that leads out into a hallway. Both doors are about equidistant to anywhere you'd want to go (lunchroom, bathroom etc). My friend, Char, usually uses the one that passes by my boss' office. Crazy lady refuses to use that same door, even though her desk is right next to it. (See, she's going to show my boss!).
Yesterday Crazy Lady sent Char an email telling him he's not supposed to be using the door by her (the one that leads a person by my boss' office). When he replied asking her, uh, why not? She said that most people in his department use the other door, so he probably should too.
This is just weird. Is she now the gate keeper? I can't imagine how fucked up in the head she is that she actually sat down and formulated words, put them into an email and hit "send" about which door she thinks someone ought to be using. Dear god.
This is a few weeks following Crazy Lady complaining to Char's boss that Char "yawns too loudly," and once used the word "naked" in a conversation she was not part of. (And no, it was not in reference to anything explicit, more like mentioning the brand name juice).
Again, the really bizarre part is not that she makes these complaints, it's that when she does, no one from my company (like the managers or HR folks) ever question it. Instead they fully investigate the claim, and give those she's harassing warnings. Sometimes, the world doesn't make sense.
Ok, that's all I've got. New Warren videos up for your viewing...pleasure? Yeah, I know. No one besides me and Xtian actually care, but my parents need the Warren videos. So Warren videos they'll get. Huzzah!
Friday, May 23, 2008
Brutal
Holy crap. When did everyone decide that Memorial Day is now a four or five day affair? I mean, I know Christmas is subject to "Holiday Creep." But I was not aware Memorial Day was in the same boat. If you couldn't tell, ain't nobody at work today. It's only 9:30 am, and I've already burned through all 30-something websites I usually browse through over the course of the day. PEOPLE! WRITE! I'm bored!
Oh, and I have something else to add to the list of bullshit people have complained about at my work. A few days ago, we got an email from one of the VPs stating that apparently there were some boxes left in the hallway, and my department needs to take care of those. Umm, no fire codes were broken, they weren't blocking any walkways, they were only in the hallway overnight, since the mailroom didn't have room for them. But during those 2 business hours the boxes were there, THREE emails were sent complaining about it. Dude, the boxes were stacked up and took up less room than an office trashcan. Just fucking ridiculous. Sometimes, I want to punch everyone in the face.
Methinks today is an excellent time to take a half day. I don't know how I"m going to make it another 5 and a half hours. I'm already done with everything that has to be done today, and I'm pretty sure this is how office violence happens. Luckily, I'm unarmed. Enjoy your long weekend folks.
Oh, and I have something else to add to the list of bullshit people have complained about at my work. A few days ago, we got an email from one of the VPs stating that apparently there were some boxes left in the hallway, and my department needs to take care of those. Umm, no fire codes were broken, they weren't blocking any walkways, they were only in the hallway overnight, since the mailroom didn't have room for them. But during those 2 business hours the boxes were there, THREE emails were sent complaining about it. Dude, the boxes were stacked up and took up less room than an office trashcan. Just fucking ridiculous. Sometimes, I want to punch everyone in the face.
Methinks today is an excellent time to take a half day. I don't know how I"m going to make it another 5 and a half hours. I'm already done with everything that has to be done today, and I'm pretty sure this is how office violence happens. Luckily, I'm unarmed. Enjoy your long weekend folks.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Now that we all have diabetes...
Or at least want to puke from all the saccharine around here, let's talk Family Party, shall we?
So, Uncle Mark, the birthday boy, showed up. And avoided me mostly. Which makes me, lucky. I only overheard a few really fucked up things being drunkenly shouted with dozens of kids present, so we'll call that "success." I'll share one choice selection, so if you have sensitive sensibilities, skip a few lines, mmmkay? While discussing a neighbor who'd been arrested for molesting a 10 year old girl, "I'd a thought he's a complete queer, 'cept for that little girl he was fucking."
Oh joy. Just awesome. My other awful uncle (at least this one isn't actually blood related in any way), Joe, made himself a complete ass, as per usual. His big thing lately has been celebrating that TWO boys were born. Yeah, we have mostly girls in all the families, the joke being that you get one boy. If you have 2 kids, if you have 12, you get one boy per family unit. And both my aunt and I had boys. And Joe has taken that as a personal achievement. What HE had to do with it, I'll never know, but he's quite pleased with himself. My favorite quote from him, regarding his three daughters, followed by a son, "I made three mistakes before I got one right." Yes, he said it in front of his young daughters. Classy.
He's been on this kick for a while, so I usually avoid him at all costs. Look, it's annoying, and offensive, and if I thought he was joking, I'd be able to overlook it. But he started in again on Saturday, he grabbed my shoulders from behind and kind of shook them back and forth while shouting, "GOOD JOB! GOOD JOB! Now just make a few more of those boys and we'll be all set!" Fucking asshole. I finally responded with, "Keep it to yourself, Joe." But he didn't get it. Because he's stupid.
The other fun thing he does, is tell me all the ways I'm doing it wrong. Specifically in how I'm raising Warren. Yes, because so much really can be done wrong at 4 months old. Good thing I don't take parenting advice from the guy who just spent 3 years in San Quentin for having a Meth lab in his home, with his children. That doesn't stop him from offering his advice however. God, I hate that guy. Why is it, half the men in my family are just the most worthless pieces of shit imaginable? And yet, Joe thinks we need MORE boys? Yeah, because they turn out so well, right? (No offense to the actually decent men in our family, of which there are a few.)
Ok, that's all the energy I have for today. I'll tell you all about my sweety mother's day and our "meh" anniversary.
