This has happened again, so here we go. I am a secretary/bookkeeper. I am not a babysitter. Clients need to take their little darlings into the boss’ office with them, not leave them for me to look after.
Just stoke them up on chocolate while they’re in your capable hands.
After years of vegetarianism I recently rejoined the ranks of carnivory.
And I have discovered the most shocking thing.
If you order a non-vegetarian meal, you (quite often) do not get vegetables!
All this time I was paying less for veggie meals and assuming it was because they didn’t have meat in them. Silly me. Because I just asked if I could get veggies in my meal and they said no. I asked if I could have vegetables instead of chicken in my pad thai and they said no.
I’m talking here mostly about asian dishes, stir-fries and pad thai and things that normally (or, so I thought) contain both meat AND vegetables. But it seems it’s not to be.
This goes far to explain the poor eating habits of many people. They don’t get veggies in a meal unless they pay extra for them.
Also explains why people seem to equate “vegetables” with “vegetarian.” Seems non-vegetarian meals don’t include vegetables. Who knew.
featherlou, I agree completely. I think it makes sense for people with kids to kick in for extras (that aren’t paid for by property taxes) themselves. No way will mine be hitting up friends, neighbors and family to purchase useless items to pay for band uniforms, I’d much rather just write a check.
Chocolate bars, however, are probably exempted. Mmmmm, chocolate!
Um, that might’ve been me, if it was in the Seattle area a few days ago. I completely misread where the lanes went and honked at someone who wasn’t doing anything wrong at all. Felt like a complete idiot afterward. If it was you, I sincerely apologize. 
Nah, it wasn’t in Seattle. FWIW, I find the streets in Seattle quite confusing. I’ll have to remember not to honk at anyone there unless I’m really, really, sure I’m right.
I think that would be the perfect time for me to take my lunch break out of the building. Or any other errand that would involve me leaving my desk for as long as it takes for the client to finish up. I may be many things, but I ain’t no babysitter for no one!
Seriously, have you talked to your boss about this? You have work to do, and I can’t imagine that is isn’t disrupted by someone leaving their kids with you. Or is it one of those “she’s a female, so we’ll just assume that she’s happy to answer the phones and look after children” deals?
It may be that. I brought it up to the boss today and he said, “Well, they’re not bothering you, are they?” I said yes, the child in question was playing with my papers and office supplies, so I had to send her to her mother. I have no objection to having a child hang around if they’re not pestering me; my “office” is the lobby and we have a tank of interesting fish, which the children will often look at while their parents are with my boss. What I do mind are the children who mess with the stuff on my desk. I have had good results asking them politely to stop, but I have a feeling that one day, someone’s little darling will run crying to Mama about how mean the lady in the front was to them, because that’s how some children are.
My boss doesn’t seem to think it’s that big a deal. He said he would remind people to take their kids in with them in the future, though.
It’s a small office, though, and the only place I could really go is the bathroom.
To retail workers who zone out: You’re not a robot. If you would pay even the slightest bit of attention to what you’re doing and use even the barest minimum of common-sense, I would be happy. You ring up my order. The register reads: $5.19. You hold out your hand for my money. I give you a ten and two dimes, because I figure you can give me a five and a penny back, nice & easy. But then you start handing me back a bunch of change. I realize that you neglected to hit the “total” button before asking me for money, and the tax hadn’t been added in. O.K., honest mistake - not a big deal. But WHY would you take change from me and then give me MORE change back? Does that make any sense? That should set off a little alarm in your head that something went wrong. At that point, you might want to try to discover what went wrong rather than going on autopilot. I honestly would like to think you’re not that stupid, but rather that you just aren’t concentrating on your job.
I ordered my copy of the new Harry Potter book from Amazon a couple days ago. Because book shopping is fun, I ordered another book as well. Oh, how exciting!
I just got an email from Amazon saying that my other book has been shipped. This is probably completely irrational, but I am totally annoyed that they couldn’t just hold onto it a couple extra days and ship the two books together, especially since I PICKED the “ship them together” option, not the “ship them as they become available”. It just seems so inefficient to mail two books seperately, a couple days apart, to the other freaking side of the world.
