Actually, what she expected was for me to print out the document, scratch out the parts I didn’t like, write in what I preferred and then sign the document.
Cause that’s all professional and stuff.
Well, that’s a big “GAH!” Agreed - totally professional. Cause, why would you edit on the computer and not have strike-outs and stuff?
I have a customer who, when I send him a Word doc over email, will print it out, make corrections in pen, scan it back into the computer as a PDF, then send it back to me to edit those changes into the FULLY EDITABLE WORD DOCUMENT. Not only do we waste a ton of time with the back and forth when he could just make the changes himself, but then I have to try to interpret his atrocious handwriting to figure out what the hell he wants me to fix.
exactly - so the fact that I actually did that - send her the edited document - and she wasn’t happy - was just atrocious.
Somebody stole my can of Diet Dr Pepper out of the refrigerator. Somebody can just choke on it.
Check-out lady, I know my keys are in my shopping bag that I just gave to you to fill instead of using a plastic bag - I’m the one who put them there. Don’t take them out and hand them to me - just leave them the hell alone. My wallet and sunglasses are going in that bag, too, as soon as I finish up here. Sometimes I don’t take a purse - sometimes I put my keys, wallet, and sunglasses in A SHOPPING BAG! GASP! She’s not the first cashier to do this, either. Just leave my shit alone, man.
And the handles on those shopping bags are too long, so the bag drags on the ground when I’m walking. I’m 5’6" - who the hell are the people who manufacture these bags making them for? NBA players?
Fucker. I hate that. I have a client who wants me to open the doc on my computer while she opens it on her computer so I can listen along on the 'phone as she talks outloud to herself about what she *might *like changed. Clients should just give us all their money and then GO AWAY.
Almost three weeks ago, my neck, right shoulder and right arm got kinda fucked up in a completely mysterious way. No idea how it happened, but I have torn ligaments and muscles in my shoulder and forearm, and had at that time, three swollen disks in my upper back. I spent a good week on Vicodin until it ran out, and I’m down to less than 10 Flexiril that I’m saving to try to help me sleep through the pain.
Well anyway, that’s the physical background, which I’ve already pitted.
Last Sunday, I went out on my deck to water my plants, which I keep out there during the summer. A couple of of ficuses, a couple of smaller plants, a pot of kitty grass (mixed grains actually, wheat, barley and oats) and a couple of pots of stuff like mint, sage and catnip. I picked up my small watering jug and my right arm spasmed, causing me to drop it. Perhaps about 5-6 ounces of water spilled out and then down onto the deck below mine. The water didn’t hit anything on that deck, and there was no one out there.
The Indian (Hindu) woman who lives below me came running outside, swearing and carrying on in whatever language she speaks (which isn’t English) and then went inside.
Yesterday I come home to find a note stuck in my door that she went to the office to complain about water dripping from my deck when I water my plants. Hell, I’ve been here a year and a half and this is my second summer doing this. They never complained until NOW. So I came home for lunch, went into the office and asked if she also complains about the water on her deck when it RAINS, which it was doing today. The office people said that she had come in and complained about what happened this weekend. I explained WHY it happened, and advised that I am extremely careful not to be out there watering my plants when they are out there, after an earlier incident (several months ago) where I did do so when they were out there and she got mad about it. But I also said that I’m not doing anything different than I always have, and it’s only fucking water, it’s not hitting any of their property OR them, and “big fucking deal”. At no point did the office manager ask me to do anything different, or remove my plants.
When I come home from work, the first thing I do is to throw open the sliding glass doors, to do a little air exchange with the apartment and to allow my cat to go hang out there, eat some grass and catnip, and watch people go by. I also check my plants and water them if need be.
So when I got home tonight, I did the same thing. Seconds after I very carefully watered my plants and ensured that NOT ONE DROP of water fell on their deck, my downstairs neighbor came out and very laboriously inspected every inch of her desk. Now, it rained today, so the outer 18" of mine were wet, and I bet hers was too. This is where my plants are. So I know now if she complains about it, because her deck was wet, that she’s completely full of shit and just out to be an asshole.
So I came inside. Waited three minutes. Walked outside again. Dropped a small rock on my deck from a height of two feet and waited. Sure as shit, she’s out there again within 60 seconds, carefully inspecting her deck. Then she looks up, sees me watching her, and sits down right in the middle of the deck in a meditation pose.
