CONTINUED WORK RANT: Yep. They fucked me. Went into a meeting on Wednesday thinking we were going to discuss my severance and my eventual end date....instead I'm handed a legal document letting me know my last day is next Friday and my severance was 6k less than what we verbally agreed upon, because, as they put it, "This is whats best for the business." Semi-Rave: I gave up all vestiges professionalism and got away with telling them it was a fucking joke and a slap in the face. Apparently, I got so dirty, it made my (female) boss cry. Which was at least a moral victory.
Rant: God damn mother-in-law is at it again. We went over there today, and when packing the bag for our daughter, my wife doesn't pack formula, because we had bought a full can for my mother-in-law about a few weeks ago, and told the MIL to let us know when she was low and we'd buy more. Because the MIL didn't say anything, we assumed she still had some formula. She did not. Why did this turn into an issue? Well, for the past week, she has been giving my daughter a different formula when she watches her. Coincidentally, my daughter has been having stomach issues for the past week or so, and not sleeping as well. The MIL has also been complaining that my daughter isn't "eating well" at her house. Well, no shit, you've changed her formula and she has noticed and doesn't like the new stuff. When my wife saw my mother-in-law made the change without consulting us at all, she flipped her shit. Naturally, mother-in-law got all defensive, and started saying "its the same thing!" Its not. Its not even close to the same thing. If it was, my kid would have no problems at all. Her next argument is: "But she is old enough that switching formulas shouldn't be a big deal." Well, actually, switching back and forth between two formulas in the same day IS a big deal, as is evidenced by our daughter's recent stomach issues and trouble sleeping after the MIL watches her, not to mention the kid seemingly hates the stuff. Next argument up: "This is organic, it is healthier than the stuff you give her! I've been telling you to give her organic formula for weeks and you don't listen to me!" Awesome. Essentially, "You're shitty parents giving her unhealthy crap, I'm just fixing it for you!" At this point, it was all I could do not to tell her to go fuck herself in front of her whole fucked up family. So finally, once I compose myself (I had to step out of the room, because I was so fucking mad) I say "listen, imagine this was YOUR child, and someone you trusted to watch her switched formulas, without telling you or even asking if it was okay. You would absolutely lose your mind. Whether it was healthy or not would make no difference, and neither would the intent. You'd lose it because they're ignoring YOUR wishes as the child's mother, and making decisions about YOUR child without consulting you." This is followed by her saying "I would never try to hurt her!" No fucking shit! That isn't what this is about! This is about respecting us enough to let us make decisions for our own child, and trusting that we (who spend 90% of the time with her) know more about our child and know her better than the MIL does (who spends about 8% of the time with her... the other 2% is my mom). Rave: My wife was so mad on the way home that she basically told me to quit my jobs and be a full time stay-at-home dad so that we don't have to deal with this bullshit anymore. My wife feels it would make us happier, because we wouldn't have to deal with finding babysitting, driving our kid around, and it would drastically reduce the amount of time she spends with the overreacting, anger-inducing mother-in-law. I've been looking for ways to reduce how much time she spends with the MIL as it is, because clearly the MIL has zero respect for us as parents. It would also free up more time for us to do things around the house, and more time for my wife and I to spend together, because it feels like we only see each other about an hour a day. Rant: It would mean no more adult interaction on a regular basis for me. I sort of need that to keep my sanity. Financially, it would also be a bit of a strain. I don't make a LOT of money, but I make enough to cover some of the bills and leave us with some extra spending cash at the end of the month. We'd likely have to cut back on some things, but we'd be able to make it work.
Rave: Sitting on Facebook, some random girl friend requests me and messages me. She's a friend of my brother's friend, thought I was cute, etc. Wow, awesome. Not exactly the brightest bulb on the tree, but I'm perfectly happy to meet up with someone if she's gonna throw herself at me like that. Rant: She's 18, lives with her parents, doesn't have a car, doesn't have a job, and lives an hour and a half away from where I'll be staying when I'm home on leave. She's not that hot, and I'm not that desperate. Rave: Going home on December 20th, staying for two weeks. It'll be nice.
