Spike's Bitches 47: Someone Dangerous Could Get In
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risqué (and frisqué), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
I could really use some ~ma this weekend. I discovered that one of my former co-workers had NOT done some things she said she would do before leaving the firm. She had been under a lot of stress (family issues) before she left, and probably let things slide, lost track of things, etc. due to that and her short-time status.
To make a long story short, I was taking her word on it that things were getting done, and didn't do a more thorough follow-up check. I had a lot of other work to do myself, but her work impacts one of my projects and therefore I feel more than a little responsible. Yeah, I'm beating myself up a bit. Edit: Make that a lot.
I need to talk to my boss about this, but I don't know if he'll be in Monday or Tuesday, as he had shoulder surgery last week and wasn't sure if he'd be recovered in time to come in. I know how I'll approach the conversation, but I just want to get it over with. I'll probably get dinged somewhat on my annual review, but I do have a plan for how to address the issue in terms of both cleanup and prevention.
Where could use the ~ma is in getting my brain to quiet down so that I can stop worrying at this over the weekend (and possibly even over the holiday weekend). I didn't sleep much last night thanks to this.
So, Teppy, was Dr. Douche a remarkably fit individual? A shining example to us all?
Ah, but the thing is, you can't tell a blessed thing about a person's size/shape, other than what their size/shape is. He's 68 (a fact he mentioned when Dad, who is hilariously blunt, told him he looked old enough to be retired), and seemed basically in the average/lean category of weight for his height.
But for all I know, the man could have The Diabeeeetus, high cholesterol, and never do a moment of exercise. Because you can't tell that shit based on how someone looks.
Looks sure are deceiving. Because he initially looked like a pleasant old man.
This seems like just the thing that would amuse buffistas, dumb ways to die video. Probably nsfw because of the sound.
Sean, sorry to have skipped over your post, but I hope everything works out with the roommate/living situation.
Sean, I also meant to say that I'm sorry about your roommate and your financial situation. Tons of whatever kind of ~ma you need.
Sean, no answers here, but I hope something works out.
Hec, not especially tech-savvy, but it's also not like you to post a link without telling me why I might want to read it.
Much ~ma to Anne and Sean, and Shir, I hate it too. I'm thinking of you always.
Thank you so much, Plei. He really was. I miss him every day, despite Cagney's best efforts to worm his way into my heart. He's a dear, but just. not. the same.
It isn't. Even if you have two at the same time, as I've found. Daisy's my girl. Bluebell's sweet, and lovely, but it's not the same. I have to remind myself to be patient with her. Lucky for Blue, she's got the rest of the fam.
(I had the same thing with my cats. The cat we had put to sleep in December of last year was my girl. The remaining cat, I feel guilty because I don't love her the same way.)
The remaining cat, I feel guilty because I don't love her the same way.
So much, this.
Rationally, I know I am giving him a good life. No. An excellent life.
I am fond of him. I don't want to be without him, but I just don't love him the same way. I suppose that is normal, but it seems wrong to not have that depth of feeling.
I would have stepped in front of a locomotive to save Bartleby from the slightest pain. I suppose I'd do the same for Cagney, but for very different reasons.
Looks sure are deceiving. Because he initially looked like a pleasant old man.
Ahahaha.
Sean, hon, I'm so sorry. I hope you figure it out. I'm in a similar situation - either need to move, get a higher paying job, or get a second job. And I really don't want to do any of those things.
eta with the pet thing... I love Frankie more than my cats. I feel like a traitor to the Cat Nation. Completely unexpected, but that pup owns my heart. Even when he's a pain in my ass. Sometimes I get sad thinking about a future when he's gone, even though he's only four and goddess willing will be around for a long time. I still love my Queen Bitch kitty and Little Miss Melancholy, but it isn't the same, and I feel extra bad because I had them first by a long shot.
Blech. I don't like it when my friends struggle. I want to magically make it all better.
Sean, in the short term, can you start saving just a little bit of money each month to resolve the license issue? Even if you can't afford a car right now, I would think that getting your license back would be a good first step.
You can also work to get your apartment cleaned up so you can search for another roommate. It doesn't have to be fancy, just clean.