Category Archives: Work

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Bitch please!

It\’s rare that I post anything about work, however since I don\’t have horrific dates to post about; work it is! I really just need to bitch. It’s my blog, I’m allowed so there!
I actually enjoy my job, most of the time. Lately it’s been loaded with major ball suckage. The cook we had (who sucked ass on several levels anyway) is no longer with us so my work load has increased exponentially (since I\’m working both sides) while my patience has dwindled down to non-existent. I also don’t deal well with stupid.

We have a lot of replacement staff on hand right now and needless to say, it’s Fucking. Everything. Up.

Dislike.

So we have this one woman and I wasn’t impressed with her personality from the get go, but I always try to give people the benefit of the doubt. She’s rude, loud, and obnoxious and has the poorest observation skills. She also mumbles & only speaks French. So that makes conversations with her interesting almost mission impossible…

I could go on about several of her fails but I’ll stick to just the one. So, today I’m at work in my kitchen de-boning salmon for lunch. So needless to say, my hands are covered in salmon slime.

Yeah I know that’s hot.

Anyway, she comes in and grabs a glass of water and I’m standing there doing my thing and she’s talking (mind you, she didn’t address me directly so I\’m not listening) and I’m doing my thing ergo not paying one iota of attention to her because she could be talking to herself for all I know. Then I hear this:

EXCUSE ME!!!!!!!!!!!

I whipped around, wondering who in the hell she thought she was talking to ME like that IN MY FUCKING KITCHEN no less. Then she asks me this:

Pouvez-vous  passer le savon s\’il vous plaît?

I just looked glared at her with the ultimate are you fucking kidding me look on my face.

Seriously? Are you blind? Or just really fucking stupid?

I’m clearly busy and my hands are covered in shit and you want me to pass you the fucking soap? Jesus Christ! One of these days, I’m just going to haul off and punch her in the damn face! I don’t know who she thinks she is, but honey I got news for your ass: I CAME FIRST AND IT’S MY FUCKING KITCHEN CUNT! SHOW SOME ME SOME FUCKING RESPECT BITCH.

 Never mind the fact that she had no business being in there in the first place, let alone washing her own dishes*.  Especially  when you\’ve been working in one of the classrooms that have had an illness outbreak.  Sunlight ain\’t going to cut it it sister.

I really need to get out of this industry before I accidently on purpose stab someone.  Common sense isn\’t that common and you can\’t fix stupid…  Yet people like that seem to flock to me.  WTF is it about me?!?  Seriously!

End rant,carry on.

*In case you\’re wondering why doing your own dishes is a no-no at my job, it\’s simple. Germs. Also people don\’t know how to wash their dishes correctly and end up putting them back in the cupboard when they\’re still wet and then it get\’s all sludgy and moldy (true story, happened last summer. Awesome!) so while people may think they\’re helping me, the reality is you\’re not. So please, just don\’t.  
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Life\’s little conversation gems…

OK so bear in mind I had a major fat kid vacation so my healthier habits basically went into the toilet.  As a result I\’m making a conscious effort to do a little better.  One of those things would be to consume more water, I\’m tired of feeling lethargic and dehydrated.  So this is a good thing, having to pee all the time, not so much.  As a result of this, this conversation happened today at work.

Me: Good lord, I need to pee again!

Co-worker: Happens to people who are pregnant.

Me: Nope, that\’s *not* possible.

C0-worker: Sure it is, my friend got pregnant and she was on the pill.

Me: (laughing) No (insert co-workers name here), I can\’t get pregnant because I don\’t have anyone to have sex with.

C0-worker: *Awkward silence*  Soooooo lunch?

We both had a good laugh over the whole thing.  Maybe you just had to be there?

 

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Monday Fcukery

Ever have one of those days where you make the mistake of waking up and crawling out of your nice, warm cozy bed only to discover the the universe clearly has it out for you and decides that it\’s OK for you to be fucked up the ass without your permission and then proceeds to blow it\’s load all over your face?  Which then in turn makes you want to throw yourself in front of a really fast moving bus?

Yeah, that\’s known as Monday Fuckery.

For real.

Since  Bob Geldof asked in a song tell me why I don\’t like Monday\’s?  I\’ll tell you.  Not as crazy as the inspiration behind the song mind you, clearly Barbara Ann Spencer had some serious issues or something.

