Hide The Mess

Three Things

Things that are kind of pissing me off:

1. Hemorrhoids – and also the fact that I can’t actually SPELL it. Every. Single. Time. I get it wrong. Thank GOD for spell check. But seriously, the third trimester has kind of kicked my asshole so far. Seriously, the hemorrhoids are from HELL.

2. Baby shower drama. Sweet JESUS in heaven. There are two people I’m not inviting because I do not want the drama and I also do not actually want to be around them. But I didn’t realize that by NOT including them on the guest list that I would be creating drama for someone else. And for that I am kind of sorry, but only kind of. Mostly I just feel like everyone should STFU because it’s MY baby shower and seriously, I don’t have to invite anyone I don’t want to. This is why I hate this kind of stuff sometimes.

3. Diet and nutrition flack from my midwife. I went for my 30 week visit this week and had to take in a meal chart thing (again), which I did and when she looked at it I immediately got shit for my Dr Pepper habit and having a cheeseburger happy meal one weekend. Seriously, my over all diet isn’t bad, it’s actually pretty good compared to a lot of other people. Granted, I have gained more weight that I wanted to at this point, but it’s not off the charts. And I can tell you it’s not my diet that caused the spike in weight gain, it’s the fact that I can’t muster the energy to work out. Plus, I was on vacation for 10 days so BITE ME. I didn’t leave there upset this time, but I did feel misunderstood as she’s telling me alternatives to some of my food, which were things like a small piece of dark chocolate instead of a Dr Pepper, and I get that it might be a good substitute for some people, but that is like telling an alcoholic to have just a sip of wine before bed. Not going to work. I’m going to eat the whole thing. Same goes for fat free fudgesicles. OMG How I would love to have one, but I can’t. Because I won’t have one. I will have the box. I told her that and she backed off the sweets suggestions, and honestly, I know she is just trying to help me be as healthy as possible when I have this baby, I think I just feel sensitive about my diet and exercise. I am not as perfect in those areas as I expected myself to be and I fight feeling disappointed in myself A LOT.

rainy monday maddness

We were supposed to come back from Shreveport today, but came back yesterday instead. Now, I've known we weren't going to stay through Sunday, so I guess I could have technically canceled the vacation day request I'd already submitted but there's a whole thing with the time system at my office and canceling it was going to be a pain in the ass so I said eff it and just kept today as a vacation day. Which I am actually glad that I did because I am on edge! I don't know why really, but I feel like I could either A.) run around the block or B.) kill someone. I think it might be this brand of coffee we switched to because it was on sale. I assume that's the reason I am AMPED UP!

I've checked my work email a couple of times and I am happy I'm not there today because people are pissing me off and annoying me via email, I can not imagine what it would be like if I actually had to deal with them in person. I do not hide the facial expression "you are stupid and annoying" very well and I actually don't think I hid it at all in one email exchange with a coworker who was trying to help but really, it's my task, don't help me unless I ask you to.  I don't start working on your shit for you so don't do it for me. Also, this coworker is annoying just in general, so the fact that she tried to "help" me by doing part of my work was all the more irritating. Man. I am so irritable! This better be PMS.

Because I Can't Hold It In

It's called Spell Check DAMN IT. If you're going to write something and the topic, like, the whole point of the stupid writing thing is misspelled through out the entire piece, guess what? Your point is lost. Fool.

And before you start thinking I'm all Judgey McJudgerson I happen to come from a very long and prestigious line of bad spellers. I love them. I think that they rule. Their ability to spell or not spell is irrelevant to their awesomeness. But you can bet your ASS that if they are writing something for public consumption, if they are trying to make a passionate point, spell check is their motherfucking B.F.F.

Despite all my rage I'm still just a rat in a cage

Hormonal, pms rage is such an ugly color on me and this morning I was all lathered up in rage! rage! rage! I hated every single person who managed to cross my path. I thought everything they said was stupid. Even people who didn't directly cross my path, people that I could  just hear talking from across the room pushed the rage button and it took all of my stretched to the limit restraint not to walk around the corner and punch some fuckers in the face simply for being ... well ... fuckers.

Over the course of my first couple of hours at work I managed to:

Throw my glasses in a fit like a three year old. Twice.
Roll my eyes - really hard! - at the retarded ness of Goings On
Mouth the words Ass Hole like the Very Mature Person that I am.
Cry tears of RAGE in the bathroom stall.
Imagine walking up to That One Dude and screaming I HATE YOU! You know, because of my gigantic wad of maturity.
Say the words "y'all are fucking brilliant." sarcastically inside my head

Then I turned my rage inward (as all fucking psycho insane people do) and contemplated banging my head on a wall somewhere as punishment. (I wish I were making that up)

Obviously, I need a vacation. Or more therapy. Or a goddamn case of Midol.

