Fucked... and fuck you.
Same shit, different day.
Haven't been peed on in 48 hours so that is a plus. Need to look at the bright side. Work has been an irritation... a constant irritation. It seems like someone somewhere DID remember that I needed this week to be easier than most, because they've gone out of their way to make sure they fuck with my time at every step of the way.
Oh, Miss Managed is still at her idiotic best. The latest news from the world of the insane is that her dog is "dying". And though she took him to the vet to get him put down Monday, the miracle vet apparently wanted to perform some kind of witchcraft on the thing and it is still not determined if the 16 y/o beast is alive or dead. I have had a feeling it's actually been dead for weeks or months and she's just been saving the "death" as an excuse to use to get out of work at the most opportune moment. Which would be when this new guy is about to start here. That way she can transition from "need time off to mourn dead dog" to "need time off to deal with the new puppy I bought to deal with dead dog's death". It's coming... mark my words.... I am never wrong. Never.
She is taking next week off, as if she knew that I'd be planning on Monday off myself. As I've taken it off the past two years (the last Monday in June to coincide with Pride on the last Sunday). I'd asked way ahead of time, though the Boss had totally forgotten anyway. But, her time off is apparently not affecting mine... what it will affect is the rest of my week I think. We are having a "meeting" this afternoon to discuss stuff concerning this client she's been working on stuff with. Because she couldn't possibly get the work done BEFORE she goes. There will probably be a huge list of shit to deal with when she is gone (and no doubt it will all be "critical" and need to be done "while" she is gone). I'm willing to bet money on this, though I would LOVE to be wrong.
I had intended on leaving at 3:30 today since I worked till after 9:00 last night and had to cancel my regular Wednesday "therapy" session to do so. I have a haircut at five, so I am already filled with anxiety (because I always have ridiculous anxiety about going for haircuts, mostly revolving around my issues sweating..... because on the worst of hot days I can literally soak through two shirts sitting in a chair getting a haircut). Now these fuckers want to have this meeting and I guarantee she will be late for it. It's supposed to happen at 2:30... I am betting she won't even be around till 3:00. But, I am leaving here at 3:30 come hell or high water. And if it gets to the point where it seems like she's going to fuck me, I will just tell the Boss "I gotta go".
I have too much on my plate the next four days to deal with the same old work bullshit. I need a break from it before I crack. I am so happy I'll have two three-day weekends in a row. I am burnt out on this place, burnt out on stupid customers and burnt out on Miss Managed's crap. And more is to come as I am betting when the new guy starts on the 6th that Miss Managed will direct any and all of her frustration and inadequacies about him on ME. I'll be amazed to see how much MORE helpless she becomes after his arrival, as she is already as useless as a bag of rocks. Scratch that, I could find a hundred uses off the top of my head for a bag of rocks.
On the home front I have now called the Anti-Cruelty Society TWICE and they continue to ignore my calls concerning an appointment to get the new cat fixed. I am trying to go with them because they are the cheapest and most accessible of all the shelters. And I won't even go near a vet at this point because I refuse to be ass-raped by the price gouging of all of the ones in the city. I have had it up to my bald head in overpriced yuppie shit in my neighborhood. I can't wait for the comet to hit and turn every godsdamned well-to-do bastard on the north side into dust. My only regret is that my dust might mix with theirs.
Went to my folks on Father's Day where my dad told me he didn't think he'd make it to next Father's Day. That his breathing is getting worse and he just feels things are coming to an end. And NOT to tell my mother that. I've never faced death, just like Captain Kirk, and it took many hours before what my father told me really computed. Everything will change when my father dies. I can't keep living like I am when that happens. I'll need to be more accessible to my mom as in a way it will become my responsibility to watch out for her and make sure she's okay. My sister has already proven completely useless in the task.
She cares about two things. Having everything done for her by my parents and taking all my dad's stuff before his body is even cold. I feel so much contempt for her. I am sure we will barely speak once both my parents are gone. No doubt because she will attempt to take everything they own as her own... and in her fucked up mind she believes it's rightfully deserved by her. My parents know my feelings on the matter and they're well aware that everything they've built will be destroyed by her. I'm not sure if their will reflects this knowledge or not. I could see my sister sneaking into their house when dad is gone, stealing his tools and selling them on ebay for money. Yes, that is what I think of my sister because THAT is the kind of person she's shown herself to be to me.
So, aside from financial calamity, horny cats, living in a neighborhood becoming overrun with crime, working at a job that's stealing my fucking soul with a woman whose every motivation is to prove me wrong, fixating on the upcoming end of the world, being fat, depressed and lazy now my parents mortality is in the forefront of my mind as well which goes perfectly with my own feelings of aging since I've turned 35 this year.
There is no time for positivity and enjoyment in life. And I really want to kick the faces in of all the people on Facebook who start each day with a goddamned affirmation of the joys of life. Seeing as they are usually the most diluted, doomed people of them all. They have no idea what's coming... they see fucking sunshine, rainbows and Smurfs everywhere. Even when people are getting shit to death on the sidewalk outside their ridiculously overpriced condo.
Oh look, now I need to go running to a fucking client. Unfuckingbelievable. I am not supposed to have a personal life apparently. Fuck me for having other things to do.
