When does it really start being you?

I've been contemplating this for awhile now - and I'm going to make every attempt not to make this a bitter, angry, rant. I said I wouldn't do that anymore and I want it to stay that way. That said, a person can only take so much nonsense until they just either 1) give up 2) break completely.

I'd personally rather not be in either camp - I think I'm better than that, however, it's hard when judgements against you are so personal.

I've held a lot of jobs. It's not because I'm someone who can't hold a job, or gets bored and leaves. It's generally a matter of circumstance: company changed management and therefore ideals and company structure, it was only temporary to begin with (see: internships, seasonal - summer work), I moved, I moved again, company was bought out.

Then this started to happen:
bar tending - mismanagement led to frustration, led to anger about job, led to me leaving

el banko - management ceased allowing me to make decisions about my career, led to frustration, led to anger, led to being stuck in a position I didn't want, led to endless talks about under performing - led to more frustration - led to me leaving.

Now this.

Sure it's only a part time gig - but sometimes those part time gigs are what allows you to buy that pint of Ben and Jerry's you could otherwise afford. Or what lets you take your puppy to the vet that you otherwise couldn't do. Sometimes a part time job is a very big deal when considering your check book.

But when do you throw in the towel? When has it become more YOU and less THEM? How do you know the difference?

A few weeks ago I was told some pretty horrific things by my manager. It was completely inappropriate and extremely unprofessional. Was it true? I don't know. I felt completely betrayed, confused and hurt. I essentially went through all the symptoms of loss. I was given a week to think about it.

Upon my return it felt like going into battle. Who was against me? How would I know? What was true and who could I trust? I had, and still have, apparently, no idea. I did, I thought, at least make an effort to keep certain attitudes in check, continue to be friendly with co-workers and members, and generally do my job and keep my mouth shut.

Still not good enough - once again I found myself in an office - door closed - face to face with my manager. Was it handled better? Sure... but there were the accusations again. Nothing had improved. Nobody wants to work with me and if they weren't telling me before it's because they are "chicken shit". I'm on a tight leash and one misstep would be my complete down fall. "It's only a matter of time."

So I'm being set up to fail? No...

How is that not being set up to fail? Waiting for someone to make their next "mistake"? How is it not expecting complete and total failure when it's your word (which at this point might as well be coming from that guy sentenced to prison for crimes against humanity) against all these mysterious people who want to bring you down?

When did what I have to say stop mattering and more importantly why?

"You've changed, you're not the same person you were a year ago." "You aren't the person we hired" "Maybe you're just a harder person now"

I don't think any of this validates what are apparently, non-stop co-worker complaints. Who are these people that have so much time on their hands that they can sit down with the manager of their part-time job and complain about someone they work with for 2-3 hours at a time? Do I have people I could complain about? Sure. I don't have that kind of time, nor do I care.

I've never been in the interest of gunning for someone to be fired. Clearly some people are.

But now, after three jobs of complete frustration and road-blocks, do I just accept that it IS me after all? Or do I chalk it up to bad situations, bad decisions, bad times, and put it all behind me?

It's easy to start being paranoid when nothing you've done for the last two years has been good enough. How is that even possible? How have I spent my whole life to this point striving to succeed, and doing just that, to just...not. How have I taken an active interest in helping others succeed only to have the "others" allegedly turn on me?

Nothing is making sense.

Perhaps it's time to cut my losses and move on - completely close that chapter in my life and just breath that sign of relief and terror. Relief that it's finally over...and terror that's IT'S OVER.

I'm not a quitter - and it takes a LOT to drive me to that decision. Usually it's because I'm determined to prove everyone wrong. There are no easy answers, and there probably will never be an ideal time to make that decision. Those things rarely align.

I think ultimately, once those people have made up their minds to bring you down, no matter how strong you are, and no matter how hard you fight against it, sometimes it's not enough. Is it right? No. Is it moral? No. How do you know when enough is enough? When do you chalk all this up to coincidence and a bad two year span, write the final chapter and call it a day?

Sometimes the best way to learn is to just let yourself go through it

Wow. So. Once again the drama is full force up in here. I'm sure you'd expect nothing less at this point. At least it keep the people entertained right? Everyone probably needs to know someone like that - if for no other reason then you can then breath a sigh of relief and be thankful that this crap doesn't happen to you - or at least on a fairly regular basis.

In short:
1) the Boyfriend started drinking again - which is BAD if you are an addict who, at one point, went to rehab for this.

2) It all came to a head on a Thursday night when I finally made plans to leave on Saturday. However, that night got so out of hand, it turned out FRIDAY was the big day.

3) By Saturday, all mt stuff was in storage and the essentials are with me at my mom's

4) Yeah - I'm 28 and I had to move back in with my mom.

5) My landlord would like me back in the house, but now the Boyfriend (I guess I should change that to EX - Boyfriend) won't leave. Never mind that I was the one paying all the bills before.

6) You know that song - the Counting Crows one? Long December? Guess who they were talking about - they just didn't know it yet.

Here's the thing - IT'S OKAY! For the last year a half I've been babysitting a 35 year old man - essentially. We were constantly cycing through these insane patterns of him being in control and then being dangerously out of control. When he went into rehab on his birthday in March I was thrilled.

I thought "THIS is why I stayed this whole time - I KNEW with enough support and love he'd realize he was worth this - that life was worth it"

I guess I thought he could be saved. From what I don't know - maybe himself.

And things were good from March until August. Until the day before my birthday. I had been waiting for the other shoe to drop and it finally had. I was completely devistated. The writing was on the wall and at that point I figured it would only be a matter of time.

Now, I know, there's nothing I can do. Even though rehab was his idea the first time, even if it is again, he's got too much else going on in his head. He's his own worst enemy.

At first it hurt thinking that he'll find someone else - because that's what people who are master manipulators do. They move on to the next person willing to put up with the drinking and drugs and deep dark depressions. Willing to change their entire life to make sure he can have a better one.

He doesn't want that though.

He doesn't know how.

I thought when his friend passed away - a friend he was in rehab with - it would be a wake up call. Apparently he still can't see the very real consequences of his actions.

So I'll end with this - it's a quote from a song that even though I had listened to this song many times before, I never picked up on this line specifically, until right before we broke up and I had to leave the home that I love:

"There's a pattern in the system, there's a bullet in the gun, that's why I tried to save you, but it can't be done. It can't be done. " - Emily Haines Our Hell

Warning! Here I go blogging about work yet again

I've been working since I was 15 years old. Actually, I was probably a bit younger. The point is, that at 27 years old, I've been working almost half of my life already.

That is nuts.

Since I started college in January of 2000, I've been working at least 2 jobs, at one point three.

That is also nuts.

Between all those jobs, I've probably worked at least 6-7 days a week and up to, and sometimes, more than, 14 hours a day.

I don't know what the math on all this is - quite frankly I don't think I want to know least I fling myself in front of oncoming traffic. What it means, though, is, when you take into account the additional jobs, the extra hours, the 6-7 days a week of work - I've probably been working as long as I've been alive.

You know, based on hours.

Yikes.

If I'm a little burned out at this point, who can blame me?

Oh - that's right. My current job.

I find this very disturbing.

I mean ok - I'm starting to get a touch worried, because obviously my frustrations at my two jobs, usual separate issues, are starting to more than, apparently, effect my work performance.

Up until I started working at El Banco, I never had any sorts of "performance issues".

Ever.

