So today’s my birthday and it has been just a series of minor, pebble-in-shoe annoyances.
[ul]
[li]I had to set the alarm for seven am to wake my son up for work, only to have him tell me he works at 9:30 instead of eight. Thanks, son, I almost slept in - that would have been terrible.[/li][li]Did I get breakfast in bed? No. Mrs. Chef eventually made half-hearted noises about making me breakfast and then had the bright idea of ordering breakfast tacos from a local place. Not that this places doesn’t have great tacos, but I COOKED for her on HER birthday. Did I mention that I got to go GET the tacos?[/li][li]Related: The taco place didn’t have any of its excellent brisket, so I had to settle for sausage. Extra calories for something that wasn’t as good.[/li][li]I have been working all day. I could have asked for the day off, but I figured, we can’t go anywhere or do anything, so I might as well make money. Plus my company has this insidious thing they do where personal days, vacation days, etc. don’t count toward overtime - i.e. if I had taken a personal day, time-and-a-half wouldn’t start until I got to the 48-hour mark. Screw THAT. So I’m proofreading stuff on my birthday.[/li][li]and the last thing I did - a 60-plus page document - vanished when I saved it. I can find no record of it at all, which means I have to do it again. But I can’t double-bill the client for something that was (somehow) my fault, so my day just got way longer.[/li][/ul] On the other hand, Mrs. Chef and Lil’ Miss Sous-Chef felt sorry for me about the brisket thing, so they brought back barbecue from their afternoon outing. AND Lil’ Miss Sous-Chef baked me a lemon-raspberry layer cake from scratch. So what am I ranting about?
Old white men, you’re gonna be the death of us all. Not only is that the demographic LEAST likely to wear a mask but I had an Old White Dude SPIT ONTO HIS FINGERS so he could better count his money into my waiting hand.
Remind me to ask my manager: can we just “FUCK OFF” those customers?
Old guy in line, cpl days ago, of course no mask … he fucking spits into his hand to count his money.
ew
Halfway thru his death-rattle the spit dies out, so he HOCKS A LOOGIE INTO HIS PALM and nonchalant as a mofo continues to count out his stripper butt wipes. Into my palm. With his goddamn icky spit.
I have a reminder in my phone to ask mng. about THAT one.
As in "can we tell fuckhats like that to piss off?’
Asshole.
That’s disgusting, and I raise rats for funzies.
I feel like, if I say something is gross, that’s gotta be pretty far on the “oh jeebus, ew” meter.
Right?
…
Also, I have meds for my python, but she’s about to shed so is cranky and weirded out (snakes can’t see when they’re “in blue” i.e. all their scales get opaque, including their eye cap) and it really sucks to have a bunch of PAIN MEDS FUN STUFF but the patient hisses as soon as you move nearby.
Do a google image search for python teeth to understand why I haz some hesitation.
[LIST][li]I have been working all day. I could have asked for the day off, but I figured, we can’t go anywhere or do anything, so I might as well make money. Plus my company has this insidious thing they do where personal days, vacation days, etc. don’t count toward overtime - i.e. if I had taken a personal day, time-and-a-half wouldn’t start until I got to the 48-hour mark. Screw THAT. So I’m proofreading stuff on my birthday.[/li][/QUOTE]
Wait a minute. Is that even legal? I mean what the company’s doing. If it floats your boat to proof on your birthday, I seriously doubt there’s a law against that.
Ho-lee SHIT! (Not the rats, those can be cuddly — even though I suspect you don’t want to get too attached to them). I mean about the phlegm currency. You should have a bucket of bleach to douse cash in before it goes in the till. And they should definitely give you gloves.
purple, when I was cashiering, I once had a homeless guy count a pile of change into my hand. His hands were covered with blood et cetera. But phlegm is worse!
Thanks. Honestly, I was too shocked to react when it happened. Just stunned into staring silently.
I needed to get all pissed off about it, in my own space, so I could “practice” for next time.
…
Current rant:
I have squirty-into-mouth meds for my snake, but she’s about to shed so is cranky and weirded out (snakes can’t see when they’re “in blue” i.e. all their scales get opaque, including their eye caps, so they are essentially blind) and it really sucks to have a bunch of PAIN MEDS HEY FUN STUFF but the patient hisses as soon as you so much as move nearby.
Do a google image search for ball python teeth to understand why I haz some hesitation.
I actually yelled at her (“No, fuck YOU, bitch!”) then felt like a complete idiot.
She hasn’t eaten since October; how the fuck metabolically speaking she can shed is beyond me. (Yes, she has been offered food. Wintertime fasts are common in their breeding season.)
Lemme just unload my brain here, because apparently a few things have been freaking me the fuck out …
Hey, management. You gotta take our temps, fine. I appreciate the forehead scanning thingie.
