WOAH - I'm a slacker...
K - I know I've been neglectful. It happens. I just have way too much to say, so much so that it clogs up in the brain and I'm left a drooling, stammering moron with no clue how to string together four simple words, let alone articulate everything that's been going through my head. So, let's start simply.
It's been brought to my attention that tomorrow is an important day in the blog-o-sphere. It is the celebration of the birth of that smooth talking, Wild Irish Rose drinking, soon to be no meat eating, chain smoking, Schmoop loving, Jeebus worshiping deity known as MATT MAN. For a truly fitting tribute, as obviously mine does not do him justice, go sit for a spell on the Couch and check out Vinny's wonderful words of praise and celebration. Matt, if you happen to read this dude, just know one thing. If it wasn't for your blog, and the in-your-face-tell-it-like-it-is-hold-nothing-back way in which you reveal the truth about life to us, my reservation at the Coo-Coo (ka-choo - I am NOT the walrus) Inn would have been filled a long time ago. Thank you for keeping me laughing when it feels like there's nothing left to laugh about. I might not always comment, but I'm always reading. Schmoop is definately one lucky lady - or at least she will be when she gets to claim the life insurance.
Ok, next thought out of my head. I HATE MY JOB. I know that in this economy I should be grateful to even be working, but all that keeps happening is that the men in my office decide to dump all the shit on my desk that they dont' feel like doing. I've been there for over two years and when I got the job, it was just doing collections. I was told though, that I would get a raise after a little while. I never did. NOW, I'm doing sales, collections and a whole bunch of other shit that was NEVER in my job description. It looks like I might finally get a raise, but yesterday, I just about had a nervous breakdown. Not only was I doing my regular job, answering the phones and collections, the guys just dumped all sorts of paperwork on me. And then proceeded to DO NOTHING. The phones were ringing off the hook - we have ten lines - and one of the guys was standing there just talking to someone. He couldn't take two seconds to say to the guy "Excuse me, I need to get this." and then just put the damn call on hold. No, I'm trying to take an order with three lines ringing in my damn ear. I just about flipped out, and I almost was in tears. This job is going to be the death of me, I can feel it.
And it doesn't look like I'll be able to move out in June either. With Hubby's hours at work getting cut down, and me having as many sick days (see below) and dr's appt's (therefore missing hours), I wasn't able to put any money away last month, which already puts me $500 behind my goal. I can't get anything to go right for me. I'm going to be doing my cardiac class through to May the way things are going. I'm not supposed to go to the hospital (for class) when I'm sick. And with my muscle injury (again see below) I wasn't able to walk. So I've missed three classes so far this year, and we're only coming up on the sixth Monday. So my weight loss is behind as well.
I've been in pain for the last three weeks. I did something to my trap muscle, and it's been in major pain. But because of the heart meds I'm on, I can't use anti-inflamatories. So the doc at the clinic put me on percs. I tried not to take them, and for the first two nights managed fine. But then day three came along and WOAH, I was in wayyyy too much pain to ignore it. I had to take two days off work and wasn't able to do anything. The doctor said that it could take weeks to work itself out. Even sitting on the phone was painful cuz I had to have my neck at a certain angle. The pain would start at any time, and it was so bad I almost wanted to go to sleep for three weeks. It's still a bit painful, and kicks in whenever it feels like it. I'm coping. What I can say about the percs is woooooah. NICE. I slept very well.
My grandfather has been in the hospital almost a month. It's unnerving because they don't know what's wrong with him. He went in because he couldn't walk, and they kept him on a gurney for five days. Then he had a high fever, and kidney stones that they apparently couldn't do anything about. My grandmother has been staying with us all this time, and as much as I love her, she drives me crazy. And my poor mother is about to crack under the strain of everything. She's working, taking care of my grandmother, going to visit my grandfather, listening to my aunt and uncle both bitch about their lives. My aunt has been miserable in her marriage the last five years at least, and now is finally getting the balls to do something about it. Unfortunately she's alienated pretty much all her friends, who only come around when she's throwing a party, so the only people she's got to bitch to are my mom, and my two cousins. And mom has no one to bitch to (because you don't bitch about family to friends, at least SHE doesn't) except myself and my cousins, one of whom is away at university, and the other who is the biggest drama queen in the universe. I swear he is. So it all falls on my shoulders cuz I live with her. And my dad's sick of listening to her about my aunt - after thirty eight years of the woman making EVERYTHING about her, he's had it. SIGH. I'm telling you, one day we're going to turn on the news and mom's going to be in a clock tower with a rifle.
Hubby's doing ok. We're going to see Happy Days - the Musical for his birthday tomorrow night. The critics didn't really enjoy it, but I've never been one to listen to them. And besides, he's a huge Happy Days fan. Ok, more specifically, he's a huge Fonzie fan. I think he'll enjoy it. He's been working his ass off too. The trouble with working for the same company is that you know when there's been problems in the other departments and you hear about it before the other person can tell you - which makes for some silent car rides home. But I figure that's ok, we're de-stressing, right?
I would like to know what is going on with this world though. I read in the paper yesterday about a 12 year old boy who was taken into custody because he brought - are you ready for this? - a double edged bayonet AND a gun to school. TWELVE YEARS OLD? Like what the hell? It really doesn't matter that the firing pin had been removed from the gun and that the barrel was stuffed. It's still a gun! The reason? Because he was bullied and verbally abused by other students. It makes me sick to think that kids are coming to this though. With no other way of dealing with this than turning to violence and weapons. I can understand why - there's no fear of authority in the kids today. At least not here. We've got this dumb ass thing called the Youth Criminal Justice Act, which protects those under the age of 18 who commit crimes. And yes, in most cases, that even covers murder. In 98% of all cases, when crimes are commited by a minor, they can't be identified by either their name or their image. To do so gives the defense a reason to have the case thrown out of court, and if there's need to do so, prosecutors have to jump through hoops to get permission. There's no fear of retribution, no fear of punishment. If they do get caught and sent to juvie, they're out by the age of 18. Then they're free to commit adult crimes. And what's even better? They're prior records can't be brought into court. Even if they're adults when they're caught for the crime, if it was done before the age of 18, they cannot be named. It's bullshit and there are days when I wonder if I really want to bring a child into this fucked up world. Not to say that there's anything wrong with doing so. Just not sure if it's right for me.
SIGH. So much more going through my head. I wish I could get it all out. Maybe then I could sleep properly. I've got ideas for writing, and I can't get any of them down. I'm currently in the market for a netbook. That way I can write and surf just about anywhere (I know - that has wireless). But also, that way I don't need the six million notebooks I've got. I'm tired of looking for something I've written, only to find part of it in one notebook and then I can't remember where I put the other part of it. My grandmother offered to pay for at least half of one for my birthday , which I know isn't until July, but I could get the present early.
Then there's Brenda's wedding, which I'm the maid of honor for. I haven't even started planning the bachelorette party yet. I had an idea about going to Niagara Falls (originally the plan was for Vegas, but that was if she was getting married in 2010). But she wanted to move it closer to in town that way more people could make it. I almost told her that she's the bride, she has no say in this. LOL. So there's that to do.
Oh I think I feel an ulcer coming on. I KNOW I'm getting a migrane.
Enjoy the weekend kiddies. I hope to be back posting again really soon.
Stay sane inside insanity ~ and never forget your towel.
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