Monday, July 30, 2007

Woah there people! Could you cut down on the commenting just a little bit? I mean, you're going to crash the blogger server there!


Glad I don't own a gun/work in a post office

I fulfilled my civic duty this weekend by consuming mass quantities of quinine as to avoid picking up and then spreading malaria amongst the masses. I also made sure the stimulate the economy by purchasing ridiculously overpriced spirits mixed in with said quinine. Well, I didn't actually pay for one damn thing myself but someone did and overall I believe I am the model American right now.

More on that later.

I am too fucking pissed right now to see straight. At my job they have already started a rumor that I don't have another job to go to, that I was doing a shitty job all along and then one of the fucking C bitch whore motherfucking piece of shit slut managers made a lovely comment about how they wouldn't be getting much of anything out of me this week.



I worked my ASS off for you ungrateful motherfuckers for THREE FUCKING YEARS and I have been busting my ass this weekend (Yes, I worked BOTH DAYS) to ensure that everything I have to do gets fucking done before I leave. I have been nothing but mature and gracious and kind about leaving and have gone out of my way to be friendly, accommodating and nice.

I know I have to take the high road but seriously? So Fucking ready to walk the fucking hell out of this place right now. Too bad I am too broke to do it. Damnit. Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck.

Am I doing the right thing by leaving here with my head held high? I'm sorry, but I'm human, and the thought of continuing to bust my ass for this place, even if it is only another week, is really getting me down. At this point I can hardly see the reason to do anything; If I work my ass off, as I've pointed out to you all before, it won't make a lick of difference because those motherfuckers won't give one ounce of credit for what I did nor will they use any of it. If I don't do anything I am fulfilling their prophecy. FUCK! I am so happy to be getting out of here. I want so bad to walk right out, right now, and never come back. But I can't, right? Aren't I supposed to be mature about this?

Am I? It is a small enough town that I shouldn't go burning bridges, right? I need to know that I am doing the right thing by not packing up my bags and walking right out the fucking door right now, because I'm just not sure.

Friday, July 27, 2007


I really shouldn't be spending my time posting, much less doing anything other than rushing around like a speed addicted overachiever trying to get things in order during the one last week I have at work but I can't help it; I feel a responsibility to try to get things put in order before I go but I also feel a responsibility to over share my boring life with the blogosphere.

And let's face it, after my last day as a "Great Job Title Supervisor Person" at *Financial Institution* these fuckheads will never even crack open the binders and files I have worked diligently to create for them to help them after I am gone, no, they will be assholes and act like I left them high and dry and they will complain that they can't do their job because there is something I didn't do for them before I left and oh gob how put out can they be? As stated, they are fuckheads. You and I and every soul on the damn internets knows that even though I have laid out a perfect timeline schedule for the ATM install I won't be here to do (oh GOD that is so wonderful to say) that those fucktards will still manage to jack it up. Big time. It is actually a pathetic act in futility to do all of the stuff I am doing when I know damn well it will never be touched, used, or looked at, but I can't not do it. I just can't.

Just like I cannot not post. Man, my english skills sure have declined since working at this place, isn't that like a triple negative? I don't think they even let you do that in other languages.

Anywho the reason I am posting is to mention that since declaring my intention to date the universe has decided to call a moratorium on people asking me out. The only date offer I have received recently involves once again the guy who works with my ex. He tried about two months ago to ask me out and I just didn't call him back. If I wind up calling back someone I don't want to go out with I will find myself, in three months time, engaged to them and trying to figure out how to call off the wedding. I don't want to have a few kids with this guy before I am forced to just smother him to death in his sleep and dispose of his body in the Nevada desert, hence, I didn't initiate any contact with him at all. Naturally he took this to mean that he should call again in two months and leave me a ten minute long message about getting together this weekend for sushi. Sometimes guys can be weird, even if I tell them that I would rather copulate with a rabies infested baboon they still take it as a sign that they have a chance.

I plan to not call him back, again. I would solicit for suggestions but there are only two options: explain nicely that I am not interested and wind up trying to shake this guy for the rest of my life or just not call him back. He seems perfectly nice but there is no way, on a hot or cold day in hell, that I will date a colleague of my ex. That is just asking for trouble.