So, Uncle Mark, the birthday boy, showed up. And avoided me mostly. Which makes me, lucky. I only overheard a few really fucked up things being drunkenly shouted with dozens of kids present, so we'll call that "success." I'll share one choice selection, so if you have sensitive sensibilities, skip a few lines, mmmkay? While discussing a neighbor who'd been arrested for molesting a 10 year old girl, "I'd a thought he's a complete queer, 'cept for that little girl he was fucking."
Oh joy. Just awesome. My other awful uncle (at least this one isn't actually blood related in any way), Joe, made himself a complete ass, as per usual. His big thing lately has been celebrating that TWO boys were born. Yeah, we have mostly girls in all the families, the joke being that you get one boy. If you have 2 kids, if you have 12, you get one boy per family unit. And both my aunt and I had boys. And Joe has taken that as a personal achievement. What HE had to do with it, I'll never know, but he's quite pleased with himself. My favorite quote from him, regarding his three daughters, followed by a son, "I made three mistakes before I got one right." Yes, he said it in front of his young daughters. Classy.
He's been on this kick for a while, so I usually avoid him at all costs. Look, it's annoying, and offensive, and if I thought he was joking, I'd be able to overlook it. But he started in again on Saturday, he grabbed my shoulders from behind and kind of shook them back and forth while shouting, "GOOD JOB! GOOD JOB! Now just make a few more of those boys and we'll be all set!" Fucking asshole. I finally responded with, "Keep it to yourself, Joe." But he didn't get it. Because he's stupid.
The other fun thing he does, is tell me all the ways I'm doing it wrong. Specifically in how I'm raising Warren. Yes, because so much really can be done wrong at 4 months old. Good thing I don't take parenting advice from the guy who just spent 3 years in San Quentin for having a Meth lab in his home, with his children. That doesn't stop him from offering his advice however. God, I hate that guy. Why is it, half the men in my family are just the most worthless pieces of shit imaginable? And yet, Joe thinks we need MORE boys? Yeah, because they turn out so well, right? (No offense to the actually decent men in our family, of which there are a few.)
Ok, that's all the energy I have for today. I'll tell you all about my sweety mother's day and our "meh" anniversary.
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Irritating
While getting ready to leave this morning, I realized that Xtian took my breakfast and lunch, leaving me his sad little yogurt and cheerios. Instead of my delightful fruit w/ oatmeal, chicken and corn chowder and home made granola bar. Not exactly an even exchange. Butthole.
So, instead of my glorious spicy chowder, I had to scramble at the last minute and ended up with... Ramen. Unpleasant.
Today at work, someone tried to find fault with me by claiming they'd never heard that a product's name had changed. As though I'd just made up the name change on the spot, for funsies. When I pointed out that the name had been displayed as such on our website for OVER A YEAR, at least he had the good grace to say "huh. You'd think I'd be more in the loop." Asswad.
The payroll person at my office screwed up my paycheck when I returned from Maternity leave. Even after I brought up to her how it should be done, she disagreed, then did it wrong, and just now caught her error. So, instead of my normal paycheck next week, I'll be getting $800 less. Well done. Well done.
A lady in my office has made a complaint against my boss. This will be her second complaint about him. The first was, and I'm going to quote verbatim here, "He stood too close to me once." Which is weird, right? He didn't say or do anything, she just felt he stood too near her in the lunch room one day. The current complaint, "I don't like being in the building with him in the morning." Yeah. That's pretty freakin' weird, considering he doesn't talk to her, and hasn't been in the same room as her since she made the first insane complaint. The most ridiculous thing? No one in HR, not our Vice President, no one asked her, "Are you fucking insane?" Because you can't complain about being in the building with a person who also works in the building unless you are mentally disturbed. I'm going to start complaining that I don't like to be in the bathroom at the same time as anyone else. Based on the way this little situation is playing out, will EVERYONE ELSE get chewed out for using the ladies' room? I wonder.
My office is weird. And if I don't record it all, I'm going to eventually forget how bizarre it is. Especially when I find new job and have all new things to complain about. This is my record of how utterly retarded my place of employment is.
So, instead of my glorious spicy chowder, I had to scramble at the last minute and ended up with... Ramen. Unpleasant.
Today at work, someone tried to find fault with me by claiming they'd never heard that a product's name had changed. As though I'd just made up the name change on the spot, for funsies. When I pointed out that the name had been displayed as such on our website for OVER A YEAR, at least he had the good grace to say "huh. You'd think I'd be more in the loop." Asswad.
The payroll person at my office screwed up my paycheck when I returned from Maternity leave. Even after I brought up to her how it should be done, she disagreed, then did it wrong, and just now caught her error. So, instead of my normal paycheck next week, I'll be getting $800 less. Well done. Well done.
A lady in my office has made a complaint against my boss. This will be her second complaint about him. The first was, and I'm going to quote verbatim here, "He stood too close to me once." Which is weird, right? He didn't say or do anything, she just felt he stood too near her in the lunch room one day. The current complaint, "I don't like being in the building with him in the morning." Yeah. That's pretty freakin' weird, considering he doesn't talk to her, and hasn't been in the same room as her since she made the first insane complaint. The most ridiculous thing? No one in HR, not our Vice President, no one asked her, "Are you fucking insane?" Because you can't complain about being in the building with a person who also works in the building unless you are mentally disturbed. I'm going to start complaining that I don't like to be in the bathroom at the same time as anyone else. Based on the way this little situation is playing out, will EVERYONE ELSE get chewed out for using the ladies' room? I wonder.
My office is weird. And if I don't record it all, I'm going to eventually forget how bizarre it is. Especially when I find new job and have all new things to complain about. This is my record of how utterly retarded my place of employment is.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Gripe, Gripe.
You know what's awesome? Getting up at 4:30 in the morning, walking into the kitchen only to find that the freezer was left partially open all night. Fantastic.
