Unfuckingbelievable - they just called me again. I can get an air horn and blow it into the phone next time they call. 
Why do they always promote assholes? I was working with one today: pompous, condescending and petty. Sheesh, lady, you’re a temporary supervisor not the god damned fucking CEO. I am a respected employee of long standing. I am not your eight year old and I do not appreciate being talked to as if I were.
I guess that people are expected to give out their cell numbers and be constantly available by cell phone.
We have a landline, and each of us has a cell. My husband usually gives out our landline number, because he has to leave his cell phone in his car, for security reasons. He can’t take any sort of recording device into his workplace…including Furbies. At any rate, we get a lot of people calling him during the day, and I have to explain that he is not available by phone during most weekdays, but if you call back after about 4:30 he’ll be able to talk. No, I won’t give you his cell number, because the cell is in his car, he can’t answer it except when he goes for lunch. And no, I’m not giving you his work number, either, because he’s supposed to keep personal calls to a minimum. If he’d wanted you to know either of those numbers, he’d have given you those numbers. Or you can leave your number with me.
A lot of the time, the same person will call back after a couple of hours. Yes, he’s still at work, it’s only 1 PM and I TOLD you that he’ll get home around 4:30. No, I didn’t call him and give him your message and number, it’s not an emergency and I TOLD you that he’s supposed to keep personal calls to a minimum.
Yesterday I got a call that was evidently from a telemarketer, it was about switching my cellphone service. I told him who I was with and that I’m “under penalty” (I don’t remember the English expression, I have to pay a penalty if I change providers in the next few months), he said “thank you for your attention, I’ll make a note, have a nice day” and hung up. My coworkers asked who was he from because most are such pains in the ass that his company actually won several potential customers on account of “hiring people who know when it’s best to drop it”.
Oh, and because of a mishap with payments and a sudden inspiration on Mom’s part, Friday I’m going to see the Senate and then to have dinner at La Favorita yay!
If you come in late to a sold-out show and you complain to me about there being no good seats, I hate you.
A lot.
That is all.
Did you give them an extremely dubious look and ask them, “Are you being serious?” Because I’m with you on this one - you come in late, you gets what you gets.
Regarding the telemarketers, I think next time I’ll bring it to their attention that pissing off The Wife is not a great way to get The Husband’s business. 
I am on vacation tomorrow and Friday. You know what that means? It means not only will I not be physically at my desk tomorrow and Friday but I won’t be working.
Yes, Mr. Customer, that includes your issues. I understand that they’re important. I will pass the problem along to one of my colleagues who probably won’t get it and will be useless. I am sorry about the timing.
However, if you had just gotten me the information you were supposed to on Monday when I asked for it, I would have solved it all by now. Forgive me for not feeling guilty.
One crisis averted: We made an offer on the land yesterday, and the realtor called last night to tell us that it was accepted. (Woohoo! $5k below asking price, at that.) 
Of course, in between making the offer and learning the good news, we argued about stupid things. I don’t know whether it’s Tony’s memory, his hearing, what - he argued with me about something that I had explicitly told him x4, he swore he told me something twice that I didn’t hear (except that I was sitting right there, looking at him, and my hearing is pretty okay if there’s not a lot of background noise,) and then he took some medicine, and three minutes later asked me whether he had already taken his medicine… I think it’s time to call the case manager. Something medical is going on, I think.
And when I tried to discuss my concerns with Tony, giving him examples and explaining that I think that he needs to be evaluated for something medical, he immediately assumed that I was saying that he had a psychiatric disorder. (Not that mental illness is shameful or anything, but he was afraid I was proposing something that would sabotage his career.) I don’t think it’s an issue with medication - he’s down to two meds only, both of which he has been taking for five months with no issues. So? Something to do with the concussion he had when he wrecked? A stroke? Arterial flow issues? What?
I’m so worried…
Nah, I think even that would get me reprimanded. I just tell them where they CAN sit, which is usually in the very back row. It’s always hilarious to me that people don’t want to sit there–those are the best seats in the house! Why they always gravitate towards the lower deck (where you’ll be craning your neck upward the entire time) I will never understand.
I totally understand your worries, Lacunae Matata. Concussions are sooooo unpredictable so memory lapses like that are frightening, and I’m sure that’s part of why he reacted so negatively: I’d bet you he’s frightened, too. Though he’d never admit it, right? Do what you can to get him some updated medical evaluation. I hope it’s something minor & treatable.
I have a painful zit right in the center of my forehead. Of course it’s the kind that won’t come to a head, either.
My neighbors and I would love to support our local farmers market…but how can we do so when the price of produce there is so damn high that we can’t afford to buy any?
I love sitting in the back row, no jackass kids to annoy by kicking the back of your seat constantly 
Ah, I see, the stupid, entitled people are customers, not friends.
I would like to buy stuff at a farmer’s market, too - the one closest to me is on the other side of the city, practically. I walk to Safeway regularly; I would have to drive a long, long way to shop at the farmer’s market - guess who gets my money?
In this post I don’t care about your politics, Mr. Obama.
However, I pit your complete inability to understand when rush hour in Chicago is. Going down Lake Shore Drive at 5:30 is the middle of rush hour. I hope they serve you shit with a side of ass-lint for your political fund raiser dinner tonight. Figure out how to get here without screwing over everyone in the Chicagoland area who has to drive home.
Phew. Update: No scary skin cancer, just a dermofibroma, which is basically a harmless permanent bump. So… not as necessary a visit as I thought and I may have overreacted.
So I guess the only real gripe is once you’ve had it happen once, you never stop freaking out if a whisper of its return seems likely. It’s like how everyone who’s ever fought bedbugs panics at a mosquito bite.
According to my daughter, I have old person cell phone disease - I must talk loudly. If this is true, and people in the next city over can hear me, why does she wait until I’m yelling (her word) into my phone to talk to me? Then, when I wave her away, she gets pissed at me for dismissing her. Ugh.
Hurray that its just a bump! I really was worried for you, and I understand your feelings. But really, this is a good thing.
My rant: Why did nobody tell me that Houston is the land of constant road construction? I don’t think that I need to say anything else on this subject.
Rant 1. My seven year old son just peed all over my feet. He was sleepwalking and seemed to think he was in the bathroom when he was standing on the threshold of his bedroom door.
That sort of caps off the night. My son and husband have been on the outs this week and this evening when he went to bed, he was kind of emotionally fragile. In addition to locking heads with his dad, he’s been kind of tired lately and is dealing with a new schedule and new set of kids at camp. So my husband and I both cuddled him and told him how much we loved him.
The only saving grace is that hopefully he won’t remember it. I don’t love being peed on, but if this is the price I pay for a calmer kid who knows his parents love him, it’s worth it. Thank goodness he can sleep in a bit tomorrow.
Rant 2. Apparently they’re completely reorganizing how some projects are being handled at work. Which is no biggie, except that a) that involves my boss taking every single one of the plum projects and b) that also involves me suddenly inheriting four direct reports when I’ve never actually been someone else’s boss. No title change or pay increase - just, “Here you go. These people report to you now.” On the one hand, I appreciate the apparent trust; on the other, if you take the largest projects from what is apparently now my team, how the fuck is my team supposed to advance? For some reason, I smell another reorg in my future.