Heidi's Hell Hole

Super Snatch Day 11/18/2009
 
Okay, I know, alright, I know. Nobody likes hearing from me. I’m the dreaded collection call. But I swear I’m actually really nice and most people like to work with me! I’m relatively easy going and I can empathize with the tough times. Hell, I’m in tough times m’self, so I try to extra nice and helpful.

 

But today has been Super Snatch Day. Everyone has been a total jerk. I asked K if it was me, and he said he can hear me and I sound like my normal nice self. Here’s a snippet of the conversations I’ve had today.

 

ME: Sir, we can release the supplies, but we can’t deliver. I already made an exception because your account is past due.

CUSTOMER: This is crap! You better have someone deliver supplies or I’m going to cancel.

M: Sir, since all of our techs are out assisting other clients, would you like the address to send in that cancellation letter?

 

M: Ma’am, I’m not saying you’re a “deadbeat” as you put it, I’m just saying there’s a past due invoice, maybe you didn’t get it in the mail?

C: So, you’re saying I don’t pay our bills then?!

M: [bangs head against wall]

 

C: How dare you leave a message for Deanna! She’s not the owner! I AM, GOT IT?!

M: Sir, I asked for accounts payable, they said she was it. So I left a message.

C: Well, she might be accounts payable but I sign the damn checks!

M: Dully noted, sir.

 

C: You called me yesterday, Heidi.

M: Yes, and you said you’d call me back in an hour. I didn’t hear from you, so I’m calling you back, 24 hours later.

C: This is harassment!

 

C: I said I’d send you a check, didn’t I?

M: Yes, ma’am, you did. But that was a month ago and nothing has posted. Perhaps it was lost in the mail?

C: When I say I sent a check, you best believe I sent the check, missy.

M: I’m sure you did. Has the check cleared? Perhaps it was misposted?

C: I don’t have to answer that.

 

As you can see, I am renaming today, November 18th, Super Snatch Day.

 
 
 
Bryan is a good, nay GREAT cook. I have yet to find a dish that he has made me that I didn't love. As a matter of fact, he told his friend last night, "If it's good, Heidi will let you  know. Also, if it sucks, she'll let you know that, too."

It seems, however, that I am not the only one who appreciates his culinary skills. Most of my lunches are leftovers from the previous dinner. However, half the time I am not eating for one, I am eating for two. My deliver driver, DB, will often eat half my lunch. Sometimes he'll eat his lunch AND my entire lunch. "You had a ton in there!"

Last night, Bryan and his friend made Southern BBQ babyback ribs with mashes potatoes, gravy, and corn. Four of my favorite foods, just waiting for me to nuke 'em and devour them. DB noticed my ribs and made the comment, "SWEET, HEIDI BROUGHT RIBS!" Like it's somehow a picnic lunch I packed just for him.
 
I responded with my natural grace, "DB, if you so much as breathe on those ribs, you'll be castrated with an company issue spork. In fact, touch my lunch ever again, and I'll kill you. And you can take that to HR." EXACT WORDS, FOLKS.

DB, to his credit, didn't touch my ooey-gooey goody ribs. Noooo, he did not. My manager, Gerald, took one. I came back from getting a soda and there's a forlorn rib on my plate, and a reddish mess where its companion once lay. He said I had two, and since it was on my desk unattended, he thought they were for everyone. DUDE, WTH?!

Since eating out every day is not fiscally an option, I contemplated telling everyone I spit in my lunch. But I somehow doubt that will stop things. Nor is telling Bryan to stop cooking because, lets face it, a girls gotta eat. OH! I KNOW! Innernets, I am so smart, y'all. I'll post a sign saying , "ONE OF THESE HAS THE H1N1 VIRUS. DO YOU KNOW WHICH ONE IT IS?"

I'm s'glad I'm klassee and edumacated.
 
 
As I write this, it is barely 1300 hours. I have been up for six hours and I’m ready to crawl into a dark hole.

 

My day started out crappy and has continued to be crap. First of all, I woke up with a headache, which I still have. Bryan and I were grouchy with each other this morning, since work for us has been hell. I felt bad when he left. (I love you, baby!)

 

I have been rather lax about laundry of late. Because of my laziness, I had to root around for ten minutes to find panties. I did find panties, though I wouldn’t use that term. More like big-as-a-banner granny panties. (Side note to underwear manufacturers: panties shouldn’t come up to just below my boobs. FYI.) (Side side note: why do I own these again? Oh, right, I wore them in the hospital when Pook was born.)

 

 I left early for work since it’s raining out, and traffic can be a bear. My route to work involves driving by a river. A river with little duckies. I almost ran over one of those little duckies. I swerved to avoid hitting it, but it rattled me.