I mean, having an inch thick layer of freezer burn on EVERYTHING, including a three-week supply of breastmilk, is just...awesome. My favorite thing. I suppose it's my own fault for shopping like a mormon (meaning: buys everything at Costco because you're always prepared to feed 25 people, therefore have approximately 42 pounds of various meats living up in the freezer)and not insisting I be the one to arrange the freezer. The boys mean well, but sometimes Freezer Tetris is just not their game.
You want to know what's awkward? Having lunch with my work friend, Eric, Eric's baby mama, and their kid CJ. Well, the lunch itself was fine. But during their pregnancy, Eric and his baby-mama (how do you write that, by the way?) had some...disagreements as to the paternity of the kid. The kid looks just like Eric, and the paternity test came back with those same results. Fine.
So, at lunch, they just kept talking about it! The test itself and the previous Unknown status was brought up at least 10 times. Really, really awkward. After lunch, I turned to Xtian and said,"You know, that conversation right there is EXACTLY why I'm glad we got married THEN had a kid. SHeesh!"
~~
Dude, folks at my work need to get a grip. My entire department (all three of us) have determined that our schedule is from 7 am - 3 pm. It makes an otherwise heinous commute actually tolerable, and allows me to spend some daylight hours with my family. It works for us, work gets done the end. We've had this schedule for over a year. And yet, people keep complaining to our VP about what time we leave. No one seems to be concerned about what time we come in. But I guess that's not their concern. So, instead of backing us up, VP is trying to make us change our schedules.
Look, it's bad enough that she wouldn't work with me on a flexible/family friendly work week, and did everything in her power to reduce the amount of maternity leave I actually got. Does she have to keep picking away at what little time I have to spend with my family?
My work has made all kinds of claims about being "a family friendly employer." But I've yet to see ONE actual policy that backs up that claim. Flexible work schedules? Well, yes, until someone whines about it then we take them away. Working from home? Nope. Creative solutions for job-sharing/maternity leave timing? No. Onsite or even geographically close daycare? No.
As far as I can find, there isn't a single aspect of this place that could be termed "Family friendly." Fucking bullshit.
You guys? This is so weak. How pathetic and petty do you have to be to complain about someone else's work schedule? I mean, I knew that my coworkers weren't always the sharpest of folks, or the nicest of folks. But this is getting utterly ridiculous. Oh yeah, and they pay at least 10K under market value. Glorious.
But did I mention that Warren is adorable? Because he is. More pictures as soon as I can get my ass in front of the computer at home. Kisses!
I mean, having an inch thick layer of freezer burn on EVERYTHING, including a three-week supply of breastmilk, is just...awesome. My favorite thing. I suppose it's my own fault for shopping like a mormon (meaning: buys everything at Costco because you're always prepared to feed 25 people, therefore have approximately 42 pounds of various meats living up in the freezer)and not insisting I be the one to arrange the freezer. The boys mean well, but sometimes Freezer Tetris is just not their game.
You want to know what's awkward? Having lunch with my work friend, Eric, Eric's baby mama, and their kid CJ. Well, the lunch itself was fine. But during their pregnancy, Eric and his baby-mama (how do you write that, by the way?) had some...disagreements as to the paternity of the kid. The kid looks just like Eric, and the paternity test came back with those same results. Fine.
So, at lunch, they just kept talking about it! The test itself and the previous Unknown status was brought up at least 10 times. Really, really awkward. After lunch, I turned to Xtian and said,"You know, that conversation right there is EXACTLY why I'm glad we got married THEN had a kid. SHeesh!"
~~
Dude, folks at my work need to get a grip. My entire department (all three of us) have determined that our schedule is from 7 am - 3 pm. It makes an otherwise heinous commute actually tolerable, and allows me to spend some daylight hours with my family. It works for us, work gets done the end. We've had this schedule for over a year. And yet, people keep complaining to our VP about what time we leave. No one seems to be concerned about what time we come in. But I guess that's not their concern. So, instead of backing us up, VP is trying to make us change our schedules.
Look, it's bad enough that she wouldn't work with me on a flexible/family friendly work week, and did everything in her power to reduce the amount of maternity leave I actually got. Does she have to keep picking away at what little time I have to spend with my family?
My work has made all kinds of claims about being "a family friendly employer." But I've yet to see ONE actual policy that backs up that claim. Flexible work schedules? Well, yes, until someone whines about it then we take them away. Working from home? Nope. Creative solutions for job-sharing/maternity leave timing? No. Onsite or even geographically close daycare? No.
As far as I can find, there isn't a single aspect of this place that could be termed "Family friendly." Fucking bullshit.
You guys? This is so weak. How pathetic and petty do you have to be to complain about someone else's work schedule? I mean, I knew that my coworkers weren't always the sharpest of folks, or the nicest of folks. But this is getting utterly ridiculous. Oh yeah, and they pay at least 10K under market value. Glorious.
But did I mention that Warren is adorable? Because he is. More pictures as soon as I can get my ass in front of the computer at home. Kisses!
Friday, November 16, 2007
So, I am awesome.
I shall explain why.
I go to the gym before work. This means that I pack all my clothes the night before, as doing so at 4 am would lead to some rather unhappy fashion choices.
Last night, while packing my bag, I threw in one of the three pairs of pants I can still wear, a shirt I am just barely fitting into, a horribly uncomfortable pair of panties (seriously, Hanes. Some women have this thing called an “ass.” Please accommodate some booty without the front panel bunching and bulging. Thanks!), and just grabbed a bra off the top of the pile.
I got the gym this morning, worked out, had a shower and was getting dressed when I realized the bra I had packed? Hasn’t fit since before I got pregnant. It’s a full cup size and probably two band sizes too small. And the shirt I’d brought is very thin, therefore going without was not an option. So, I did my best to cram into the bra. I’m going to have welts all over my chest by the time I get home. Why do I even keep old, non-fitting clothing?