In between leaving the current job, taking a wee bit of time off to spend with family and starting my new job I don't even really have time for dating. Which, actually, is a silly thing to say because who can't make time to eat lobster and take moonlit walks on the beach? I mean, isn't that how dating works these days? eHarmony, in a fit of desperation to get me to sign up, has now offered me three months for the price of one, which means I would pay sixty bucks for ninety days of meetings with socially awkward shut ins and domestic abusers. Sweet. I'm almost considering doing it just to kick start my memoir titled "Holy Hell Internet Dating is the Scourge of Existence."

In the meantime I have my own little to-do list to finish before I leave.
1. Write thank you cards for all my co-workers
2. Find small thoughtful gifts for special co-workers
3. Take picture of my office/desk space (yes, am a dork, want to remember the
4. Find out which kinda co-worker someone wanted to set me up with once and accept a date with them JUST SO I FINALLY HAVE A DATE TO WRITE ABOUT for you guys, because, really, I am nothing if not a giver. Plus there is one kinda cute guy and I would maybe consider it now especially since I won't have to see him every day and it would be a great starter date.

That is it for now, other than I may be more than a little hurt that no one, not one person, asked me to guest post while they are at Blogher. Not one! Is it my use of the terms fuckhead, asshole, fucktard, monkeyfucker and bastard? Is it? I'm feeling kinda rejected here. Just know that if I had been asked it would have been the best post ever! Ever! But now you will never know because I hate all of you. Hate. Enjoy your stupid conference and see if I ever comment again fuck-bastard-tards.

Off to run reports now.

Wednesday, July 25, 2007


I have enough energy to go to the gym after a long day and actually enjoy it.

I have managed to stay up late, not pass out the second I get home, and even get to see a bit of nightime TV talk shows before I hit the sack.

I have energy.

I am happy.

I feel excited and content.

All these things for the first time in three years.


No exageration.

Did I mention I quit my job?

Yeah, that might have helped.

More on that later, after I put in my ridiculously over-booked two weeks and then a week vacation and then start my new job.

My new job.

Where the people seem really nice.

And they like me.

They really like me.

They like me so much that they worked hard to get me.

The pay is not great, only a dollar more an hour than I make now, but you know what? I haven't felt this good in years. I feel free. And safe. And not like doom is lurking around every corner. I can now sleep knowing that the company cell will not wake me up at 11pm, or 5am. Plus I get to work only 40 hours a week. You hear that? ONLY 40. They will not let me work more.

I am so relieved. And tired. But happy.

I'm not looking forward to the next two weeks but I am looking forward to starting a new chapter in my life.

It is about damn time.

Thank you for the good vibes. I believe I can actually feel them. :)

Monday, July 23, 2007

*fingers crossed*

Big things are afoot people, hence, I shall likely be missing in action for a few days. All I can say is hold your breath and pray for me! Send good vibes my way! I promise to update as soon as I can.

Wednesday, July 18, 2007

So, in pursuit of punching up this blog and making things interesting (you know I do it all for you, internets) I decided to check out some online dating sites. I perused a bit and decided that I have no interest in baptist singles dot com, Match dot com or the local hook up site because they seem a bit seedy (sorry baptists, just keeping it real here). Of the horrid online dating sites at least eHarmony puts all kinds of time and effort into their marketing to make themselves appear a bit more genuine. I have already taken the eHarmony million question quiz, a long time ago, when I had literally run out of other internet quizzes to take, and they had REJECTED me. Bastards. Too bad they are the only online dating site that appears even remotely above board.

Aside from a desire for blog fodder I'm bored; and boring, as stated in this post below (have you left your nice thing yet?). Not only am I going to give the dating thing a go but I am also trying to not post about work as much; I need content, and what better way to speed things up than with the veritable smorgasbord of love that e-dating supposedly provides?

Lo and behold when I answered the slew of totally indeterminate personal questions this time around eHarmony somehow deemed me acceptable. I have taken a slew of personality tests for jobs lately and perhaps I was in the mindset to make things work. I love answering questions like "Have you ever shown up to work high on crack cocaine?" (This was indeed a real question on a real job application) because it gives me fodder to think about for days. First, who the hell would answer this with a positive? Second, why just crack cocaine? Is heroine okay? Should I write that one time I freebased meth right before my shift? Is it only the crack cocaine you are worried about or is cool if I bring in some of those amazonian tree frogs in to lick during my breaks? Sure, I take hits of LSD daily, but I never touch crack, that shit is just whack.