Go ahead, bitch. I’ll do my best to ensure that not a single drop of my watering water hits your deck. But I’m also going to mess with your mind. I’m going to be out on my deck a lot more. You’re going to hear noises out there and I’m going to begin tracking how fast you respond. Instead of only messing with the plants to water them every 2-5 days depending on the weather, I’m going to PRETEND to water them every single fucking day, and note your responses. You fucking complain about it one time, and I’m going to be able to give them a catalog of dates and times when I watered, when I didn’t, when I was on my deck, and when you came running out to inspect everything.
Oh, and I’ve been ignoring the pile of pigeon shit on one corner of my deck, because I didn’t want it to wash down on your deck as I cleaned it up. Now I’m going to note it to the office and inform them that I need to clean it up for health reasons and that this will involve a lot of water, bleach, and both water and shit running down through your deck to the ground, because I can’t exactly do it any other way. Good luck with that.
I went to the farmers market this morning and since it was an unplanned trip had to stop at the always busy single abm that is on the same street.
There were 4 people in front of me when I arrived. The first left without incident and then the young mother stepped up and every single step was press that key honey, okay now press that one and on and on. Next customer went through 4 attempts muttering more loudly each time he failed to get cash. The last lady updated her passbook and did at least 3 more transactions before she finally took cash out and left.
By the end I couldn’t help but laugh so I pit the Dope for taking away my righteous indignation when people get in my way.
That’s so funny, Chimera. When I lived in Florida, I too had a back balcony where I kept plants. I also had an Indian couple who lived below me, and they would also complain when I would water my plants. It wasn’t like I was using a spray hose–just a little ole watering can. I only had a couple of plants anyway. But sure enough, if there was the tiniest bit of spill-over, they would complain to management.
The thing was, they had nothing on their deck except for a chair that was positioned far in the corner, far away from any harmless drippings. And since we lived in Miami, where it’s pretty much guaranteed to rain every afternoon during the summer, it made me wonder just how those people didn’t have nervous breakdowns every day.
it was me - because this morning I too went to the farmer’s market. Only it was a new FM that my friend wanted to go to AND when I got there after my 30 minute drive - I realized that I forgot to put my credit card back in my wallet! D’oh!!
Fuck you mods at the city-data.com.
I’ve been banned as an anti-Semitic troll on the forums there.
Why?
Because I argued that the holocaust actually happened, that Jews do not control the United States government, that the Israelis are not committing genocide and that Hitler slaughtered the Jews because he was evil not because they were commie bastards who deserved to die.
My posts were literally erased while posts filled with Neo-Nazism were allowed to stand.
Go to hell you vile, evil, contemptible stormfront wannabees. I hope your entire bodies break out in hives you cannot scratch. I hope all of you involved in this decision die a painful death from rectal cancer. You are cowards who don’t have the guts to put on the KKK regalia anywhere but the internet.
On behalf of my Jews everywhere: you suck!
To: the general populace of my city
From: a concerned citizen
Subject: Prairie Dogs
STOP FEEDING THE FUCKING PRARIE DOGS! THEY ARE WILD ANIMALS AND DO NOT NEED YOUR FUCKING FOOD! I HOPE YOU GET THE FUCKING PLAGUE FROM FEEDING THEM!
I hate those pop-up navigation bars that have started to appear everywhere. Unnecessary and irritatingly omnipresent.
That was my WAG, but…
:smack::smack::smack:
I could maybe see “make changes in pen and then send those back for her to create a new version for you to sign.” But this is… ridiculous.
IME, there are some changes that are actually easier to make this way, especially if any formatting is involved and the person doesn’t know what the hell they’re doing. But if they’re adding any new text, the least they could do is type it in an email and then indicate where to insert it–and make sure that all their notes are legible.
Maybe they didn’t want to smash your keyfob and/or get your keys lost under all the groceries?
The idea is that you carry it on your shoulder–not in your hand.
The ones that sites include to be “helpful”? With top stories and the like? Yeah, I loathe those.
My favorite thing? When people don’t like the answer to the question, so they just ask the question again.
Also, why does Pandora insist on playing Talking Heads and The Cure no matter which artist I’ve requested? Too much fucking Talking Heads, people!
No formatting involved. Purely text insertion and spelling corrections (for names I wasn’t given the spelling for in the first place). And when the guy’s scrawl makes Ds looks like Os and Vs look like Us, it’s a chore to figure out what he’s actually writing, since proper names can be any damn thing these days.
Personally, I would never let a client just “change the contract” - I would take their requested changes and make them myself. But that’s just me.
YES. This. Haaaaaaaaaaaate.
Ugh. Gross.