Well, Himself took the hint (perhaps making the stabby motions at his back with the giant chef’s knife was a little over the top) and cleaned the kitchen yesterday, so I was able to make my deee-licious salmon with veggie relish and rice. There were no survivors. Do the math–out of a two pound salmon side I had an 8 oz portion. I think he was hungry or something!
We did not get the goggies bathed yesterday, as apparently (and totally unbeknownst to me) Tuesday is the day when no goggies may be bathed and all the dog wash places are closed. Learn something new every day. :smack: So bathing has been rescheduled for today. It wasn’t a total loss, though, since we had to take them somewhere that seemed like a real destination so we dropped by PetSmart and they had cat food on sale for 40 cents a can–Friskies, which the cats prefer by a long shot. I stocked up… Himself declared that he didn’t need the Gentle Leader collar for Bear so he had the fun of balancing a flat of cat food while managing a wild ass yanky pully enthusiast. Heh heh. He changed his tune on that and admits the head collar is a pretty smart idea. We also weighed the pups and found out that Widget lost five pounds (a good thing, he was getting a leetle pudgy) and Bear lost eight pounds (not a good thing, he’s as skinny as a rail and should be bulking up a bit at his age) so guess who got his rations increased? He’s heartbroken about it, really he is…
This morning everybody has way too much energy–Bear’s been chasing Pratchett around on his thousand room dash exercise regimen and also nomming Widget’s head and butt. I have a fair amount, so I think the rest of us stole Himself’s. I insisted on going to bed at one, so he has no excuse other than pure sloth if he sleeps too much longer. Me, I had to get up early to tell the neighbor dog to STFU–I think he’s getting senile or something, I’ve known him six years and he never does this.
Rigs, The House at Grrr Corner made me snicker–I think I’ve lived there myself a time or two…
I’m leaving the project, after wasting the whole morning and then being told that I have to do things the way Sheboss wants them because otherwise she doesn’t understand.
I cut her off on a guilt trip, but not before she handed me the following gem, which sadly isn’t as compact as that glorious “I don’t pay you guys to think, I pay you to solve problems” which another boss of mine directed to a coworker:
“The work you do when you’re allowed to do things your way is incredible, superb. But I’m in charge of this project, you work for me, not for the client, and you have to do things my way. If you want to stay you have to do what I want how I want it, period.”
“I’ve already said I’m leaving and you’ve already said ‘fine,’ I thought the purpose of this meeting was to establish the procedure for knowledge transfer.”
Transfer may take anything from a week and a half to “I’ll spend the summer in Scotland” but hey, we’ll see.
Pisses me off that she can disregard all my work (the stuff she’s been making me do this morning was a badly-directed, incomplete repeat of work I’ve been trying to do for over 9 months and finally doing since December; I’m doing Las Hilanderas and she wants these Meninas) and I’m supposed to smile and bear it, but oh, if I say “I’ve already told you that’s exactly what I’ve been doing!!! Five minutes ago, I’ve told you!!!” and overdo the exclamation marks, I’m being disrespectful.
Disrespect this… :rolleyes:
Boy. I may come to regret this, but right now and even though the shock still hasn’t gone off, I’m already feeling lighter.
{{Nava}} As my mother always said, “mas vale sola que mal acompanada” (or in English, “you’re better off alone than in bad company”). It’s not just good relationship advice, it’s really good life advice too.
Part of me is insanely jealous of you right now, mostly because I’d love nothing more than to do the same thing… except that it would most definitely screw me over in too many ways to count. I’m biding my time until the one-year mark, and then I’m applying to anything I can find that isn’t this [del]trainwreck[/del] project.
So instead, I shall live vicariously through you until June rolls around. Lucky bum.
Smartypants, you fuh-knee! The cake definitely has a whole lot more lolz in your version, though, I must say.
Well done, Nava. So when do you go back to Spain? (there’s an Armada joke in there somewhere, I’m sure). Working for jerks is so lowering. It drained me of much of my life force and I’m still a bit gun shy.
And well done, picu!
Am eating chocolate coated marshmallow eggs. Bad for me and bad all 'round.
does the wave for picu It’s a high-protein wave.