The eHarmony test is pretty much the same as the personality profiling tests that they now administer for every job in the Northern Hemisphere: I don't hear voices that aren't there. I don't think about suicide on a daily basis. I don't cut myself, have any sexual obsessions (save a young Robert Redford, but really, can that be called obsession?) and even as craptastic as my life is I am still pretty grateful to have it. I don't know if I was just in my test taking groove and that is why I passed the eHarmony slew of nonsensical questions this time and failed it before, but I passed, and that is all that matters.

Within a matter of moments eHarmony had given me five potential matches! Five! I quickly read their profiles and the generic answers they gave to the generic questions and then went on to more important business, being that my lunch hour had ended. By today eHarmony had flooded my email inbox with twelve new potential soul mates and several of them have even indicated an interest in meeting me, even though I have posted no picture. Being the good sport that I am I logged in again and filled out answers to the silly questions that were posed to me by the gentlemen that showed interest and hit submit. Small problem, I forgot that you have to pay for this crap.

I'm sorry, pay? I do not understand. This is virtually a Myspace knockoff that just asks a great deal more questions that can easily be lied about. The only thing differentiating eHarmony from the Craigslist random hook up page is that you have to suffer through three or four dates before you can ask the person to video tape you making love to a bologna sandwich. Why on earth would I pay for this? To make things even more ridiculous I looked at the price list. Go google it and come back to me.

It's cool, I'll wait.

Yikes! Sixty bucks for one month!?! The hell! If I sign up for a full year the price drops to roughly twenty bucks a month, or $250.00 a year. Let me reiterate: You. Must. Be. Freaking. Kidding. Me. I could use that twenty a month and go sit in a bar alone. I would likely wind up with the same quality of dates, if not a much larger quantity, and my hard earned money would be spent on something useful, such as vodka tonics, as opposed to a stupid dating site. My one twenty dollar splurge a month is Netflix and with that I know exactly what I am getting and when I am getting it. Could eHarmony, with all their in depth personality probing quizzes, even come close to the same guarantee from Netflix? I think not. I can't afford the name brand top ramen much less a stupid dating site. Pay to have creeps I don't know take me to secluded places alone? Great! Let me give you my account number so you can direct debit the money!

I'm tempted to doll myself up, find some cardboard and a black marker, and stand on the corner of an intersection holding a sign that says "eHarmony is way too expensive-email me!" smiling during rush hour. Why the hell not? It is damn close to the same thing, it doesn't cost a dime, and it would get me out of the house. I think this is brilliant. So long as I don't do it in the part of town frequented by prostitutes I think I'll be fine.

It is too bad that I'll never get to know Kevin, the 27 year old *attorney* (bullshit) who values romance and emotional intimacy above everything, or Larry, the 30 something who couldn't spell the word "financial" correctly in his profile to describe his career. This is the sort of site that would probably profit well from learning what nightclubs have known for years: Guys pay, women get in free. I'm not saying it is a fair world, or that I wouldn't like it to be, I am just saying that as long as I make far less money than guys do then I'm not paying to meet up with a bunch of those that couldn't get dates in real life.

I really do want to start dating and sharing my stories with the internet, I just think I am going to have to do it the old fashioned way; wait for someone to ask me out in person.

If you need me I will be at the gym pretending I don't know how to use the weights, dressed in a skirt at the local farmer's market, eating lunch alone with perfume on and getting myself a drink after work at any number of local bars. I'll be holding an unlit cigarette while leaning against a piano, standing next to my car on the side of the road with my hood popped open, struggling with some heavy objects on a set of stairs and pretending to be lost in the automotive parts section of a store. I'll be in heels at Home Depot, fishnets at a sports bar and standing next to a roulette table wearing a very low cut gown. Hmmmm. Maybe the eHarmony thing isn't so bad after all. Do you suppose I could find someone to pay the monthly fee for me?

Tuesday, July 17, 2007

Trying to be upbeat when all I want to do is Smash! Break! Kill!

Oh internet. All I want to do is be witty and charming and adorable for you today. All I want to do is tap into whatever that inane little river of nonsense is inside of me and chat merrilly away about whatever crap floats into my head.

I can't.

I'm sorry.

The river is all dried up.

As the sun burns hot and red through the window over my desk, filtered by more clouds of thick, choking, brown ash and dust from yet another fire, I am feeling quite parched. So parched, in fact, that I don't even have it in me to take this river analogy anywhere.

