Why does the phone keep ringing, and I keep answering it, and there’s nobody on the other end? :mad: It’s happened twice today already.
Also, my computer is fucking up with the internet connection, and I have to use the family computer to access the Dope. :mad:
A teeny tiny rant, I’m not 100% in the right on this, but man it is pissing me off.
A year ago I moved across the country on very quick notice. I got rid of most of my furniture, left a few pieces with my parents on the idea they are going to move out here too. One thing I left behind was my old oak table that was rescued from the family cottage when my parents sold it. They gave me grief at the time about even getting the thing out of the cottage, then gave me grief about storing things at their house. I left the table behind at my house for my tenants.
My house is being sold in two weeks. … (wow! take a deep breath!) but my parents have been harassing me about getting “Their oak table back” before I sold the house. My tenants are moving, are in and out of town, and hell, its making me freaking crazy getting it all organized.
Today I get an email that Dad got the table from the tenants and is giving it away to a charity auction for his church. (!)
Ok, I get it, that he’s dealing with it, he can dispose of it, but I kept the table because it meant something to me, and they didn’t want it. I’m across the country and I can’t do a damn thing about this, but all this grief about a table they didn’t want and now they are getting the tax receipt for a charity auction on this table. The understanding a year ago was they were holding on to the few pieces of furniture I wanted until they moved out here, and I would give them money towards their move to move some of my stuff.
I’m not going to say anything, just venting here.
Note to grocery store managers: Stop putting the disinfectant hand soap next to the dish soap, in bottles that are shaped exactly like dish soap bottles. I wondered why we were going through a whole bottle of the stuff in two or three weeks until I looked at the bottle and saw Drug Facts on the back label!
Hand soap doesn’t belong with dish soap.
Picked up an application - it’s for front desk work at one of those extended-stay efficiency apt. places. Hey, it’s something … and no panic attacks today!
Can’t not bitch about something, though, so … I’m pretty sure I planted the sugar snap pea seeds waaaaaay too late this spring. Dammit.
If you get that job you will have stories for the rest of your life. I am now required to tell stories of the most recent crazy at family Christmases now and forever. I will never run out of crazy tales, even if I quit tomorrow.
SpazCat, front desk agent at an extended-stay hotel
nah - woodchipper
My interview was last Wednesday. You said you’d get back to me “by next week.”
Couldn’t you have just said “by Friday of next week?” It would save me a couple days of staring at my phone, waiting for it to ring, then getting very disappointing when I didn’t get a phone call.
I just need to know one way or the other if I have the job, damn it!
(But please oh please let me get it!)
If you’re going to dispose of your tampon in the commode, at least stick around long enough to make sure it goes down.
Can I offer you an invite to Workplace Griping? I’m sure we’d all love to hear about the crazy too 
Oh, I’m in there. I don’t post much because I try not to open that thread at irk and I by the time I get home I’ve left irk behind. I’m like the guy in Great Expectations who does not acknowledge his home at the office and his office at home. Keeps me sane.
But sometimes the irritation is too great and I do post.
Either you have never watched CSI, or you own many gallons of hydrogen peroxide.
(no tell-tale bleach smell…)
One of the best Freudian Typos ever.
Or (rereading and noticing you’ve done it twice), one of the most appropriate puns ever.
Been watching much Coen brothers lately? 
I got an apology text from my dad for the 1:30 am text AND a voice message from my mother apologizing on his behalf for same.
I am … mollified.
However, I still gotta meet with him in person sometime in the next couple of weeks to go over tax stuff. <toddler tantrum voice> I don’t WANNA! </toddler tantrum voice> Either he’s going to be an ass and piss me off and we’ll get in a fight, or he’ll be nice and I’ll be sucked back into reconsidering for the umpeenth time perhaps letting my parents back into my life more fully, like a dumb child who just can’t learn not to touch a hot stove.
Nah. Rent one and get the damage insurance. After you’ve finished with the original project you run a load of pine limbs through it.
Then set everything on fire. Pile of chips and chipper.
I think it may have started (here) at the MMP.
I think it’s variable. I expect that since this is a college campus, there’s probably a high demand for their services, and so some kind of rudimentary triage is needed.
The past few days have been better; the Ritalin they added seems to finally be working, though I think it might be because it’s keeping me from napping during the day. And I managed to got an appointment for Monday after making a billion phone calls.
You know, after I got over the initial shock of discovering what Uncle did, I started wondering if it was illegal or not. I used to work at a credit union, and we didn’t do a lot with trusts, but I know a tiny bit about them. Thanks for confirming my suspicions.
Problem is, I have no idea where on God’s Green Earth the account might be held. Like I said, Grandma forgets to eat, so I doubt she remembers, and I know Uncle won’t talk. My best chance is if Mom can find some papers from when the share was still in Dad’s name. We have a lockbox, I’m gonna start there. Wish me luck!
Ooh, the Pit just went from Soap Opera to a really good Mystery! Keep us page-turners informed. I’ve got my fingers crossed.
I never vandalize anything - but I wish I could put a sign in the inside of each women’s washroom stall at my school - or better yet, write graffiti inside each stall. Except that I’m not sure how to write “Stop fucking pissing on the goddamn toilet seats!” in French.
(And yes, I know I’ve ranted about this before. Maybe it’s time I talked to the teacher or someone in charge about it.)
I guess we’ll have to use hungry pigs!