I fly more and more. It’s raining today. There is thunder. I know that this means that I likely will sit at my pissant little airport all afternoon, then my trip will get cancelled. I’m all about air safety. So, no flying when there is lightning nearby? Cool.
It seems more and more that airlines will not fly IN THE RAIN. People. It rains every freaking day down south. I have to fly through Atlanta a lot and trying to land there at 3: whatevah today is a guarantee that I will be doing the 38,000 feet shuffle for a while. Miss my connecting to my final destination.
Lightning or dangerous hail and whatnot? Sure. But rain? Regular fuckin’ rain? Are your planes made of some delicate cardboard-based composite these days? My trip from L.A. through Atlanta to NY last month took me SIX HOURS longer than it should have, because it was raining in New York airspace.
What. The. Fuck. I will be glad to march back in here and declare my rant as completely without merit if I get to my destination city this afternoon. But I won’t have to. Because it’s raining outside.
Cartooniverse
Hey newbie eBay buyer dipshit: fuck you for negging me.
You buy something from me on Thursday and neg me the following Tuesday morning because you haven’t received it yet? ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?
I know I didn’t get it shipped until Monday (busy weekend at work) but that still falls within my policy of “items usually shipped within three buisness days.” And at any rate your DVD was shipped USPS First Class so you should get it by Thursday. That’s an item received in a week - pretty good for something bought on eBay, jackass.
And no, I didn’t see your “email” inquiring about when I would ship the item. And now I see you’ve done this to several other buyers. If you’re doing this because you’re a newbie, well, that’s still no excuse. If you’re doing this for kicks, well, fuck you up the ass with a razor-studded broomstick…twice.
3 sorta mini rants:
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I pit you, Feria, for having a picture on the outside of the hair color box that doesn’t match the color in the box. My intention was to make my brown hair warmer, add a hint of burgundy. Now I have a big pink head. This color couldn’t look faker if it came off a Care Bear.
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I pit you, guy I dated earlier this year, for sending me such a shitty e-mail. Sending me an e-mail detailing how I hurt you does not indicate you’ve “gotten over me.” Informing me of all the ways I can change to “improve my next relationship” is not doing me a favor; it’s being passive-aggressive. The truth is, I don’t really care if you want to believe I’m the biggest bitch in the world; if that’s what you need to do to move on, go ahead, because to be brutally frank, you’re not in my life anymore anyway. But the passive-aggression and the guilt-tripping were chief among the reasons I knew we wouldn’t work out, so sending me a passive-aggressive, guilt-tripping e-mail confirms that decision, it doesn’t make me regret it. I think you are so invested in your own emotional victimhood, keeping careful score of all the ways the world has screwed you, that you are probably secretly pleased to add me to the list of cosmic and karmic injuries done to you personally. That way, you don’t have to take any responsibility for anything bad that happens to you – it’s all just a series of mean people, out to get you. It’s hard for me to see how that’s healthier than just figuring, “hey, we had some good times, but it just didn’t work out,” but – whatever gets you through the night. But if you could please keep your drama-queen promise and make sure this swan-song e-mail is in fact the last time I hear from you, that would be great. And thanks for closing with “don’t feel you have to respond” – don’t worry, I won’t. I wouldn’t even respond here if there was any chance you’d read it.
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And finally, I pit myself, for allowing a crappy e-mail to make me feel bad enough to think You know what would be fun? Dying my hair!
That’s because the Harry Potter books are shipped differently than their other books. In order to have it arrive on the day of release, they send the books by UPS to your local post office so that the USPS can deliver it on Saturday. Special packaging, special labeling, all that stuff. To put another book in the same shipment would gum up the works.
ETA: I see on preview that you are in Bulgaria, so what I said doesn’t apply. Sorry.
Going back to the Michigan left discussion on the previous page, I never knew that’s what that’s called. But they have them all over the New Orleans area, too. They really aren’t that hard to get used to once you remember which intersections have them and which don’t – otherwise you can find yourself unable to cross over however many lanes you need to to get to the U-turn.