I'm not just trying to talk myself up here either. I literally mean this. The only other time a boss said to me that is seemed like I didn't want to be there was when I didn't want to be there. I was completely aware of this though.

I figured I was doing a pretty good job of adjusting.

I wasn't aware of any blatant issues.

That's when they pulled out the reports. You know, because the numbers never lie! Dang it.

Ah, yes. The numbers.

This would be where we take a RADICAL departure from any of the jobs I've had ever before.

I've never had to compete with the numbers. It was always just be doing my job. Now there are rankings, and percentages, and goals, and numbers.

This pretty much holds true for both jobs.

I'm held accountable for attain ting all these...numbers.

There are other things too: Why don't customers come in just to see you? Why aren't you shaking the hand of every Tom, Dick, and Harry to enter the joint? Why aren't you on the Valium we freely give out to keep our employees at the super extreme high we require?? Above all - have you seen these NUMBERS??
(P.S. I'm totally kidding about the Valium, but they might want to consider it. That's the only way I'll every be Miss Mary Sunshine Every. Single. Damn. Day.)

I'll admit - I'm a bit alarmed that within the span of a week both my jobs have brought my attitude into this. It's never been an issue before. While clearly I need to be keeping that in check, I think it says a lot too.

It says "I'm sick of working! I'm sick of having not only just regular job stress but the stress of meeting all these....NUMBERS!"

I went to college. I blasted through that joint in 4.5 years with a Major and a double Minor. I was BUSY! I know shit. But here's the thing...

I'd still rather just be managing an office. I'd rather be ordering office supplies and getting the CEO coffee. I like being helpful. I enjoy making other people's lives easier. I'm a damn good assistant.

Yet society expects MORE.

Apparently I just don't have that to give. Well - apparently, I should say OBVIOUSLY.

Right now I don't have any answers. I don't know where to go from here. I mean how do you suddenly start walking into the place that just berated you for your ENTIRE JOB PERFORMANCE farting fairy dust and rainbows?

I'm just not the bigger person like that. My immediate reaction is to get MORE gloomy and MORE angry and just do LESS of absolutely EVERYTHING they want me to do.

You know, recently, one of my former co-workers sent me a little e-mail showing all the products from "back in the day" when they used to put cocaine and heroin and all that just in like cough syrup. Now, I'm not saying we should all go around using street drugs. Trust me. I'm the VERY LAST person that will condone that. However, I do think we need come up with a product that for now is completely legal and will just kind of float you through your work day. Or better yet - just kind of make you unconscious - like you go to work and you're totally normal, but once you get done you don't remember any of it.

Fantastic!

Until then, I'm going to have to keep playing the game. The game that I can no longer win. Yeah - THAT sounds like fun.

Part 2 of ? Of My Own Personal Soap Opera

Yesterday I had just finally left my house - at that point as quickly as possible because who doesn't want to hurry up and get to the hospital? Well me but only because the vising hours seem very restrictive when you're on a tight schedule. However, when I was IN the hospital ....no, scratch that, even when I was in the the hospital I would have liked slightly longer vising hours.

ANYWAY....

I visited with Best Friend and her new addition Little C. I also helped her "escape" from the hospital so we could walk half a mile away so she could smoke. So yeah, I'm so awesome I helped my friend break all sorts of New Mommy rules. But you know...when that "new Mommy" has had two other children and they turned out just fine, you don't get to have a say in "what's best".

Then it was off to collect my Benjamin's from my mom for my plethora of medical bills, hit the grocery store and head home. Only, when I got home, I realized I didn't want to be there quite yet, mainly because the more I looked around the more stuff I found tucked away or just plain hidden. I think the last straw was finding the "I Love You" post-it from the Boyfriend that was stuck to my bedroom mirror now stuck to the shoe rack in the closet!

With my stress and rage levels shooting off the charts at this point, I decided that obviously the very best option was to grab a blanket, pillow, book and radio and sleep on the living floor of my now unfurnished apartment across town. Oh yes - I was that mad. You can pretty much bet things have taken a pretty sour turn when I no longer want to be in the same house as you - unless you want to die in your sleep. Then the situation is most likely on your side.

Of course, I figured I'd be missed right away but apparently that didn't occur until the next morning . But, eventually we worked it all out once it was explained that the Boyfriend needed to keep the "separate living" lie alive for when the Daughter's mom came into our home. That's all well and good, but then you need to tell me these things. There is no way I'd have any idea to ask a question on like that. NONE. Besides, there's a whole issue with asking the Boyfriend questions in the first place, so usually unless information is readily provided it's best to just wait and see how it plays out. This can go one of two ways - like the way it went, or worse. Rarely does it end happily with complete understanding and nobody storming out of house. That would be nice though.

Moving on....

I still had quite the list to accomplish even though I had mange to cross a whopping three whole things off. It was really more like 1 thing since every time I turned around I was adding to the list rather then subtracting from it making it more of a two steps forward, one step back scenario.

Luckily, the Boyfriend decided to step it up in project "You Better Help Megan Reduce her Stress Levels Before Mass Destruction Ensues" meaning he cleaned out my car and washed it, and then obsessed over the water that was still mysteriously dripping down the sides every once in awhile. It's always such an adventure when you wash your car, especially when you feel like you did a pretty good job drying it only to find out 2 hours later that apparently steal is more absorbent than you realized and water continues to course down the sides of your windows and doors leaving ugly water marks behind.

Miraculously, we also managed to fit in a bunch of other errands I needed to get taken care of AND attend a pool party at Job #2, where we stuffed ourselves with brats, potato salad, soda, and chips. Then I went home to pack and make myself a collection of mix CD's cleverly entitled "Road Trippin" 1-5 (if you're wondering, yes I AM a certified genius...why ever do you ask?)

Sunday started out with a flurry of activity getting myself and my car ready for the trip and culminated in a huge lunch before I settled in for my 10 hour drive to Tennessee. Most people hear that and are pretty sure they would loose their minds around hour 4 or 5, but you really have to try it sometime. The first time I drove to TN alone I was terrified. I was mostly scared of something happening, like being attacked, or robbed or getting in an accident and nobody knowing what happened. However, after I successfully navigated the first trip I knew that this time would be a lot better. Besides that - it's 10 hours of complete ALONE time.

You get to listen to whatever music in what, in whatever order you want as LOUD as you want. You stop when you want, eat what you want and drive how you want. You don't have to entertain, speak to, listen to, or care about anybody else. It's pretty zen really - and possibly the best 10 hours you can spend. As long as you put yourself in the right mind frame to start out and you just settle in, the time goes fairly quickly.

The trip was nice. I didn't get to see as much family as I would have liked, but that's mainly my own fault for not calling people ahead of time. Which isn't really my fault so much as I just don't like calling people so if I could have simply e-mailed them I'm sure we could have avoided a miscommunication in the first place.

By Thursday I had re-established my Southern accent and was ready to head home.

Part Three most likely on Monday

Part One of ? of the Last Two Weeks of My Soap Opera of a Life

Well hello there! So first we should address the issue of me being a horrible, filthy liar. Hey! Stop nodding your head over there! You don't even probably know why I'm calling myself a liar. Unless it's because, as you can probably see, there are STILL no pictures posted. What in the name of little baby jeebus tap dancing in the rain is wrong with me? How possibly hard can it be to post some damn pictures on a blog.

Normally probably not that hard, but with the two jobs, and all the pictures being on my home computer and no Internet access at job #2...well you see. PLUS there was the last two weeks of my life in there...which...well...let's take a look.

