1) Put a new jug on yourself, or
2) ASK SOMEBODY that has more upper body strength than a FIVE YEAR OLD to do it for you,

You will be banned forthwith from EVER DRINKING WATER AGAIN YOU LAZY FUCKING ASSHOLE.

Also:

“I’m a girl” is not a reason not to change the water. It’s a bullshit cop out that further promotes the fact that women are helpless pussies that might BREAK IN HALF under the weight of a 40 pound jug of water. Seriously. I’ve seen the purses you all carry around on those fragile little arms so just don’t go there.

You may view all of my rule changes here.

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Temp: My computer won’t come on.

I can see her computer from where I’m standing. It has lights on the front that are CLEARLY ON.

Me: It’s on.
Temp: No it’s not look. *moves mouse*
Me: Your computer has lights on and I can hear the disk spinning from here.
Temp: Oh. Well, how come this thing isn’t on then? *points to monitor*
Me: That’s your MONITOR.
Temp: Well my keyboard or nothing is working.
Me: When you hit capslock or number lock you don’t see lights?
Temp: Hits a random button, see, nothing.
Me: Capslock.
Temp: *hits it, looks at monitor* Nothing, see?
Me: The light ON YOUR KEYBOARD is on so it’s working.
Temp: Ohhhhhhh, but this still isn’t coming on.
Me: Did you try the power button?
Temp: Which one is the power button?
Me: *officially frustrated and completely over this conversation* The circle with the line through it.
Temp: *tries power button* Nothing,
Me: You should call IT.
Temp: Can you look at it?
Me: IT will be able to troubleshoot it for you.
Temp: Okay.

Five minutes pass. She’s on hold.

Temp: I’m still on hold.
Me: Did you check the connection to make sure it’s getting power?
Temp: Oh, no. *stands up, follows the cable TO THE COMPUTER* It’s plugged in.
Me: No, I mean is it getting power from the POWER CABLE.
Temp: Oh, duh. *giggle*
Me: *head desk*
Temp: Yeah, it’s all plugged in.
Me: IT will be able to troubleshoot it for you.

Boss comes over to say good morning.

Temp: My computer won’t turn on.
Boss: It’s on, see the lights.
Temp: I mean the monitor.
Boss: …
Me: …
Boss: Will you look at it real quick? I’m late for a meeting.
Me: *get up, walk to monitor, turn it around, push power cable completely into monitor, press power button, monitor turns on*
Temp: OH WOW! THANKS! I didn’t think to check there!

REALLY!? Because when I said CHECK THE POWER CABLE I meant, CHECK THE GODDAMN POWER CABLE!

&*#$%@*%

Welcome to my Thursday.

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Okay?

Good!

So work has been HELL. Like, actual flames and pitchforks and varying rings of suckage. Based on the people surrounding me I’d say I’m somewhere below the water in the 5th ring surrounded by a bunch of sloths… which is the nicest way I can find to say it short of yelling, “I’m surrounded by MORONS.” Which wouldn’t be very nice. Tempting, but not nice.

I’d go into more here but the LAST thing I need to add to the stress is to walk into work and find out I’ve been dooced so I’ll just say that I’m doing the work of 1.5 people, literally, and leave it at that. Like, my productivity last week was 167%. Individually. For the week. Hell.

Lets see, what else?

Last week we had our first 100 degree day here and SURPRISE! Our AC was dead. We woke up to a power surge a few weeks ago which fried the control panel in the oven (I was reminded we are still waiting on the part today when I went to turn on the over and NOTHING HAPPENED and I ended up ruining my potatoes trying to cook them on the grill) and we never thought to try the AC! We went through two agonizing, horrible days with no AC. I had actual sweat. Like, ON MY BODY. *shudder*

The guy came out to fix it Saturday and apparently the power runs from the breaker, to the furnace, to the AC. So it was actually the HEATER that was broken and it wasn’t allowing the AC to come on. Makes perfect sense to me! Actually it doesn’t but I pretended that it did when Ben explained it to me.