Oh, there’s no exit date yet, and given that Sheboss’ parting shot today was as follows below, I don’t expect to get one any time soon. But I will email my agent, Sheboss and Heboss tomorrow so I have proof of when I quit, if there comes a point when I say something like “well, I’m starting my Masters in Translation on Monday, so there’s cookies in the cantina for y’all.”
[Sheboss: of course, you understand how things will work until you go.
Me: eh, how exactly?
Sheboss: you’ll do what I tell you to when I tell you to how I tell you to.]
The plan is to send CVs only if something sounds sweet but perhaps not even then, because I know only too well the monsters that can lurk behind “9 months in Barcelona doing one of the modules you know how to make dance.” Mostly, to bid my time, do exactly and only what Sheboss wants how Sheboss wants it (q: what am I supposed to do when we’re in different countries? q2: Mère, toilette!) until something explodes (hopefully neither my fist against her face nor my liver) or until the still-undefined exit date arrives or until I start my Masters in Translation, assuming I’m accepted, in a school near Edinburgh recommended by a Doper. Whichever comes first.
The Edinburgh masters is 1 year (so actually 9 months), I have the money to sit on my ass for a while longer than that even with mortgage in Spain and rent in Scotland, I’m all set up for banking and car (the rental contract I have is between 1/2 and 1/6 what I’d be paying Avis or Hertz for their smallest cars), I’m already set up to do both consulting and translation, and being “autónoma” (a specific kind of self-employment) I’m not linked to my agent or to an employer. I’d been thinking I wouldn’t be able to do it until 2010-2011, but what the heck, if it’s one year prior I won’t cry.
Howdy Y’all! I am stuffded! Corned beef with cabbage, N.O.T. and N.O.T.. NUMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMY!!! I may not even be able to eat ice cream for dessert later. :eek: Ol’ y’all know who is also stuffded.
We’re waitin’ on all the stormy weather we’re supposed to get. Nawth Jawja has had a bunch of it, even tornadoes.
Taxi I’d say yes to Holy Communion bein’ a part of Ash Wednesday services. Then again, I’m Whiskypalian and our main worship service is called Holy Eucharist so pretty much any service led by a Priest will include Holy Communion.
I need a work exit strategy- I got thrown under a bus today at a meeting and I am livid. Trying to decide how to respond- ignore, bide my time and collect info and then fire back, fire back now on principle etc.
I am so confrontation adverse that I hate this. And I will stew about it too.
Nava, sounds like you’ve got plans well in hand. Good luck with your Masters, and good riddance to SheBoss!
I hope your circumstances change for the better, sooner rather than later, Muppet.
::looks at Taz, looks at Mooooom.:: roh-roh…
Tzo, I popped over to the neighbours’ place to see the new paint job. Verrrrry nice. It’s a beige that’s more yellow in the sunlight but shows more of a green at night with lamps on. Love it. Really, though, that was just an excuse to check up on the kitties. They’re fine without me, apparently. Hunh.
Also, wise Mumpers, this grasshopper Mumper seeks enlightenment and cannot NOT ask: what’s a N.O.T.?
taxi, I think that communion practices vary by church. At my church, we have several masses on Ash Wednesday and then several prayer services with distribution of ashes. Masses always include communion; prayer services don’t (AFAIK). I’m sure it’s different in other Catholic parishes. Can’t remember what denomination you are, but…I’m guessing you’d be safest calling (I know you hate that, but…you can do it!) someone. Or do you have anyone’s e-mail address? (I used to hate calling people too. Sometimes still do, but I generally force myself to do it anyway.
Good riddance, Nava. Sounds like you have a viable escape plan. Yay! Please whap Sheboss upside the head with the nearest dead trout for us.
Hope the blood tests are OK, cj.
Sorry about the fun meeting, Soapy. Academic politics are THE WORST. Find a politically savvy person you trust and talk through potential strategies with them. Preferably someone who’s not in your department.
We’re having a birthday celebration for one of my colleagues tomorrow. It’s a surprise. And I think it’s going to work out really well. I hope.
Came home with stress headache, but I’ve eaten (Chunky soup + noodles, part 2) and surfed a bit and now I feel better.
Guess I’ll see what I’m doing with the rest of my evening.
The cake definitely has a whole lot more lolz in your version, though, I must say.