I'm Going To Pop THAT Weasel

A little message to The Weasel who works behind the counter at the gym: Knock it the fuck off with your power trip you weirdo.  Good GOD. He's like that kid in Junior High who gets to be hall monitor and is all assholey and dickheaded with his "Let me see your hall pass, now." bullshit. I go to the gym almost every morning at the buttcrack of dawn, so this little Weasel knows me and yesterday he was taking his SWEET ASS TIME getting towels for the three people standing at the counter, chatting them up about some shit and I decided, since I bring my own towel (theirs are too scratchy and something about those towels tweaks me out) and I'm sorta, kinda just a little bit running late, so I decided I'll just get him to scan my card on the way out and head to the locker room. And The Weasel yells at me to stop! He says he has to scan my card. No exceptions! Like The Fucking Soup Nazi ... "No Soup For You!"  only NOT FUNNY and ... no soup.  I wanted to punch him in his skinny, pasty, asshole face. And I am NOT a violent person. Shut up. I am NOT.  And this isn't the first time he's pulled this crazy hall monitor drunk with power bullshit on me ... a few months ago there was a Sauna Incident, the details of which I will spare you, but to this day ... IT PISSES ME RIGHT THE HELL OFF. Yesterday I just let The Weasel scan my card and rolled my eyes at him REALLY HARD, because there were witnesses, and kicking his ass was no longer an option. But he better not give me any shit this morning or I wi ... oh who am I kidding?  I'll just roll my eyes at him and then compose mean entries about him because yeah ... that'll show him!

Dear Midol

Dear Midol,

Please make a version of your product that specifically treats bitchy.  I can attest to the fact that after taking ten of your current so called pre-menstrual relief caplets,  I AM STILL A BITCH. I'm still looking for things to be pissed off about and if I can't find anything, I'll simply call upon a particular memory of when I was pissed off last week, or last month or last year and proceed to get good and fucking pissed about THAT. Obviously, your product has failed to alleviate the raging case of BITCH FROM HELL that seems to be plaguing me. So please get with your scientists or whoeverthehell is making these things and fix it PRONTO or I will be forced to go MEDIEVAL ON YOUR ASS.

Thanks A Million!
Tina

A Post Where I Use The Word Fucktard.

I totally want to punch The Know It All in the face right now. I’m not entirely sure who he (or she!) thinks he (or she!) is but I have yet to receive the memo that states he (or she!) is my new boss so hey! You! The Know It All … SHUT YOUR PIE HOLE. He (or she! .. fuck it … I’m using ‘he’ but only because the ‘or she!’ thing is whippin me but for the record it could be a she!) is working my LAST DAMN NERVE with the whole calling meetings while my boss is out of the office thing, meetings that are unnecessary and insane and also? I HATE meetings. And to have this tool call one for reasons that are so stupid merely attending them subtracts IQ points (and I don’t have any to spare!) is activating the RAGE SEQUENCE. Oh and also, sending me directive emails as if he can BOSS ME AROUND and telling me I did something well as if I needed his goddamnmotherfucking approval … Oh. My. God. I really might have to say something. Thing is, sometimes I’m not sure if he realizes that he’s coming off like a dick and I’ve even thought maybe it was just me and I was the one with the ginormous problem, because I usually am the one with the ginormous problem, but I’ve talked to some coworkers and the consensus is that he’s a CONDECENDING FUCKTARD. Oy Freakin’ VEY. 

The Rantings of A Pet Sitter

A few years ago I was doing quite a bit of pet sitting and needed to vent some things. Here are those things, in list form.

1. Ask people to care for your pets as soon as you know when you’re leaving. Even if your dates are flexible, it’s nice to give someone as much notice as possible, and it gives you more time if your first choice isn’t available. Of course, last minute trips happen, but don’t make it your M.O. to wait until the night before you leave to ask your friends to watch the pets. It’s rude.

2. Leave written instructions for how you want your pets cared for. Example: “The dogs normally get fed at night, one scoop of food in each bowl. The older dog will try and eat both bowls, so we feed them in separate rooms.” Or, “fill the food bowls up, they graze all day”. Or “please leave the toilet seat up, the cats like to drink out of there”.  Even if you’ve already gone over it verbally, it’s nice to have it written out so that nothing gets overlooked.

