Oh, and when I cite evidence otherwise, they still don’t believe me!!! Why!!!
How is it that these people have had three months to put together presentions and now I’m being given the task of perfecting everything in 2 days while other people walk by and hand me more stuff to do every fifteen minutes and Murphy’s law is in full gear.
Our little office is now supporting three times as many people as normal for yesterday and today, and oh, just so smartly remodelling has been scheduled at the same time causing rooms to be blocked off and saws to be running all hours of the day while network gremlins are crawling out of the walls like the real gremlins from that movie, causing the other member of this two-man IT team to be loaded down with his network wizardry responsibilities thus putting even more on my plate.
Our mystery problem number one turns out to be a surprisingly defective switch box, which when solved, is magically replaced by a second problem which causes a printer that normally runs 60 color pages a minute to take five minutes per page while our corporate officers are greatly in need of printouts of my hand tweaks to their surprisingly boring presentations about corporate sales figures and cherry farm pictures.
Netflix, I really liked the episodes of Rome on the first three disks of season one and would like to watch the rest of them, but the disk four you sent me was damaged so I had to send it back. You promised to sent me a replacement disk, but ever since you got the damaged DVD it’s been listed as “available soon”. Did you only have one copy of it, so now I have to wait until you get around to ordering a new one?
At my temp assignment, I overheard a comment that may or may not have been about me indicating that I am (or whoever she was talking about) a bad receptionist. I know I’ve made mistakes occasionally, like getting the caller’s name slightly wrong, but I don’t think that’s enough to cause comment. Nevertheless, I can’t stop trying to analyze whether it’s about me or not and generally feeling self-conscious. It doesn’t even matter in the long run since I got a permanent job starting at the end of the month. So why do I keep thinking about this instead of feeling happy about the new job? Stupid brain.
Hey professor fucker! You said the study guide for the final would be posted to-day, and it isn’t. Hurry up and post it so I can promptly ignore it, you slacker!
And for god’s sake, would it kill you to spend a day at JoS A. Bank? Your suit burned a hole in my retina again. I know you tenured fuckers make enough to dress right, especially when you’re assigning your own $50 book to the 400 students in class.
I love a good shit.
I enjoy a good mini-rants thread.
So when I print one out and go to take a nice long shit, it takes me to my “happy place”.
So who do I mini-pit? Whoever set the timer up on the automatic-off light switch and motion detector.
The lights went out in the bathroom when I was* trying * to read dammit!
Yesterday I went to the movies. I went to the bathroom first. Since I’d had some light dinner at one of the mall’s restaurants, I used theirs. Both gender-specific bathrooms were out of service, only the disabled-folks’ one worked.
Who the fuck puts the only switch on a disabled bathroom right at the door, about three yards from the actual crapper, and sets it on a short timer?
Try putting the purse hook right over the pad/tampon disposal container in the handicapped stalls. That’s the case with almost all of the handicapped stalls here at the Science Center.
And when I used the McDonalds’ bathroom awhile back, they didn’t even HAVE any purse hooks.
Now, I pit my fucking cold. I ended up going to bed at quarter to eight last night, my head hurt so damned bad, and I’m so stuffed up. Now my head is pounding again, but I’m not the least big sleepy, so even laying down isn’t really an option-and there’s nothing on TV.
If this is some sudden and inexplicable allergy flare up: It’s fucking March. There’s nothing growing yet, so there’s nothing to be fucking allergic to, so stop it. The fact that someone in my class may or may not worn some perfume does not mean I don’t need to breathe.
If this is a cold: I’m flying back east on Saturday, and if I need to fly when my sinuses are being all bitchy, I will not be happy.
Can we please get the entire scientific community to figure out how to make us into cyborgs? Pretty please? Because I’m tired as hell of this.
Fuck off, dermatillomania. I want nice hands, not torn up cuticles from Hell.
In the research library where I am now, there are two sets of bathrooms on each floor, behind each bank of elevators. The problem, however, is that it is seemingly random as to which side the men’s or women’s would be in either bank. It varies from floor to floor.
The signs on each bathroom door are a green placard with black letters. Some joker, whether he or she was taking advantage of the confusion of both the hectic nature of this part of the term and/or the confusion regarding which side corresponded with which gender, wrote in “wo” in front of the men’s sign in black sharpie. (To be fair, it was really rendered quite lovingly with serifs and everything. Clearly, someone took their time with it).
I don’t know whether to pit whoever sharpied it or to pit my dumb ass, because naturally I fell for it in my urgency and promptly wondered if the huge bathroom with urinals was some kind of new addition that had happened in the past week since I was here last. At least no one was in there.
:smack:
This almost deserves its own thread.
Asswipe eating at Cheddars last night…did you not notice the place was packed out? Did you not notice the legions of hungry people waiting in the foyer…in the bar…on the patio? So you decided your service wasn’t fast enough and that the best of all possible ways to deal with this would be to scream at your young waitress, reducing her to tears.
