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2007-01-09 - 7:26 p.m.
Considering the huge amount of the transitional stuff Lumbergh failed to discuss with me before I left, I find it painfully ironic that when I finally heard from him with a question this morning (via email), it would pertain to something that was of the absolute lowest priority. On one hand, I shouldn't be surprised. This is Lumbergh we're talking about after all. On the other hand, of ALLLLLLLLLL the many things I did there, THAT'S what he decides to ask me about? WHAT THE FUCK? And me being me, it hit a sensitive nerve because that was the only thing I hadn't been able to wrap up as planned. Maybe from his end it was a "hey, what's this? I'll email her and find out" (no biggie). Then again, considering how many other questions they probably had for me during the last 6 business days, that they apparently figured out without bothering me, why all of a sudden pop up with this piece of crap? Is it a coincidence that it was the only thing left undone? At any rate, I'm know I'm talking in circles and I'm WAAAAAY too upset about this since I NO LONGER WORK THERE, but it felt like being on vacation and having the boss call while you're lying on the beach, to ask where you put the AA batteries. It was too much of quick snap back to reality and THAT ENVIRONMENT for me. Which I was just getting out of my system! Didn't help matters that I'd already had a pot of strong coffee when I saw the message around 1 pm (I usually drink half caff, but I got some special Millstone stuff for Christmas), so I was wired and shaky, AND exhausted because I had trouble sleeping last night. What I thought would be a quick two minute email check before I took an afternoon nap, turned into 15 minutes of pacing and staring at the email muttering "You have got to be kidding me, you bastard!" over and over. Then I spent 30 minutes composing and editing a reply with just the right tone (I hope), and enough details (probably too many) to explain "the status," and for good measure, added in why I hadn't been able to finish the data entry as originally planned. Because I felt, like a complete paranoid nut, that underneath his question lurked the real question of "why the hell did she leave half these pages undone?" All I could think about the rest of today was THAT'S what my boss will remember. Not everything I did, and how well I did it, but that ONE STUPID UNIMPORTANT CHUNK OF TEDIOUS BULLSHIT that I was too busy to finish. Instead of trying to explain my reply, I shall post it here, with names changed for your reading pleasure, and for national security reasons:
Whew. Yeah, I know. I went overboard. But tossing out some "Duh, figure it out" toned reply didn't seem right. And I wanted to try to preemptively answer any questions that might pop up while he was reading, so I included additional explanations, so we didn't have to go back and forth seventeen times. Then, to my complete horror, I sat by my computer fiddling around for nearly an hour waiting for his reply. Would it be "Thanks, Halo" or "Oh, that's what we thought" or the absolute worst: "Funny you say you didn't have time, considering all the web surfing I discovered you used to do"? (Yeah, but that was BEFORE I turned in my notice, fuckface. I barely had time to read the headlines on MSN those last two weeks). But you know what he said? NOTHING. Because he never wrote me back. Thanks a lot, asshole. I should send him an invoice for my time. Ya know, I'm sure he's busy and whatnot, but this is the guy who carries around a Blackberry and checks his email from home (even when he had that awful stomach virus), so "Thanks" is the LEAST he could write back. Around 2 pm, I finally logged off, tried to nap unsuccessfully, then got up and cleaned the bathroom sink and toilet. Fucking-scrubba-dubba-Goddamn-scrubba-dubba-Bastard! I called mom to rant. At dusk, I tried to nap again, but wound up half watching/listening to "Coal Miner's Daughter" while rolling about on the bed with a headache, thinking about hamburgers. (But the meat ain't defrosted, Doo. Well get your igorant ass up and have some of that there chicken you cooked last nite, Loretti!) The phone rang. FINE. I'm UP. As I flung open the fridge, and heard him hang up without leaving a message, my brain went into Terminator time warp mind-fuck question mode: Why is he trying to call himself...from home? Why does he keep using the wrong area code? Wait. He's trying to call himself, and he can't get the area code straight, and he's calling me, but he's really trying to call there. To himself. Home. But he's home, calling me. What? Fuck, whatever. I'm hungry. After I finished off the leftover chicken, I logged on again to write this entry, wondering if perhaps there was a reply from