First of all probably shortly after I last posted waaaaaaaay back on July 10th, my completely insane mother calls me to tell me that my Great Uncle is on his deathbed and probably will not make it through the night. Obviously I'm immediately upset. I realize the "great" in front of "uncle" makes it seem like this is more of a distant relative, but I lived with my Great Aunt and Uncle for two years and they are simply amazing people.

So, I'm at work, upset, and having a panic attack about what the next move should be. I'm supposed to go to Tennessee to see my Dad on Sunday...do I go? Should I leave for the big D.C. to see my Great Uncle tonight? Where will I stay? Will my Dad understand? What about job #2?

By the time the Boyfriend comes to get me from work I'm a mess. Or, I supposed you could make that MORE of a mess. PLUS the Best Friend goes and decides that it was also a SUPER day to pop out her third kid. So in addition to figuring out the aforementioned paragraph there this to do:
* Must pick up prescription from Walmart before 10pm
* Must get money from mom and make deposit at bank before Sunday
* Pay bills
* Go see Best Friend and Little C in the hospital
* Figure out what in the Holy Hell is going on with my house - specifically where the hell is all my stuff?

Oh yeah - did I forget to mention that the Boyfriend forgot to mention to his daughter's mom that we live together?? Yep. So, since she was dropping of the Daughter and was apparently touring our home (which I didn't know - it turns out it was all MY FAULT for not asking the right questions? Whatever) so all my stuff had to be shoved out of way so he wouldn't look like a big fat liar. Which, in that case, he was.

You wanna know what the really best way to push me over the edge when I'm panicking and feeling really rushed and stressed out? MOVE ALL MY STUFF ALL OVER THE DAMN PLACE SO I CAN'T POSSIBLY FIND IT. Yeah - see how THAT goes.

Oh and did I mention that I had T-minus 2 weeks to make, and mail 30 wedding shower invites??

Breath

I had assume (obviously completely wrongly) that the Boyfriend had gone to get my prescriptions already that day, it was the one thing I asked that get done. NOPE. So he went to go do that and I decided before continuing to have a panic attack to call my family in D.C. and see what the deal was.

Turns out my Great Uncle was "fine" meaning he wasn't going to die during the night, was stable, and, in fact, the kids were planning a fish boil for his birthday the next Saturday.

Once the Boyfriend returned, I gave him the updated situation, and, right before I could make a more graceful and less noticeable exit from my own home, an entire barrage of people came in, with gift for his Daughter. Which, is normally totally ok, but I'm in the middle of having a breakdown, I still have a legal sized to-do list, and now, apparently, I'm going to have to try and entertain people? Right.

I end up completely overwhelmed by the unexpected company, annoyed that the Boyfriend is now completely ignoring me, and pissed because I still can't find any of my stuff. I'm waiting for the Boyfriend to acknowledge the fact that I need to leave - like 15 minutes ago, but since that time never comes, I stomp around trying to find my misplaced items, since some of those are things I need to bring to the hospital for Best Friend.

I grab the rest of my stuff and get to the car only to realize guess who left it on dead empty? Now I have to go back inside and get my debit card. That done, I finally manage to leave the house - finally!

This concludes part one - if you would like to hear the parts two through who knows, because this is apparently getting much longer than I anticipated, you may tune in all the subsequent days to read them!

Guiding the Days of All My Bold Lives to Live

If you didn't get that title? It's a sad (very sad, I can admit that, I'm a big person) conglomeration of soap opera names*. I'd give prizes for who can guess them all correctly and first, but I'm poor, so your prize would probably be the not-so-yummy chocolate Skittles I attempted to eat at lunch yesterday. Now don't all go clamoring for them at once. Keep it civilized people!


* In case you just really have to know, or are confused because I did such a poor job the soaps are, in order: Guiding Light, Days of our Lives, All My Children, Bold and the Beautiful, One Life to Live

**Ahem!!** This is great because I don't even really have a post to get back to really, I mean at this point I could most likely just ramble on and on about soap operas, but I won't because I only watch Bold and the Beautiful and that's simply by default. Also? I'm bad with names, and this post would get very long, very quickly if I had to describe all the characters without names and with physical features only. In fact it's making me tired, and bored, and where was I going with any of this?

Sadly it's not even Monday anymore so I can't just write this whole thing off as a Monday occurrence which, obviously, everyone would understand. Nope - it's Tuesday so I'm supposed to be getting my shit together at this point right?

Right?

**tap** **tap**

**AHEM!!**

So let's see, I realized I promised some pictures, which, sadly, still have not happened. Not for lack of time really, more lack of motivation. Motivation and any sort of artistic inclination. Honestly, I was only out of it that one day, after that it was just sheer ennui that prevented me from doing anything else. That, and the list of crap I need to do that's quickly becoming extremely overwhelming, and where or where are those anxiety pills when you need 'em?? Clearly not here where they should be, keeping me breathing, and all the hair on my head and not in my clenched fists.

What's going on you may ask? A quick recap...as a side note I should warn you that this might sound a bit soap operaesque, you know, without all the evil twins and the resurrections and such, but still, if it didn't happen then this blog would be uber boring (or maybe just more uber boring) and I'd have to regal you with stories about kittens, or unicorns, or how keep getting this hangnail on my one finger that keeps turning into an infection and I wish that would just stop happening...and ANYWAY:

Wednesday: Have small bowel biopcey. Sleep for the rest of the day, except for the hour I was awake to make myself a sandwitch and take a couple of phone calls

Thursday: Have upsetting realization while talking to my financial advisor, but nothing that other people haven't already had to do, luckily it also means I don't get to work until 10am.

Manage to hit the gym for a Power Pump class at which point my stomach starts to get very angry

Pretty sure the discharge papers said I could "resume normal activity", guess it's a good thing I didn't go to spin instead

Best friend comes over with her two boys, who are happily entertained by the boyfriend, who, among other things: gave them two bottle of silly string that ended up all over a tree and the back porch (read: cement slab), make a bonfire and roast hot dogs, take a walk to the river and plan a fishing trip. Luckily my best friend and I did pretty much nothing but leisurly watch it all from the safety of our chairs.

Finish watching movie from Saturday night with the boyfriend

Cue intense and riducliously painful stomach cramps. Until 1am when I finally fall asleep.

Friday: Stomach cramps continue. After a few phone calls with the nurse/doctor/clinic it's decided I should probably just to go the ER.

Normally I would just let this slide and deal with it myself, but two pieces of my stomach/small bowel were just removed (ok albit SMALL pieces) and apparently stomache pain should NOT still be happening at this point.

Spend 2 hours in the ER to be told it's just the surgical gas stuck in my innards. Fun.

Go back to work for 45 minutes then race back to town to my second job, breaking untold amounts of traffic laws only to find that the person who was supposedly waiting for me to arrive with baited breath....is already gone.

Work until close. Which actually isn't that late.

Get home. No boyfriend.

Call cell phone, no answer.

Text, no response.

Call cell phone, nada.

Start to get worried.

I'm not saying he can't leave the house of his own accord, but typically I at least have some sort of idea about what's going on.

Start to get annoyed.

Call cell phone, leave message.

Get call back!

No, you did not tell me which friend's house you were at. No big deal, I'm just a stickler for info...much like the KGB.

Feel much better, but now lonely....and bored.

We canceled the digital cable.

We get channels 2-24.