Haven't been peed on in 48 hours so that is a plus. Need to look at the bright side. Work has been an irritation... a constant irritation. It seems like someone somewhere DID remember that I needed this week to be easier than most, because they've gone out of their way to make sure they fuck with my time at every step of the way.
Oh, Miss Managed is still at her idiotic best. The latest news from the world of the insane is that her dog is "dying". And though she took him to the vet to get him put down Monday, the miracle vet apparently wanted to perform some kind of witchcraft on the thing and it is still not determined if the 16 y/o beast is alive or dead. I have had a feeling it's actually been dead for weeks or months and she's just been saving the "death" as an excuse to use to get out of work at the most opportune moment. Which would be when this new guy is about to start here. That way she can transition from "need time off to mourn dead dog" to "need time off to deal with the new puppy I bought to deal with dead dog's death". It's coming... mark my words.... I am never wrong. Never.
She is taking next week off, as if she knew that I'd be planning on Monday off myself. As I've taken it off the past two years (the last Monday in June to coincide with Pride on the last Sunday). I'd asked way ahead of time, though the Boss had totally forgotten anyway. But, her time off is apparently not affecting mine... what it will affect is the rest of my week I think. We are having a "meeting" this afternoon to discuss stuff concerning this client she's been working on stuff with. Because she couldn't possibly get the work done BEFORE she goes. There will probably be a huge list of shit to deal with when she is gone (and no doubt it will all be "critical" and need to be done "while" she is gone). I'm willing to bet money on this, though I would LOVE to be wrong.
I had intended on leaving at 3:30 today since I worked till after 9:00 last night and had to cancel my regular Wednesday "therapy" session to do so. I have a haircut at five, so I am already filled with anxiety (because I always have ridiculous anxiety about going for haircuts, mostly revolving around my issues sweating..... because on the worst of hot days I can literally soak through two shirts sitting in a chair getting a haircut). Now these fuckers want to have this meeting and I guarantee she will be late for it. It's supposed to happen at 2:30... I am betting she won't even be around till 3:00. But, I am leaving here at 3:30 come hell or high water. And if it gets to the point where it seems like she's going to fuck me, I will just tell the Boss "I gotta go".
I have too much on my plate the next four days to deal with the same old work bullshit. I need a break from it before I crack. I am so happy I'll have two three-day weekends in a row. I am burnt out on this place, burnt out on stupid customers and burnt out on Miss Managed's crap. And more is to come as I am betting when the new guy starts on the 6th that Miss Managed will direct any and all of her frustration and inadequacies about him on ME. I'll be amazed to see how much MORE helpless she becomes after his arrival, as she is already as useless as a bag of rocks. Scratch that, I could find a hundred uses off the top of my head for a bag of rocks.
On the home front I have now called the Anti-Cruelty Society TWICE and they continue to ignore my calls concerning an appointment to get the new cat fixed. I am trying to go with them because they are the cheapest and most accessible of all the shelters. And I won't even go near a vet at this point because I refuse to be ass-raped by the price gouging of all of the ones in the city. I have had it up to my bald head in overpriced yuppie shit in my neighborhood. I can't wait for the comet to hit and turn every godsdamned well-to-do bastard on the north side into dust. My only regret is that my dust might mix with theirs.
Went to my folks on Father's Day where my dad told me he didn't think he'd make it to next Father's Day. That his breathing is getting worse and he just feels things are coming to an end. And NOT to tell my mother that. I've never faced death, just like Captain Kirk, and it took many hours before what my father told me really computed. Everything will change when my father dies. I can't keep living like I am when that happens. I'll need to be more accessible to my mom as in a way it will become my responsibility to watch out for her and make sure she's okay. My sister has already proven completely useless in the task.
She cares about two things. Having everything done for her by my parents and taking all my dad's stuff before his body is even cold. I feel so much contempt for her. I am sure we will barely speak once both my parents are gone. No doubt because she will attempt to take everything they own as her own... and in her fucked up mind she believes it's rightfully deserved by her. My parents know my feelings on the matter and they're well aware that everything they've built will be destroyed by her. I'm not sure if their will reflects this knowledge or not. I could see my sister sneaking into their house when dad is gone, stealing his tools and selling them on ebay for money. Yes, that is what I think of my sister because THAT is the kind of person she's shown herself to be to me.
So, aside from financial calamity, horny cats, living in a neighborhood becoming overrun with crime, working at a job that's stealing my fucking soul with a woman whose every motivation is to prove me wrong, fixating on the upcoming end of the world, being fat, depressed and lazy now my parents mortality is in the forefront of my mind as well which goes perfectly with my own feelings of aging since I've turned 35 this year.
There is no time for positivity and enjoyment in life. And I really want to kick the faces in of all the people on Facebook who start each day with a goddamned affirmation of the joys of life. Seeing as they are usually the most diluted, doomed people of them all. They have no idea what's coming... they see fucking sunshine, rainbows and Smurfs everywhere. Even when people are getting shit to death on the sidewalk outside their ridiculously overpriced condo.
Oh look, now I need to go running to a fucking client. Unfuckingbelievable. I am not supposed to have a personal life apparently. Fuck me for having other things to do.