wonderfuck ex-boss. Nope. So now my email is hanging out there in cyberspace without a reply (can we just end this already?) and all I want to do is bash his brain in with an ice axe for RUINING MY DAY. And a lot of other days, might I add. Also, I'm now intensely curious as to whether they've found a replacement or not -- and how that's all working out for them. I know, I know. I need to shake this off. Ain't nothing but a thang. (Tossing head from side to side, jogging in place, punching the air with jabs o' fury. Off in the distance a voice calls: "Hey, Rock-o!") YO! Now back to my reguarly scheduled laxy life. Sorta kinda. I was up before 9 walking the dogs, then ran out to dump yet another load of trash (I be messy!), checked the mail from yesterday (I be lazy!), drove to the bank to make a Christmas deposit from mom (I be broke -- till later this week when my distribution check comes in), then stopped off at the gas station across the way for diet coke, beer and cigs (I be ready!) You see, we were supposed to have a day filled with rain and snow showers. Should've been a cozy day. But we only got some cold gusts and few brief flurries. Hmmmmpppffff. On Sunday I completed a big round of cleaning, so the apartment is in decent shape, and I've been able to focus more energy on organzing this and that. One of the best things is finding things I'd forgot I'd bought. I uncovered several pairs of pants and shorts and a couple shirts I'd purchased way back in June (before my vacation), that I never got around to hanging up or...wearing. Cool beans! And yesterday, when I sorted all my spices in the cupboard above the microwave, I was astonished to discover 4 shakers of Italian Seasoning (Yo!), 3 shakers of chili powder (Yow!), and 2 big containers of onion salt (WTF?) Plus, I was able to determine that I was getting low on minced onions and black pepper. I scribbled those down on my running grocery store list. And before I buy another jar of Miracle Whip, I need to organize my pantry. I betcha there's a squeeze bottle back behind the Hungry Jack mashed potatoes. You know, while I'm at it, I best clean out under the bathroom sink before I run out to purchase another can of shaving foam...or another tube of toothpaste, or another value-sized jar of personal lubricant. I mean, Noxema. Just checking to see if you were paying attention. *wink* And there's no telling what wonders my bedroom closet holds. Practically everything BUT clothes. Boxes upon boxes of stuff! But that, I shall save for last. It's the mountain of all mountains of clutter and crap in this joint. It's also full of various memorabilia, some of which is on the pricey side. Lots of posters and prints (autographed) and neat, unique collectibles. One thing I've been thinking about is gathering up everything that needs to be framed, and sorting it out by what I could do myself on the cheap (buying a basic frame or frame/mat for the small to medium stuff) all the way up to the items that will require (deserve and demand) professional framing. Right now, I'm looking around the walls of my apartment, from the interesting spaces created by the high sloped ceiling in the living room, to all the white space that runs on either side my staircase as you walk up the long flight of steps. I never put any photos or prints on many of the walls because I didn't have enough to go around. Yet I don't want to overdo it so it winds up looking like a T.G.I.Friday's. But there are so many items I've wanted to frame, that are stored perfectly safe in boxes, or rolled up in tight protective cardboard containers that I haven't seen since I purchased them 2, 4 or 10 years ago, that want to look at. Every day. I certainly can't afford to frame everything right away, even with a year's worth of discount coupons from Michael's, but I sure could bring out some of the smaller stuff and get started. And I'll admit it, I kinda want the staircase area to be filled with an interesting array of framed stuff. Posters and prints and photos and shadowboxes. I have a feeling I'll either love it (this is ME!) or hate it (too claustrophobic/too MUCH!) That's why God invented Home Depot and spackle. A month ago, six months ago, a year ago, I was happy those walls weren't completely filled with brown spots from the dogs shaking off after romping in the rain and mud. The thought of framing a whole bunch of neat items I'd collected (that I would have SORT THROUGH first), then hanging it up all decorative like? Ugh. I'm too tired. I can't afford it. Even if I could, why bother? Now I think, Why not? I believe I've found the key to life: Don't worry about the grass on the other side of the fence. Smoke the shit you've got. It's alllllll good, baby. Pass the cheetos, dude.
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