Shit happens when I don\’t get enough sleep/

No really. It does.

So technically this is Sunday night antics leads to Monday Fuckery.  But whatever.

Point being I stayed up too late on Sunday night get all uber excited about my new smart phone and spent farrrrrrrr too much time playing angry birds   (speaking of angry birds & smart phones, it\’s FREE for Android and NOT for iphone HA!) anyway moving along…

So wake up at 5:30 am after going to bed at almost midnight (yeah I know smooth move there Steph) and it was FREEZING in my room.  Glass cutter needed?  Just give me a call, I\’m there!  I guess this is what I get for sleeping naked?  Hellooooooooo it\’s AUGUST FFS!  Jammies should not be required in what is considered the \’summer months\’ seriously.  My bed, so cozy & so very awesome.  I LOVE my bed.  Perhaps a little too much?

\"\"

 Seriously.  Look at that!  Doesn\’t it just make you want to crawl in it and have the most crazy sex you have ever had  epic sleep ever!?!

Of course it does.

Memory foam everything FTW!

So yeah, dragging my naked self out of bed at the butt crack of dawn, freezing my ass off (literally) wondering where in the hell my fuzzy robe was while having to pee really bad.  I really should just leave it on the floor instead of hanging up all nice and proper like.

Because that would make sense.

Anyway get myself mostly put together and then I can\’t find my damn jeans.  You know the one\’s I had in my hand and put down briefly to go do something and then for the life of my couldn\’t find again.  I mean seriously, WTF is that?  So there I am, trolling around my apartment mostly dressed sans pants while muttering where in the fuck are my jeans to myself whilst looking for said jeans.  Thankfully I had a clean pair on my \’chair-drobe\’ because lord knows, I hate doing laundry and the 5 foot pile of it in my room is testament to that very fact.  So after wasting loads of time getting ready and missing the bus that I wanted to take, I finally got my ass en route to work.

Staggered into the dep at the metro because this guy has some killer croissants and he also has coffee.  AKA the breakfast of champions.  It was insanely windy outside and all I wanted was to suck back some of my awesome coffee delicious-ness and get through my day.  Anyway, mission accomplished.  Cafe was consumed, as was the awesome croissant AND Can-Am not only arrived on time but they also didn\’t fuck up my produce order.  The best part, my banana\’s were actually fit for immediate consumption (they\’re the easiest to prepare) unlike the previous order where all 20lbs yes TWENTY POUNDS of my banana\’s were a hideous shade of day glow green!  Something very much like number 1\"\"

when really, ideally they\’d be closer to 5 seeing as how I order  then half & half.  So in theory they should be 2-3 & 4-5.  Took almost 2 weeks for those bastards to ripen!  Anyway, I had hope.  Hope that maybe today wouldn\’t turn out to be such a craptacular day!

I was wrong. 

Walking by Angela\’s desk, she commented that Jack Layton had lost his battle to cancer.  Figures that one of the few rare gems in politics, that most people liked died of some hideous disease.  Which hardly seems fair.  I pay scant attention to politics because well that always starts up a heated debate of some sort doesn\’t it?  That\’s why I\’d rather talk about food.  Everyone likes food.  The kitchen is usually the hub of anyone\’s home and it\’s comforting.  When people get into heated debates about food it\’s usually happy one\’s.  Amiright?

So yeah that sucked, more then a little.  Can\’t wait for the next election.  o.0

So my afternoon progressed without too much hassle.  Save for the odd incident here and there, but whatever.  By now, the caffeine high is winding down and I go from being tired to bitchy and tired.  Then I had to do laundry, at work no less.  Which generally isn\’t an issue, except that the settings on the machine are totally and utterly fubar\’ed to the point that I waste FAR too much time doing laundry, more then I should.  Of course, there\’s a fuck ton of it too.  YAY!

Then one of my co-workers pops her head in there to let me know that she had to leave her bowls on the counter because the dishwasher was full.  I\’m muttering (mostly to myself) how in the hell can the dishwasher be full?  We had almost no kids, ergo not that many dishes.

You know why the dishwasher was full?

BECAUSE SOME PEOPLE ARE FUCKTARDS AND DON\’T KNOW HOW TO FILL A FUCKING DISHWASHER PROPERLY!  Jesus H. Christ!

