and i wouldn't even wear gloves

It is Friday, finally. I've only been in the office three days this week, but they were long days. Long days filled with incompetency and drama. But, the week is on an upturn because the office is very skeletal today. Only myself and one other staffer, plus a student worker for half the day. It's like I won the lottery (and not the lottery where your friends and neighbors stone you in the middle of the town square, but a lottery where they give you free money!).

I've been getting so much done, it makes me want to work alone every day. Human interaction is overrated. People suck. Every day. Everywhere. And they can't be trusted to perform up to their abilities. And if they can, their abilities are often sub-par. Every day. Maybe not all people, but oftentimes it is the people whom you rely on to get shit done so you can get your own shit done. But I digress, today I am alone without supervision, able to do my work in peace. I love you, Friday, and I wish you would come more often. I'd offer you tea and might throw in a foot rub, even though I think other people's feet are disgusting. That is how much I love you.

repair and maintain

I would like to report that the man and I have officially called a cease fire. I probably haven't mentioned it, but we've been a bit of a cranky-pants couple lately, bickering and hurling insults and irrationality like monkeys throw shit at each other. Obscenities have been used: not quite sparingly. And not in a loving way. We've both been stressed out with work and whatnot, and have been sharing that pent up nastiness with one another. And I repeat, not in the fun, naked kind of way.

This weekend was an opportunity to spend some time together and to let the work worries melt away (along with various parts of my skin, as I seemed to get burnt by both the sun and the oven all in the same three-day span). The weekend allowed us the chance to realize that we weren't bitchy at each other, at least not to the extent that we thought.

While I would like to blame this sporadic arguing on the man suffering from a severe case of MANstration, I do realize that I am also partially to blame. In hindsight, my tact has been non-existent and I've been bringing work home with me. And, did I mention, work has been hell lately. So...I've been bringing hell home with me. Dinner conversation usually went something like this:

The man: Please pass the corn.

Me: Some people are too incompetent to pass the corn. Some people can't pass you the goddammed corn until two weeks after deadline. Some people don't show up to work until halfway through the day and I'd like to jam cobs of corn into their eye sockets.

[Awkward silence]

Anyway, things are back to normal. My extended weekend gave me some distance from the stress associated with my job and the summer-like weather gave me a much needed boost from my gloomy perspective on things. I think we've even realized that we like one another enough to want to spend time together. Imagine that.

hiatus

I am taking a couple days of vacation to make the Memorial Day weekend EXTRA long. I am not sure if I will feel like posting during that time, so that's that. It is supposed to be gorgeous outside and I've got a ton of plans, most of which include avoiding either working on my thesis, lounging, or spending time outdoors...and not eating oatmeal. I'm giving that shit up for a while. I had a very interesting appointment with my doctor(s), but the results from that are yet to arrive, so I will have to keep you posted as the oddities explain themselves.

In terms of my long weekend (how long is it? 5 whole days of NOT BEING AT WORK), I actually have to take the time off from work because I can only carry over two weeks of vacation time and the end of the fiscal year is fast approaching...meaning I have to use 6 days before June 30. In other words, two more long weekends are in my immediate future. Yay!

Have a safe and happy holiday weekend.

and the winner is...

My nephew now has a name: Maxwell James.

I'm assuming he will go by Max and not M.J., as to avoid appearing too feminine or like a pothead.

naming of the shrew

The following is a transcript of a snippet from yesterday's conversation about baby names with my brother.

Me: what would you have named the baby if it had been a girl?

Brother: I can't tell you.

Me: but you told Mom after Brady [first nephew] was born.

Brother: we told Mom because we knew she'd forget. And she did.

Me: but I won't be having any kids so I won't steal it.

Brother: you'd probably use it for a dog, cat, rabbit, or whatever weird animal you people find next.

Me: I would so not use it for a rabbit.

Brother: we would never be able to name our kid that name if you used it for a pet.

Me: fine, I'll just name any new pets after your existing kids' names and then you'll be sorry. Then I'll call Mom and Dad and tell them that Brady was just licking his butthole, but I won't tell them that "Brady" is my pet and not their grandson.