I really don't want to write about work because what more is there to say? You know I work for the financial institution that satan himself uses. You know that I am surrounded by people who are trying to slowly kill me in the most excrutiating way possible. You know that I am actively pursuing a new position that pays more than poverty level wages yet the inhuman effort I have put forth yields me with nothing.

You know about my love life. You know about my diet. You know about my hatred of tags on clothing, love of nacho cheese and you have witnessed my mad paint rendering skillz. You are likely bored out of your mind right now.

Me too.

Therefore tell me something nice about yourself. Anything nice. The world, obviously, needs some more nice and I am not contributing to it. So I will start: I always use my turn signal while driving.

You're next.

Monday, July 16, 2007

What my job rejection should really say

Dear Applicant,

We have never enjoyed dicking around with a person’s mental, financial and emotional stability as much as yours. That being said, it needs to stop. When we first came up the idea to just stop doing our jobs and instead focus our attention on fucking around with people we could not have possibly anticipated such an easy, albeit diligent, candidate as yourself.

We figured once people started catching wind of the fact that our office was not actually in the business of hiring people anymore; just messing with them, that eventually our fun would be short lived and turn into a quiet and permanent vacation from work. If our superiors ever wondered at our lack of ability to fill open job positions we would be able to back it up with the gaping lack of qualified, or indeed, any, applicants as we would have driven them away with our flagrant lack of professionalism coupled only with our thinly-masked sadistic “hiring” requirements.

We knew a few of the tougher candidates would stick it out for awhile. We know that the job market is currently a bitch and that a Master’s and twelve bucks will get you a cup of coffee at nationally recognized coffee chain. We guesstimated that only the most desperate of job seekers would make it about halfway through our ridiculous gauntlet of an application, testing and interviewing process, the rest deciding to move back in with their parents or get a job working retail. In our evil hearts we relish the though of sending hard working folks with families to feed and bills to pay to the moors of big box chain stores.

We practically get high reading the pathetic resume’s and CVs, deleting the online applications and shredding the paper ones, working ourselves into a frenzied euphoria that actually makes us come to work on an almost semi-regular basis, and this is just for the regular folks. Not the ones, the few, like you, who keep naively coming back for more. We’re not sure what would motivate a person to complete a daunting, two hour online application and then re-submit supplemental data no less than three times at our inane request. We’re also not sure what kind of person would wait patiently to hear back from us for over two months, even after politely calling and being “accidentally disconnected,” twice!

The dedication you demonstrated in showing up to a cock and bull standardized state test during the regular work week should be praised, especially since you stayed and took the test even though there were clearly over thirty other applicants taking the test for one piddly job opening. People with your sort of perseverance are the kind of people we imagine make good job candidates; if we weren’t more convinced that you are a glutton for punishment.

Surely, we thought, after we try to make you interview in person three times with three different sets of people from three unrelated departments, again, all during the regular work week, we imagined that we would break your spirit in no time. We won’t lie and say that at this point you were getting to be rather vexing. Many of those other fools who showed up to the standardized state test simply walked out when faced by both the daunting odds and the futility of it all; but not you. No. You cheerfully showed up to all three interviews like a champ. Toward the end there we were even scrambling for people for you to interview with. Do you know how hard it is to coordinate several people each from different departments and keep them totally in the dark as to their purpose? We couldn’t very well have them know why they were interviewing you, no, that would have taken away some of our fun. Unfortunately even after you likely realized that your interviewees had no idea who you were and what you were doing there you continued to pursue the job. You wrote thank you letters. You followed up.

People like you have an illness, and honestly, we were starting to get pissed. You were creating far more work for us than had we actually just hired someone and we couldn’t have that. Your spirit, it seemed, needed to be irrevocably broken. We didn’t even give us pause for a moment to email you a curt form letter stating that the funding had been re-evaluated and the recruitment for the job you had applied for was being pushed out three months. We were on the brink or orgasm when we emailed you again, a month later, to say that there had been good news and the recruitment had been moved up a month. We were in a near nirvana state when we emailed you only a few weeks later to say that the recruitment had been moved up to that very month! By the time we had strung you miserably along for months we were taking bets in the suicide pool when we sent out the final, cold, short letter that the recruitment had in fact been cancelled due to an issue with funding. We didn’t even apologize. We combed the obituaries for days.

