09.08.2002 - 11:51 a.m.
Right now I am avoiding the
lurking pile of laundry threatening to explode from the utility
room. I'm also studiously ignoring the wafting tangles of dog
hair that need to be removed from our comforter before they smother
us while we sleep. Oh, and the 200 bulbs I bought last week that
will surely require hours of back-aching digging only to eventually
disappear down the greedy gullets of the neighborhood squirrel
throng? Yeah, evading that little task too.
Sunday, Chore Day. Bah. I'll
just settle in front of my computer screen and bask in its warm
glowing warming glow, and catch up on the lives of total strangers
until JB finally barges in here and wants to know if I plan on
helping him at all today dammit.
Work has been stressful lately.
I drove home the other day bawling my head off, because as the
always-eloquent writer of Subsequent
Events puts it, "As always happens when I'm half-angry
and all the way hurt, I start crying." I recently experienced
some major conflict with Funky Boss, who happily is no longer
my boss but is merely Funky, and now after the flame war has
sputtered out, we're carefully tip-toeing around each other -
wary and suspicious.
Another one of my problems
is that I am 'managing' a graphics intern. He's maybe 16, and
artistically talented - but annoying as a 2 year old, and questions
literally everything I ask him to do. "Why? Why? Why?"
until I'm ready to shriek "BECAUSE I SAID SO!". Added
with my Funky problems, the constant battling and arguing and
sheer crappery is wearing me down, and making me vaguely long
for some black-and-white job where I stamp license plates on
a production line or something.
I bet you can never truly escape
annoying co-workers, though. I can just see it: "Please
stamp the letters and numbers on this side of the license
You know how stress can make
your back hurt, your neck ache, your head hurt, and stuff like
that? We actually have a masseuse on staff at Workplace. She
comes 3 or 4 days a week, and anyone who signs up can have a
one hour full body massage, gratis.
Do I get a healthy, relaxing
massage, ever? No, I do not.
It's mainly because my thinking
is this: of the many places it is awkward and strange to be naked,
one of them is at the office. Unless you're boinking a coworker
or something, and let me vigorously assure you, that does not
apply. I just can't imagine stripping off my clothes, all carefree
and not at all concerned that the massage room is not exactly
Fort Knox and any engineer could randomly fling open the door
looking for a USB cable or something and witness me en deshabille.
Actually, it occurs to me that
it would in fact be much more traumatic for the engineer involved,
so maybe I should chill out and get a fucking massage already.
So, I'm not much for stupid
diary tricks. Yes, I broke down and did the survey and all, but
here at Much Ado About Everything you'll never ever see 1) a
wishlist, because why should I assume you want to buy me things?
2) An icon that represents my current mood, because, you know,
hopefully my actual feelings and disposition are a smidge more
complex than a tiny GIF file can represent, and, gosh, can't
you tell by the entry what sort of mood I'm in anyway? (Today:
Rambling and Incoherent), 3) the term "LOL".
Instead, I promise you infrequent
entries of dubious quality, occasional bad code with broken links,
and today's blue light special: a pathetic plea for guestbook
I thrive on guestbook entries,
people, because that's the way, uh huh, uh huh, I like it. It
lets me know you're out there. Write me one, even if it's
just "howdy" or "Beef: It's What's For Dinner",
which would be weird, but hey, it's all good. Quid pro quo, Clarice,
I will sign yours too.
go back :::
comments so far.
I have moved. - 1.03.2005
Obviously, a work in progress. - 12.27.2004
Happy holidays! - 12.24.2004
Listen, I am not a complete dick, it's not like I want Joe to die alone surrounded by cats or something. - 12.23.2004
Plus I am convinced my butt is extra big when it's upside down. - 12.22.2004