Brother: I'm still not going to tell you.

Me: then you're just a dickface.

*Note: apparently you never outgrow the need to call your siblings stupid names when a conversation doesn't go your way.

anonymous

My brother and his wife had a baby today. He (the baby) doesn't have a name yet, but my brother has told me that the baby must have a name by Friday, when they are going to bring him home. If the baby were to commit a crime, now would be the time to do it, while he is still unnamed. Unfortunately, I don't think his tiny baby self could muster the strength to rob a bank right now, but he would definitely gain an edge in the favorite nephew category if he were to do so and to split his spoils with his wonderful Auntie Trish.

He kind of looks like an old man, all smushed and disheveled, like he has lived a hard life and walked up hill to school both ways.

The picture is of a somewhat grainy quality because it was taken with my brother's cell phone. I see a resemblance to my other nephew and to my brother. He's a baby, and thus not too cute at age 1 hour, but he'll grow into it.

Welcome to the family, unnamed baby!

don't piss down my back and tell me it's raining

It is finally spring. And with the spring, comes the rain. The rain from the sky and the downpour of work. Yes, I'm a bit peeved with my workload and that there is no end in sight. Did I mention it is spring? It is warm, and it is sunny, and it is hard to sit behind a desk and look outside with the knowledge that you will not get to enjoy it for many, many hours...and that when you finally do get to enjoy it you will be so beaten down by work that you will collapse to a writhing mess of insanity. This is me being optimistic. Hello springtime.

i don't normally do this...

As a general rule, I write very little about work. Mainly, because I don't want to get fired, even though no one from work knows of this blog. I have to do this though, because of the people in my division, I only know of a couple people who are not planning their escapes.


The chart below is a breakdown of how we are all feeling about our jobs these days, and the actions that we are taking:

I fall into the "can't afford to leave, but would like to" category. Argh...why must employers need a specific number of years experience? WHY?! Oh well, I will muddle through while complaining to my loved ones who probably already want to wring my neck for bitching about work.

It is not fun to work here anymore. Not that work has to be fun. But it has to not be a soul-sucking force in your life. But that is what it is. A soul-sucking force. For anyone who works here...with the exception of one person who will remain nameless. Everyone sucks and everything sucks. That is all I have to say.

one office over

To my colleague next door:

I can hear you listening to what sounds like porn. It is loud enough to be heard through the paper-thin walls. There appears to be groaning coming from your office. It is not you, I hope. It definitely sounds like it is coming from a computer. If it is not porn, I would be mindful of the YouTube videos you choose to watch on work time because you are making me more than uncomfortable. In the two plus years I since I began working here, I have chosen to believe you are an asexual being and now there are many frightening images in my brain. Because of the porn sounds. Thank you for that. Tonight as I jab a grapefruit spoon up my nasal cavity to try to rid those images from my memory, I will be collecting the tissues and delivering them to you tomorrow. I hope you like cerebral cortex.

Signed,
Trish T.

P.S. Due to the at-home surgical procedure I described above, I will likely be less productive for the duration of my time at work. But at least I won't have to think about what you were just viewing in your office.

i spy with my little eye...

This morning when I came into work there was a car ON FIRE in the parking lot next door. Totally on fire. It exploded. INTO FLAMES! It was about five minutes before the fire department showed up and extinguished the car, so I had a whole five minutes of excitement this morning. I know someone over in that parking lot was upset by the ordeal, but, c'mon...fire is cool and it is only so often that you can see a car ON FIRE.

f is for...

I went to a concert on Friday with a friend from work and her boyfriend. I was skeptical about the bands, neither of whom I had ever heard before. I must admit that I was pleasantly surprised by both (opening band: Paul and Storm, headliner: Jonathan Coulton); they were quite funny and the music was good. Here is a link to my favorite song from the night, First of May by Jonathan Coulton.

Really, you must listen to the song. Be forewarned that it is a bit explicit in terms of lyrics, but is a great song for all the springtime twitterpation that pops up around this time of year.

Happy May and here's to extracurricular outside activities!