3. Pick up your home so that it is moderately clean. It doesn’t have to be “The in-laws are coming for dinner, OMG! scrub the baseboards” clean. Just make sure that the house is picked up for the most part. As someone who has done a lot of pet sitting, it’s not fun to walk into a home to care for someone’s animals and it’s a disaster area. If you have dogs, and you go out of town, and your house is a mess, how will I know what the dogs did, and what you left? How will I know which toys are acceptable for the pets to play with? Even if I’m at your house socially all of the time, and I’ve seen your home a mess a hundred times … pick up before you go out of town. Not only will the pet sitter appreciate it, but you will too when you come home from a trip and your home doesn’t look like a fucking tornado hit it.

4.  Leave your contact information, the vet’s contact information, and the name of someone else that can be on stand by if something happens and I can’t make it, or I need help because one of the dogs got into the trash you didn’t bother to take out before you left. 

5.Leave the leash out, or at least in your written instructions, tell me where it is so I don’t have to fashion one for myself, or go on a hunt looking for it if I need to take your dog somewhere. Leave the cat carrier out if you have cats….ditto on the reason.

6. Leave a little cash, maybe twenty bucks.  Not as payment, we’ll have worked that out, or it may be understood that it’s volunteer, but leave some cash anyway in case there’s an emergency you’re not leaving the pet sitter using their own money, which they may not have to spare, to care for your animals.

7. If you have cats, clean the litter box before you leave. I cannot stress this enough. And I will know if you don’t. I have three cats; trust me, I will know. If you don’t expect me to scoop the litter, because you’re only gone for two days, CLEAN THE FUCKING LITTER BOX BEFORE YOU LEAVE.  This is your pets bathroom, if it’s nasty and dirty, well, he just might not want to go in there, and I really, really don’t want to have to clean up cat urine. It is hard to get out, and honestly, you should show your animal a little more respect than that.

8. If you expect me to clean the box, LEAVE THE SUPPLIES OUT. I don’t really want to go hunting for the scooper, the bags you use for the litter or the litter itself. If you don’t want it thrown away in the house, SAY THAT or it’s going in the kitchen garbage. (this is where written instructions can be handy…if I don’t remember what you said on the phone two weeks ago, I can refer to the written instructions  and there will be no confusion)

9.  If you have a complicated alarm system, please make sure you’ve gone over it with me, and left instructions on how to turn it off, or who to call in case I set it off. Leave me your code, your code word with the security company and for the love of GOD don’t expect me to REMEMBER it….write that shit down. I know it is TOP SECRET. I know that you don’t want it falling into the wrong hands.  I am a responsible person, I will not give it to anyone. I will leave the paper for you to destroy when you come home. I will not make copies, hand it out to the neighborhood folks, post it on the internet….I mean, if you trust me to come into your home while you are gone and care for your animals, don’t insult me by not giving me the security information.

10. If you have plants you want me to water, tell me. If you have mail and / or newspapers you want me to bring inside, tell me. I don't do these things automatically.

11. For outdoor animals, please let me know if one of them is afraid of thunderstorms, likes to run away, can jump the fence, or has any other weird behavior. I love animals, I will make a point of coming over if it’s going to storm and let the dog in.

12. If there are medications that I need to give your dog, please tell me how you do it so I can replicate it. If the dog won’t eat it unless it’s covered in peanut butter, leave the peanut butter out.  If your pet lizard needs some weird ass homeopathic shit put in his water every morning, it’d be nice if you mentioned that. If I come in and find him all jacked up, or he won’t drink the water with out it….you’ll be getting a call on your trip from the pet sitter. If it’s no big deal that he won’t drink, mention that too…. remember, this is what I’m there for, to make sure that your animals are cared for, loved, talked to and fed. I don’t just come in, fill the bowls and leave. I take care of your animals as if they were my own.

For some reason people think pet sitting is pretty easy. In fact, that’s how most people try to sell it when you asking someone do to it. They say things like “Oh, just come by a couple of times and make sure they have food and water”. But that is misleading. Because if you have just one dog who is used to your company in the evenings…don’t tell the pet sitter to just drop by once and feed him. A good pet sitter will come by at least twice a day for at least an hour. Yes, an HOUR and actually CARE for your pets. You do not have to sell it that it’s an easy thing, having animals isn’t easy, and the truth is, if you treat them as an after thought  I probably won’t want to sit for you again. Your animals are part of your family, and sometimes, you can’t bring the whole family to visit your folks, I get that, but don’t minimize their care either. It makes you a shitty pet owner.   

