Various and Sundry Stuff
Let's all take a moment to send warm fuzzies out to Robyn who was moving into a new townhouse this week. There must be some kind of problem with her Internet, since she hasn't been here to update yet. She undoubtedly is going crazy with not being able to surf and snark, in addition to having her life contained in a sea of boxes. Robyn, we love you and miss you and are sending cyber-Starbucks and chocolate to you right now. Remember, if you need counseling to deal with the suckiness of moving, we are here for you.
My daughter, Alison, who will be four months old tomorrow, learned to blow spit bubbles on Friday. We are so proud. We are sure that this is a sign of her genius. MENSA, here she comes! Of course, right now she is sucking on my bicep, so maybe she's not quite as smart as we previously thought.
Conversation I Had With Pimply-Faced High School Kid at the Select-A-Seat Counter in Albertson's on Friday:
Me: I would like three tickets to the Glenn Beck Christmas Show, please.
PFHSK: They're not on sale yet.
Me: Yes, they are.
PFHSK: They go on sale at 10:00am.
Me: It's now 10:03.
PFHSK: Oh. (walks over to computer, punches a few keys) Oh, that's really weird. The site is really busy.
Me: Yes, I know. Three tickets, please.
PFHSK: Where do you want the seats?
Me: Orchestra pit.
PFHSK: Oh, that's sold out.
Me: How weird, since you just said they weren't on sale yet. Okay, next best seats.
PF: (Staring dumbly at screen, scratching side of his neck) Is row I okay?
Me: Yes, fine, just the best seats you can find.
PF: (Bends down to search for binder that has seating chart in it for the venue. Takes sweet time finding binder that has seating chart in it for venue. Doesn't realize his life is in danger from crazed woman on other side of counter who can hear other people buying up her tickets) Um, here's row I. Is that okay?
Me: (Raises voice) YES, that is FINE. Just give me three seats, please.
PF: (More dumb staring at screen, more scratching) Oh, Row I is now sold out.
Me: (Gritting teeth, trying to think of what my childrens' lives would be like if I got sent to prison for killing PimpleBoy) Just get me the best seats available.
PF: Oh, that's weird. This says there's only one seat on Row I. You need three all together, right?
Me: (almost going ballistic) Yes, I need three. All together. In one spot. Three.
PF: Oh, that's weird. This says there are three seats in Row E. That's closer to the front. Would you like that?
Me: (thinking No, moron, I'd like farther from the stage) Yes, yes, yes. Just buy the seats, PLEASE!
PF: Oh, um, I like need your credit card.
Me: (wanting to shove said credit card into an orifice of his body that would prove highly uncomfortable for him) Here.
PF: This will take a minute.
Me: (thinking really, but you've been so quick thus far).
PF: (Not comprehending how close he came to injury, hands card back). You have a nice day, ma'am.
Me: (back in the safety of my car -- GAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!)
I work from home doing bookkeeping and case review for a company that I had previously worked for in California. I usually only work about 2 hours a day, unless there is a big project that needs doing. It is perfect for our family, because we don't have to pay for daycare for our kids. I just found out that the only other lady who does what I do at the office decided to quit yesterday. With. No. Notice. Nada. Nothing. Done. She just quits, then walks out, leaving muy muy projects and cases on her desk, halfway done. Which means guess what? I now have a 40 hour a week job, a four month old baby who is really funny about wanting me to hold her all the time, and a buttload of work that has to be done in a certain time limit. This will be great for the old paycheck, but crappy for my family and social life for awhile. That's why this post is so long. Just wanted you all to know if you don't hear from me for a few days, a week, a year, that I am okay, just buried under a mountain of work. Anyone who wants to come play with my kid or do my laundry is welcome to it.
My daughter, Alison, who will be four months old tomorrow, learned to blow spit bubbles on Friday. We are so proud. We are sure that this is a sign of her genius. MENSA, here she comes! Of course, right now she is sucking on my bicep, so maybe she's not quite as smart as we previously thought.
Conversation I Had With Pimply-Faced High School Kid at the Select-A-Seat Counter in Albertson's on Friday:
Me: I would like three tickets to the Glenn Beck Christmas Show, please.
PFHSK: They're not on sale yet.
Me: Yes, they are.
PFHSK: They go on sale at 10:00am.
Me: It's now 10:03.
PFHSK: Oh. (walks over to computer, punches a few keys) Oh, that's really weird. The site is really busy.
Me: Yes, I know. Three tickets, please.
PFHSK: Where do you want the seats?
Me: Orchestra pit.
PFHSK: Oh, that's sold out.
Me: How weird, since you just said they weren't on sale yet. Okay, next best seats.
PF: (Staring dumbly at screen, scratching side of his neck) Is row I okay?