Much to our chagrin we never did catch your name in the papers, but imagine our surprise when, only a month later, you applied for another open position with us! Yikes! This is not a good surprise. You kinda scare us. We have taken to walking in groups out to our cars at night. At first it was all kinds of fun to mess with you. Now we don’t even enjoy it anymore. Sure, we fired off that half assed request for clarification on additional questions one and two on the application. We even made sure to send the email at 4:17 pm and require that you have your answers in by 5:00 pm that very day.

We are requesting that you stop this immediately. Whereas you certainly rank as our favorite, and most pathetic, applicant of all time we simply don’t have the energy or creativity to go through this whole thing again. The first go around was more than enough fodder for even our most frenzied of daydreams. You made it both infinitely easy to torture you yet also created far too much work for us. We have decided to find some permanent fault in your most recent application and black ball you from ever applying again. Please don’t make us remove you from the top of our favorite list just by being the idiot you so clearly are.

We don’t want you.

We don’t want anyone, obviously, that is how the system is set up.

Do not apply ever again, we will see to it that it will be the last thing you ever do.

Thank you for your interest in our company, we are sorry, you are not what we are looking for at this time. Please note that we keep all our applications on file for a year and if any suitable position comes up we will contact you. (Seriously though, we won’t. Go away, now.)


Evil Human Resources Department
Large Employer
Crap Town, USA
I just really, really, really need a hug.

Right now.

Maybe I should post on Craigslist.


I can only imagine the outcome of that one...

Friday, July 13, 2007

DUDE, I get the hint

According the comments on this humiliating post there is nothing wrong with an irrational seven year pining for someone nearly three times my age and married with grandkids, no, the problem is that I am not dating.

Some people practically berated me, calling me a lonely actor hating workaholic whore. Or something. I need to re-read that comment. Other people are far more trusting than me and think that casual dating doesn't involve promises or expectations. This gentleman was surprisingly candid and sweet. At first this gal said go for it but then she noticed that he is married and retracted her statement in another comment. This person commented again though I really can't recall what she said as I was too busy cowering in fear about her first comment where, and I am paraphrasing here, she called me a fat ugly pathetic loser and told me she is surprised that anyone has ever shown interest in me and I should just jump off a bridge to make the world a better place. Dude! Why is the internet so full of haters? Finally, this intimidating guy tried to scare the stupid crush out of me and it almost worked too, except it is hard to take a guy who works his balls into every post he writes seriously.

The overall impression I got (Sally, you know I'm just messing with you) is that I should be dating. Now. Ten minutes ago! Get thee out and get a free meal! Then tell the internet about it! So that the internet can be entertained! Because the majority of the comments came from people who are happily married! FINE. Just for you, because I cave to peer pressure, I'll make it my goal to go out on at least one date in the next two weeks. You happy? You, Maya, who wants to see me suffer? And you, Hollowquirrel, who wants me to have to crawl out a bathroom window in a restaurant to escape the company of a crazy man? FINE FINE FINE.

I promise that I'll go out with the next guy that asks me. So long as he doesn't work with my ex, isn't married, and has never been in jail. Well, not to jail for something really bad. If he went to jail for a peaceful protest or something that is okay. Actually, if one of the commenters would volunteer to do background checks on any guy I decide is okay for a first date then that would be cool. Just not Sally, I think she has it out for me.

A coworker just expressed serious interest in a date about thirty seconds ago. Buah hah hahhhhhhh I love how my life rolls. Sorry though, I have to add no coworkers to my qualifications, it just wouldn't be prudent.

Wednesday, July 11, 2007

Just another person struck by impossible, probably not unrequited, geriatric love.

Okay people. I need to not think about, write about or talk about work. I have already worked 25 hours this week and it isn't even midweek yet. So FINE. Fine then I will tell the internets all about my stupid hang ups when it comes to my love life. Keep in mind that I've dated and had several long term relationships. My last serious relationship was with a doctor and lasted over two years. He was a bastard, but still. In the last month I've turned down an actor, an attorney and a member of the gang task force down for dates (there was something very wrong with each of them but still! dates! oh! and there was that doctor that asked me out too but he works with the doctor I broke up with so it would have been weird) (what, I'm cute okay? even with some extra weight). Just keep my normalness and ability to have reasonable relationships in mind when you read the following.

I'm just all a flutter and retarded today because the gentleman I have been in love with since I was, oh, 18, wrote me a charming and adorable email in which he says "I love you" right at the beginning. Granted, it is promptly followed by "young lady" so it takes the edge right off but I'm still uflutter; I can't help it.

