There ain’t no NoGoodDaddy like a pissed off NoGoodDaddy, ’cause a pissed off NoGoodDaddy don’t stop.
Why am I pissed off and blessing you folks with an update so soon after the last?
Let me tell you about my week (Specifically the latter half)
Wake up at 5:00AM
Go to RDU
Fly to EWR. It’s dark and rainy
Rent a car from National. End up with a crappy car because, apparently on Wednesdays, they don’t have any real cars on the lot.
Come to HealthCareRelatedCompany to work.
Instantly remember why I hate being here
* I can’t get a stable network connection
* The people I work with are insufferable asswipes
* I’m not at home
* I hate the people here
* I hate NJ
Spend the day arguing with people, both in the office and within HealthCareRelatedCompany about how to process work. Needless to say, it does not go well. I remain pissy and frustrated all day.
Talk with crew in PA and deal with them being pissy that I’m not there working on the projects at their site.
However, I did sleep well last night. I was asleep by 10 and only woke up every 2 hours all night. Usually, it’s more like every hour.
Come back to office
Get thrown off the network 6 times in an hour
Learn that the meeting I came all the way here to attend has been cancelled. And, to make this fun, it’s been rescheduled for the week of New Year’s (A week when I have NO intentions of leaving home. Unless, of course, Rutgers beats WVa this weekend and I find myself sleeping in a gutter in New Orleans at the Sugar Bowl.)
Continue to fight with the people here as well as the people from HealthCareRelatedCompany over procedures and workflows.
Take calls from PA. They know how pissy I am and are doing all they can to make me crazy
It’s good times.
So, it’s now several hours later and I’m not in a much better mood. I happen to thank Judd for my latest pissitude. Again…on location = no links. You all know who he is.
Anyhoo…this is my 10th week out of the past 11 where I’m not home. And why? Well…because. I guess. It’s what I do, or so it seems I do. In fact, I have no idea what it is that I do. Here in NJ, they call me the Stuff Getter Done-er. That’s what I do: I get shit done. But, to what fucking end? I did not sign up for this job to be on the road 100%. I was supposed to travel like once a month and spend the rest of the time at the home office.
Shmuppie got her “black band” today. And I missed it. What’s that mean? Well, my 4 1/2 year old pile of piss and vinegar is allowed to swim wherever the fuck she wants at the Y pool. No floatation help, no mommy or daddy watching her. Just swimming. The kid had to swim a lap of the pool using her “rowing arms” and “kicking feet” and putting her face in the water. Then, she had to tread water for 30 seconds. I’d bet a few of you fuckos can’t even do that. And, the best part…I didn’t know she could swim! Last I saw, some time back in August, she was pretending to not know how to swim because my mother had convinced her that she couldn’t. The kid can swim. And I fucking missed all of it.
I’m not happy. My boss is back in town next week (he’s on vacation this week) and he and I are going to talk. This is too much.
Know what else makes me unhappy? Not being able to write this thing. I have put in like 4 miserable entries over the past 2 months. I’m 100% unhappy about this. I used to enjoy writing here and actually thought I sometimes, not very often-like, made sense. Now, I sit on the shitter and stress about not being able to write. Yes, folks, I think about you while I shit. When do I write then? At night back at the hotel? All I want to do is sleep? On the weekend? Pshaw. All I want to do is hang with my girls. I want to take Shmuppie to the tennis courts to go play chase the tennis ball. I want to ball JewelrySlut. I’m home for like 3 full days, and spending any time at all here does not fit the plan.
Ugh. Now I’m whining. I need to get out of the office and go shopping or something. HealthCareRelatedCompany, for some unknown reason, mailed me a check for like $2300 yesterday. So, I have some money to burn on Christmas shopping. I’m praying to get an earlier flight tomorrow. There’s an 8:20 that’s looking awfully good right now. There are still a lot of empty seats on it and I’d like to get on it. Then, I’ll get home in the morning, say the flight was delayed, and not work at all. Fuck’em all.