So YAY! We have AC!!! Except we’ve only had to run it for like, AN HOUR over the last few days, because as soon as the damn thing was fixed the temperature dropped and it was BEAUTIFUL outside.

Oh! Something good!

Really good actually!

Ready?!

We finally got to use our tickets for Beauty and the Beast! The tickets Cassidy’s Papa and Nana Cherie got her for Christmas. It was AWESOME. It’s so cute when Cassidy watches something like this and gets REALLY into it because she’ll start to mimic the movements of the people on stage. Generally, the LEAD girl. She did it during the Hannah Montana movie, and then this too. It’s like she wants to burn it all to memory and the best way to do that is to.. DO IT.

I never say anything to her or tell her to stop because if she’s THAT into something, I can’t help but get just as into from watching her. It’s awesome that stuff like that is still so magical to her because getting to see it through her eyes gives me a reason to be 9 all over again and in awe of Belle and the story.

So okay, it wasn’t ALL bad. Still, if you want to pat my head and tell me it’s okay I won’t discourage you. I might even offer you a glass of wine and a seat beside me on the couch to watch House. Only one though! Don’t be greedy!

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LEARN HOW TO USE SAVE AS, PEOPLE. Save it to YOUR folder on the shared drive, or YOUR hard drive. But don’t change MY FORM and then save it so that when I open them all in the morning, they are all WRONG.

GAH! So I come in this morning and before I even have time to grab a cup of coffee, OH LOOK! Somebody changed my form again! I happened to have that form sitting on my desk because it was a stat request and they all have pass across my desk so I can sign them before checks can be cut.

Me: Hey, coworker. I just wanted to let you know that the CB form is available in the S drive in a CB folder so you can use that one and save it to your own S drive folder or your hard drive.
Her: Okay?
Me: Well, you used mine, and I just wanted to let you know.
Her: No I didn’t.
Me: Oh, because my form has been changed and has all of your information on it.
Her: I didn’t use it.
Me: And the information from a patient account you worked yesterday.
Her: I didn’t use your form!
Me: Okay. Well somebody used my form and submitted it and then noted the account with your name then.
Her: I didn’t use your form.
Me: I have the form in my hand with your signature on it.
Her: …

So I password protected all my forms. Even the one’s I don’t really care about because: ACCOUNTABILITY. Apparently nobody has it any more and I’m creating a weak spot on my desk from continuously pounding my head against the same spot.

Over and over.

Daily.

*Title Quote: Robert Orben

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I always make an excuse and thank her for the offer but tell her no because I don’t want to “owe her one” and that is absolutely how she will take it.

So.

I go downstairs to the vending machine which the guy was filling up this morning… no Diet Pepsi. NO DIET PEPSI! In a building of 300 women! What the hell, Mr Vending Machine Guy!?

So I make Ceece get up and walk half way across the building with me to get one from one of the other Pepsi vending machines. NO DIET PEPSI! @&*##$&!

Ceece mentions another Pepsi machine downstairs in the Children’s Hospital wing and YAY! DIET PEPSI! I put in my 5 quarters, the machine roars to life, I actually do a little dance of joy… then it STOPS, spits out my 5 quarters and PUNCHES ME IN THE GUT. I stand there open jawed and wide eyed for a few seconds while Ceece backs quietly away and says a little prayer. Then I might have dropped a few f-bombs and flipped the machine off. And kicked it. Twice.

I just want a GODDAMN DIET PEPSI. And Diet Coke is not an option. NOT. An. OPTION.

The roach coach is outside but to get a Diet Pepsi from them I will have to run through POURING RAIN and dig through the ice with my HAND and that’s just not an option because I’m not sure that being wet and cold is REALLY worth it. Of course, this is where I made a completely wrong judgement call.

So I cave. I ask for a Pepsi from Needy Girl and stick it in the freezer and set the timer on the iPhone for 20 minutes to check on it so it doesn’t blow up and make a huge mess. Before the timer goes off, she asked me where Ceece and I are going to lunch today.