 

I got to work, and my computer decided to run super slowly. My morning report normally takes 20 minutes to run, code, analyze, print, and distribute. But, this morning it took an hour. When I printed it out, my printer used a ream of paper spewing gibberish. Lovely, so I spent another hour doing it again. Meanwhile, I’ve got management on my ass about where the hell that report is! I ended up having to show them the ream of paper so they’d shut the hell up.

 

That fiasco over with, corporate sent us their idea of a flu prevention kit…A box of single ply, 20 grit sandpaper…Um, I mean Kleenex. I am not making this up. This is how corporate tells its employees they care. I’m pretty sure the next round of cutbacks are right around the corner.

 

Riiiight about that time, my email decides to take a complete dump and crash. So, any hopes I had about those important emails I had sent reaching their intended recipients crashed with it. So, pretty much, since my offices lives and dies on email, communication wise, my day just got screwed. I rebooted and tried again. No dice. Well, fuck me sideways. And of course, once again, I’ve got people all but screaming “WHERE IS THAT EMAIL?!” By this time, it’s roughly ten AM…

 

My receptionist catches me on my way upstairs, “Heidi there’s a call for you. She’s a real bitch.” Gee, thanks. The customer was a bitch and a half. See, our billing is driven off of metered data that our customer provides. She said her metered data was wrong. I suggested maybe someone read the data wrong and she flew off the handle about how dare I suggest her employees aren’t trained! The entire time I was on the phone with her, she stopped just short of calling me a horrid, stupid slut. She ended by saying she was going to cancel her contract. I didn’t try to dissuade her.

 

The final straw of my day came about lunch time. My boss decided to heat up “tuna surprise”. Let me tell everyone a little secret: when you work in an office, you never heat up anything stinky or smelly. Tuna STINKS. It smells like the inside of Satan’s ass. My boss, bless ‘is heart, never got that damn memo. He is noshing away in his office, and might I add, with an alarming level of enjoyment. Who the hell likes leftover tuna surprise?! I asked him to shut his door, as it’s starting to make me ill. He tells me to quit being dramatic. I started my rebuttal but I was interrupted by throwing up in my trashcan. I raced downstairs to throw up in the bathroom. People saw me hurl. People heard me hurl. My other boss screeched, “YOU’VE GOT SWINE FLUUUUU! LEAVE THIS PLACE!! GO HOME! OH MAH GAWD, EWW!”  I was all too happy to oblige.

 

I get home, plop down on the couch and Kiera comes over and looks at me sympathetically. She then proceeded to hurl. On my shoes. Damn dog.

 

Tonight, we have Pookers second evaluation. I am beyond nervous. I’m worried the people will judge me as a mother, like I have FAILED my child. Just another way my day can suck, and another way Mommy Guilt can wrack me yet again.

 

Considering my day so far, I’m going to apologize in advance for any drunk texting later on….



 
 
 
Ever have one of those days where you wake up just itchin’ for a drink, but you’re so tired you’re afraid you’d drown in your rum and Coke? Really? Just me? Oh, well okay then.

 

I woke up late because I could not sleep last night. I suspect it’s because my Mother gave Bryan and I a new king sized bed, and I’m still getting used to it. The mattress is a heck of a lot firmer than our old one, and I’m not used to having so much room. I’m used to having Bryan smooshed right up against me, and now I can lie on the bed, like the Vitruvian man and still not touch him.

 

I also had a freaky dream about my delivery driver and the in house technician. The driver was King of Scotland, wearing a kilt and the uniform shirt, while the tech was a court jester…In a Spandex leotard. I need professional help.

 

I had all of five minutes to shower, get dressed, do my hair and makeup, and get to work on time. I ended up taking a 2 second shower, pulling my still dripping-wet hair into a ponytail, eschewing makeup, grabbed the first pair of clean pants & shirt I could find and literally ran out the damn door.

 

 On the way to work, a guy next to me was honkin’ up a storm. I turned, and it’s one of the guys I used to work with years ago. He knew my name, asked how Bryan as doing while I….Couldn’t for the life of me remember his name. He wanted to chat; as I was driving down the road, resisting the urge to just speed up and speed off. When he (finally) turned off, I was stuck behind Father Time in a caravan. Behind me was some kid who looks like he just graduated from wearing Scooby Doo underwear in an Accord. I dropped a gear, switched lanes, and passed him. The Scooby Dooby Doo kid pulled up next to me and shouted, “OH MY GOD, I LOVE YOU! I LOVE YOUR MERCEDES! MARRY ME!”

 

Um, dude. It’s a BMW. It says so on the back. Can you not read the alphabet? Did you see the BMW logo and confuse it with Mercedes-Benz? I mean, seriously, WTF?

