Office Time Murdered

Waste
I am in a very ridiculous mood. Disenchanted perhaps? I don't know. I think the hip young person terminology circa 2003 would be that I'm simply not feeling it. I am at work, retooling some UAT documentation, wishing I had an interesting task before me, and feeling bored and lonely.

Murdoch and I talked last night. I pissed him off by accident when I failed to use a gender specific pronoun when I texted to let him know I'm going to a rodeo on Saturday evening. I said "with someone from work" rather than "with a woman from work." Honestly, I said "someone" because the circumstances are silly and borderline creepy. I all but accosted this woman in the hallway, asking if she was So and So. She said yes and asked who I was and I had to explain that oh no, she doesn't know me, I just remember her from when she came to the Columbus office a couple of years ago. Why the fuck did I do that? Just to confirm that I remembered her name? That's creepy. But we chatted a bit and she said she'd like to go to the Mesquite Rodeo, I sent her a link and next thing you know, Bob's your uncle and I have $62 on my desk to give to her for my ticket (good seats and free food and booze).

But that is neither here nor there. Murdoch and I started talking about how you can't see yourself the way others do. Or else, he called me and started teasing me and telling me I was insane to believe that pictures weren't really what we look like or that pictures are the same as a mirror's reflection. I fought my side pretty hard. We weren't having an actual argument and it was all playful but I suddenly found myself really wanting to prove that I was right. In fact, I just took a minute to google various words yet again only to be met with defeat (FYI: If you type "Pictures" into the google bar, the first or second suggested phrase is "of herpes"). It was fun, even though it turns out I was wrong, and it was nice to actually hear from him for a change. On the phone and everything. I know, right? All fancy with my walking talkie box.

So that was that.

Now I feel flat and empty and annoyed. I feel weirdly hopeful as well. I guess it's a sense of baseless anticipation, like something good is going to happen any minute now and I'm just waiting for it only who the fuck knows what is going to happen next?

But at least I killed a few minutes. Back to whatever it is that I do. And a trip to the ladies because I have been drinking cup after cup of water. 

Girl Brain (or Mind Fuck)

Can someone please explain the evolutionary advantage to "girl brain"? Murdoch and I got into a huge fight in the middle of last week. When he gets stressed out, he totally shuts down and I don't hear from him. In this case, I hadn't heard from him for over 48 hours. I wanted to ask if he needed a break but I couldn't because I am incapable of expressing myself emotionally. Seriously, I have a semi paralytic fear of asking for help or telling someone what I need. So I mentally stutter and shit comes out wrong so I said "I think we should take a break." He took that to mean a break up, got pissed off, said some nasty things, wouldn't listen to me, etc. I didn't handle myself tremendously well because I was trying to express my needs whilst simultaneously explaining that I understand that his life is super stressful right now, etc.

We made up, things were tepid, and he invited me over for Saturday evening. Then he got really sick and I've barely heard from him this entire week. So I know he is sick and I know he shuts down but, because he is so unresponsive, I feel stupid and I'm doing that girl brain mind fuck obsession thing. Obviously he's gone off of me and my relationship is over. That's clear. You know, regardless of the fact that Murdoch is the kind of guy who would just tell me it was over if it was. Nah, the guy who is extremely blunt and direct is suddenly passively aggressively sending me a message.

Girl. Brain. Mind. Fuck.

I have seriously lived out an entire relationship in my head in the span of thirty minutes because of girl brain. How is this at all advantageous? How is that going to aid me in my biological pursuit of propagating my unique genetic profile? "Mmm, you know who I want to make babies with? An insane girl who lives in her head, is afraid to talk about how she feels, lives in an imaginary world in that girl brain of hers, and is utterly neurotic. That shit brings the boys to the yard."

Tits and I talk about girl brain a lot these days. I've got whatever is going on with Murdoch and she is forging ahead into the world of online dating. We are great at reassuring one another and then, when we say goodbye, we both go back to the self torture and self doubt. Stupid girl brain. Do men have a boy brain that fucks with them? I find that doubtful. Then again, what I don't know about men could fit into an old fashioned, hard cover, complete set of Encyclopedia Britannica so, you know...

