Nuts... Just Freaking Nuts
I am having to work late this week. It seems that if our CS department is allowed to close for a weekday (4th of July), the whole world falls apart. Sometimes I am simply amazed that some folks can wipe their own asses without someone helping them or breath without the benefits of signs reminding them to "BREATHE IN!" and "BREATHE OUT!"
I mean... how stupid must someone be to EMAIL that they can make outgoing calls but not accept incoming calls. HEY! GENIUS! PUT THAT GIFT OF GAB TO USE AND MAKE AN OUTGOING CALL TO THE FUCKING REPAIR DEPARTMENT!!!
So here it is, 10 hours after I strolled in, 150+ emails responded to, and what am I doing? Writing in my blog =p I swear they just need to install a shower, a cot, and a place to hang my clothes and I would probably not leave at times like this.
You know... I could be onto something there. Employee apartments. Hmmmm... I bet I would have a much better internet connection than I do at home ;)
Nothing else to bitch or whine about. I've squared away my feelings for Shelly, I just needed a few days completly cut off from her to get through all of my disappointment. That was really the only glitch in my life lately, so now life is pretty damned good.
Oh wait, there is something to bitch about:
With that second storm in the gulf, MOM WON'T LEAVE! GAAAAAH!!! First she was supposed to leave today. This morning she told me she is staying til tomorrow. This evening I get a call from her stating that depending on what the storm does she may not be going back home just yet. I love the old gal and all - and she cooks and cleans when she is here - but after over 2 weeks, I am getting a bit anxious to have my home (and my stuff) back to myself once again. Someone once asked me how I would cope if I were married and had kids. That's easy, the wife and kids wouldn't happen overnight. That would be something that would be eased into (hopefully :p), so I would be used to sharing my space with someone by the time I got married, then used to the idea of having another little body in the house in need of my attention by the time a child came along.
See? I have it all figured out. (just don't look too closely at it :p :p :p)
In the words of that damnednable Jar-Jar Binx, "Meesa so tiwed". Time to go home, read a bit, then pass out into a work-induced coma ("work-induced"? I wonder if workman's comp would cover that? hmmmmm...... :p ).