Of course, because I’m me, I don’t just keep my own retardedness to myself. I called Xtian as soon as I got to work to tell him how dumb I was. He made some sympathetic sounds and then said, “Why didn’t you just drive home and change before going to work?”
Um, because that would have made sense? Jebus. Now I’m doubly retarded, as the thought never even occurred to me. What is UP, college education? I’m pretty sure my uppity university would be demanding my degree back if they were made aware of this situation.
MC keeps teasing me with contractions. For the last handful of days, I’ve had some nasty, painful, back pain inducing contractions, usually a handful of minutes apart. Last night, in the car, I was having some really horrid pain that I could barely breathe through. I’ve not let myself believe that it was going anywhere, but start timing them, just in case.
And without fail, every night, they peter out on their own. Look here, kid. I’m tired. I’m ready to be done with pregnancy. I understand that means I’ll have to endure labor and delivery, neither of which sound pleasant, but it’s the price we pay to increase the number of cute children in the world. And I’m ok with it.
What I am NOT ok with are these continuous fake outs. Screaming pain is not something I’d choose to endure for fun. So, bring the pain, but get on the stick and be born already. Or, conversely, let me remain pain free until you are ready to be born.
I guess what I’m saying is, shit, or get off the pot. Commit, already!
I go to the gym before work. This means that I pack all my clothes the night before, as doing so at 4 am would lead to some rather unhappy fashion choices.
Last night, while packing my bag, I threw in one of the three pairs of pants I can still wear, a shirt I am just barely fitting into, a horribly uncomfortable pair of panties (seriously, Hanes. Some women have this thing called an “ass.” Please accommodate some booty without the front panel bunching and bulging. Thanks!), and just grabbed a bra off the top of the pile.
I got the gym this morning, worked out, had a shower and was getting dressed when I realized the bra I had packed? Hasn’t fit since before I got pregnant. It’s a full cup size and probably two band sizes too small. And the shirt I’d brought is very thin, therefore going without was not an option. So, I did my best to cram into the bra. I’m going to have welts all over my chest by the time I get home. Why do I even keep old, non-fitting clothing?
Of course, because I’m me, I don’t just keep my own retardedness to myself. I called Xtian as soon as I got to work to tell him how dumb I was. He made some sympathetic sounds and then said, “Why didn’t you just drive home and change before going to work?”
Um, because that would have made sense? Jebus. Now I’m doubly retarded, as the thought never even occurred to me. What is UP, college education? I’m pretty sure my uppity university would be demanding my degree back if they were made aware of this situation.
MC keeps teasing me with contractions. For the last handful of days, I’ve had some nasty, painful, back pain inducing contractions, usually a handful of minutes apart. Last night, in the car, I was having some really horrid pain that I could barely breathe through. I’ve not let myself believe that it was going anywhere, but start timing them, just in case.
And without fail, every night, they peter out on their own. Look here, kid. I’m tired. I’m ready to be done with pregnancy. I understand that means I’ll have to endure labor and delivery, neither of which sound pleasant, but it’s the price we pay to increase the number of cute children in the world. And I’m ok with it.
What I am NOT ok with are these continuous fake outs. Screaming pain is not something I’d choose to endure for fun. So, bring the pain, but get on the stick and be born already. Or, conversely, let me remain pain free until you are ready to be born.
I guess what I’m saying is, shit, or get off the pot. Commit, already!
Friday, November 9, 2007
Whatever and ever.
So, here we are. It’s Friday. About freakin’ time, is all I have to say about it. Since Monday is a holiday at my work, all of the coworkers I like have taken today off. I knew today was going to be boring, but wasn’t aware that my first order of business when arriving would be to BECOME COMPLETELY INFURIATED!
I can’t go into too many details, but there’s an issue with an employee I supervise, who is bored, agitated, and half of his job responsibilities have gone away. He’s not able to do other kinds of work, so after weeks/months of finding tasks to take up his time, we’d determined that updating his job description was in order. This did include a 5-hour/week change in his scheduled hours. Still, we were within all legal/contractual bounds.
A meeting was scheduled to finalize this and some other issues. And I walked in this morning to an email from my VP completely reneging on every change we’d agreed to. I mean, I knew she didn’t have a spine, and frankly, I was surprised at how far this was allowed to go. But, it’s still irritating to have her turn tail and run.
So, it’s official, every single time I’ve attempted to make a change to any aspect of this organization (from a letterhead design, to attempting a cooperative maternity leave plan) I’ve been shut down. Complete fucking waste of energy. So, I’m out. I no longer will try. I will fill my chair like a good houseplant, and do only the bare minimum expected from me. God, I love feeling absolutely useless!
In other news, this weekend is the baby shower! I’m so looking forward to my home being overrun with family and friends, giggling and being silly like we do. Then Xtian’s heading out of town, and my mama will be staying with me. Hurray for Mama Time!
My big girl kitty is a mess these days, so I finally made a vet appointment for her. She has nasty skin sores that I thought were just from overgrooming. Then I thought they were a reaction to something. But, they are getting worse, and she’s getting anti-social and hiding under the bed for most of the days. So, clearly, after making the appointment, I had to get myself all worked up convinced that the vet was going to put my kitty to sleep. Or, even worse, tell me that the treatment to fix her is going to cost $5,000 or we could just put her down, and leave me with that decision. Which would probably kill me.
She’s not that old, she’s only 5! Wah!
But then this morning, I’m back to “it’s nothing, and the vet is going to tell me she’s just a neurotic nutbag.” Who the hell knows?
Right, time to heat up my bagel and avoid my coworkers!