Do you know what's on channels 2-24??
News
Simpsons
Becker
News
News
Weather
News

Try and work on computer - as now would be the perfect time to upload promised pictures on blog. Get frusterated because I can't listen to decent television in the computer room (I hate you channels 2-24!!) Get dramatic because I feel like nothing in the room is mine aside from the computer and the desk it's sitting on. Even though this isn't true, and also because I just have less stuff so you just don't see as much of it in general. Take Tramadol for stupid surgical gas stomach cramps and try to sleep (dramatically!) on the couch in front of Uptown Girls. (Shut it)

Boyfriend finds me, upon his arrival home, and correctly assumes I'm crabby and bored due to stupid no good TV channels. Luckily he brought home an awesome movie which we both managed to stay awak to watch. Yay us!

Saturday (July 4th): Comes to a crashing halt with a rather upsetting visit. We know we'll get around the this new situation (which isn't actually all that new for us), but, still, in light of the earlier part of our week...this just addds to the problems.

I suggest we go to the Farmers Market. Even when I realize it's spitting rain I never suggest we stay home. The sacrifices I make. They are intense.

Manage to get some awesome buffalo steaks practically for free (yay coupons!), discuss upcoming King of Pop's funeral with coffee shop owner, buy an amazing flower arrangement for $5.

Go home, and I realize I cannot continue living without some sort of food. Make eggs. Clean microvwave, stove, counters, and mop floors in kitchen, entryways, and bathroom.

Head upstairs to see what the boyfriend is up to, which I suspect is sleeping. Which is when I decide to take a break and, rather then upload pictures (because that would be silly!) I fall asleep too.

Finally get back up, finish cleaning, the boyfriend finds his way downstairs and makes up\s buffalo steaks, and we pretty much proceed to lounge around the rest of the day.

At no point did updating el bloggo seem like a good idea. Sorry!

Sunday: Back to work! Bright and early at 9am! Turns out it's not so bad when you have a fun co-worker.

Stop at the 'rent's afterwards to borrow the weed wacker since I've decided I cannot live one more minute staring at the weeds threatening to overtake the lawn.

Arrive home to find the boyfriend has been haaaaarrrddd at work mowing, weeding, planting tomato plants, transplanting other plants from our "ravine" to the side of the hosue and generally fixing stuff....color me shocked! And totally stoked!! We spend the rest of the day in a battle against the yard - and we totally win!

Monday: Day starts off ok until I realize I have a doctor's appointment (yes, once again!) Which puts the boyfriend in a condundrum since he wants to use the car but doesn't want to have to take me to the doctor's. In the end he decides using the car and dealing with my doctor's appointments are more beneficial.

Have panic attack when I realize I am leaving for Tennessee next week, I still have to plan a bridal shower with money I don't have and supplies I don't have since I returned most of them to pay for rent, still have another apartment to clean before the end of the month, the car is a junk heap on the inside, need OIL CHANGE....BREATH!!

The boyfriend picks me up at 2pm and tells me he finally was able to pick up the brand spankin' new electric guitar the music store was holding for him!

My neurologist actually doesn't yell at me or call me poor! Plus gives me medicine that might help my headaches AND my crazy panic attacks. Yay!!

Decide I really need to do at least one thing (finish cleaning old apartment, get oil change for car, clean car inside and out, get new bridal shower invites, get new bridal shower EVERYTHING, pay rest of the rent, BREATH) each night this week so I feel like I'm accomplishing something.

Even though we are poor I want to treat us to a decent meal, so Red Lobster it is! I even cheat and have some of their delicious bread! Oh bread how I've missed you!!!

Feeling full and happy, I know spending my gas money on food was still a good idea.

Arrive home and play with new electric guitar. This is probably the one instrument I've never played, and never had an opportunity to mess around with. And. It. Is. FANTASTIC!! I think I'm addicted.

Pry the guitar out of my own hands and load up to go clean the apartment. It's one dinky bathroom and some vacuuming. I'm pretty sure I can handle this.

Miss two calls from the boyfriend.

Call, no answer

Call, no answer

Text, no response

wait.

clean toilet

clean counter

clean mirror

Call, no answer.

Even though I KNOW everything is probably fine, I feel like I need to just go home and see what's up. I try and tell myself I'm being stupid but I just don't care. I also realize I can just say I forgot to grab the stainless steel cleaner.

Get home. The boyfriend is ok - one of his friends is having some problems though. We decide that he'll finish helping me clean the apartment then we'll deal with the friend.

On the way over, we discuss another friend, and the boyfriend decides to give him a call, only to find out some extremely bad news, at which point I know we're not going to be cleaning the bathroom, but will be going directly to the friend's house.

Arrive, with friend et al at ER around 9:30pm.

Leave ER around 1am.

I contimplate calling in to work for the morning, but realize that's probably not going to fly since I have enough of my own doctor's appointments I need to miss for.


That's that. I tried to make it as short as possible. I'm pretty sure I lost most of my 3 readers at this point anyway. If nothing else it was theraputic for me! So thanks!! I'm not so good at the short recaps - I'd try and get better but then I'd probably end up leaving out some curcial words and then it would look like a drunken monkey on crack typed this up rather than just dictating it to me.

The pictures - they are a commin. Not tonight (work until 10pm), maybe tomorrow? (although after kickboxing I think that the apartment MUST. BE. CLEANED.) Not Thursday (work again until 10pm) Potentially Friday (that might end up being bridal shower invitiation night tho), Potentially Saturday (assuming I don't go to the 2nd Job Summer Par-tay!)


I'll try and get it done before the big Tennessee trip at any rate!! :-)

Parking Wars: My Driveway Edition, Part One

Well hello! I trust you had a great weekend. Or maybe not as your instant karma for having one last weekend. I'm just kidding (Maybe).

As you know I'm now the "proud" resident of an actual house. I still have some mixed feelings about it, but I was excited to hope that maybe...just maybe it would mean the end of battling with neighbors. The end of wondering when, if ever, they would finally, mericfully, turn the music down. Hopeing that maybe when they get home at the crack of dawn they'll think "hey - you know, we should totally keep it down. Like, other people might be trying to actually sleep or something. So, tonight, lets not talk loudly on our porch at 3am. Lets not stomp up and down the stairs. Lets not scream at each other in the parking lot. Lets surely not do any of those things"

If you have not lived in an actual house since you left your parents' house, you probably get a lot of homeowners trying to convince you how great it is to not share a wall with someone. Everything is just so damn peachy in home-dwellingsville why wouldn't everyone want to do this??

LIARS!!

Home dwellers have just as many, if not more problems with neighbors as apartment/condo/duplex dwellers do. They are just dirty liars who lie so you will join them on the dark side. Noisy neighbors? Check! Loud talking outside at 3am neighbors? Check! Violating your property line? Double Check!!

I've never been disillusioned by this. I know. I've always known. Neighbors just always suck. That's life. In fact, during my apartment days, I felt slightly better than these home dwellers because one call to my landlord and the problem was pretty much fixed. If you live in a house? Good luck my friend!

Well....now I live in a house....a house with a shared driveway. With not just one other house...but two others houses. Yes that's right my little mathematicians....one driveway for three houses.

Let the games begin!

Initally the boyfriend and I were parking our one car as close to the house as possible. There is a space behind the house to park, but at the time we had yet to get a magnet roller to take care of getting the metal debris, like rusty nails, out of the way so that we wouldn't pop my extremly expensive tires.

