If you just confess and plead guilty, you won’t have to go through a trial.
The Annual Day of Perpetual Victimhood and Recreational Grieving is upon us once again. The fourth anniversary of the tenth anniversary and a chance once again for the politicians to deliver somber speeches and all your Facebook friends to publicly wail and gnash their teeth.
I hate this fucking time of year.
My husband saw the second plane hit the towers from the Staten Island ferry. He had nightmares for months and needed professional counseling. The two of us were locked on the fucking island for a week terrified out of our goddamned minds because they shut down the bridges and the damned ferry and we were stuck watching Manhattan on fire and smelling the remains of thousands of dead people.
And then on the 12th a friend of mine died of advanced breast cancer at 45 last year. She left behind an eighteen year old daughter just starting college and an eleven year old son. She was funny, smart, insightful, amazingly brave and deliciously silly. I still think of her doing her make the baby laugh dance in our local ShopRite as my baby daughter laughed and she thumbed her nose at the cancer. She was a wonderful parent and a delightful friend who loved Downton Abbey, dogs and just about anything from Trader Joe’s. I miss her a dozen times a week.
Two rotten, evil days.
Look, local boss, I get that you are super stoked to try yet another system in hopes that you will finally be keeping track of what your staff is doing. Away boss shows you an electronic kanban board* and you think it’s the greatest thing since sliced bread. Woohoo, you said, I will start using this in my section. To illustrate the wonders of the kanban, away boss showed you my board, and said that the two of you could use it to coordinate what I’m doing while splitting time between y’all. So you know I have a board.
So why are you including me on the paper kanban you are creating to hang in your office? I am not going to put all my shit on cards online, just to come into your office and throw some cards on your wall. This is in addition to having to fill out TFS and tracking time in a spreadsheet to submit to our timekeeper. WTF? Four places?!? You want me to track what I do in FOUR places?
Oh, fuck no. Not happening. I will do the time sheet for payroll. I will do TFS for my project manager. I will do the e-kanban for away boss. But I will not write down what I am doing and velcro it to your wall.
The one saving grace is that I know that you have a short attention span so I’m sure you will get bored with this soon.
I feel a little better now.
Oh, how I hate this. But that is an entirely different and much longer rant.
Me, I hate that from the sounds of it that’s not effing kanban…
Why do people grab words and change their meaning just because they think the word sounds cool? It’s like language rape!
Sorry. I don’t have an electronic kanban anymore, but there was no way I would have wanted to post the same info on paper in someone’s office. Kind of defeats the whole purpose of saving extra work, no? 
Ninja’d by someone who should be in bed by now, no? Or is it Friday already in Navaland?
I’m sorry for your loss and can’t imagine how terrifying it must have been. For several million people, I’m sure it’s still traumatic. But there are several times more around the country who engage in recreational grief this time every year and it’s those with whom I have no use.
If it makes you feel any better I frankly wish that people would also STFU. This is not a day I care to remember or a time I wish to relive. I had the same nightmare I always have around this time of year, a nightmare of being in the towers and unable to get out. In most ways I wish people would do more to focus on the fact NYC has healed and moved on. It takes a lot more than two planes to destroy this wonderful area where all of us of all races, creeds and beliefs manage to get together and create one of the world’s best places.
Not just your country. I’m in the UK, and the Islamophobes here are using recreational-grief over it as an excuse to broadcast/justify their hatred of Muslims. I just saw one of my Scottish friends post an English Defence League (white-supremacist-lite group) meme about it too 
Yes some of my FB friends will share something from the FB group Britain First and I’m appalled by the open bigotry and hatred they spew.
I once defriended a woman I know for sharing their stuff. Bumped into her the next week. Awkward.
:eek:
I should have thought of that! 
I had to change my passwords again today. This happens every 30 days. I can’t use anything easy to remember and they can’t be close to anything I have used in the last 6 months. Not to mention that all 4 systems have different requirements.
AND I am not going to remember what I used late on a Friday when I go in on Monday.
How is it improving intranet security when the easiest way to find someone’s passwords is to look at the sticky note taped under the keyboard?
My BB has a system for this. He has a protected excel spreadsheet that contains all of his passwords. On his computer. The ever changing password for that spreadsheet is in a saved email on his cell phone. THAT ever changing password on a cleverly hidden scrap of paper tucked in phone case.
If suddenly Global Dominion crashes, it will be because someone’s hand written piece of paper has smudged so that has the password to access the phone to access the password to the computer that has all of the passwords that are needed to access the fucking email so they can contact IT to get some new passwords is gone.:smack:
Hotel Wifis shouldn’t be limited to webpages.
Oh my dog. Holy fucking carp. I just said the one (type of) thing I swore I’d never say to my beloved, and I’m caught right now between being royally pissed at myself, feeling sorry for myself, feeling sorry for him, and being pissed at my beloved.
He was griping at me about the mess the little girls have made in the office. I know there’s a mess in there. I start cleaning, turn my back for five minutes, and there’s a bigger mess somehow. I need to try harder, but it’s so fucking discouraging when everything I do is undone in in less time than it takes me to go let the dogs out and fill up their water dishes. So I’ve given up trying. I’m tired.
When Tony started mullygrubbing, I made the mistake of pointing out that he’s in the bedroom most of the day, every single day. The bedroom is open to the office via two 4.5-foot doorways, and plainly visible from the bed… the implication being, of course, that if he sees the little kids in the office, he could bloody well tell them to get out. But the other implication is that he’s well and truly disabled - which he is. But physically disabled /= useless, which is what he heard.
I don’t know whether to apologize or cry or run away from home or get drunk.
Don’t apologize, clarify.
I used to work for a company which was unusually accepting of disabilities. Last day before Christmas vacation, the company’s founders went to each and every desk, nook and cranny in Home Office shaking six thousand hands. One of them was very surprised (happily, I hope) when I offered my left: his right was five little stubs coming out of his shoulder. As you say, disabled doesn’t mean useless; there are a lot of things your husband can’t do, but what he can, he should.
My friend dead of breast cancer needlessly at 45 is not a silly little anecdote, you pedantic asshole. Fuck nameless, faceless message board assholes.
I feel a constant low level shiver or spasm. Shaking. I walked about 6 miles yesterday in two different trips, stopped for lunch. On some pain meds but otherwise having a very very good day. As I’m sitting there having lunch, I look down at my right hand, which is in the air as my forearm rests on the table edge.
I was rather shocked at how much it was visibly shaking.
And that was on a good day, where I wasn’t noticing any particular problems before that.
New pain doc in a week and a half. Time to start looking deeper.
I went to a family reunion today, and I very much enjoyed it.
The only thing I couldn’t stand was a framed photo my aunt brought. She’s been very active in Republican politics, and was on Mike Huckabee’s political team. This picture? Not of her and Mike, but of her and Donald Trump shaking hands and posing for the camera. Ugh. I’ve learned not to speak about politics around a woman who thinks Ronald Reagan was one of our great Presidents.
Dear washing machine:
Thank you for vomiting water all over the hallway, living room, dining room, two bathrooms and part of two bedrooms. I’m sure they needed the bath.
fuck you,
brachy