10 pounds down 32 pounds to go!

Monday, August 11, 2008

Cranky (in which I whine a lot)

Dudes, I'm at work and I'm a ball of crank. If you looked up cranky in the dictionary it would totally say "there should be a picture of amy here but she was too cranky". I have a lot to do and I don't want to do any of it. They're all horrible things. I'm supposed to call the chicken place and convince them that we don't really need to meet the 400 dollar minimum order and can you please send us chickens. Did I tell my boss about the chicken dillemma Friday? I did. And about the $400 minimum? Yup. Did I leave him a very specific note to CALL ME BEFORE MONDAY if he wanted chickens? I did. But to no avail. He didn't call me because he didn't want to bother me (heh) so now I have to pull 50 chickens out of my ass which is so much more convenient, THANK YOU.

And also the other computer isn't here because on Friday you agreed to have it fixed. It's at the fixing place. Why are you asking me who's fixing it and where they are and if they're any good and did we drive that far NOW? Why didn't you ask me FRIDAY? You know, when I said it's time to get professional help (heh) and you said "OK, who do we call?" and I said the Mac guy and you said "ok". Remember that? No, well, obviously. You say you don't want to be hassled about the details and that you want people to just get the job done, well, that involves not telling you every detail about the fixing of a computer that you can't even turn on, 'kay? Also it's not my fault that envelope came back, I am not the post office...and you're grilling me about a STAMP after what happened Friday...NOT OK.

Amazingly I don't want to eat an antelope. I sort of do want a nap though. I want to sleep all the time though, A. because of the rain and B. things are crappy. The weather has been INSANE lately. Matt and I worried about drought for about ten minutes and then it started raining every damn day. I do my laundry with reckless abandon now and that's the most I have to look forward to. I did so well with not being really involved at work, it worked for a long time...5 months if I don't count the super shit-tastic first month. I don't know that I'm necessarily more emotionally attached, I'm just finding it more difficult to do the ridiculous things I'm asked to do. Maybe it's knowing that I could not be paid for doing those ridiculous things that makes me feel how terrible things are here. I'm the person that people are going to complain to when payroll doesn't go through, I'm the person who people threaten to punch when their suppliers don't get paid (oooh, Matt really liked that when I told him about it), I am the conduit to the boss and I really, really don't like it. I do not want people thinking that his insane decisions are mine, that all the mean spirited and cold things I'm asked to do are of my choosing, or god forbid that I actually LIKE him.

I always told myself I'd leave when I couldn't take it anymore "The money is good, just stay until you have to leave or something better comes around". How do you know when it's so bad you have to leave or is the fact that we aren't making payroll at the height of the season reason enough to pull the plug. The worst is what will I tell my father if I quit a job for no real reason except that it drives me crazy. He will laugh, and then he will dis-own me because work is supposed to be hard and you're not supposed to like it and tough luck. Although he might agree when he hears about the finances.

And apprapos of nothing I made some truly awful oatmeal raisin cookies this weekend, they were heinous. The recipe was so bad it should be burned out of the book. Mark Bittman How to Cook Everything I'm looking at you!


Sugarcrook said...

If there's a question on payroll being met, get out of there, but line up something else first. Companies aren't loyal to the employee, so you're on your own. Your State might have the equivalent of an employment wage complaint - can't hurt to be familiar with it early. Also, you could look into speaking with your local DA about lost wages. Lost wages mean lost tax dollars, something States take seriously.

Speaking of chickens, I've been splitting whole chickens in half then grilling with indirect heat, then turning the meat into chicken salad. Dirt cheap lunches.

And finally, there is no excuse for bad cookies.

Amy said...

They really were the worst, even Matt wouldn't eat them.

The Jamaicans smoke the chickens whole and then halve them to barbecue them. It smells really good.

I'm definitely looking up the wage laws. Really I just want out, if we're treading water now we're fucked come winter.