Let me draw you a mental picture if you will: When you come to our house there is one driveway entrance. It goes between the big house (not ours) on the left and a small house (ours!) on the right. The big house dwellers (our landlord's nephews) park their two huge 4x4 full size trucks and one older black Bonneville along side the big house - so the left side of the drive. This leaves enough room for my car to drive up and park alongside our house on the left

Which would be fine except for that third house, which is behind our house and the big house.

See actual map - (also try not to laugh, there's really only so much I can do with Microsoft Word/Paint here people!)

Those little squares over there along the big house represent the trucks sticking out into the shared drive.

Anyway, the third house people are really only there on the weekends because it's their "summer house". Well la di da! So here they come one day - bright and early in the morning with their van pulling a pontoon boat! At the time, I was parked like so:

(I made my car purple...naturally)

The night before we had been moving for over 12 hours including not only our stuff but my friend and the boyfriend's sister's stuff as well. Once we finally had gotten around it making it food it was only then I realized we had no forks, so I made the treck back the the old apartment to get them and was too tired to think about people arriving at the crack of dawn with boats and vans. I figured no big deal - I'll park super close to the house everything will be fine...no bring on the foooood!

Obviously that didn't work out. When we finally heard the neighbors of the third house knocking they proceeded to lecture the boyfriend about the shared driveway and sharing. Blah blah blah. Then we just decided - screw it and started parking on our front lawn all ghetto style.

Then we come home one night to find some random person parked in our actual designated spot - you know...the one filled with possible sharp metal debris! Which - ok yeah, at the time we were surely not going to park there what with the sharp metal debris...but still. Um...that would be our one spot, aside from the lawn on which to park. At the time we figured - hey what the heck. YOU wanna pop your tires (which I was secretly really hoping would be the case - serve ya right!) knock yourself out buddy.

Still - this will be unacceptable once we get that shit magnet rolled. Which we did like the next day.

Now we get to park in our "spot"....not blocking the shared -yes we get it TRUST ME driveway.

Interestingly - the big house neighbors still like to take pretty much any and all opportunities to point out when we might possibly be even thinking about maybe blocking the shared driveway.

Maybe I need to slip them a xanex....

Next up - Parking Wars: My Driveway Edition; Part Two: It's 5am for the loveagod!

Your male PMS is completely destroying my my sanity so KNOCK IT OFF

I was all set to have this crazy rant of a post once again, but I've completely run out of steam here. I'm exhausted to the point where the bags under my eyes have their own bags. I'm bored to the point of numbness, sitting at work, and staring at the seemingly beautiful day that lies just beyond my office window and therefore just out of reach.

I long to be at the point where the moving is all done, my old apartment has cleaned its self, the cats have found a new and better home, and everything in the new place has been put away or at least is hiding behind a closet door where I can't see it.

Right now, I feel like we will never get to this point.

What surely is not helping is that apparently every man on the face of the earth is PMS'ing at the exact same time. Was there some sort of lunar change that I wasn't aware of? Not that I'm in the habit of following the cycles of the moon, but seriously.

While I'm attempting to get the rest or our stuff moved....alone, and put away our stuff in the new place...alone, and trying to find a better home for my cat that you knew I had.....alone, I need to not have to deal with male PMS right now. I have enough going on thankyouverymuch.

Also? You know what's really not helpful? When you decide that you're "tired" and go to bed at 5:30 in the evening! Meanwhile I brought over a car load of stuff....washed the floors...organized the utility room....and put together the "office". It was really great when I was attempting to put away kitchen stuff and you got all huffy because you were trying to sleep on the couch at 5:30 in the evening. Guess what? People who sleep for like 12 hours at a time? Don't get to complain when the other person works all day too, then comes home and has to deal with complete chaos alone.

That's fine...because the sooner all this is over the sooner I can attempt to regain my sanity.

P.S. I have a potential home for my cats, but nothing is certain. I really don't want to take them to the Humane Society because I'm fairly certain they will put Noel down. If you can help out and take two wonderful cats that need more attention and care then I can seem to give them please let me know! I appreciate it!!

The Secret comedy of errors

You know how some people are just naturally really lucky? Like they embody all the practices that the book/movie “The Secret” preaches, but without even really trying? That’s my boyfriend.

For instance: the other day he just casually mentions that he’s sure he can find us a house to rent he’ll just have to look around and he’s sure that something will come. Of course I am immediately assuming we’ll end up living back in the ghetto part of town in some crumbling little house that’s about to wash away in the river. This is why “The Secret” is not working for me.

So the very next day he makes one phone call, we do a quick drive-by, and the landlord, who also happens to live next door wonders over. Much discussion ensues about how we all look so familiar to each other, when we finally realize that 6 months straight of drinking every single day in the very bar our landlord used to own apparently paid off. Well now, I mean not then so much, since I was spending all the money I was making on completely intangible items. That’s neither here nor there now….so anyway the landlord loves us and tells us on the spot that the place is ours.

That’s how we ended up with our super cute, two bedroom home near the river, outside the city limits so we can burn stuff. Oh and did I mention that our landlord is letting us use a washer and dryer she already has for our laundry room, we get an entire shed for storage and she taking money off our rent since the boyfriend is pretty handy and will be doing some work around the house/yard? Yeah.

On an every day level this works for the boyfriend too. He can pretty much be just sitting there and suddenly say he needs something like a black belt or a brown hoodie or whatever and **bam** the very next day he’ll go to Goodwill and it’ll just be sitting there like he personally ordered it. Which, according to “The Secret” he pretty much did.

On the other hand, I’m that girl in the office who always seems to have some sort of crisis or drama going on. For instance: I may spend weeks searching for the perfect black cardigan, only to finally give up and settle on one that I only kinda like and is only kinda what I’m looking for just because I’m so sick of looking. Or when I ended up signing a lease with a slum lord who still owes me $1,200.

Or, this just this morning, I was trying to fix a bracelet that broke some time ago. All it really needed was the clasp glued back onto its end so it wouldn’t go flying off randomly when I wear it. With 10 minutes before I had to leave for work, I break out the Super Glue and gently try and put just a liiiiitle bit on the end of the clasp. Nothing was coming out. I squeeze a bit harder. Still nothing. Squeeze a bit harder still…and *whoosh* it spills out everywhere – including the counter and all over my hands.

I desperately want this bracelet fixed so I keep struggling to attach the end of the clasp to the end of the bracelet and while keeping my fingers in constant motion because I have to be at work in 10 minutes and I’ll be useless if I have to go in there with my hands glued together like Barbie’s unbalanced cousin Frontal Lobe Lobotomy Lisa.

I finally get the clasp all glued on there – and when I say all glued I mean that. When I checked on the bracelet a bit later, the clasp was so covered with glue that now I couldn’t actually get it open to attach it to the bit of chain at the other end and then put it on my wrist. Of course. Then in a flash of desperation, I try and force the clasp open like maybe Super Glue really isn’t that great of a bonding agent after all and, of course, the little lever you pull own to make the claw open…snaps off.

Bracelet set aside I now have to go about trying to get the now dry Super Glue off of my hands. A quick Google search tells me that I need to locate some nail polish with acetone. Super! I’m a girl and I do my nails so I have nail polish remover!

Yeah I have nail polish remover alright. Acetone free nail polish remover. I double check with Google and there are no other options unless I have time to sit and soak my hands in soapy hot water, which I don’t.

Eventually when I stop dinkin around and get my ass to work I locate some nail polish remover with acetone in the bathroom and that seems to do a fairly decent job. Of course the bottle only had like maybe an 1/8 of it left. I couldn’t really be much of a chooser at that point so I worked with it.

