Sunday, November 21, 2010
1: My guinea pig
2: The movie Knocked up
3: British Who Dunnits
4: Napping (oh my god I like napping)
6: Shrimp (to eat, not to keep as a pet)
8: Emma Stone
9: Fruit roll-ups
10: String cheese
15: British pound coins
And I'll end there. I like a lot of other stuff but figured I'd stop at a nice, round 15. That and my shrimp and fries are done.
Out like sauerkraut
Thursday, November 18, 2010
This week, I'm pleased to say, is nothing like last week. In fact, I would say that this week is the good twin of last week except for the fact that while last week was phenomenally horrific, this week isn't especially good. It's as though my expectations were lowered to such an extent that so long as no one pokes me in the back of the neck with a flaming twig, I'll consider it a fantastic day. Let's look at the facts shall we?
Work has not been overly stimulating or interesting lately. Mainly I've been filling the hours with some mindless data entry. Ages ago, the IT folks were tasked with creating a database in which one person, we'll call this person HQ, could have a centralized database to contain all information regarding independent contractors for all of the company's contracts and projects. IT doesn't take this very seriously so I've had to double enter items into this database from a pre-existing one since the two cannot communicate. As you can imagine, the task is as thrilling as it sounds.
See? There I am, typing away.
When not busy with this riveting chore, I've been dealing with the usual. You know, stupid people and shit I don't care about.
Both those things seriously happened this week. I received an e-mail from a freaking project manager of all people, stating that she was asked to obtain a specific object from a specific group of people and she wanted to know how to do so. Apparently, the concept of "contact said individuals and request the necessary object" is not something this person could even begin to wrap her mind around. Instead, she had to contact me, in an office at least 500 miles away, to intermediate. I feel like I am red tape in this instance.
At home isn't any more exciting. I've taken the week off from the gym and, while I have picked up Jane Eyre, which I am thoroughly enjoying in tandem with some Adam Dalgliesh novels, I've mainly been drinking red wine and watching boring television.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Thursday, November 11, 2010
On Sunday my mother called to ask me to lend her $3,500. My husband called her and made her cry, thus necessitating my calling to smooth things over.
On Monday, my mother called to say that she wanted to fly to Columbus next month to be here to celebrate my 30th birthday with me. I was put in the awkward position of being the adult and explaining that it would be madness to spend an absurd amount of money when she obviously didn’t have any. I cried all through my ride home from work because it broke my heart that I had to be the one to sacrifice and stand up and be reasonable when it’s my birthday. Both of my brothers got to have our mom with them on their 30th birthdays and neither one has ever been asked for money. Just me, the baby of the family, the one who was kicked out at 18.
On Tuesday I received my mother’s reply to my e-mail in all of its self-pitying glory. I was right, she said. She couldn’t look J in the eye anyway, now that he knows about her financial difficulties, she said. But she is never the practical one so she would, she stated, still feel so upset that she couldn’t be with me on my day. Nothing about how I might feel. I cried all the way home from work, shouting out loud all of the things that I was upset about, letting it all out in one cathartic commute.
And today, Thursday, I find out that a job opening that I’ve been interested in is not quite what I thought it would be. Half of the job description is half of my current position, the half that I love and that I’ve built up and turned into what it is today. So I will have to apply for my own fucking job and just hope that I can get it and that it will pay enough to make the more worthwhile. Otherwise, I won’t simply be stuck in my current job with a colleague I despise and another that irritates the fuck out of me, but I’ll also have to train someone else to do the fun and stimulating parts of my job.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Sunday, November 7, 2010
I called my mom from the grocery store since it was on my walk to said store that I received the message. She was a bit affronted by the fact that I assumed something was wrong and assured me that it was nothing serious. But it was... my mom needs me to get a cash advance of $3,500 0n my credit card. I asked what she had gotten herself into and she assured me that it is just that she is behind on bills; she is just her usual self, not any good at all with money.
I am disappointed. I'm disappointed that life hasn't turned out well for her at her age (63), that she has to put up with taking care of her mother who is nasty as hell to her, and that she has yet to learn. She didn't ask either of my brothers. I knew that, even before I asked. With M, the reasoning is, officially, that he is a teacher who just, essentially, lost his house. The real reason is that M is like mom and bad with money and makes really poor decisions so that his wife is a stay at home mom even if they can't afford it. With S, my eldest brother, the official reason is that there are medical bills because his wife lost her leg to cancer last December and has been recouping since. But his father in law has $50 million dollars so the real reason is that this is S and you can't ask him for anything.
But Cat, the youngest, was the one who was raised to be an independent and responsible adult. Cat is the one you can rely on to help you out and to have the ability to bail you out.
I am disappointed and concerned. J is pissed off and wants to start a fight. My mom, I believe, is ashamed and desperate. I texted J and told him that if he hadn't already ordered the present he had in mind for my 30th next month, to just not do so. I'll have to really buckle down and budget up if I am to bail my mother out again, especially if J is not on board.
I assume that this is what adulthood is all about. In some ways, things really do get easier, but, in others, they get harder than you can ever imagine. Thanks for the fork in the eyeball life.