I wish I could help it. I have tried, unsuccessfully, for literally years to stop liking him so damn much. To not have the saliva drain out of my mouth and my legs give way whenever I saw him walking. I even tried to focus on his bad characteristics, and there are many, but to no avail. Hell, I even stopped talking with him for over a year.

But the charm.

And the wit.

And the three piece suits.

And the expensive cologne.

And the thoughtful gifts he has given me. The ways he has helped me. The nice things he does.


I'm clearly not over this.

Nothing would ever, ever happen. I guarantee it. Even if he were interested, which I cannot confirm nor deny that he ever has been, it would absolutely be out of the question. As much in love as I am with this person there is no way, ever, not at all, that I would attempt any kind of relationship.

He is married.

He has been married for longer than I have been alive.

His kids are older than me.

His kids' kids are half my age.

Want to know what makes me even weirder?

He is in his early 60s.

Yeah, um. I obviously have issues.

Huge issues.

I date. Not successfully, per se, but I do. I've dated talented, successful, fucked up, selfish, handsome, worthlesscocksuckingpricks and had several long term relationships. It doesn't matter. It always goes back to him.

I just don't understand. Even if he were single and 20 or 30 years younger I doubt if he'd be the right person for me. He has a weakness of character that drives me insane. I am certain that I have just idealized him into some unreachable podium perched persona. Part of the appeal may be that I never get to actually date him therefore there is no risk of a failed relationship; no reality of making interaction between two separate entities work. So if this were true and I knew it why can't I make it go away? Why does an email do more for me than a dozen romantic dinners?

Technically he is a dear friend and nothing more and I would never truly want it to be anymore, so...

Why do I get goosebumps when he writes me bigger than any I've ever gotten from any other guy?

Why do I hold him as the male prototype to live up to in the back of my mind?

Why am I a quarter of a century old and still acting like a lovestruck teeney bopper?

And when will it ever go away?

Why can't I stop being in love with him and move on?

What is wrong with me?

And why do I keep flipping back and forth between this post and his email and swoon?




I'm an adult now. I have been for years. Would someone please tell this stupid, irrational, insane love to GO AWAY since it won't listen to me?

*tee* he says he loves me.


Tuesday, July 10, 2007

I really, really hate people.

Yesterday my "boss" thought it would be appropriate to bring her 13 year old son to work with her while we are being audited by two entities and have him hang out in my office half the day. The reason? "Oh,he has a dentist appointment mid morning", the definition of mid morning being 11:40 am. I'm sorry, when did the work place become your personal stomping grounds lady? Now, if this were a one time thing and she were a good, dependable worker it wouldn't be problem. But she is a liar. She loses paperwork. She never gets anything done. She has tried to take credit for my work and any other person's work as an excuse for why her work is never done. This is the second time in two weeks that she has brought one or more of her kids to work, the last time showing up two hours late because the CEO and VP weren't here with both teenaged kids in tow where she proceeded to take a two hour lunch and leave an hour early.

Needless to say my skull nearly exploded.

Do I work in a fucking paralell universe or is all business rife with this kind of bullshit?

Cross your fingers people. I know any different job I ever get will be just as full of crap as this one but I'd like to be making a livable wage to put up with it.


Monday, July 9, 2007

Riddle me this:

Why is it that to get a job one must first have a job? And to interview for a new job you have to lie your way out of your current job? What are employers really thinking here?

They know I work a M-F, 9-5 job yet they want me to test, phone interview and in-person interview three times during the regular work week in order to be considered for the new job. What? Seriously? If I don’t have a current full time job when I apply then I am pretty much rejected immediately but if I do have a current full time job you expect me to lie to my employer and take ridiculous amounts of time off in order to run the retarded gauntlet of crap that you have deemed necessary to qualify for a job where my main responsibility would be FILING.

What are the potential new employers even thinking when they make me miss work more than three times to interview for their job? Doesn’t it in turn make me look bad to the potential new employers that I am leaving my current job in the lurch to interview ad nauseum for them? Is this a secret hidden test, like, don’t hire the one who actually shows up to all our stupid little tests because that means that she is ducking out of her current job?