Basically while my boyfriend walks around like he wrote “The Secret” my life is a constant comedy of errors. I guess that pretty much mean we balance each other out….right?

Sometimes it's very sad when life imitates art, especially if you consider Mike Judge movies to be art

By now I would assume that practically everyone on the planet is familiar with that classic office-life move “Office Space” If not, then get thee to a video rental store. Stat! You simply cannot continue kiving without seeing this movie. Cannot. Don’t worry I’ll be here when you get back.

For everyone else…we all remember early on when our “hero” is badgered countless times regarding those damn TPS reports. If nothing similar has ever happened to you – then you are very very lucky.

I am not.

So the other day I go to set up an online product for a customer at El Banco. The next day I get one e-mail from someone named “Arlene” to myself and CC’d to someone named “Jackie”, stating that this customer also needs a personal profile set up in our system. Ok. No big deal. This was at 11:29am.

At 12:56pm the same day, I get yet another e-mail from someone named “Claudia” to myself and CC’d to my manager. This e-mail contains the verbiage from the first e-mail as well as a big long explanation about signing myself up for additional training on the matter.

About an hour after the second e-mail my manager pops in and asks me if I’ve seen the second e-mail. Then she explains what I need to do.

Yes, thank you – I’m pretty sure it’s under control at this point. Also? I need to know about everything from how to reverse a NSF fee to the tax ramifications involved in early IRA withdrawal. Excuse me if I cannot remember every little iota of information regarding everything in between.

I wonder what happens when the people at the top screw up? Who are they getting an initial e-mail from, and then a follow up e-mail, and then a personal visit reminder, from? I think in that situation the senario should reverse its self and those of us on the bottom layer of the totem pole should be sending those out.

But if you smile and think happy thoughts it's just supposed to get automatically better right?

I may be being a touch overdramatic here, but at this point, between the damn e-coli in the water (Yeah - it totally was - I have proof and it's not very pretty at all) all the recent doctors visits, plain old rude as crap people, and generally shittyness, my life is like one step away from a country song. I'm not going to say what would really top it off because I'm afraid that putting it in print twice (once in a text) will jinx it.

Anyway - here are the crappy events of the last roughly 24ish hours. Judge for yourself:


6:15am - The boyfriend's alarm goes off. So we're off and running. Well he is. I need like another 30 minutes before I'm even partially coherent. How in the hell he manages to jump straight outta bed and starts running around getting ready is beyond me. Although I suppose if all I had to do to get ready was pull on some crappy pants and crappy shirt, run water and gel through my hair and make coffee I could probably be more motivated too.


6:35am - Take the boyfriend to work and return home to continue getting ready.


7:50am - Yay! Blender still works! Raspberry smoothie it is!


9:00am - Door at the J-O-B open. Less than a little thrilled about having to let the people in, but I mean I guess that's fairly inveitable.


9:10am - **SLAM** **SLAM**......**SLAM** **SLAM**......**SLAM** **SLAM**....



9:20am - and some more **SLAM** **SLAM**....**SLAM** **SLAM** This is the lovley sound that our doorS...yeah that's plural..make as people just whip them open and then let them **SLAM** **SLAM** shut. Some days are worse than others. This morning is particularily bad. It seems people are really puttin' some back into opening them. Odd, since the doors are exactly the same and are no heavier than any other day. I guess people must be workin' out....


9:25am - **the screeching sounds of old woman barking away** God DAMN old people are loud as shit. I would imagine this is because they can no longer hear.


9:30am - **old women screeching**


9:35am - Oh good! Now there's like a little town hall meeting in the lobby directly outside of my office. The hell is going on out there? So in addition to **old woman screeching** there's just a general cacophony going on. I'm not sure why El Banco is like the morning meeting place right now (**SLAM** **SLAM** )Especially since there is a restaurant/coffee shop situation directly across the street. I will pay these people to kindly go over there. Like....now.


9:40am - head is pounding. Door is still slamming. People still screeching.


12:00pm - Right before I'm supposed to go to lunch (although at this point it's rather a dumb thing to do anyway since my body is constantly rejecting food) someone walks in. Of course they want to open a new account. Of course.


12:30pm - The guy was really nice - so I feel bad for getting all annoyed initally. Oops. Also? He was a priest. Ugh. Hand me my handbasket...again.


1:30pm - I had a raspberry smoothie, cottage cheese and crackers. Do you think this managed to stay down? NO. Of course not. So now I will enjoy being sick for the entire rest of the day once again.


2:00pm - 4:30pm - The door slamming has pretty much died down and there's no more town hall gatherings in the lobby so yay! However the phone is nuts. What do these people even want? I start snatching up the phone after like a ring and a half just to have mercy on my nerves so I won't have to hear it any more.


4:31pm - We get to lock the doors!! Well actually a minute ago. And had I been paying attention I would have noticed this. Since I did not another customer snuck in under the radar and so now while I'm locking the doors I'm also letting him out. Since I'm doing that, I basically have the door open, while yet another customer moseyes on up and wants to do a cash advance. You have do these inside. I have to let her in. We fall further behind.


4:35pm - We rush around trying to get things closed up. I am exhausted and the phone is still ringing. What is going on? More answering just to shut it the hell up already.


5:00pm - I am more than ready to leave. Luckily I have a FREE microdermabraison appointment scheduled at a spa. Yay! I just need to get home, change, and head over and then it's an hour of nothing but SILENCE. Sweet. Also? The rest of my friend's wedding shower invitations are in. One more thing to cross of that list!


5:35pm - Have a rather blissful drive to the spa. Usually I dread heading downtown around this time. Typically it's a mess of people driving home from work and school and that's just not a situation my blood pressure can deal with right now. Not today! It's pretty clear driving. I don't even get stuck behind or around any motorcycles and/or crotch rockets so BONUS!


5:50pm - I smile at the pretty girl behind the check-in counter at the spa. She looks confused. My stomach is knotting and not because I ate anything recently. They can't find my appointment. I can't even be mad about it because it was free. The recptionist even starts to offer to let me hang around and they can squeeze me in but then as she continutes tapping away on the keyboard realizes there are just no appointments available. She does, however, give me a few free samples and reschedules. Neither of these things is really a replacement for the kind of peace an hour of silence can give you though.

6:00pm - Drive back across town. Of course I am stuck behind/around some guy on a motorcycle who appears as though he is trying to look like he is a motorcycle gang. I don't care about how he looks - I only care that his motorcycle is loud, and made even louder when he randomly decides to rev the engine and be bound and determined to not let me pass him. Also motorcycles smell. My car neither emits a foul oder or is loud. I seriously want to tell his guy to go suck a tailpipe.

6:15pm - Arrive at Hobby Lobby while simultaneously on the phone with best friend. If nothing else she is like the second best thing to having a quiet hour at the spa - she lets me bitch as much as I want and yet still manages to make me laugh. Especially when she tells me that a mutual acquaintance who is generally all high and mighty about her marriage....is getting divorced. Huh...yeah doesn't pay to mock people from your high horse so much now does it?

On another note I find pink acrylic ice for my friend's wedding shower - yay! And the large diamond paper weights - also for the wedding shower - are 50% off!

6:40pm - I go to check out and get the invitiations that were rain checked. I was pretty sure that I already paid for them hence the buying of other things when I had like $17 in my bank account. WRONG! So then I owed money I didn't even have which was fun.