Seriously, it's a labyrinthine and vicious circle of madness. Murdoch is sick so he has to cancel with me. Bummer, but totally cool. Murdoch gets sicker and I don't hear from him much. That sucks but you know, people get sick. Murdoch remains sick and his youngest gets it. Shit, that fucking sucks. I can't imagine dealing with a four year old who is super sick because kids don't know that it's going to get better (and that it will happen again). Still don't hear from the erstwhile boyfriend and start imming with Tits about feeling neglected and clingy and ridiculous. Start feeling like a suffragette for my own cause and make promises to myself. Get pissy about how sex with Murdoch was really fucking good and it is annoying to no longer have the attention of someone who was really fucking good. Start feeling like a complete asshole because everything but the facts that Murdoch and his son are both ill and that Murdoch does not text much when he is ill apparently, is totally made up by girl brain and I'm torturing myself for no reason.* What is more, Murdoch's kid could be on a fucking ventilator or something and here I am, being pissy because he hasn't been chatty. That, too, is courtesy of girl brain.

No wonder solitary confinement is a punishment. 

Not that I want babies, mind you. It's just that the closest thing to a reason for life that I know of is breed-to-keep-the-species-thriving one. And, as I asked as to the evolutionary advantage of girl brain, I had to use babies in my example.

In other news, because I refuse to just have a post about how I'm insanely insecure, I finally started reading again. I think I stopped for about two weeks but it felt like an eternity. Today is Independence Day and I am very appropriately reading a biography of a very patriotic individual who risked life and limb for country. Granted, Christine Granville was a beautiful Polish woman who, during World War II served as a spy for British intelligence, but still, patriotism is patriotism. I keep coming across names that I have no clue how to pronounce and think "I'll ask Magneto at work how to pronounce this" because Magneto is Polish and I guess that is what you do when you know someone from a different country. Ask them stupid questions.

Also, and I'll end with this, I had a status meeting with my boss recently. She told me, in the very kindest of ways, all the things I'm doing wrong and all the things I need to think about when it comes to my work. That sucked pretty bad but she made it clear that she wasn't expecting me to know everything and she offered to hook me up with some resources. One of the things I do wrong is the way I write business specs, the language I use. Well, not really. I wrote this one spec and I just wrote the way I normally do because it was a retrospec and no one was going to have to read it so it didn't matter what language I used. I didn't say fuck, shit, cunt, etc. or anything. I just mean I used terms like erroneous and whilst. My boss told me that she had been entertained by the spec and that she was well aware that I wrote with flare and had a real appreciate of language and words but that it was better suited to a book or a blog, not a technical document.

I thought that was fun. I had no idea I was being entertaining. 


*Well, the sex being fantastic is also a true fact.

A little bit of this, a little bit of that

Let's Get Serious for a Moment, Shall We? 
In yet another instance of my being frightfully stupid and absent minded, I had to take Johan to the vet to get his little pig claws trimmed. I say that is evidence of my stupidity because why the hell didn't I have them trim his claws when I had him boarded during the power outage?

One of my favorite bloggers linked to this article, which I spent the morning reading before taking lord and master to the vet. I never really had a firm idea of where I stood on the death penalty. On the one hand, I think pedophiles should be killed by firing squad. I also think locking someone away for the rest of their lives is cruel. But then, how is killing someone considered justice? And quite frankly, who am I to determine who should live and who should die? If I were faced with the choice I think I'd take death over prison. But a) do you ever really know until you are faced with the actual decision? and b) what is good for the goose isn't always necessarily good for the gander. Now, however, after reading that article, I can say with firm conviction that I oppose the death penalty.

See, sometimes it isn't all guinea pigs and bitching about stuff. Sometimes, on some rare occasions, I do actually use my brain.  One last comment on that article; if you read it, you'll notice it is from 2009. Do you ever think about how much information is out there, how much literature, fiction, non-fiction, and just data is out there and how much you never see? Sometimes, when I'm in a book store, I look at all the books in the fiction section and wonder if each one will actually be read. Then I wonder what the sound of one hand clapping is and zone out...

