|Posted by Tammy L Boehm on June 8, 2009 at 8:43 PM|
So here I am - coming off of what, my third week of working sixty hours a week because some ingrate had the neuticals to walk off the job - leaving me to do hers AND mine - not like this is freakin' BURGER KING (here, hold my fries, will you) and any drone with a paper hat and bicolored polo shirt can step in - NYEWWWWW. 40 other people are counting on ME to make sure their incomes are....well....coming in. Oh but she breaks an emotional nail and SNAPS in mid sentence....must be nice to be able to bale on the universe without so much as a second thought.
Oh yes, we have a new victim uh...temp person but damn. I didn't have time to scratch and pee let alone TRAIN someone to do someone else's job. I'm toast, people. TOAST. Tired of goin in to work at SIX A FLIPPIN EM and getting home at quarter till seven pm. It's old already. I drove my fam nuts to get a degree so I wouldn't have to sell my very soul to the corporate MONSTER. Seriously. And here I am. working 12 hour days just to get by. I am ever so chapped.
Ya'd think the familia would take pity on a girl but no...the troll calls me yesterday whilst I am posting and coding and sweating my newts off trying to get everything done and says "Which one of you a**holes ate my turkey leg?" (oh no he DIDN'T!) (teen pummeled by poultry appendage....film at eleven) The incorrigible toad. A pox on his angsty hide. Suffice it to say, my coworker in the next room learned several new expletives. I heard her giggling. Not sure why. Perhaps she overheard my rhetorical musings regarding the feasibility of lobotomizing a troll with poultry parts....or simply using his empty dome for a pinata....I don't know.
So this morning I got up at five fifteen because the shooting pain in my shoulder and arm would not abate...(too much cozying up to the mouse I guess - and no damnitol in site) and I cleaned out my closet. How is it possible that my closet is still full when I took out FIVE garbage bags of clothing that will never cover both cheeks...or even one...I don't know.
And here I am. I spent an hour sucking a beer and designing a meez. I've truly lost my mind.
Tomorrow - I usher in both services (I love my husband. The beastmaster...) and then I get to go spend time with the WSM (wicked step mother. Her nomenclature, not mine) to help her clean out my dad's things. As if crying every morning and every evening isn't enough. Lets plan a scourging and biscuits for high tea, shall we?
I stepped down from the front desk at church and I am not attending any small groups this summer. I actually had a small storyline cooking on the way to work (when I wasn't being run off the road by Guido, Vito, and Clyde in their dualie) for Bethany's sequel. Which by the way...my dream of world domination and adulation by the masses has totally tanked. Not real sure why I got the opposite of "more time to write" when I specifically prayed for "more time to write" but now its more like "no time to write." I feel like I spit in God's Holy Mocha Latte....and since he knows everything...I'm not the favorite meat sack today.
But there is a silver lining (I pray its really silver and not mercury, you know? I'm crazy enough) my boss is out of town next week. There will be blogging and whining, spit and vilification, and maybe even Oh My COWS! something poetic...(Not)
We'll see. Right now I must away...the bipeds have Big Bertha in pieces on the diningroom table. I'm afraid...Very afraid. (Bertha is a lazer printer...easy girl...wow that's a really big screwdriver they have there....)
Categories: Angst and Ashes