I just don’t get it. They know I have a job. They even know that, on pain of death, I have told them to not contact said job EVER to let them know that I am looking elsewhere. If I were their employee would they want me to have three “doctor” appointments in one week? And “lock my keys in the car” the next? “Lose my cell phone, have a power outage, oversleep, break out in hives, rescue a kitten and have to fill many prescriptions” in less than a month? Interviewing for new jobs makes me the most unprofessional person on earth.

The system is ridiculous. I need a job to get a job:: I need time off from my first job to interview for new jobs:: I have to lie to my current job and put my employment in jeopardy in hopes of finding a new job:: I have to sneak around like a criminal to interview and apply for a new job yet I am supposed to be trustworthy and upstanding in order to be considered for a new job. How do people do this?

Batman, my brain hurts.

Friday, July 6, 2007

How bad would it look on my resume if I went from my current *very professional title* yet incredibly low paying job to being an administrative assistant (secretary) with better pay? What would this do to my professional career?

And does it even freaking matter anymore? I mean, I just yelled at one of my co-workers and basically told another one that they are an incompetant ass.

I should have stayed home today.

Thursday, July 5, 2007

No real post here, just be on your way, come back tomorrow

So I am trying to write about the ten year high school class reunion I went to for the class a couple years above me two weeks ago which was followed by the fire that burned down my childhood which was followed by the road trip to San Diego which was followed by world's most selfish dumb whore of a bride's wedding drama which was followed by coming back to my crappy job and frankly? It just isn't happening. I've got a few posts all started and waiting but I'm not sure what I want to say yet. I'm not even sure I know what day it is. It has been such a rush and crunch and honestly? I just feel like rambling for a bit. My brain needs to be dusted.

I'm back on my heavy duty diet where I eat fruit, veggies, yogurt and fiber rich cereal with non fat milk everyday. 1100 calories! Yay! Woo! Today I'm even adding two hard boiled eggs. I'm not hating this diet quite so much this time around but give me a week and we will see. I'll be bitching about my need for a breakfast burrito before you can say "welcome back to fatville Eris".

I'm working out on a regular basis too, but today I am not looking forward to the cross town freeway drive to the gym in 109 degree weather with no air conditioning. Did I say 109 degrees? With no air conditioning in my car? That's right bitches, sucks to be me. I don't know what this converts to in Celsius but I am fairly confident that it is one million degrees.

I planned on doing all my laundry yesterday and making all my healthy meals and shredding all my papers. What did I do instead? Sleep. All. Day. Long. I am amazing. I can sleep for literally days if I have a water bottle next to my bed. I imagine that this is not a healthy trait that I've developed over the years but it felt nice. Now I have to go home to a mountain of laundry that has engulfed my living room and I'm going to be upset but past Eris can't be responsible for what present Eris has to deal with, she is flaky like that. Bitch.

I thought the people in San Diego were supposed to be like a hybrid race for the super hot, um, was I in the wrong places? I was all over that damn city and I didn't see ANY uber hot people. As a matter of fact the quality of beach bodies was such that my self esteem has been boosted 1000%. By the end of the vacation my friends had to pry the thong bikini swimsuit out of my hands because my level of delusion had reached epic proportions. Seriously, I looked AMAZING compared to those people. Even with the big bruise I had on my left thigh the size of my fist. I may have to post pictures here. That is, until I actually see the pictures, start sobbing, and retreat into hiding in my closet. We shall see.

A breakfast burrito sounds like heaven now.


Could y'all please find some handsome, wonderful, caring man to love me even if I stay 15 pounds overweight? That would be great.

Thank you.

Tuesday, July 3, 2007

It's like I never left

I'm not sure if what I had could be called a "Vacation."

Technically I was gone from work for a week. Technically I wasn't in the office, but, that didn't stop the barrage of phone calls and emails that I got. Or the three hour conference call I had to take on Sunday.

It also didn't help that my home town was on fucking FIRE and my parents were on standby evacuation. As it stands I personally know twenty families that lost their homes, I am just waiting to hear the final totals. I was so on edge for most of the trip that I couldn't relax the tension in my shoulders, they just ached.

The only real highlight was the glimses I got to catch of my blog. Thank you to my fabulous guest bloggers! They were brilliant, funny, and inventive. They went above and beyond the call of duty and everyone should go and visit each of their blogs personally to thank them. And read about them. Because it may be a little longer before I am able to get a real post out and we all know that they are way more talented anyway.

Take care people, don't be setting any fires for the next few days, okay?