Things Change and Stay the Same

I've always taken that sentiment for granted, just another meaningless cliche. And it is but it's also like "a stitch in time saves nine" and I finally understand it (embarrassingly, I think I was 19 when I finally understood a stitch in time etc.)

So, I have a new boss, which is the change, and it's occurred to me that I don't think he has a clear understanding of what it is I do, which is same old same old. He also keeps promising to get me help and talks about change but nothing happens. He's a good guy and he does actually communicate with me but I feel like he is moving too fast and not understanding that we can't just "make things happen" but that we need to do things like talk to the executives and examine the budget to see if we can make things happen. He's the new head of my division and, unfortunately for us, his primary concern is growing our division so we still don't have anyone who is primarily responsible for helping fix the problems with our existing clients.

So, you see, things change and stay the same.

Finally...

The Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes divorce was settled rather quickly. Am I the only one who is disappointed? That sounds cruel but celebrities make enough money for me to not feel guilty when I enjoy their gossip. I wasn't hoping for acrimony or anything, but I did want some scandal about Scientology and maybe some "is he really Suri's father" allegations. Instead all we get are joint statements about working together to be good parents and reassurances that Scientology had nothing to do with it.

Maybe I'm just bitter because it took them something like two weeks to get divorced and it has been a year since J and I separated and we are still married. Meh, I don't think so. If I was in a big damn hurry I could divorce him pretty quickly. I just can't be bothered.

Well, here's hoping that more will come out about Demi Moore's daughters not talking to her.

Hey, like I said, these people are millionaires. And besides, we all know that half of what is said isn't true (if not way more than half).

PS

Seriously? I just checked my stats and someone came across my blog after searching for "fuck mature anal gym". Wonder what they hoped to find.

Whiz Bang

Today started out splendidly. I woke up early and got out of bed (well, off the couch as it were) by 6:30. I was packed for work and so decided to drink coffee and read the news until 7, when I got ready for work. Being up early, I took time with my appearance for a change, thinking about the outfit and even putting on makeup as I had a networking event scheduled this evening. I set off at about 7:40 and was feeling pretty optimistic.

Then I somehow managed to forget that the oncoming traffic had two lanes and so I tried to make a left turn and got hit by a car. Here, this is how it happened.

The accident was, obviously, scary. After all, someone smashed into the back of my car and I didn't know what was going to happen. Fortunately, I was fine as were the driver and passenger of the other car. The driver wanted to be mean to me at first, I could tell with his approach, but I was so helpful and forthcoming and deferential (I was shaking and just wanted it over with) that he ended up being nice to me. He was even nicer once I started crying uncontrollably whilst also apologizing for crying uncontrollably.

Nothing like a car accident to fuck up your day, especially when you are at fault. Unfortunately, he insisted on calling the police and I am incapable of lying to the police so I didn't try to say that I had the green arrow (if I had, no one would have gotten a ticket... but I didn't say that so I got a ticket) and received a citation that will cost me $126. That is one hundred twenty six more dollars than I can afford. And my car is banged up enough that I had to take it to a shop. I won't have any body work done but I need to have something or other fixed so that I don't end up in a worse situation on the highway. That will cost me many more dollars than I can afford as well.

But it is over for now. I've dealt with the insurance people (my car isn't a very good one so I only have liability) and I followed up with the other driver to ingratiate myself and to thank him for not being a total lunatic. Even though he seemed like he wanted to be mad, I appreciated his holding back and being calm and courteous in the end. The cop was super nice too. I think he felt really bad for me just because I couldn't stop crying.

I'll be working from home until I get my car back though I took personal time today, just because I couldn't focus on anything really. I'm extremely fortunate to have the ability to work from home even though I don't like doing it very often because there is no one to talk to or gossip with and the pig yells at me all day. But I'm grateful for the ability and will take full advantage of it.