I can’t go into too many details, but there’s an issue with an employee I supervise, who is bored, agitated, and half of his job responsibilities have gone away. He’s not able to do other kinds of work, so after weeks/months of finding tasks to take up his time, we’d determined that updating his job description was in order. This did include a 5-hour/week change in his scheduled hours. Still, we were within all legal/contractual bounds.
A meeting was scheduled to finalize this and some other issues. And I walked in this morning to an email from my VP completely reneging on every change we’d agreed to. I mean, I knew she didn’t have a spine, and frankly, I was surprised at how far this was allowed to go. But, it’s still irritating to have her turn tail and run.
So, it’s official, every single time I’ve attempted to make a change to any aspect of this organization (from a letterhead design, to attempting a cooperative maternity leave plan) I’ve been shut down. Complete fucking waste of energy. So, I’m out. I no longer will try. I will fill my chair like a good houseplant, and do only the bare minimum expected from me. God, I love feeling absolutely useless!
In other news, this weekend is the baby shower! I’m so looking forward to my home being overrun with family and friends, giggling and being silly like we do. Then Xtian’s heading out of town, and my mama will be staying with me. Hurray for Mama Time!
My big girl kitty is a mess these days, so I finally made a vet appointment for her. She has nasty skin sores that I thought were just from overgrooming. Then I thought they were a reaction to something. But, they are getting worse, and she’s getting anti-social and hiding under the bed for most of the days. So, clearly, after making the appointment, I had to get myself all worked up convinced that the vet was going to put my kitty to sleep. Or, even worse, tell me that the treatment to fix her is going to cost $5,000 or we could just put her down, and leave me with that decision. Which would probably kill me.
She’s not that old, she’s only 5! Wah!
But then this morning, I’m back to “it’s nothing, and the vet is going to tell me she’s just a neurotic nutbag.” Who the hell knows?
Right, time to heat up my bagel and avoid my coworkers!
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
Go ahead, tell me my hair ain't luxurious when you know it is.
My body can’t see to decide if I’m sick or not. A terrible flu-like thing is circulating at work. Fevers, chills, weeks of wracking coughs, at least 3 of my coworkers have been taken out by it.
I desperately would like to avoid this illness, since I am not allowed to take my favorite meds these days (ah the sweet embrace of Nyquil! How I miss you!) and pregnant ladies tend to be sick for 3 times longer than non-pregnant ladies. Or at least, this is what WebMD tells me. (Speaking of WebMD, don’t ever go to it. Their symptom tracker always shows that I MIGHT have the rarest of rare diseases, and who am I to question WebMD?)
So, in an effort to avoid illness, I’ve been pounding more Vitamin C and supplements than are probably advisable. And so far, I’ve been doing ok. Then Sunday I woke up with a sore throat and a nasty cough. “Well,” I thought, “this is it. I’m finally sick. Time to hunker down, sip some tea and hide under the covers.”
Ah, but over the course of the day, sore throat and cough subsided. I awoke on Monday feeling, dare I say, chipper. “Ok, so I’m not sick. Fine, even better, not sick.”
BUT! Tuesday arrived with a low-grade fever, chills and general body aching hell. Of course, like a douche, I still went to work where I felt awful until I finally called it quits around noon. Ok, so sick. Got it, I’m sick now.
Nope. Today I’m fine. I woke up feeling fine, I’m still feeling fine.
What the fuck gives? One of the other, I don’t even care what it is anymore. Just make up your damned mind! This is ridiculous. Either let me wallow in my sickbed, or let me get on with it. Stupid body with its stupid immune system of inconsistency.
~~
I’m starving. All the time, every day, starving. But, I can only fit about a handful of food in my squished stomach. So this means, I pretty much need to be eating all day, every day. Pretty inconvenient, really. And also annoying, since I only have about 5 bites of chicken salad left, it’s delicious, but in no way will it fit in my belly. Stupid.
~~
My Mother In Law (you recall, the crazy one?) left a voicemail for Xtian last night. I will paraphrase it for you:
Umm, what? Since when does she acknowledge my existence, let alone my name? And what in the name of all things wretched would lead her to believe that I’d ever let a picture of me get sent her way? Dude, the crazy just keeps coming. And what the hell is a “dried up ol’ kid”? I don’t get that at all. It’s just weird.
But I guess I can tell my family that they have to stop calling me the incubator, since, I HAVE A NAME FINALLY! So, there!
Lord, help me if that woman decides to travel here to meet her grandkid. While I’d never begrudge her the chance to meet her only grandchild, that bitch isn’t setting foot in my home, or within a mile of me.
Luckily, the odds of her traveling (without someone else paying her way) are slim.
I desperately would like to avoid this illness, since I am not allowed to take my favorite meds these days (ah the sweet embrace of Nyquil! How I miss you!) and pregnant ladies tend to be sick for 3 times longer than non-pregnant ladies. Or at least, this is what WebMD tells me. (Speaking of WebMD, don’t ever go to it. Their symptom tracker always shows that I MIGHT have the rarest of rare diseases, and who am I to question WebMD?)
So, in an effort to avoid illness, I’ve been pounding more Vitamin C and supplements than are probably advisable. And so far, I’ve been doing ok. Then Sunday I woke up with a sore throat and a nasty cough. “Well,” I thought, “this is it. I’m finally sick. Time to hunker down, sip some tea and hide under the covers.”
Ah, but over the course of the day, sore throat and cough subsided. I awoke on Monday feeling, dare I say, chipper. “Ok, so I’m not sick. Fine, even better, not sick.”
BUT! Tuesday arrived with a low-grade fever, chills and general body aching hell. Of course, like a douche, I still went to work where I felt awful until I finally called it quits around noon. Ok, so sick. Got it, I’m sick now.
Nope. Today I’m fine. I woke up feeling fine, I’m still feeling fine.