Nothing and I do mean nothing irritates me more, than having to re-arrange the damn dishwasher like it\’s my fucking living room.  Seriously!   So because of that, I now have to construct an instruction sheet (with pictures) to show exactly how one fills the dishwasher.  You know, like I would have to for say my 3 year old\’s.  Because you know, lying an empty yogurt container on it\’s SIDE on top of a bunch of other dishes is the most effective way to get it clean.

This is why I don\’t like Monday\’s, even though you didn\’t ask.

I told you anyway.  You\’re welcome.

Let\’s see you write a song about that Geldof.

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Home reno\’s suck balls!

Seems like just about everyone I know is doing some sort of home reno work.

Now don\’t get me wrong, there\’s always that awesome sense of accomplishment that comes with doing something yourself.  I\’m also VERY stubborn!  Also picky.  Very. Picky.

I like things to be done my way OK?

OK for real though, my slumlord landlord is a douchebag.  The property manager is nice, but up to her armpits in buildings and tends to get sidetracked.

A lot.

So needless to say, if I can fix it myself.  I do.

Because it\’s easier for me to just knock the price off my rent and send her in the receipts for minor repairs.  So when I first moved in here, there was some minor (or at least appeared to be) water damage to my hallway ceiling.  Of course she said she would get someone in to fix it.  Hell even the \”handyman\” said he would come in and fix it for me.  Mind you this was after waiting 3 weeks for the installation of my new water heater oh and 6 months of having almost NO heat!

So I got sick of the yellow hall/kitchen area and decided to paint.  Painters tape is your friend.  Except for mine, because well hell that would be easy and make sense.  So in spite of my using one of those nifty painting tools that pretty much ensures that you WON\’T get paint on your ceiling, molding, whatever and gives you a nice clean line…  My almost 6 feet tall, impatient over zealous self almost ALWAYS hits the freaking ceiling with paint.

Of course my ceiling is apartment white and the color on the walls?  A nice dark mocha color.  So while I did make a valiant effort to clean the shit off, my mess off the ceiling, it would seem that I missed a spot and likely stopped giving a shit  got sidetracked thought awe hell I can paint over that.  Which I totally can, although that would mean taking care of the peeling ceiling in the middle of the hall.

Do. Not. Want.

So I let it go, much to my OCD\’s dismay.  Pete even offered to fix it for me, I blew him off by saying that I wasn\’t sinking anymore money/time/effort into this place when it\’s my landlords problem to have this shit fixed.  Not mine. Except I of course was not satisfied with the shade of my accent wall/ceiling color variation.  I wanted it to be much lighter.  I thought well, the hallway isn\’t that long and I hate the paint on the ceiling because it looks like crap!

So I thought I would tackle this project by myself.

That was a huge mistake.

You see, last summer when I was dating John he came over beofre I got home and sent me a text to inform me that there was a flood in my hallway.

Awesome.

Which made it even worse.  It\’s blatantly obvious to me that upon close inspection this wasn\’t the first time that this has happened.  So Sunday night I got the bright idea to fix it myself.  Because I was sick of it, and the property manager told me that it was OK to tackle minor repair projects on my own.  Actually I think she prefers it because she knows it\’s just the cost of the materials and nothing else.

What I thought was going to be a simple patch job, has turned into an epic nightmare!  You see, the water damage has made the sub flooring above (I live in the sub basement) and my ceiling very soft.  Not soft enough to shove my finger into my neighbors bathroom above, although I fear that someday it\’s going to leak again and their tub\’s going to land in my hallway.  So I have stripped away the previous crap that lay beneath and have slowly layered up the plaster and it\’s mostly even.  Far from perfect but hell in order to make that sucker straight the cost would be exponential and you know what?

I don\’t own the place, so I don\’t care!

Plastering was easy, I have it down to a partial science now.  One that requires minimal sanding when finished.  Usually.  Except this time, I didn\’t factor in air bubbles.  Usually my patch jobs are small holes and minor things.  While this isn\’t huge by any means it was still a lot of freaking work!  I have minimal tools to get the job done so long story short, after layering on an ass-load of plaster I sanded the ceiling down by hand.

I was covered from head to toe in dust!  It looked like a 50lb bag of flour have exploded all over me and my hall.  Lesson to be learned here:

Drop cloths are not only your friends, they cover all your shit oh and the un-bleached canvas ones make great fabric to reupholster your sofa with!