Crickets Are Evil

I’m scared of crickets. I don’t mean the regular kind of scared. It borders on a phobia. Ok, maybe it’s not just on the border of Phobiaville  but more like in the goddamn capital.  I can’t help it. I know it’s not rational. I realize they are harmless bugs but something inside my brain FREAKS OUT.  And dude … cricket season is coming and I’m already frantically on the look out for them wherever I go.   I’ve already had one incident in the gym parking lot where I ran like a crazy person from what might possibly have been a cricket only to discover it was a LEAF.  Swear to God, it was a cricket shaped leaf.  Thank GOD no one else was in the parking lot to witness my spastic, freaked out running. And this is only the beginning.  There are many aborted trips to the grocery store and gas station in my future.  I simply can not get out of the car when they are everywhere, I just … can’t.  I used to keep how very fucking freaked out I was by them a secret because there is always a chance someone will  want to torment me with my irrational fear and I can’t take that chance. Usually that someone …  is a guy.  For some reason guys think it’s all funny to take a dead cricket and throw it at you … because stark raving irrational fear that makes someone cry is sooooo fucking hysterical.  “Ha ha ha. She’s scared of crickets, let’s put a bunch of them on her desk. Ha ha ha.”  Yes asshole, so funny. And now, we are no longer friends and you can fuck right the hell off.  Nowadays I try to make it really clear, leaving no room for confusion that it is NOT FUNNY to throw crickets at me, or even PRETEND you’re throwing them at me and if you do … that’s it … we’re not friends,  I will not forgive you and I will wish a horrible, disfiguring disease on you.  There are other bugs that sort of freak me out … those big, gigantic roaches that are sometimes called Palmetto bugs or water bugs or whatever the hell they are. All I know is that they are huge, they are menacing and they sometimes FLY.  I have actually called someone to come over at 11pm at night to kill one for me because it was holding me hostage in the living room and it started smoking all my cigarettes and using the phone to invite all its friends over.  I could not get close enough to smash the roach on steroids with my shoe. Same went for the bug spray.  It didn’t reach and it ended up just getting me a little high from the fumes.   If I can’t kill it FROM ANOTHER ROOM, that means I have to get too close. I couldn’t even get the cat to go in there, she just looked at me like “um, no.  That is absurd.  I’m not interested.” But that’s a whole different kind of freaked out than the cricket thing and the next few months, if the cricket season is bad, will be my own personal version of hell. I’m already hoping for an early freeze. And by early I mean this afternoon.

A Short List Of Things That Are Annoying Me

A Coworker in the midst of selling their house and buying another one is getting on my last nerve. I want them to just shut the fuck up about it. Does the fact that I am NOT EVEN LOOKING AT YOU but continuing to type away on my computer not CLUE YOU IN that I just don’t fucking care? I have had to endure endless talk involving floor plans, realtors, buyers, sellers, what neighborhoods are too shitty, the size of the houses and how much money is being made. I don’t CARE.  Idiot.

For some reason, this one person, uhhh … The Know It All (no not you Chris .. heh) .. thinks I’m their  therapist. And people? There is some FUCKED UP SHIT that I shouldn’t know about going on in The Know It All’s life. I had to talk to my own therapist about it. No lie.  It’s disturbing. And normally I can listen, but not so much today … because I woke up with my mood switch stuck on ANNOYED.

The E-Bay item I’m going to bid on … some fucker just bid on it. I will not make the same mistakes I made with the Enjoy TAB t-shirt that some asshat outbid me on. I’m making The BFF do the bidding for me instead.  I can’t be trusted not to pay entirely too much just because I’m still harboring resentment over the Enjoy TAB incident.

People I DO NOT KNOW that email me dumb ass shit like  “Is it just me, or wouldn't Monday mornings be spent a lot more productively laying in bed snuggling ....?” What is it exactly that I’m supposed to say TO A COMPLETE stranger about being in bed? A topic, mind you,  that is actually on the list of things that are NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS until we are friends, which we are NOT.

The person who audits my work keeps waiting until the LAST FUCKING MINUTE to do it and then wants ME to rush around correcting my mistakes, which are not vast in quantity  but when I make one I like to make it really, really, fuckin’ stellar. So it would BEHOOVE you Lazy Auditor to get around to my stuff a little sooner. Especially since you’ve had the  paperwork for THREE  FUCKING WEEKS. My motto: Poor planning on your part does not constitute urgency on my part. Learn it. Live it. Love it.

I do believe it’s time for a Midol.