The Help

I promise, if I ever earn a position of quasi-power, I will NEVER treat my subordinates like furniture. I won't.

One of the main reasons I am starting a new job next week is that I do not have any flexibility to deal with my kid stuff. At this current job, if my kid gets sick, my boss (and her boss) say things like, "you DO know that EAs don't have the luuuuxury of working at home." On a Tuesday in December when it was 20 degrees outside and my furnace went out and we were all huddled between space heaters and the fireplace for the night, I had to be home during the next work day to have my new furnace installed. (Did I mention....20 degrees??). And, I got the "you DO know that EAs don't have the luuuuxury of working at home" spiel. To which I responded, "what would you suggest I do? I can wait until Saturday. I certainly hope it doesn't get any colder." FUCKTARDS. Any other person in my office (besides "the help") would have just said, "I'm having a furnace installed. I'll get to the office when I can." BUH-BYE.

My point is this: I am fully functioning, 42-year old, intelligent parent of human people. I'm not an idjit, I'm not slow, I don't need special accommodations, I can read and write, I understand every aspect of my job perfectly. I'm not a piece of office furniture. If you have to make me feel like a piece of shit in order to make yourself feel more powerful...? You've got the wrong bitch. I'll be respectful and accommodating. I really will. BUT when you start treating me like the house nigga (or worse yet...the field nigga), I get all irked and I start becoming very difficult.

About once a week, my boss comes in late or leaves early or takes an extra long lunch so she can go to a kid event. I think it's GREAT! As a fellow mom, I appreciate her taking the time out of her very precious day to do a kid thing. I do not have that luxury. I understand perfectly well that, on the professional food chain, I'm right near the bottom. I get it. However, as a fellow MOM, I would have expected the boss-lady to have some compassion or at the very least, some understanding and flexibility enough to allow me to enjoy the occasional kid event during a work period.

I am now in full pursuit of an actual career. My new job is still in a support role. However, my new boss is known for developing his staff. After I earn my BS degree, I will (hopefully) move within the new company. I do not plan to eat shit for much longer.

I'm leaving 30 minutes early from work today to get my son to his basketball practice on time. The fuck are they gonna do? fire me? Smoke THAT bitches!

Whoremoans are REAL

Normally, I am a very balanced and sane person. However, last week, I had the inevitable post-hysterectomy mental incapacitation. I decided, in my crazed stupor, that I would go through my man's cell phone to see if he's cheating on me. HUH?  You're wondering if I had any reason to suspect him of cheating? No. None whatsoever. Except the WHOREMOANS told me to do it and I believed them. They are very powerful.

I went through his phone and saw a text to some chick named "Venus" that stated Hey baby! when are we going to lunch. I'm getting hungry. LOL! HOLY SHITBALLS! He's having lunch with some chick he calls "baby". WAIT! I'M BABY!!

After dissolving into a puddle of tears for the next 2 days straight, like a fool, I asked him about it. Because I couldn't reason with myself that it wasn't what I thought it was. I know some of you readers will think I'm being naive, but when I tell you he wouldn't cheat, I mean he'd cheat as much as I would cheat. We think the same way on this: if we want to step outside the relationship, each of us is free to do that. Just make your way out...and don't bother coming back. No hard feelings. So, I asked him about the text and he was a) shocked that I'd checked his phone; b) was very disappointed that I didn't trust him and; c) he explained that he and his friends had been swapping phone while they were in Vegas the week before - the text was from his friend Bip to Bip's girl, Venus. And here's how I know he was telling the truth: because he always spells "Hey" as "Hay" and he never uses the LOL. Also? There would have been 2 to 3 other spelling errors in his text. Again, I'm not being naive. I just KNOW how he writes. So. I believe him and I curse the fucking whoremoans to hell for making me THAT GIRL.

In other news, I have quit my job. Unfortunately, the firm has asked me to stay on for the term of my 2 week notice. I was hoping they'd tell me to fuck off and kick rocks so I could go home and get paid to lay around for 2 weeks. My new job allegedly starts on March 5th. Yeah, I said allegedly. I took a pee test today as part of the pre-employment testing. I don't do drugs, let me just say that now. But my man smokes copious amounts of weed. In the evenings after the kids are asleep he sits beside me and smokes his herb. I don't know if it has ever been proven if a contact high is real or not real. I guess I'll find out when my pee test comes back. It would REALLY suck to fail a pee test based on not having smoked weed since 1994.

I also had to complete a "physical" for the pre-employment test. The physical consisted of my height, my weight, could I read a line on a vision testing chart and could I touch my toes. When the nurse gave me the thingy to cover my eye for the vision test (cover one eye, read, then cover the other eye and read), I stared at the instrument with horror. "Uh, can someone clean this off for me? Sorry, but I have no idea how many filthy eyeballs have been on this thing." Last thing I need is herpes of the fucking eye because some creeper didn't disclose his STDs.

I should have kept last week's whoremoans. It's easier to do stuff I don't want to do when I am able to be a complete raving bitch the whole time I'm doing it.

Life changes maybe shouldn't happen when you're high

But then again....maybe they totally should. I wasn't high when I started this change, but I'm periodically on pain meds now. Someone could successfully argue that being high is not the right time to make life changes. But I would never hang around those people, so....fuck 'em.

I have mentioned before that I'm sort of unhappy about my job situation. I'm a lot happier lately, but only because I'm being paid to stay home for the past 4 weeks. I don't know if that counts as being happy with my job CURRENTLY. In any event, it seems I have talked myself into a new job. I had an initial interview in December, but I had a second interview about 2 weeks after my surgery. It seems they would like to hire me as soon as possible. They have even sent me an offer letter. There are a few loose ends that need tied up before I can accept their offer, including negotiating an extra benefit to which I would not be entitled as a new employee.  Also, I would very much like to collect my bonus and dividend from the current company which pays out this month, but is based on last year's performance. It will take some slick PR work on my part, but I think I can make it all happen without hurting too many feelings. In the long run, the only feelings that matter are mine, Because, just so happens, I live with myself every day and I'll likely never see any of those other people again.

My son is driving me insane. He's 13 and a total fucktard!! I hope he loses some of the attitude by the time he's 16. He's ADHD and hyper off the charts when he's not on his meds. I try to keep him burning his energy. Right now he's in track, baseball and basketball! He has enough energy for every person in my house. He has the type of energy people sell on street corners in front of liquor stores in the 'hood. Some days I wonder how much I could get for him if I sell him at those liquor stores.

I'll take my leave now. The tylenol 3 and glass of wine are calling...in harmony.