Wow. So macho! So impressive! I bet you thought every woman in the place was fantisizing about sitting with you and basking in your manly aura. Did you happen to notice that the woman with you had tears in her eyes and looked as if she wanted to crawl under the table? Did you happen to notice that all the diners around you were rolling their eyes and looking at you with contempt? Of course not. You sat there smug in your glow of “well, I sure showed her!” Meanwhile the waitress is crying in the bar. I’m sure that really improved the service, you wanker. How would you like it if someone treated your child like that - especially for something that is not the waitress’ fault? Or are you stupid enough to think she cooks the orders as well as delivers them? She has no control over the speed in which the food is cooked. She delivers the order. She brings it to you when it is ready.
Assholes like you make me want to puke. Thanks for ruining my dinner.
Dear Best Friend,
I love you. We’ve been friends since we were six. Would you please grow the FUCK up? Your 23. Stop asking me for rides when have access to a car and I’m doing you a favor as it is. I know you don’t like to drive, but really, why should I spend an hour picking you up and taking you home.
Also, you need a job. You graduate in less than two months. You don’t seem to understand that recruiters lie. There is no job until there is an offer. Until that point, you take every interview you can. I know you dream job didn’t work. I told you to interview at other places. I really did. You choose not to listen to me. I’m sorry, but I’m not sorry for you. And it is possible to work at a company that doesn’t have 20,000 employees. Smaller companies hire engineers. I know. My dad is one. Also, why have you never asked him about what to do. I mean he’s only been doing what you want to do for um, 40 years. And, um, he’s worked for all of the auto companies, among others, as a freaking expert witness on design. Despite what you seem to believe, he’s not an idiot.
Also, your relationship is beyond bizarre. I decided a long time ago to stay out of other peoples relationships, but good God, WTF! So they’ve been dating for four and a half years. They live together. In separate bedrooms. With another roommate. They haven’t had sex. They have single beds. It’s not like they are devote Catholics or born again Christians, so this isn’t religious. And he won’t even discuss marriage. And they are planning on moving across the country together. Into an apartment with separate bedrooms. And he wants other roommates, too. Everyone, is in general agreement that one or both of them has to be gay. I can’t imagine that two people that were that asexual as they appear to be would even bother dating. I could be wrong, but still, it’s just fucked up. Oh, and she really wants to get married and have kids. Like right now. I assume that she knows that children usually involves sex.
Argh. I know there will be a day, hopefully sooner rather than later, where my phone will ring at 2 am and I will have to go take care of whatever problem finally caused her life to explode. I honestly believe it would help her. I really do. And I feel like a bad person for thinking that.
Capitol One and American Express: My wife and I are absolutely not interested in getting one of your super-gold-platinum-with-turquoise-trim-and-lilac-spanglies credit cards. So please, please stop sending us applications in various shapes, sizes, and styles urging us to do so. Every goddamn day we both get one or the other.
And while you’re at it, stop sticking those fucking false cardboard credit cards in the envelopes with the rest of the documents. We’re not 8 years old and aren’t impressed by geegaws of that nature. Plus, they have to be detached from the paperwork before I run it through our shredder.
Or is that the idea - because I’m forced to open the envelope to remove the damn sliver of cardboard, and you’re hoping I’ll have a sudden epiphany regarding the desirability of your card?
My boss HAS a Capitol One card and the still keep sending him applications for another.
It’s part of their stupid strategy to get fees out of people. They will happily issue several cards with $500 limits to people who won’t qualify for one card with a higher limit (those with lower/bad FICO scores). Then hope the cardmembers charge all their Capitol Cards up to the $500 limit, miss payments on one or all of them, then Capitol One gets to charge late fees and over-the-limit fees on them all individually.
I hate those bastards.
(BTW, my boss is not in the category of person they target with this bullshit. They still send him applications over and over, though. And they specifically say “Information on your Capitol One Account” on the envelope! You open it, and it’s an app for another card!!)
Thanks a bunch Verizon. Telephone to install Thursday, March 13, Direct TV to install Saturday, March 15. DSL to install Friday. So today you tell me you of course meant Friday, March 21.
Bastards.
Apparently this guy has been listening to Bob Rivers Christmas songs.
How big do your balls have to be to come back and visit at a place where you performed many acts of sabotage before you finished working there? I’m going to have to ask the waste of skin woman who is currently visiting us. We spent months cleaning up the messes that she left, and she has the incredible nerve to come to visit and spend an hour or so keeping my co-workers from working. Maybe she has a crush on one of them. I’ll have to find out.
I wish I would stop getting sick. First 20-day-long upper respiratory virus, followed by Shingles (shingles! at 32!), and now a delightful case of gastroenteritis, complete with a 103 degree fever. Stupid damn body - cut it out already. Stop barfing. Stay well long enough to take a fucking vacation instead of wasting all your paid time off on being sick! It’s just not worth it.
I wish the SDMB would fix their servers already.