I feel like I just sold my soul… For a Diet Pepsi.

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Dear Wednesday,

Could we possible start all over again? Because so far, YOU SUCK!

Love always (except today),
Antigone

Lets recap:

5:15AM: SHIT! LATE! Check calendar on iPhone while rubbing sleep from my eyes… so much to do today. Bother. Grab jeans, shirt, brush teeth while brushing hair, grab apple and banana, run for the door.

5:30AM: Stop! Run back upstairs and kiss Ben over and over and over and over and over to make up for not being able to for the next four days. He’s heading to Park City Utah for a ski trip with some buddies.

5:40AM: Stop for RedBull. Sugar free, natch. It’s a weakness. And it keeps me alive till about 8:00AM.

5:45AM: WHAT. THE. FUCK is with all the traffic? This is why I leave the house at 5:30! Oh, hey! 101 North is still closed 12 hours after the gas spill so every idiot driver heading into San Francisco is doing so ON MY FREEWAY. Joy.

6:05AM: Only five minutes late. Tell The Boss right away that I CAN NOT train people today like I have for the last two days because remember that report you gave me on Friday to have done today? Yeah, remember how you pawned off this training crap on me Monday and Tuesday? Well I haven’t touched that report, or my mail, or my email and I have about 1000 voids to process and 10,000 requests sitting on my desk waiting for a signature so they can be processed.

6:06AM: The Boss starts to shiver a little and tells me he will find somebody else to pawn training off on.

7:05AM: Ben messages me to asks if I have the receipt number for his dry cleaning. I took his ski pants in to be cleaned and mended and was supposed to pick them up yesterday (he’s leaving today) and completely spaced it so he had to go this morning. And it’s like, 100 feet from our front door so not that big a deal… as long as you have the damn receipt!

7:10AM: Return 15th previously ignored voice mail, put out 7th fire.

7:20AM: Ben calls, Cassidy is sick, complaining of a belly ache, running to bathroom, no fever. Tell him to let her stay home but have secret plan to call at 8:15 and seeing how she feels. I assume she’ll be fine because she has my belly and after 30 or so minutes and a bathroom trip she usually starts to feel better. I plan on telling her to get dressed and head to school. If not I’ll call the neighbor and she can hang there for the day. Glad I’m one up on the favor tree!

7:35AM: Ben calls. The cleaners hadn’t mended his pants yet and the girl wasn’t in yet. FIGURES! The guy pays BEN $20 even though he was only going to charge me $4.00 and sends him to a nearby shop where they can do it quickly. I feel like an asshole for not getting there yesterday.

7:50AM: Cassidy calls me. WHILE she is throwing up. I tell her to put the phone down and finish… She does. I tell her to go get some water, lay down, I’ll be home as quick as I can.

8:00AM: Quickly finish up what I was working on, delegate the 1000 things I had to do today to my co-workers, head home.

8:15AM: SO GLAD I’m heading the OPPOSITE direction as the traffic now. 280 and 85 are more backed up then I’ve ever seen them. Even the carpool lane isn’t moving.

8:25AM: Call Ben, the girl at the other place was able to mend his pants but she wasn’t happy with the job she did so basically doesn’t want to make him pay. He insists she takes the full $20.00 for doing it so quickly. Ben has the best Karma Rating in the world. Tell him one last time that I love him, have fun, don’t break anything, GO FORTH AND SKI!

8:30AM: Get home. Check on Cassidy who is like, “HI! I’M FINE AND CAN I GO TO SCHOOL!? BY THE WAY, I’M STARVING!”

8:31AM: Press fingers into ears to prevent steam from releasing.

8:32AM: Walk into bathroom to clean up toilet. Oh look, she threw up IN THE SINK. And there is all is! STILL THERE. IN THE SINK.

*deep breath*

And now I’ve been watching Disney Channel and Nickelodeon for the last 4 hours cuddled up with Cassidy on the couch. She’s not 100% but whatever it was seems to be subsiding. I, however, feel a little piece of my soul dies as each 30 minute block of crap kid show ends.