STOP WALKING UP AND POINTING A HANDHELD “GUN” AT MY FOREHEAD with zero preamble. Sweartagawd one of these days… oh, no, wait, I just stare silently when taken aback.
Okay, well, please stop leaving me (“you’re fine! Ninety six degrees!” You realize that means I’m dead, and cooling in the breeze? Fucking fix the thermometer, christ.) panting in absolute panic, having someone ** walk up and point a thing at my forehead ** is unnerving.
I wish I had the reflexes to kick someone in the kneecap for that.
Here we go, I gotta practice for ages.
Please. Don’t walk up to me and point a handheld ANYTHING directly at my forehead. I likez ya an’ all so my instincts go against self preservation … and then I get hours of brain-fucking while I eat myself up over my (non)reaction.
I just got back from voting in my primary election. We dropped the ball on requesting an absentee ballot, so in we went. Our regular polling place was closed, because I think they needed to consolidate polling, and the line was LONG. That’s fine - everyone’s socially distancing, so it’s likely a bit of an illusion. An hour later, I’m finally up near the entrance. An opponent of the school referendum is out front with a little chart showing how much property taxes will go up is out handing out information cards, and she’s not wearing a mask. Her friend with her IS wearing a mask, and he’s handing out info too.
So I ask her, “excuse, me - why aren’t you wearing a mask?”
She won’t answer, and just replies back with a question “we’re standing 6 feet apart, aren’t we?”
“You didn’t answer my question. And you aren’t 6 feet away when you hand out your little information card, are you?”
No response.
“Listen - you’re allowed to come out here and give your information out. But why can’t you just let your friend hand out the cards so you don’t infect the hundreds of people you’re coming into contact with?”
Nothing. It’s enraging. I’m pissed at her, and I’m pissed at myself for not voting absentee and avoiding the mess. I honestly just don’t understand why people don’t wear masks in public right now. ESPECIALLY if you’re going to be in close contact with hundreds of people. I had previously been on the fence about that referendum, but I voted the hell out of it.
I was the third person to vote this morning. Usually I’m the 10th to 15th. As usual I showed up about 30 minutes after they opened. There were 3 masked workers inside and me, that was it.
Due to COVID (I assume) there were no “I Voted” stickers.
The impossible has happened: my order of disposable masks has actually shipped out of Shenzhen and arrived in Canada after precisely one month to the day after ordering. They arrived, of course, on the wrong (west) coast, a major transportation hub from China, and are now in the [in]competent hands of Canada Post. CP is actually pretty good most of the time with expedited parcels intended to compete with courier services, but this ain’t an expedited parcel, just an ordinary one. So I imagine it will travel cross-country in the usual way, on a wooden cart hauled by an extremely aged donkey, well past working age, who has to stop for a nap every fifteen minutes. The overworked donkey will probably drop dead before he reaches Saskatchewan. This feature, as advertised on the site selling the masks, is known as “free shipping”.
https://www.instagram.com/p/BjXyS8MHN3s/ My big orange Maine Coon mix, Cheeto (shown in the linked image making masks for the family) loves to sit on my desk while I’m working. It’s nice to have him there when he stays in the box lid I have provided for him, but all too often he sprawls over the edge and lays his big heavy head directly on my mouse hand, sometimes causing me to click when I didn’t mean to. I’m tempted to get a glove with spikes on the back to discourage this behavior, but he’d probably just use it to skritch himself. sigh pet love is inconvenient.
See if you can find a CAD/CAM utility that’s compatible with the sewing machine. Then you can initiate the process with the “Enter” key while Cheeto is busy with the mouse.
I no longer want employees. I just want to do my job and not have to tell anyone what to do anymore. One of my employees - a strong, intelligent woman - asks me what to do so frequently that my boss asked me to put it on her development plan. Her comment was, “This woman is trained in the medical field - can she not wipe her own butt without asking you?”
I’m exhausted from working at home with my husband (also working, only in blissful silence in the basement) and children. I have a sign on the back of my monitor that very explicitly tells everyone when I’m busy and can’t talk. Naturally this apparently does not apply to my husband. And of course this is an invitation for the kids to stroll around my desk and yank on my shirt until I turn my head to tell them to stop only to see them mouth something completely incomprehensible at me. I know, small problems. Still, I hate this shit.
Also, people refusing to wear masks out to be smacked. Or, since I see it as kind of equivalent to wearing pants in public only far higher stakes, maybe just forced to go naked from the waist down? My thinking is this: if you saw someone you didn’t know (or even someone you did) sit down with all their pink parts on a public bench, that’d be problematic at the very least. You’d probably be a little creeped out and a lot worried about catching something. The coronavirus is way more contagious than most things that you can catch by sitting on the same seat as someone else had naked. But for some reason wearing a mask (which is way cheaper than pants) is much, much more controversial.
Do your kids have the ability to compose an IM that will pop up on your screen? Not that I think enabling disruptions is a good idea, but it might make them less…disruptive.
