And I have acquired a physchiatrist appointment without shedding tears. It's birthday miracle.
Work is freaking out because the territory general manager is showing up Thursday and he's never been to the store before (Stores been open around 15 years this is a big deal). Doors are being painted! Walls are being scrubbed!!
I read Rat Queens last night and it took me a bit to get into but I have to read it again but I got into it. I probably was up too late because Betty was giving off this Louise from Bob's Burgers kind of vibe. Maybe that's just my crazy brain. But the glee and sneakiness reminded me of Louise.
askye, is it your birthday? Happy Birthday! Or, if it isn't, Happy Psychiatrist Appointment!
I'm very disappointed in Facebook antagonists lately, although I pretty much buried him in narrative(bitches be talkin') but here I sit on my pale crippled ass, with two cats and everything, and still no dime-store evol psych.
Patriarchs are slipping these days.
Here's one that made me chuckle, today at work...
I get in the not-so-reliable elevator in new building, on the ground floor, heading up for level 2. At level 1 the front doors open, and enters cute gal. She pushes the button for 2. The doors close. Nothing. I look at her, and say "this isn't a good sign". I push the door open button, and the doors open. I push the door close button, and they almost close. I push the door close button again, and they stay at the almost closed postion. I say again, "This really isn't a good sign". She asks if it's normal for this elevator. I respond, that it's normal for this elevator to misbehave, but this is a new version of misbehaving.
I push the door open button. And they do not open. I push the door close button, and they still do not fully close. Thankfully we are on level 1, which is one of the levels with a rear door access. I push the rear door open, and exit the elevator saying, "my advice, take the stairs".
The young lady is hesitant. She kinda stays in the elevator. I say again, "This is not a happy elevator, I wouldn't take my chances in it, until they fix it".
She asks, "So you think I should take the stairs?" with a scrunched up face. She waffles. Looking at the elevator. Not sure what to do.
YES!!
Moral of the story. If a guy on crutches says its probably safer to take the stairs, you should probably head his advice.
It was at that point, that I felt. Fuck it. It's lunch time. I was at the level that leads to my car. So I took lunch. I called in the malfuctioning elevator. Took a long lunch. And by the time I was back, it was working again.
Clearly, omnis, you were trying to lure her to the stairs for nefarious purposes!
Thanks Steph. My birthday is the 16Th. So in 2 weeks. And I will be in Florida celebrating with my family.
I think I may insist we go into town (from the beach) and find Cuban food, because I had yet another "Cuban" sandwich here in VT and I just need to admit there will never been a proper Cuban sandwich. The filling was right and tasted yummy, but it wasn't pressed and crispy that's key.
Clearly, omnis, you were trying to lure her to the stairs for nefarious purposes!
Clearly! I mean, if I hadn't hit the rear door open button, who knows what would have happened in that box. Two of us all alone.
Ugg, can't even joke about that. Too young. Far too young. I think my prospects of being a dirty old man are going down.
Just spent the last hour on Facebook chat with a young man that hangs out around the house. He wanted girl advice, and I'm the only adult woman he feels comfortable talking to. I told him it was OK if he and the girl ended up friends, because girls like guys they feel safe with. "Don't be the guy she remembers uneasily." He said that was new advice and that girls his age haven't learned to appreciate guys they feel safe with. But the conversation goes on. I feel so maternal.
Also, I need to check the thrift stores in big(ish) cities more often. The Goodwill in Salt Lake has provided me with a Liz Claiborne bag for 3 dollars. It's actually got room for stuff.
Dear Bosslady:
The house manager at this house handles the schedule. That means she handles the PTO requests. You know this. I know this. You know I know this. I know you know this. Don't tell me that you found my PTO request fallen down behind your mailbox. I put it in the house manager's box. You decided to rearrange the office area and dismantle the mailboxes and move them while the house manager was on vacation. That means you took shit out of her mailbox and didn't put it back. When I asked you about it two weeks ago, you bullshitted something about having an idea of some kind of experiment to try to get my shifts covered so I could have my PTO. You then proceeded to ... what? Put my PTO in the control group so I get the placebo instead of the experimental whatthefuckever time off? Look. I get it. Summer is a wacky time - lots of people want to take vacations, a couple of people have had deaths in their families, and someone has back surgery coming up at the end of the month. If you had flat out said to me, "Sorry, this is not going to work at this time, I have to say no to your PTO request," I would have understood. I can't say I'd be happy about it. But it would be a straightforward, clean disappointment at circumstances. Now I'm just plain pissed off, rather specifically at you. So yes, I will be showing up at that staff meeting that's in the middle of my vacation. I shall pointedly announce to everyone that I am on vacation. I shall also pointedly ask in front of both the house manager and the training specialist along with all the other staff precisely what the procedure is at this location for getting PTO requests approved and whether or not it is a procedure just for little ol' me or if it is for everyone. I may also develop the habit of asking these questions frequently on the grounds that rules seem to change when I'm not paying attention and that I wish to keep up with all the changes instead of having them sprung on me at inconvenient times such as three weeks after I turn in a PTO request and one week before my vacation is due to start.
With all the respect you are due,
Me.