How is your Wednesday going?

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At the same time I managed to avoid the 4000 pounds of metal, my LARGE McDonalds Iced Coffee flew into the air, did a complete flip, landed on my passenger seat and exploded into a coffee a-bomb. It filled up the cup holders, landed in my hair, left a film on the front window and pooled up on the floor under seat. It took me a full 45 minutes and an entire roll of paper towels to get it cleaned up enough that I didn’t STICK to the seat when I sat down. THANK GOD it was rainy and cold outside because I can only imagine what that would have smelled like after 8 hours of 100 degree heat in the full sun. *shudders*

So, the day can only get better after this, right??

WRONG!

SURPRISE! Major Medical University is REQUIRING all employees to get flu shots this year because JCAHO is an evil asshole. I can understand that the accreditation is important but I’ve never, in four years, EVER come into contact with a patient. I mean, we work a MILE off campus.

I wasn’t going to get one this year because even though the nurse SWEARS that you should not be sore afterwards, I always am. Last year my arm ached for THREE DAYS. This year when I went in I requested that they inject my left arm so that the arm I use to use the adding machine, answer my office phone and make sweet love to my iPhone would not be sore. I mean, I can go a few days without working or talking to people… but don’t get between me and my daily movie binge. Mother fucker.

Again this year the nurse SWORE to me that I’d not be sore since it’s my “off hand” that got injected. Yeah, she’s a lying ass bitch. My arm is sore from the injection spot all the way down to my hand, with the majority of the discomfort at the inside bend of my elbow. Why do they lie to you? Why not just say, “Yes, idiot, it’s going to hurt it’s a SHOT. Now roll up your sleeve and suck it up, pussy!” I’d honestly deal much better with that.

When I was in 2nd grade I broke my arm and it had to be reset. When I asked if it was going to hurt the doctor looked me straight in the face and said, “It’s going to hurt more than anything you’ve ever felt. But it will be fast and when I’m done it will stop hurting and it will heal the way it should.” And he wasn’t lying. When I look back now, it was second in pain level only to squeezing a human out of my vagina. But, at least he TOLD ME. I knew what to expect. In SECOND GRADE.

I’d say things can only get better at this point bit who am I kidding?!

Is it Friday yet?

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So last night I set my alarm clock for 4:30… PM! My body woke me up at what I thought was 3:09 on the cable box clock. This happens pretty much every morning, I wake up around 3:00AM, snuggle back into Ben’s warm body and fall back asleep. But this morning I kept starring at the clock because I fell asleep with my contacts in and the damn thing WOULD NOT FOCUS. So I roll over to look at the clock on the nightstand. It says 5:09. Wait. What? The damn cat must have waked across the alarm clock again and pushed the hour button so it’s ahead.. Stupid cat.

I figured better be safe than sorry though, forced a yawn to make my eyes water so my contacts would clear, look at the cable box again… 5:09. DAMMIT!

Okay. So I have two options. Option 1: Start dryer and hope to God the jeans dry the rest of the way in 25 minutes. Option 2: Wear a skirt. And option 2 wasn’t really an option because I’d have called in sick before I wore a skirt. Skirt… blech! *shudder*

So option 1 it is. I run downstairs and start the dryer then run back upstairs thinking I can just blow dry my hair tame enough to be presentable. I do this sometimes when it’s cold and I don’t want to wash my hair in the morning. I just blow it with hot air till it’s mostly tame then flat iron the honery parts. As I look at myself in the mirror for the first time though I want to spit in my own face. I have Pippy Longstocking style braids from yesterday. DAMMIT again!! No amount of blow drying is going to get it straight. And there’s NO WAY that I have enough time to flat iron… So I frechbraid it. And for ONCE I actually like to way my hair looks frenchbraided. The light and dark hair look pretty cool that way all weaved together. SCORE!

Okay, dress from the waist up, brush teeth, deodorant, perfume, makeup. My makeup actually looks pretty dang good considering the amount of time I had. I take a second to cherish my makeup and daydream about my Barbie collection on the way… then snap back into reality when I look down and it’s 5:37. DAMMIT! I need to be in the car and moving by 5:35 to be at work on time.

