It’s been a rough few weeks. The last trip to NJ/PA didn’t go very well. In fact, it was cut short by about 10 hours when poor JewelrySlut contracted 24-hour Ebola or something. From what I could gather, it involved a lot of shitting.
The trip just didn’t work out as planned. I was supposed to transition my work to my replacements. Seeing as there are no replacements lined up, there was no one for me to hand anything to. So, my workload just kinda fell to the floor, where several people looked at it, shrugged, and walked away.
The transition has just made me so tired. I want so badly to move on, but know that if things start getting screwed up at the old job I’ll be held responsible. And as much as I loathe the people from HealthCareRelatedCompany, they can’t be left without anyone to program their print jobs. It’s going to be a fun day today I think.
So, I got home and flipped the switch into thanksgiving mode. ChurchBomber and MerlotMan flew down last Wednesday for the 5-day celebration of all things turkey and binge drinking.
I’m just stuck in a rut lately. I come up with witty things to write, but then I get off the toilet and forget what they were. Maybe I should bring the laptop to the shitter. I tend to create a lot of things while in there.
Until then, I pray this is indeed my last day on the job. I also pray that my arms and legs don’t fall off when I go to the Y tonight. It could get ugly. Between travel and the holidays, I haven’t had a full week’s worth of exercise since early November. You need to work at it to look as beaten down as I do lately.
But, I hope to get my mojo back and get back to writing stuff that nobody reads. The holidays are upon us and I need to spread some anti-Christian blather and poke fun of the local yokels. We also need to come up with some gifts for the kids. We’re plum out of ideas.
Work is making me sad and limiting my ability to write shitty entries. I’m terrified that they’re going to prevent me from taking my new job on Dec 1. There’s been absolutely no work done to get my replacement up to speed (despite my many attempts). Hell, HealthcareRelatedCompany doesn’t even know yet. The Dragon Lady’s not telling them.
I have a bad feeling about all of this.
I hope it works out because, otherwise, I’m gonna lose it soon
It’s after 5 and we’re prepping for dinner.
Shmuppie is peeling carrots. I’m cutting them up and preparing them for a quick boil and glaze. I’m test driving glazed carrots on her tonight. I won’t touvh them, but she’s bound to like them.
S: This one is small.
S: Yea…look at it. It’s small and funny looking
JS: Well…that’s OK
S: But look at it
JS: Really, it’s OK. Small things can go a thorough job.
NGD: We stopped talking abut the carrot a while ago, didn’t we?
And so it goes…the day Shmuppie becomes fully sentient, we’re really in trouble. Until then, let the innuendos fly.
(We were talking about the penis there)
It’s been busy. I’ll have to write about the trip to Charlotte. I’ll have to write about the fridge installation, the broken ceiling fan, me dangling off a countertop while I tried to repair the water line into the fridge.
But…I’m too excited about my new computer that work is sending me. It seems the division I’m going to gets to use computers that work! Fuck you, Dell!
Hold out one of your hands, palm up.
Here’s what I learned about that hand.
“I know where all the middle fingers are.”
“Oh? Do tell”
The pinky finger is the middle finger in China
The ring finger is the middle finger in France
The one in the middle is “ours”
The index finger is the middle finger in Mexico
The thump is the middle finger in Italy.
Now, when I tried to explain that the finger in the middle is always the middle finger, she disagreed. I also tried to explain that , while I’m not fluent in Italian, I know how to curse and that the thumb is not the “middle finger”.
I had forgotten the utter bullshit that 7 year olds babble about in school. I can only imagine what I was convinced of back then.
Though…I need to learn about the Gay Hand. There’s a signal apparently. Theough…we’re unsure what gay means…but there’s a hand signal for it.