Me: Yes, fine, just the best seats you can find.
PF: (Bends down to search for binder that has seating chart in it for the venue. Takes sweet time finding binder that has seating chart in it for venue. Doesn't realize his life is in danger from crazed woman on other side of counter who can hear other people buying up her tickets) Um, here's row I. Is that okay?
Me: (Raises voice) YES, that is FINE. Just give me three seats, please.
PF: (More dumb staring at screen, more scratching) Oh, Row I is now sold out.
Me: (Gritting teeth, trying to think of what my childrens' lives would be like if I got sent to prison for killing PimpleBoy) Just get me the best seats available.
PF: Oh, that's weird. This says there's only one seat on Row I. You need three all together, right?
Me: (almost going ballistic) Yes, I need three. All together. In one spot. Three.
PF: Oh, that's weird. This says there are three seats in Row E. That's closer to the front. Would you like that?
Me: (thinking No, moron, I'd like farther from the stage) Yes, yes, yes. Just buy the seats, PLEASE!
PF: Oh, um, I like need your credit card.
Me: (wanting to shove said credit card into an orifice of his body that would prove highly uncomfortable for him) Here.
PF: This will take a minute.
Me: (thinking really, but you've been so quick thus far).
PF: (Not comprehending how close he came to injury, hands card back). You have a nice day, ma'am.
Me: (back in the safety of my car -- GAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!)
I work from home doing bookkeeping and case review for a company that I had previously worked for in California. I usually only work about 2 hours a day, unless there is a big project that needs doing. It is perfect for our family, because we don't have to pay for daycare for our kids. I just found out that the only other lady who does what I do at the office decided to quit yesterday. With. No. Notice. Nada. Nothing. Done. She just quits, then walks out, leaving muy muy projects and cases on her desk, halfway done. Which means guess what? I now have a 40 hour a week job, a four month old baby who is really funny about wanting me to hold her all the time, and a buttload of work that has to be done in a certain time limit. This will be great for the old paycheck, but crappy for my family and social life for awhile. That's why this post is so long. Just wanted you all to know if you don't hear from me for a few days, a week, a year, that I am okay, just buried under a mountain of work. Anyone who wants to come play with my kid or do my laundry is welcome to it.
posted by Missie | 11:22 AM
11 Comments:
::grins: Missie, I'll come play with your kid & do laundry..although for a nice price. haha. I do need money for college..although..how I'll get there is beyond me. ::frowns: You don't mind me carting along my three sisters & two other babysitting charges?
Good luck!
Oh yes, and on Pimple face...haha I woulda done exactly what you were contemplating. I have a very short fuse and a very large roll of ducttape!
~Jo
Duct tape! That's what I was missing! Thanks, Jo, I will remember to pack some with me next time.
Oh, and if you come play with my kid and do my laundry, you could bring along the whole state of Pennsylvania and I wouldn't care.
Sorry to hear about the workload, Missie. AND the moron at the counter. I had something similar at the doctor's office the other week, although not as spontaneous-human-combustion-inducing as yours was.
Camy
Your restraint is phenomenal, I would have been lunging across, tearing at his jugular with my bare teeth...Um...are you sure it was his neck he was scratching?
Sorry about the work-load crisis.
hehe Missie, that's great. I'll be there..now..where is it that you live again?
Man, I would have definitely strangled the teenager. This is why I like Ticketmaster and handling things myself. :)
Hugs on the sudden workload and the 4-month-old. Repeat this mantra: Exersaucers are a good thing. Exersaucers are a good thing. Let the baby play and watch you work at the same time. :)
Michelle,
I will have to go get one of those! She is not having fun in her swing right now, while I am trying to get work done. (see me here on my blog, giving that excuse!) I just wish she would take a nap. She is so tired and doing the whiney-noise thing. I am about to start the whiney-noises myself.
Camy,
Dr's offices can be the worst. I know, I worked in them for a long long time.
Thanks everyone else for stopping by. I want Robyn to come baaaaack! I miss her. I don't do the solo-blog thing well.
Ugh I can relate to the having no internet driving one crazy! Good luck with the buttload of work.
Ack, good luck with the work. And congrats on not maiming the pimply boy. I really hate slow people unless they're my grandma.
Hello! I just found your blog from a post Robyn made on the NaNoWriMo forums about the annoying perfection of Regency-era romance novel heroes...liked it so much I clicked the website link in her sig...and wound up here! I love it, my brother had to ask me if I was alright, because I was laughing like a maniac.
Awww, sorry to hear about the workload, annoying person and all...hopefully the sun will dawn over the pile of poopy diapers, dirty laundry and leftover paperwork...keep going!
Quirkychild,
Thanks for stopping by, and by your name alone, it sounds like you will fit in here just fine!
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