6:45pm - 11:30pm - Pretty uneventful merifully! The boyfriend was organizing his stuff and had vacuumed! (yay!!!) and I got to catch up on "Ugly Betty" AND the "Lost" season finale. Downloaded some new "vehicles" on my Garmin and finalled called it a night. Also on the plus side was my spray dry shampoo worked a LOT better than it did the first time I tried it. Which was good because I was too lazy and tired to actually wash my hair what with all the new vehicle downloading.

5:50am - Too early. **SNOOZE**

6:00am - Ugh. Still to early. **SNOOZE**

6:10am - Ok now I'm behind. Get up!

6:30am - Take the boyfriend to work. I'm still not really awake and he starts telling me all this stuff in the car but my brain isn't engaged yet so I'm confused and so I nod and smile anyway.

7:00am - OMG what am I doing! Still dinking around with my hair. Now I can't find the white t-shirt that goes with like all my work clothes. What is happening??

7:10am - Finally find white shirt. Rush around getting the cats locked away in their room for the day. Get them some food. Race around stuffing everything in my purse. Run back to the cat's room because I forgot my iPod. Race back to the kitchen and shove a bunch of Mt Dew, Ensure (yeah yuck it up - but it stays down!) and race cakes in a bag and run out the door.

7:15am - On the road 15 minutes too late! Why didn't I just get up at 6am?? Stupid.

7:40am - OMG there is a major backup on the beltline. Well of course. Stupid rush hour. Stupid me for not getting up on time!

7:50am- So close to the clinic! I'm at stop light waiting to turn left. The car ahead of me and myself are in the middle of the intersection when it turns yellow. We both speed up to get out of the way and complete the turn. As my car is crossing the path of the traffic coming straight on who also has a yellow light and probably red by now I look over to make sure nobody else is running the light. It appears as though they are all slowing down to a stop.

Suddenly some old guy like decides to gun it straight into my car! Luckily the boyfriend just replaced my front brakes and I'm a pro on the horn. I slam on both at the same time and the old guy comes with in inches of t-boning me. Awesome.

7:55am - Fly past parking ramp...structure? For my doctor's office. Since it's yet another office I haven't been in I wasn't familiar with their parking. Now I have to Do a few U turns including one into the intersection I almost got t-boned in. Awesome.

8:00am - Finally get to the correct ramp/structure? Get registered for the appointment. Do I want to pay my co-pay right now? Um...not really.

8:35am - Frantically text work that I am still with the doctor.

9:15am - Done! Yay. Wait. What's with the weather all of a sudden here? When I left it felt like it was getting warm and was totally sunny. Now it's gray and on the verge of rain. Plus it's cooled way down. Super. Because I didn't bring a jacket. Plus like three windows are open at home. Awesome.

9:25am - Stuck behind some slow ILLINOIS driver going up the on ramp for the beltline. Of course. As we near the beltline - which - I might add - is going at a completely frantic pace the driver slows down even MORE. Awesome. I'm going to die because people from Illinois are complete asshats. The merging is a complete mess wherein I almost get sideswiped because nobody currently on the beltline will move the hell over and the asshat from Illinois is going at a snails pace and also won't move over.

I have a lot of road rage - maybe this is obvious. However, not only was this totally justified, but it's the first time I wanted to pull somone out of their car and just scream at them about not killing the people on the road around you with your complete;u ass backwards ILLINOIS driving methods. Omg.

9:30am - Luckily Jim Gaffigan is on the Bob & Tom show - and has been all morning. I decide to try and breath will enjoying Jim's ruminations on Hot Pockets.

9:45am - Arrive at work. And in one piece!

10:00am - I don't even have my purse off my shoulder before a CSR sends a call to me. Thaaanks. You know what is really helpful? If you own a business - you should know the correct business name! I fail to understand how it's possible not to have this information. Aaaaand we're off!

10:15am - I basically get yelled at because lending law have changed....from 20 years ago! Ya think? Listen lady - there may have been a time when calling up a bank and giving a sob story, bitching about the current bank you are with, then claming to not have only worked in banking for 30 years but at the very bank I work at may have gotten you a lower rate or prehaps they simply opened a drawer full of money and asked you how much you wanted - but now? This is not the case. It's been twenty years. Once I quote you a rate range I don't care if you're Ghandi...there's nothing else I can do.

After this things improved greatly - and I kept down my chocolate Ensure lunch! Yay! Maybe smiling and trying to think happy thoughts does help? Or maybe someone figured I finally suffered enough!

An informational and unathorized study in summer traffic patterns. Yeah it's pretty much as riveting as it sounds

I'm going to just say right off the bat here, that if you are from Illinois or Minnesota, or you know someone there, or you just feel really friendly about either state and their respective drivers, then you might want to just stop reading now. Or, actually keep reading and maybe take some notes, because you might learn something. Or, you might send me hate mail. Either way. I just thought you should know.

That said.....I do a lot of driving, especially since all of my doctors are in a city 30-40 minutes away. I spend a lot of time on the interstate. I wish this wasn't the case. This is why: Wisconsin is too damn close to Illinois and Minnesota (see headlines over the winter declaring it Minniconsin - I don't think so).

Typcially, this doesn't bother me - especially when I decide I want to go to Chicago or the Mall of America (because what's better at M of A then no sales taxes on clothes!) Then summer and the traveling season rolls around again, and I get all stabby at the thought of having to drive with those people.

I personally feel like there should be a toll for entering Wisconsin, but only if you are from Illinois. And in the travelin' season - Minnesota. I'm not 100% sure what exactly happens once the border is crossed, but obviously it's no good. No good AT ALL.

It's much like the phenomenon that occurs in Door County where, apparently, all tourists must check their brains once they cross the bridge in Sturgeon Bay. You can pick 'em up on the way out, but, my understanding is, once you cross that bridge you basically lose your mind. Litterally.
Back on task here - **ahem** there are two ways that people from Illinois drive. One way I can deal with because it pretty much mirrors the way I drive. The other is just plain insane.

Method 1: Just drive really fast at all costs. Yeah you'll probably end up riding someone for a bit until you can finally manage to pass them, or, they get the hit and get out of the way. I pretty much drive like this most of the time so I can respect this method. I suspect that these drivers are from the Chicago area. Or former Milwaukee dwellers, because this is also how everyone on the expressway drives.

Method 2: Basically this methody entails driving like the biggest asshat KNOWN TO MANKIND. You pretty much just work really hard at making my blood pressure just completely skyrocket which is fairly hard because I have really really low blood pressure. So good job. This is what it looks like:

Step one: Get in the left lane and act like you are going to pass everyone in the right lane
like you should be doing

Step two: Come up along a semi. This is probably why you got in the left lane in the first
place.

Step three: Once you are along side the semi - rather than speeding up, or at least staying
above 70, slow waaaay down. Like to 65 or slower. Do this completely inexplicibly. It works
best if you not even behind anyone because then you just deepen the mystery. I'm not sure
what you're doing during this time. Examining the possible "art" on the semi bed? Admiring
the mud flaps? Day dreaming about life on the open road??

Step four: Feel pretty smug knowing that you have now just completely enraged the 20 or
so cars that have built up behind you in the meantime. Hahaha - yes, you are king of the
assholes now!

Step five: Once you have finally passed the semi, put on your turn singal indicating that you
now intend to move to the right lane - finally. Do you hear the sound of cheers behind you?