What the fuck gives? One of the other, I don’t even care what it is anymore. Just make up your damned mind! This is ridiculous. Either let me wallow in my sickbed, or let me get on with it. Stupid body with its stupid immune system of inconsistency.
~~
I’m starving. All the time, every day, starving. But, I can only fit about a handful of food in my squished stomach. So this means, I pretty much need to be eating all day, every day. Pretty inconvenient, really. And also annoying, since I only have about 5 bites of chicken salad left, it’s delicious, but in no way will it fit in my belly. Stupid.
~~
My Mother In Law (you recall, the crazy one?) left a voicemail for Xtian last night. I will paraphrase it for you:
Xtian! Why haven’t you sent me pregnancy pictures of your wife, Coley? You dried up ol’ kid! Send me pictures!
Umm, what? Since when does she acknowledge my existence, let alone my name? And what in the name of all things wretched would lead her to believe that I’d ever let a picture of me get sent her way? Dude, the crazy just keeps coming. And what the hell is a “dried up ol’ kid”? I don’t get that at all. It’s just weird.
But I guess I can tell my family that they have to stop calling me the incubator, since, I HAVE A NAME FINALLY! So, there!
Lord, help me if that woman decides to travel here to meet her grandkid. While I’d never begrudge her the chance to meet her only grandchild, that bitch isn’t setting foot in my home, or within a mile of me.
Luckily, the odds of her traveling (without someone else paying her way) are slim.
Friday, September 14, 2007
Rambling begets rambling, with a side of complaining
This summary is not available. Please
click here to view the post.
Monday, August 27, 2007
Whoop that Trick.
I feel like ten tons of ass today. As though the third trimester (which officially began today) is welcoming me with a blinding headache, nausea, a racing heartbeat, lightheadedness and overall inability to function. Thanks! It’s a pleasure being here. Dear lord, if this lasts for another three months, I will die.
And I’m going to bitch about work for a minute here, if you all don’t mind.
In an attempt to be a good little worker bee who also happens to be a pregnant lady, I typed up a maternity leave proposal that sounded like a nice balance of time home to be with the new kiddo, and working to make money and still be a valued member of the damned “team”. Basically, I asked for 16 weeks at home, with the last 9 weeks working part time from home. Additionally, once I return to work full time, the option of working from home one day a week, to be determined by the company’s needs.
My supervisor looked it over, thought it sounded more than fair, and told me to put it forward to our Vice President.
In a candid conversation with my supervisor, the VP mentioned she doesn’t think it will fly. The reason? Our CEO has shown discomfort with employees telecommuting. Not that he’s here more than 4 hours a week. Not that he has any idea who I am or what job I do. Not that he has any inkling about the goings on of this office. Not that he reviewed my proposal in any way. My VP will not even present my proposal to the CEO. Because my VP is retiring soon (maybe another year or two) and is just trying to cruise on through. Why would she bother to go to bat for one of her employees? Why would she bother to try and make the office a more family friendly place? What the hell does she care? Her kids are grown.
So, instead, I will take every single minute of leave allotted to me by law (which will probably end up being at least 16 weeks, because I live in CA and our state laws are a little better than some), and refuse to communicate with the office during that time. I’m so fucking tired of companies talking about being family friendly employers, but having no policies that work for families. Fucking bullshit.
Oh, and while on maternity leave? I’ll be finding a job that isn’t full of asshats.
And I’m going to bitch about work for a minute here, if you all don’t mind.
In an attempt to be a good little worker bee who also happens to be a pregnant lady, I typed up a maternity leave proposal that sounded like a nice balance of time home to be with the new kiddo, and working to make money and still be a valued member of the damned “team”. Basically, I asked for 16 weeks at home, with the last 9 weeks working part time from home. Additionally, once I return to work full time, the option of working from home one day a week, to be determined by the company’s needs.
My supervisor looked it over, thought it sounded more than fair, and told me to put it forward to our Vice President.
In a candid conversation with my supervisor, the VP mentioned she doesn’t think it will fly. The reason? Our CEO has shown discomfort with employees telecommuting. Not that he’s here more than 4 hours a week. Not that he has any idea who I am or what job I do. Not that he has any inkling about the goings on of this office. Not that he reviewed my proposal in any way. My VP will not even present my proposal to the CEO. Because my VP is retiring soon (maybe another year or two) and is just trying to cruise on through. Why would she bother to go to bat for one of her employees? Why would she bother to try and make the office a more family friendly place? What the hell does she care? Her kids are grown.
So, instead, I will take every single minute of leave allotted to me by law (which will probably end up being at least 16 weeks, because I live in CA and our state laws are a little better than some), and refuse to communicate with the office during that time. I’m so fucking tired of companies talking about being family friendly employers, but having no policies that work for families. Fucking bullshit.
Oh, and while on maternity leave? I’ll be finding a job that isn’t full of asshats.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Of Fat Feet and Cruel Overlords
So, with the increasing heat and my forever expanding body my feet have been swelling. And I don’t mean a little puffiness. I mean, I officially have CANKLES! I wake up in the morning with slightly puffy feet, and by 9 am, we’re looking at Flintstones feet.
As every woman in the world can tell you, what are you supposed to do when you have water retention/swelling? Say it with me now, drink lots of water, and avoid salt like the plague! I’m kicking ass on the drinking water thing. But, the problem is salt.
Nothing tastes right anymore. Nothing except salt. I had a delightful, perfectly seasoned steak with orzo salad for dinner last night. At least, it used to taste perfect. Last night, each bite demanded another shake of the saltshaker. Thinking that was pretty gross, I was further disgusted to find myself thinking that the cookie dough I ate later (shut up, don’t you judge me!) needed more salt. Right now, I’m thinking about salting my granola bar. Seriously. So, my own body has decided that feet so swollen you can’t flex your ankle are the best thing ever. I need a nap.