 

I got to work, and nearly wept with joy at the sight of coffee in the coffee pot. I poured myself a big mug, and took a long swallow, only to find out it was yesterdays brew that was kept warm and no one has made a fresh pot yet. I nearly wept again, but not for joy.

 

Then I got into a fight with a rep who submitted six different contracts for ONE account, so they’d have different rates throughout the year. When I told the customer it doesn’t work like that, she called the rep who informed her, verbatim, “Heidi doesn’t know shit.” Excuuuuse me? Who’s been here longer, and who’s dealt with contracts exclusively for that time? Oh, that’s right: ME. Screw you, bud. Y’know what? Screw you twice.

 

Finally, lunch time rolled around. I had $5 to my name, and thank God Boons Wine was one sale for $3.99. Yes, I did drink my lunch. I also found out that the Bimmer I’ve been RAVING about, showing off, and generally acting better than you in? It came thisclose to overheating while I was driving back from Ye Olde Liquor Store. That’ll teach me to be humble, won’t it? It wasn’t even 1:00PM yet, and I painted a pretty pathetic picture: hiding out in the back parking lot, drinking cheap wine from the bottle, chain smoking, and wishing I could take a spork from the break room to slit my damn wrists.

 

After lunch, I found out that I owe some company from years ago close to $350. For a bill that my ex-husband created, but it was in my name. When we divorced, he told me he’d take care of it, but the douchebag clearly never did. So, it went to collections, who took it to court. They tried serving me papers, at a job I haven’t worked at in over 4 years. Finally, someone over there wised up, because I got a notice in the mail about it, and I now have to find $350 somewhere and pay these douchetards, or they’ll garnish my wages. Aaaand since my ex and I never had anything more than a verbal agreement and it’s in my name, guess who’s stuck with the bill no matter what?

 

I found out we have 2 Coronas, and a bit o’ whiskey and tequila at the house. I’m thinking about just mixing all three together when I get home.

 
 
Umm....OW 06/10/2009
 

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.

 
 

Up until now, the recession hadn’t really affected Bryan and I. Sure, we shopped a little smarter, and things like that. But we both had our jobs, and our full pay.

 

That changed this morning after a little meeting I had.

 

My company is cutting base salaries all around by 9%. But wait! We want to make it up to you! We’ll give you ten, count ‘em, ten extra paid vacation days!

 

Um, thanks? So we have an extra two weeks of vacation but we have less money to enjoy them with. What do you expect me to do? Vacation time doesn’t pay my bills, folks.

 

First payroll admits they didn’t process my return to work paperwork on time, and delays my check for two weeks. Thusly, I’m going a full month without pay. Now this. My loyalty to this company is plummeting.

 

I’m not sayin’ I’m gonna up and quit. I need all the moolah I can get. But if something better were to come along….Let’s just say it won’t be a hard decision, y’know?

 



If they’re going to do this, they should at least let us drink at work. It’d make my collection process more interesting.

 

So, yeah…..HAPPY MEMORIAL DAY WEEKEND TO ME.

 
 

-Weird things make me happy. Like having exact change. Or waking up at exactly 6:30. Or when I fill up my tank and it's exactly $20.00. I think I should've included this in the Quirks blog for Jen.

-In a roaringly funny twist of karma...Joe hates cats. Joe moved into his Aunts house. Who just happens to have five cats. Karma's a bitch, aint it?

-I've found that my office scarily imitates The Office. Down to Dwight. (Shudder)

-If I'm paperclipping shtuff together, I have to have all the same color paper clips. I'll root around until I find what I need or choose a different color.

-Letting Pook sleep in our bed from 0600 hours until 0730 wasn't a great idea, because now we've created a monster. One that will sleep in her own bed tonight. If it kills me.

-When unpacking, unpack underwear first!! Cannot stress this one enough. There's nothing like rooting around in a box for 20 minutes trying to find panties when you're already late for work.

-Texting an April Fools message, "So I just tested and yeah...We're pregnant again" to the BF who doesn't want more kids isn't the smartest idea.

 
 

Seriously, moving sucks.

You never truly realize just how much crap you have until you move.

"OOOH! I've been looking for this!" (Dude, you haven't missed it in a year, chances are you're not going to miss it now.)

Bry had this week off, so he was going to move us. It's the end of the month, which around my office is nothing short of bedlam, so I couldn't take any time off.

I picked up Pooker and drove to the new house. There's crap everywhere. Not like, the kitchen stuff is in the kitchen, bedroom stuff in the bedrooms...Nope. It's all in one big pile in the living room. Which wasn't that big of a deal. I was told to keep Pook entertained while he made a final run to get some other stuff.