The best thing to come out of this was that I finally made myself a Side Car utilizing this recipe from one of my favorite blogs. These are just as delightful as Her Laundress states and they certainly did the trick when I needed fortification. It is my new signature drink, replacing the Singapore Sling, and I plan on ordering it every place I go since I actually know how to make it. I looked up the measurements and it looks to be roughly 1 1/2 oz brandy, 3/4 oz Triple Sec, and 3/4 oz fresh lemon juice. Try it, seriously. Don't like brandy? Hardly noticeable (and I like brandy), at least if you use the kind I am, which turns out to be diluted.

Drive safely, children. You never know what idiot is on the road with you forgetting how many lanes there are.

Teenage Angst Revisited (or, how I feel today)

Blog Post Title

I set my alarm(s) for an hour earlier for this morning and I slept even later than yesterday, causing me to be late for work, yet again. During my drive in I thought "I need to win the lottery or become a kept woman ASAP." In reality, I just need someone to drag my ass out of bed in the morning. It might help, of course, if I could fall asleep at a decent hour. Remember that cross country, over the hills, and through the puddles run I took yesterday? Nothing! The next person to tell me that working out helps you sleep better is going to get punched because that shit is false.*

In even better news, I am officially broke. I actually have less than $200 in my bank account until next payday (which is 12/16) because my state's government doesn't take credit cards as payment for car registration renewal. If they did, I would have renewed for two years to take a break from my annual panic and dash to the DMV to renew one or two days before expiration. But this bitch could hardly afford the $54.some cents let alone $107.some cents. Come on Ohio, be cool. I mean, look how rad you are with letting me renew via internet or mail without any inspections! I mean, obviously that is beyond my ability to actually realize, getting it done without visiting your lovely hole in the wall offices, but you extend that opportunity to me. So why not take credit? Is that why Uncle Sam always dresses like a douche? He didn't have a credit card and couldn't afford some American Eagle Outfitters or Diesel jeans or whatever is popular to wear? Is American Eagle Outfitters still a thing? For the past four years I've shopped almost exclusively at Target and Kohls and I don't shop for men so I'm not at the forefront of what is hip for them**. That isn't the point; the point is that the Ohio government needs to accept my fucking Discover Card so that I don't have to panic whenever I check my bank account.

I will give OH one thing though: they do not mess around in their tag agencies. Granted, I usually have to go into one of the seedier strip malls in order to get things taken care of (seriously, there seems to always be a bar or a liquor store directly next store to the agency), but it is an in and out procedure. I think it took me all of fifteen minutes to drive to the place, complete my transaction, and get back to my office. I told my mother about it and she seemed really hung up on the fact that my registration expires on my birthday. She questioned it so much that I went out to my car to double check because I thought "well, fuck, I'm pretty stupid so maybe I've been freaking out annually for no reason." But ta-dow! it does expire on my birthday, biatch!***

Finally, these subcutaneous lumps from my subcutaneous shots? Yeah, they've over stayed their welcome. There are two hard ones (heh) on my right thigh and I'm steady pressing and rubbing on them like that will do anything (totally doesn't). What's more, I'm wearing a skirt today and I keep pulling it up to look at them and press them. It isn't that scandalous but I wouldn't call it office appropriate. And what if someone asks me what I'm doing? "Rubbing something hard and sore... it feels better than if I do it through my clothing." That doesn't sound suggestive at all does it?

Well, that was my ten minute break - back to the wonderful, magical, transcendent world of data entry for this girl.

* I also don't get a burst of energy after I work out so I'm not buying into any of that propaganda.

** Who am I kidding? I'm not on the forefront of hip for anybody and I never was. I actually asked a friend for help on the fancy man's jeans brand front and she had to call her husband because she's not exactly riding the train to cool kid town either. So they're wearing True Religion now, eh? 

*** Yes, I'm excited to find out I wasn't that stupid, as though the level of stupid that causes me to forget that I need to renew my registration by my birthday rather than Jesus's is a perfectly acceptable level of stupid.