My tiny rant? I pit myself for incompetence with scissors. I was using the shears in the kitchen yesterday to open a new vacuum-sealed package of delicious coffee, and not only did I cut the package open, I also managed to slice neatly across the tip of my index finger. Just as I’m faced with a pile of extra work I need to do on my computer. I have to keep it covered while I’m working or else typing splits it back open, not to mention it hurts like a motherfucker, but then I pit myself again for failing to remove the bandaids last night so it could get fresh air and start scabbing over properly. Isn’t cutting with scissors something I was supposed to have learned back in kindergarten?
Is it wrong that I have a song in my head after reading this - “Don’t it make my brown hair PIII-iink”?
I learned my lesson about brown hair and purple hair dye a while ago - brown hair loooooves purple dye. I dyed my hair a lovely shade of eggplant (temporary dye, at least); it was supposed to be dark with purple highlights. It was, indeed, eggplant. My head glowed purple. And that sucker dye took forever to come out.
(Where are the pictures, dude? 
)
I was driving to a café today. My windows were down, and the radio was playing Weezer at an appropriate volume. At a red light, a huge white pickup truck/SUV pulled up right next to me. The driver’s arm hung lazily out of the window holding a cigarette, the smoke coming into my car. Oh well - not really her fault, people are allowed to smoke outside/in their cars, and just because I’m sensitive to smoke doesn’t mean she needs to change her ways.
And then I noticed that I couldn’t hear Weezer anymore. In fact, I couldn’t hear ANYTHING except the HORRENDOUSLY LOUD country music she was playing, and her singing along to it. The way I see it, there are two options in life: EITHER blast your music OR have your windows down. Not both at once, ever.
She noticed my dirty looks, laughed, and sang louder. I closed my windows. Then I’m pretty sure she tried to race me to the next light (???).
I had this happen to me once. A woman came in here with her snot-nosed little child. She went in to meet with the boss, and on her way in she looked at me and said “Sweetie, stay out here and play with Mika.” I gave my boss such a look. Then this kid wouldn’t sit quietly and play by herself but insisted I play with her. She had a little Nerf ball that we were tossing back and forth. I tossed it a little too hard and it bounced off her face. She ran in crying to her mother that I had thrown the ball at her… Yes, a fucking Nerf ball.
Luckily both the mom and my boss seemed to realize a) that she was a crying little liar and b) that they shouldn’t have asked me to babysit. I am the AA also not a babysitter. And I don’t mind keeping an eye on kids who have their own entertainment. I even keep a Mr. Potato Head on my desk. But this woman pissed me right off with her casual assumption that I would do so.
My boss has kindly never let me get roped into that again.
Cite!
I pit a member of my husbands inner family who decided to take a family vacation whilst their father was recovering from major spinal cord surgery. ( He is already is a paraplegic, but a fall from his wheelchair a few weeks ago broke his neck and he was a hair away from being a quadroplegic.
Well, the recovery in the hospital ( ha…that is an oxymoronic statement if I ever heard one.) has been less than swimmingly: the daily meds he takes cannot be stopped suddenly or they cause sleeplessness and hallucinations and he was not on a right schedule with all the new stuff leaving him farked up. After a couple days of RX’ing around with his system and sleep deprivation/being tied down to the bed for his own safety and the joys of all that, he can sorta sleep now, but his one lung is now riddled with pnuemonia and has collapsed and cannot go in the usual back and forth kinda bed to help his lungs clear themselves due to his neck, but a special bed that shakes him gently.
This member of the family left Sunday and my husband has been at the hospital 11am - 8pm daily, missing work and handling everything. A big trip with my husband and his dad going back to zee old country in August has been cancelled. If we get our $1100 back in plane ticket for my husband ( with a doctor’s note and all that) I would be flabbergasted.
I have been rather terse with my husband about this only sibling of his and their narcissistic behavior of taking this trip when this is going on. Apparently, this is a bit of a newsflash, They Had Their Trip Planned. Her dad breaking his neck was not on the docket and declared: Not as much fun as Disney. where they went. She gets all the fun stuff to do and my husband gets the responsiblity.
I finally decided that he is an only child.