Step six: Leisurely change lanes while the first car behind you practically runs you off the
road because they are so glad you are mercifully getting out of the way.

Step seven: Now that you are in the right lane, and are sure that the car trying to pass you
for the last eternity is going to now try and blow by you at the speed of light they are so mad,
you must speed up to that same speed. More points if you go so fast that you know they
won't make an attempt to keep up.

Bonus step!: If you do this correctly, you can keep passing the car now desperate to pass
YOU, in the right lane because, you know that unlike youself they probably aren't going to go
100 miles an hour(!!) just to play your game. So, the bonus is that pretty soon you are going to
come up on either a semi or much slower moving car in the right lane, so off you go to the left
once again and can now start the entire process over!

Such FUN!!

Minnesota pretty much employs the same driving style as method 2, but are typically less dedicated so they'll piss you off for awhile for sure, but probably not as long. Which is slightly better.

So - as the gas prices rise this tourist season, so may your blood pressure. Enjoy the ride!

Okay universe - you win, now take your ball and go home

I’ve basically been trying to quit my job for the last two years. Yes, that IS a long time for a job search, and the reasons it’s not working are: time, energy, and money.

Time because, well, I have two jobs so up to three times a week I work 14 hour days and when I do have a chance to do something I want to do my first thought isn’t to run and go check the classifieds or update ye olde resume. Also – I usually have an episode or two of “Lost” to catch up on and, obviously, what’s more important, real life or totally fake life? Exactly – tooooottally fake life

Energy is pretty much the same as “Time” see “14 hour days” as a reference.

Money. First there’s the obvious – postage! For awhile I decided I was too poor to continue to buy stamps so I stopped that. Additionally, when I do mail out a resume, I like to put it in an 8 1/2x11 sized envelope that matches my resume paper and is embossed with a little gold phrase “Do not bend” They are very nice and therefore even MORE expensive to send. Plus, this ties in nicely with “Time” because I don’t have the “Time” to go stand in like at the Post Office and once again I refer you back to “14 hour days”

The second caveat to “Money” is fairly unique for the line of work I want to do. Notice there that “want” is stressed. See, I stupidly majored in music. Just music. Didn’t want to teach, didn’t think performing was going to be paying the bills all the time, so…. I was pretty sure I had a plan though! I also – here’s where I figured the Benjamin’s would be rollin’ in – minored in arts management and advertising. See! Back up plan!!! Here’s what else they don’t tell you: 1) For every job you want so do like 500 other music majors and if there are 501 of you out there guaranteed there are only like 200 jobs (maybe. If you’re lucky). 2) Don’t even think you’re just gonna pop open the classifies or fire up your jobs.com and immediately have like 50 positions to apply for. Nope. You get to pay for your job listings! Oh yes folks! Since artists already make so very much money (that whole “starving” artist thing? Just Kidding!!) clearly, the best option is to make them PAY for it. Oh irony, you’re a fickle bitch, yes?

ANYWAY!! The whole reason I bring this is up this: when I start to really get serious about finding a new job and I make the time and find the energy and scrounge up the money? The Universe comes along and suddenly puts purpose into my otherwise soul-crushing job.

Suddenly, I’m getting the customers I can actually help. I’m making their lives easier. They want to see me. Life is good! Then for awhile I think well hey if this is how it’s going to be than I can deal with this for a bit longer.

Of course eventually it flips again and I’m back to square one. Basically I kind of feel like the Universe is giving me a big bitch slap and is all “Hey! That’s not your path right now!! I’LL let you know when it’s the right time – and now is NOT it. Now! Get to work.” Folks – The Universe has spoken. Or maybe I’m just giving up too easily? Sometimes it’s hard to know when to fight.

Okay okay...NOW I get it!

I love going to open houses. When I was younger my mom used to drag me to a million of them every Sunday. Allegedly we were thinking of moving, but I’m not sure that that was the entire motivation. Really, open houses are just an excuse to be nosey and poke around other people’s houses. One thing I never understood was why there was always this emphasis on having a super luxurious bathroom and a master bedroom the size of a football stadium. I mean, of course it’s nice to have a large bathroom, and who wouldn’t want nice travertine tiled shower rather than a fiberglass enclosure? Yet I just didn’t get it. It all just seemed like stuff that, while aesthetically pleasing, what more were all these perks doing?

Yet bathrooms with whirlpool tubs the size of small wading pools seemed to make more sense than ginormous master bedrooms. Like who needs an entire separate sitting area? Or what’s with the fireplace? Who’s spending all this time in the bedroom? So much so that it’s more like a studio apartment than it is simply a bedroom. I simply: Did. Not. Get. It.

Then – about a month ago I suddenly got it. The light bulb went off and it was bright. Basically I went from about six years of living alone to being constantly surrounded by people. Constantly. Essentially the only time I’d be alone is when I was in the bathroom getting ready for bed or getting ready in the morning or in the bedroom folding clothes or getting dressed. I’d be standing in which ever room and suddenly realize it was quiet and I was alone. It was NICE. Usually it meant it was the only time during the day that I wasn’t having to talk to, entertain, smile at, yell at, or be talked to, entertained, smiled at or yelled at.

Don’t get me wrong – I’m getting more used to being in constant contact with people, especially since at el banco I now have my own office so that’s become like a little get away too. Sometimes though, you like hearing your own thoughts and just decompressing. Alone.

So that’s it – I just wanted to say that I get it. I get spending tens of thousands of dollars on remodeling what was once a closet of a bathroom or a boring, 4-walled master bedroom. Even though your inner voice can be annoying – it’s nice to be able to at least hear it once in a while.

It's official, I've killed something with my big fat ass

My office is somehow swarming with ants. It’s gross. Plus now I look completely crazy. It’s like when someone tells you that their sister’s brother-in-law’s ex-finance’s daughter’s friend got lice and suddenly you’re itching your scalp for the next week? Yeah – that’s how it is with the ants. I’m itchy because I know that they are there. I spend much of my time on a crusade to squish ants and/or swat them off myself or various areas on or around my desk. Basically, I look like I’ve turned into a meth addict since I sit in my office itching and swatting at things nobody else can see except me or unless you’re reeeaaaally close to my desk. I’ve pretty much turned into the hottest banker EVAR. Obviously.

Apparently now, in my battle to be victorious over these amazingly resistant insects, they have decided to go all kamikaze and upped the game to include suicide missions. Essentially this involves sitting on my chair and waiting to see the shadow of my ass, at which time they know that the end is near. While it sounds like this is more a win for me and less so for the ants, you would be wrong. In fact I wouldn’t have ever caught on to their little strategy except that recently I’ve started changing into my gym clothes in the bathroom at work.

This really means nothing except as I was folding up my pants to put them in my bag, I noticed something on the back pocket. Upon closer inspection it appeared to be a dead ant. A dead ant….ON MY PANTS! Oooo, yes how very clever. So not only do I sit in my office all day looking monkey-shit insane while swatting at “nothing”, randomly stabbing at “nothing” on my desk and itching the entire time, but now I get to walk around all day at work with a dead ant on my pants! It’s pretty much only a matter of time before they realize the true beauty of this scenario and lay in wait in droves on my chair. Because obviously a horde of dead ants stuck to my pants would be even better…for them anyway.

On the plus side, I can now actually say I’ve killed something with my ass, which, really, I never would have thought was possible. Not that my ass isn’t capable of killing…clearly…but because I never imagined a situation where I would get the chance. Still…ants: 1; Me: 0.