~~
So, did you hear some states are trying to make it possible to sue your boss for being mean? http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2007/08/22/BUSARMLCQ.DTL
Reading that article immediately evoked memories of my last job in Milwaukee. It was a really small, web based company where the creator of the site also filled the roles of manager, HR, and small time coke head.
So, a quick email to my old coworker, and we ended up swapping stories. Some were so amazing, I have to share, but all names have been changed to protect the victims.
My personal annoyances with this boss were the standard being made to use my vacation time when I had to have some surgery on my foot, and providing a doctor’s note. Being shrieked at when I accidentally used the wrong link on our website my first day doing any web editing. The problem was fixed within 4 minutes, but that didn’t stop the 25-minute tirade, no exaggeration. Taking 5 sick days in 8 months, and being called into his office to explain myself, regardless of the fact no sick time policy had been violated.
This guy was like an abusive boyfriend. He’d abuse everyone one staff, verbally and publicly for a week, then when everyone was just getting to mutinous rage, he’d take everyone out for drinks. “Baby, you know I don’t like to hurt you. But you just make me so mad! Here, have some jewelry. I don’t know what I’d do if you ever left me…”
So, a couple of the stories that were relayed back to me are as follows:
“I went into his office in tears one morning apologizing for the short notice but my cousin had died in a car accident over the weekend and I would need to go to Michigan for a few days. He said he was sorry for my loss and then said it would not be a problem, but since my cousin was not an immediate family member I would have to use my vacation days. The bereavement policy only offered two days for an immediate family member.” (Please note: the bereavement policy that the boss himself wrote!)
“The IT guy, had a kid diagnosed with juvenile diabetes and had to go to a lot of appointments at Children's Hospital. The boss was disgusted and I believe expressed to another coworker ‘I don't know what the big deal is. It's JUST diabetes!’”
So, in honor of that crackpot of an asshole boss, I will open up the comments to those who wish to share the heinous actions of bosses/former bosses. Pseudonyms encouraged.
As every woman in the world can tell you, what are you supposed to do when you have water retention/swelling? Say it with me now, drink lots of water, and avoid salt like the plague! I’m kicking ass on the drinking water thing. But, the problem is salt.
Nothing tastes right anymore. Nothing except salt. I had a delightful, perfectly seasoned steak with orzo salad for dinner last night. At least, it used to taste perfect. Last night, each bite demanded another shake of the saltshaker. Thinking that was pretty gross, I was further disgusted to find myself thinking that the cookie dough I ate later (shut up, don’t you judge me!) needed more salt. Right now, I’m thinking about salting my granola bar. Seriously. So, my own body has decided that feet so swollen you can’t flex your ankle are the best thing ever. I need a nap.
~~
So, did you hear some states are trying to make it possible to sue your boss for being mean? http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2007/08/22/BUSARMLCQ.DTL
Reading that article immediately evoked memories of my last job in Milwaukee. It was a really small, web based company where the creator of the site also filled the roles of manager, HR, and small time coke head.
So, a quick email to my old coworker, and we ended up swapping stories. Some were so amazing, I have to share, but all names have been changed to protect the victims.
My personal annoyances with this boss were the standard being made to use my vacation time when I had to have some surgery on my foot, and providing a doctor’s note. Being shrieked at when I accidentally used the wrong link on our website my first day doing any web editing. The problem was fixed within 4 minutes, but that didn’t stop the 25-minute tirade, no exaggeration. Taking 5 sick days in 8 months, and being called into his office to explain myself, regardless of the fact no sick time policy had been violated.
This guy was like an abusive boyfriend. He’d abuse everyone one staff, verbally and publicly for a week, then when everyone was just getting to mutinous rage, he’d take everyone out for drinks. “Baby, you know I don’t like to hurt you. But you just make me so mad! Here, have some jewelry. I don’t know what I’d do if you ever left me…”
So, a couple of the stories that were relayed back to me are as follows:
“I went into his office in tears one morning apologizing for the short notice but my cousin had died in a car accident over the weekend and I would need to go to Michigan for a few days. He said he was sorry for my loss and then said it would not be a problem, but since my cousin was not an immediate family member I would have to use my vacation days. The bereavement policy only offered two days for an immediate family member.” (Please note: the bereavement policy that the boss himself wrote!)
“The IT guy, had a kid diagnosed with juvenile diabetes and had to go to a lot of appointments at Children's Hospital. The boss was disgusted and I believe expressed to another coworker ‘I don't know what the big deal is. It's JUST diabetes!’”
So, in honor of that crackpot of an asshole boss, I will open up the comments to those who wish to share the heinous actions of bosses/former bosses. Pseudonyms encouraged.
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
Just Disgusted.
Sterilized man is given asylum.
Ok, so we'll grant asylum to a man who was forced to be sterilized, but we won't grant it to 12-year old girls who are forcibly circumcised? (And by "circumcised" I think we've all seen enough to call it assault and mutilation). And Governor Schwarzenegger is planning to veto, AGAIN, a bill that was PASSED by state legislature allowing EVERYONE to marry? Nice. I'm so pleased to be an American and a Californian right about now.
PS. Not to say that the man mentioned in the story above shouldn't get asylum. He should. Absolutely. Anyone who has no say over their own genitalia, reproduction, or sexuality should certainly be granted asylum.
Ok, so we'll grant asylum to a man who was forced to be sterilized, but we won't grant it to 12-year old girls who are forcibly circumcised? (And by "circumcised" I think we've all seen enough to call it assault and mutilation). And Governor Schwarzenegger is planning to veto, AGAIN, a bill that was PASSED by state legislature allowing EVERYONE to marry? Nice. I'm so pleased to be an American and a Californian right about now.
