I'm just not in a great mood. I know, I'm normally not in a good mood, right? Screw you.
-Bryan and I went to go get my shiny new Blazer last night. I was all excited, Tweeted about it, Myspaced about it, Facebooked it...Only to find out the guy wasn't there, he was at the auto auction. That ticked me off.
-WTH, Craigslist? Why aren't you updating your "Best Of" section?! (BTW if you haven't been there...Do yourself a favor.) I mean, I could waste hours at work looking at your Best Of posts instead of blogging or...Horrors...WORK. Come on, UPDATE.
-I don't know why but I'm a pusher. I push and push and push and push. One way or another, I get what I want. Example: wanted to get married: did it. Wanted a fast car: bought the supercoupe. Wanted a romantic vacation with Bryan: got it. You can call it "spoiled" I call it determined. And as everyone knows, I have been DYING for Bryan to just up and propose already. (Granted, the last three months haven't been reeeal conducive to a proposal.) I keep pointing out rings, and pretty much everything under the sun to get him to propose. I even told him, "You need to do three things: buy the ring, propose, and be there. I'll handle the rest." But he won't do it, he says he's not ready. On one level I 100% understand that. On the other hand, WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON'T WANT TO GET MARRIED?! I'M MARRIAGE MATERIAL, DAMMIT! GET DOWN ON ONE KNEE, I'LL BUY THE DAMN RING! WAAAAHHH I'm a spoiled brat who's not getting my way waaaaah. Yeah...Kinda like that.
-I haven't heard back from financial aid from the college yet. Um, folks....I can't pay for this edumakashun. I need your money! So let me know how much I'ma gonna git, and then I can git the edumakashun I need.
-In another round of YOU SUCK AS A PARENT: Pook said "fuck dat" the other day. That's not my line, that's Bryans. So looks like we're both guilty of crappy parenting. Time to REALLY start watching our language.
Most everyone knows that I swear. A lot. Heck, even my friend K's husband didn't know who I she was talking about until she said, "You know, Heidi? The one that swears a lot?" "Oh, you mean Heidi Goddamnit?"
I'm trying to quit, I am. But unlike smoking, there's no patch for this. Just a little toddler to remind you that she IS listening, and IS learning to talk.
So Saturday she got into something she wasn't supposed to, I think it was Bryan's computer stuff. I'm not sure. Anywhoodles, what I do remember is saying, "Well, f***. This is GREAT." Pook just sat there, looking at me. She then slowly sounded out the word I just uttered. In a shining moment of grace, classiness, and all around MATURITY I then said "Oh SHIT, you just repeated it!"
I'm that classy, y'all.
We had this Monday and Tuesday off to work on our yard. We figured there was going to be some weeding, some seeding, some sanding and we'd be done. Nope.
For one, it seems that the next door neighbors favorite flower is dandelions, if her yard is any indication. So it's all over my yard, and digging those things up is HARD. And when reseeding you need to mow the lawn first. Which was 20 different kinds of fun, since my yard is MORE OR LESS DIRT. I'm sure people driving by wondering why I was mowing my dirt. At any rate, the yard is now reseeded. Even though the seed stuff is white and it looks like a powdered sugar factory blew up.
Tuesday I decided that since I'd already dug up one rootball of bamboo, surely I could dig up the others, right? Oh, the simplicity of stupidity. For one, those roots go farther than I anticipated. Two, those things can get 2 inches thick, and you JUST CAN'T KILL THEM. So after about three hours of pulling, swearing, and sweating I gave up. You win, Bamboo. I surrender. (Until we pour concrete then IT'S ON LIKE NECKBONES, BABY!) I also moved the rocks on the side of the house to...Well, a bigger pile on the side of the house. The plan is that eventually I'll use them to line the mound of dirt surrounding the tree in the front yard.
I also ruined a perfectly good manicure in the process, and broke three nails. I also have incredibly sore arms, a back that's very sore, but kinda tanned, too.
So it's not a total loss, right?
Paragraph.
My dear, lovely, sweet receptionist had the day off today, so I had to fill in for because “Didn’t you start off as a receptionist like eleventy-gazillion years ago?” What a day it was. To give you an idea of how craptacular my day was…I drank my lunch at a bar down the street. Seriously. For realz, yo.
For starters, just because I have to fill in for the receptionist doesn’t mean I can take a day off from my shit. Nope, still gotta do that too. On a good day, I’m lucky if I can do all my work by five and have time for lunch. Naturally, the phones are busy as hell today. Everyone’s machine seems to break down on today, of all days.
I’m also busy doing my collection calls, which no matter how polite I am, someone has to bitch about it. “She called me and she actually DEMANDED to know when payment would be sent!” (I know, I’m such a bitch! The nerve! Considering you’re four months behind and haven’t been returning my calls, yeah, I need to know. It’s my JOB.)
We also have this stupid survey that we have to do now. After a service call, we have to call the customer and survey them on their “experience”. Which, naturally, just opens the flood gates for any bitch they may have ever had. Here’s a handful of the responses I got today, and what I wanted to say is italicized.
“How would you rate the pleasantness of your experience today?”
“Well, you actually had the nerve to tell me a tech would have to pick up a check!”
Bitch, you were six months past due. You’re fucking lucky I even placed the damn call.
“How would you rate the overall experience today?”
“I have to tell you, I hate the way your invoices are laid out.”
What the FUCK?! How does that relate to how we got your shit fixed?!
“Is there any other comments you’d like to add in conclusion?”
“This machine is a piece of shit. It jams every time I load gummed envelopes!”
That’s because the machine isn’t DESIGNED to take gummed envelopes and you’ve been told THREE times by THREE SEPARATE techs to QUIT USING THEM!
You can see why by lunch I was ready to hook up an IV filled with vodka to my arm.
Also, I’ve come to the conclusion that most of the people in this office are fuck-eyed assmonkeys.
For one, one manager left rather early without telling anyone. I strongly suspect he was out golfing, considering he showed up today with his clubs in the backseat of his overpriced Jag. Another manager just simply disappeared for over two hours, again, with nobody knowing where he went. Good to know we’re all working so hard since they’ve threatened layoffs, and all. Good to see we’re all concerned. One rep called and proceeded to tear me a new one because, “OH MY GOD WHY HASN’T THIS CUSTOMER GOTTEN CREDIT APPROVAL, YOU LAZY SLUT!” I let her go on until after about five minutes I calmly said, “Carla, kinda shut your damn pie-hole. I told your customer I needed a 2008 tax return. Guess what I have yet to receive? Until then, I can’t process this for credit. Next time you want to ream me out, check the facts first. In the mean time, shut the hell up. And don’t forget to have a nice day.”
By the time five o’clock rolled around, I laid rubber getting out of there like the Devil Himself was after me.
And people wonder why I can’t quit smoking. Hunh.
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