Problem number one: Pook only slept for an hour yesterday, so she lived up to the moniker Princess Pissy Pants. She didn't want to be in her bouncy, but I couldn't let her crawl around with all the crap on the floor. She wanted a bottle, for all of three seconds.

I tried just putting her in the bouncy while I tried to unpack at least the wall décor, because that's my forté. (I can decorate like nobodies business.) That went well until I realized I had no nails to hang aforementioned décor.

Out came the Crackberry, and hellooo mobile web! So, Pook and I nestled in on the couch while I got her to sleep.

Of course, Joe was helping Bry and he just had to make snide comments. Dude, get the hell over it. You're in your midthirties. God forbid you have your own place, and your own car. (For the record, he's moving into a family members basement. Still no car.)

The main reason I was sold on the house was the incredible master bathroom. A shower stall! Side by side sinks! Marble countertops! And, the coup de grace, a HUGE marble sunken tub with armrests!

I had planned on taking a nice, long, hot bath to relax before I went to bed. An initiation of the house, if you will. The tub, apparently, won't.

For one, the water pressure from the faucet is a joke. I for one, am not about to wait 30 minutes while this thing fills up. Turns out, I didn't have to worry. Because it won't fill up. The house has a 50 gallon tank. The tub fills up about 25%. Damn. There goes that idea.

It was then that I discovered problem numer two. Um, Bryan, did you grab the towels and the bath mats? Yeah, okay, can you grab me a mat and a towel? I know I should've grabbed them before, but I didn't so how about helping me out? Or I can just stand here dripping water onto the floor and I'll go to bed dripping wet and roll around so you have to sleep in the wetness, too. That's what I thought, thanks for the towel.

Getting dressed this morning was also fun! I got a hot shower, (for about five minutes). And then I remembered all my clothes, my socks, my underwear, everything was either in boxes or bags. So I spent about 30 minutes ripping into stuff, until I finally found Granny Panties, sweat socks, and something semi-decent to wear to work. Have no idea where my blow dryer ran off to, probably ran to Mexico with my slut of a curling iron.

But! I saw a spider! I didn't scream! (Much.) So, it's not all bad, right?



 
 

For the last three days, I’ve played personal ass to my Sales Manager, Gerald.

 

Apparently, Sunday night his wife washed his pants and his Bluetooth was in the pocket. He asked if I would go get him a new one. Sure, not a problem. I didn’t know then that jinxed myself.

 

I went to one store, they’re not an official store so they couldn’t. So I ran to the mall. They can do it, but a manager has to get into that system, and he won’t be back until 1500. That won’t work, I’ve got to get back.

 

So I go on Tuesday, and go to the mall. Yay, the manager is on duty! Wait, what do you mean you can’t do it? No, the account holder isn’t here, I know that. He’s listed as being where? Connecticut? Well, what do you want me to do, fly him here? Yeah, sure, I’ll put it on my card.

 

I tell Gerald and he thanked me, asked me to sync it up to his phone. I said fine, holding the receipt. “Was there something else?” “Um, yeah, I had to put this on my card since I couldn’t charge it to the account.” “So you want me to pay you back?” WTF?! Uh, yeah, I kinda do! “Oh, well, just expense it for me then.” No, I don’t want to wait six weeks. You’ll pay me back by the end of the week.

 

But, alas, my quest wasn’t over. No, he didn’t like the earpiece. And in the wind the sound quality sucked. No shit, moron. Every headset sucks in the wind. I’m sorry, what? NO, I’m not going to trade with you! Le sigh. Yes, fine, I’ll get you a new one. But you’re giving me your corporate Amex. (Brave man, by the way. Giving me a credit card & telling me not to shop is liking setting a mirror full of cocaine in front of an addict and telling him not to snort.)

 

So, I return his Bluetooth and head over to WallyWorld, where it’s cheaper. I find out I can’t put it on his card because he’s not here and how do I know you’re not attempting identity theft, ma’am? You. Are. Not. Serious. Look, moron, I’m wearing a Bluetooth, see? Why would I buy another one? And seriously, if I was going to steal my bosses Amex don’t you think I’d do a bit more damage than a $60 Bluetooth at Wal-Mart?! I’d be in Nordstrom, stocking up for a new spring wardrobe. Yeah, fine, I’ll put it on my card.

 

But he doesn’t like that one, either. It takes two hands to put on, and it takes longer. Oh, no, the horror! Are you freaking kidding me?! It takes half a second longer! Get some patience! “I look like a girl with the sparkly silver stuff on it.” Dude, it’s an etched design, it’s not as if it’s covered in pink glitter. NO, I’m not going to return THAT one. Try it for a day, at least. What’s that, Gerald? Sigh, yeah, if you don’t like it you can have mine. Grrr. But you still owe me.