PS. Not to say that the man mentioned in the story above shouldn't get asylum. He should. Absolutely. Anyone who has no say over their own genitalia, reproduction, or sexuality should certainly be granted asylum.
Monday, April 16, 2007
Only 4 more days until the weekend!
Friday at work was probably one of the most exhausting days I’ve ever had, without getting ANY work done. The reason: I was wrangling 5 teenagers all day. Aaron has been slacking off lately, regardless of my attempts to motivate him, and as a result, was so far behind on his work we had to bribe employees’ children to come in on Friday to help out.
Mostly these were nice kids who only complained hourly about WORKING, and “when are we getting paid anyway? How much are we getting paid? Are we done yet?” And I didn’t have to break up any fights, which was good. But kids are just tiresome. Especially 5 of them at once all within a year or two of age.
They were working in the lunchroom most of the day, so I had the two doors between us open so I could keep an ear out for them. One girl in particular NEVER STOPPED TALKING. The whole day, I don’t think she took a breath. About par for course on a 15-year-old, I know. But I almost lost my shit entirely when I heard this same girl whining to her mom later, “The other kids just kept TALKING! I couldn’t get them to shut up all day. I’m so tired of hearing other people’s voices.” I actually snorted from trying to hold in my laughter. Ah, teenagers. It’s always someone else’s shortcoming.
And at least I didn’t come out of the day wanting to be sterilized. And I think that makes it a rousing success.
~~~
My 21-year-old aunt (the one getting married) and her mother asked for my help in organizing the wedding planning. So on Saturday I drove with my step-grandmother in blinding rain to the wedding site. A mere 50 miles from my house. Oh, and to top it all off, as I was pulling onto the freeway, my step grandma (SG) mentioned, “I get panic attacks on freeways.” Oh, this is going to be AWESOME! Mostly she was fine and I could ignore her sobbing and whimpering, but then she begged me to slow down from the scorching speed of 45 MPH on the freeway, while other cars sped past us at 80 MPH. Of course this only served to terrify her more, so there were several tense minutes.
The wedding site is gorgeous and pretty neat. I was pleased with what I had to work with, and the visit was really successful in helping me plan better. On the way there and back I attempted to keep up some conversation with SG, mostly about the wedding. It was during this that she mentioned, “I don’t know anything about the groom’s family and I want to keep it that way.”
Oh, excellent! That’s the right attitude, absolutely. I turned to her and said, “Well you better get over that, because they are about to be YOUR family too.”
My best guess here is that SG blames the groom for my aunt getting knocked up. Yeah, because my aunt wasn’t party to the activities at all, right? She’s the innocent bystander in all this? Of course she is, and SG is perfectly sane. *ahem*
So, it’s kind of refreshing to see in-law issues from the other side and know that sometimes, MIL’s are just fucking nuts and there isn’t much you can do but ignore their crazy asses.
Wednesday, April 4, 2007
This job would be great, if it weren't for the damn customers
Work is unpleasant today. After the nonsense from yesterday, then voicing my concerns to my boss only to have him be COMPLETELY unsupportive, I’ve just decided to not interact with people, unless my job specifically requires it. I’m just not in an emotionally secure place, and it’s just safer for me to not speak with anyone.
I went to my boss yesterday to tell him that the “issue” of my friendship with Eric was a topic of discussion in HR, and to ask him to let me know if he knows or hears of anything on this wavelength. I told him I was concerned that I was being unfairly condemned for no wrong-doing and if nothing else would like to be forewarned if this is the case. I think he was trying to be helpful in an older-male-relative kind of way, but it came across all wrong to me.
Later he called me into his office to warn me about my behavior with Aaron (the developmentally disabled man I supervise as part of my job). I was really confused but my boss kept saying things like, “Since HRBitch (not her real name) is right across the hall, close the door or keep your voice down when talking to Aaron. I’d hate for her to think the way you talk to Aaron is mistreatment at all.”
Which is just weird. Here’s where my mind immediately went:
I’m not mean to Aaron. I’m nice and kind to him, I joke with him from time to time, but I make sure I’m firm and clear in my directions. I check in with him to make sure he’s supported. Why would this thought even occur to my boss, unless he thinks I’m mean or cruel to Aaron?
It just felt like an accusation on top of everything else. I had two allies at work: Eric and my boss. Well, I can’t even talk to Eric anymore, even while on break. And my boss pulled that shit with me, making me ridiculously uncomfortable with him. So, I’m all out of people I even moderately trust at work. It fucking irks me. So, I’m avoiding people like the plague.
You know, I mostly enjoy my job. I wish it was more challenging, but I feel good about what I do, and the product I’ve been putting out. Some things about it bother me, but since I had a couple of people I could roll my eyes with, that shit was easy to deal with.
Goddamn it! I’d just had a really good week at work too. I busted my ass, got a bunch of things done well before established deadlines, got some great praise from my VP and was feeling really good about this job. And now, I feel like I should get out of here. I’m sure I’m just emotionally overreacting, but damn!
Oh, and at the end of my talk with my boss, he decided to throw in, “VP is asking what hours you work again. Don’t worry, I’ll try to smooth things over.” Which, for those not working in an uptight office environment really means, “People at this office think you are shirking your duties, or are cutting out early all the time.” When people start asking you what hours you work, it’s because they think you aren’t working.
This same garbage went down at my old job. And I’m seriously tired of it. I’m here before 7:15 every morning. I leave around 4:15 every evening. When I get here, I’m the second car in the lot, when I leave half the cars are already gone, boss and VP included. So, excuse me? I’m putting my hours in, I’m getting my job done, and no one has anything negative to say about my work, so what the fuck?
I hate feeling like I’m being hamstringed. It makes a Coley pissed off. I want all this shit to just stop.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