Run downstairs, throw open dryer, close eyes, reach in… they are hot! And dry! YAY!!! Throw on most favorite jeans, grab keys, open garage, run out door. My car is not in the garage!! DOUBLE DAMMIT AGAIN!! My car in on the street, all the windows are frosted up and it looks cold. Then it hits me… My pants ARE NOT DRY! They were just hot and FAKING!! My pants are, in fact, quite moist and instantly cold. Like, freezer cold. I consider for a split second calling in sick, climbing back into bed with Ben and forgetting Monday ever happened. Then I remember I’m a PTO Nazi and that’s out of the question.

I run to my car while making a giant middle finger gesture to the sky. It might have looked like I was flipping off God but really I was flipping of MONDAY. FUCK YOU, MONDAY!

As I got on the freeway I had wide open road and every single cell in my body wanted to run the M3 wide open. To cherish the feeling of acceleration, the roar of the motor through my intake, feeling every curve and bump in the road though my stiff suspension… letting the crappy morning fade away by the rush of speed. But something held me back and after taking the onramp with speed, I throttled down and let the car drift down to 67 and cruised.

About a minute and a half later the motorcycle that was a tiny spec when I got on the freeway in the car pool lane caught up and passed me. It was a CHP.

I take it back Monday, I love you. *hugs*

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Kelly has saved my sanity here at work for the last year. Seriously, without her there would have been days I came home with enough stress to fill the house, pour out into the streets and flood most of downtown San Jose. Instead, I just flooded the streets in our immediate neighborhood. This has been ESPECIALLY true for the last month or so as a series of events played out that really reminded me what it is I look for in a friend. Kelly is without a doubt, somebody I proudly consider a friend. She love me EVEN THOUGH I drop F-bombs, and am loud, and opinionated, and curt, and vain sometimes overly confident. She has reminded me how wonderful it is to have a true, genuine friendship. The fact this has happened in a building full of people I’d never associate with if not for the fact that I’m PAID to do so has been a fantastic bonus.

People like Kelly should be a reminder to us how important it is, as women, to get a mammogram EVERY YEAR. Get a pap smear EVERY YEAR. I know that these things are uncomfortable, and sometimes painful, and can be embarrassing, and scarry… but it is SO important. Kelly is a survivor. And in some weird twist of serendipity, her surviving saved my sanity.

I’ll miss you, Kelly. Don’t worry though, I’ll remind you how much you miss me in emails. Daily. Sometimes hourly. Probably more.

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Turns out I’m allergic to wheat. This might not even be what’s causing the hives but the only way to really find out is to cut wheat out of my diet, totally, for three weeks. Then I can reintroduce it and see if there’s a reaction. Reading through some websites quickly when I got home, this could explain A LOT. The tummy problems, tired rundown feeling at completely random times, hives…

So I’m gonna start Sunday with the wheat free diet. I had NO IDEA there was wheat in so may food products. It’s in EVERYTHING. It’s basically an Atkins diet. I’ve NEVER been fond of the Atkins diet because I like my heart and I don’t want it to kill me at 50. Skinny but dead doesn’t seem like a wonderful alternative to a tad chubby and alive to me.

Why Sunday, you ask? Because Saturday we are going to Tyrolean Inn and I HAVE to eat the yummy food…

This week at work has been long and hard. The Boss is out of town so covering for him, helping another team catch up with work they are behind on, having do deal with co-workers who have the work ethic of a retarded monkey and the fact that one of my FAVORITE co-workers last day is tomorrow has made me REALLY want for Friday to just. get. here. already. It really sucks that I can’t post work related stuff here because man, the comic relief…

Anyway, I’m exhausted so I’m off to give Ben puppy dog eye’s to 1) Convince him to come crawl into bed with me, 2) Let me have a kitten PRETTY PLEASE WITH A CHERRY ON TOP?!?

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