Rave: Sometimes my job is fun. A new client wants to run a clinical trial on a new substance intended to increase sexual stamina and performance in middle-aged individuals. I got to review the protocol for that trial today. My comments, so far, include the phrases: * Please be more specific in your use of the phrase "penetration" - is "just the tip" sufficient, or is there a minimum length of insertion required to classify as full penetration? * Please clarify your use of the phrase "changes in conjugal regime" - are you talking about changes in patterns regarding where the participants are sleeping, or is that more relating to sexual position changes, i.e. for the last six months, participants have moved from missionary to female-on-top as their modus operandi. * Please amend the document to clarify "sexual role playing", as opposed to "role playing", since the latter could refer to the gaming industry and thus skew the results.
Rant: I got a last minute job and had to stay in all Thanksgiving weekend working. Didn't see the need to make my wife suffer too so she's on a diving trip at the Red Sea. Rave: The last minute job is a huge opportunity. And with no one around to say otherwise, I got to order sushi for Thanksgiving dinner.
Rave: Got two free tickets today to the Giants and Packers game, just have to go pick them up tomorrow. Rave: They are in the $20,000 PSL section. Her tickets in the old Giants stadium were on the 40 yard line, 7 rows from the field. I can't wait to see where these tickets are.
One of the best things about living in another country is the horror, confusion, astonishment and wonder one feels with every visit to the toilet. It's as if my diet here consists of Buddhist rage, gravel, hedgehogs and chunks of broken mix cd's made by tearful teenagers. In other news, I am going to a Korean buffet this evening.
Rant: One of my guys decided not to come to work today. He also turned his phone off, so I had absolutely no idea where he was. Ended up calling his fuckbuddy; he was over at her house getting his sexin' on. For those who don't know, Absence Without Leave (called UA [Unauthorized Absence] in the Marine Corps, AWOL in the Army) is a crime. He picked the best possible day to do it - holiday weekend. No higher-ups, no civilians to rat on him, and all the maintenance was done. No real harm done. At the same time, he's a fucking retard. I've seen people get burned for being half an hour late to work, and this dude didn't show up to an 8-hour shift. Dude's getting promoted to Corporal on the first and then EASing three months from now. I really, really, really don't want to fuck him, which means I don't really want to report him to higher. The moment I do that, he's getting a battalion-level NJP and getting busted down to PFC, forty-five days restriction, forfeiture of half his pay for two months, guaranteed. MSgt would probably just make him weed the desert for a week, but CWO3 Stalin would jump for joy and masturbate furiously while writing his charge sheet. I'm thinking that the punishment is going to be making him come to work on his weekend for a few weeks. I don't like being an asshole, especially since this guy is a really good friend of mine, but sometimes you have to let business be business. If I didn't do that, then I wouldn't be doing my job. Still makes me feel like crap to tell him that he'll be working eighteen straight days, but I can't think of many other ways to punish him without sending him to go stand tall before the Man.
Rant: Goddamn selfish guys in bed, man. I'm so annoyed right now. I'm going to go cry into the leftovers and use some turkey grease as lube BY MYSELF.
How fucked up do you think it is when your boss asks you how your house purchase is going, then tells you that you either take a pay cut or lose your job? Then after accepting a pay cut, he then tells you that your job is probably not lasting beyond December anyway? Thanks for ruining not only my holidays, the hope that I might own a home, and for making my girlfriend cry all weekend.
RANT: You suck at life, Rutgers. You suck, suck, suck. All you had to do was win today since UConn did the job for you - you would've clinched the Big East and gone to the Orange Bowl. I'd have rather watched fat people fuck than keep watching that abortion today. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you. RANT: Can't watch the game that determines the Big East winner - I'll be out in the field with the county task force arresting probies. Which would usually be okay if it didn't fall on a day my alma mater could make history. RAVE: The boy agreed to DVR the game for me.
Rant: Family stress, The Dude stress, holiday stress, work stress. All of it led to me rallying the kids tonight for "bake night!" which was, of course, a thinly veiled excuse for me to stuff my face with homemade chocolate chip cookies and temporarily stuff my sorrows deep inside (my belly). Rave: I am "the bestest cookie maker lady," according to the littlest one. Her palate is simplistic, but I am going to ignore that and focus on the soft glow coming from my soothed ego. Rant: But seriously, now my pants are tight. Goddamn it.
RANT: So I finagled a graduate degree for free by agreeing to be a research assistant for my university, which isn't necessarily a bad thing. Except that this semester, I'm calculating and explaining the statistics for two nursing students' theses. They're both fucking clueless about statistics, and half of what they've asked me for, I'm pretty sure they decided they needed by opening a copy of "Statistics for the Social Sciences" and picking terms with their eyes closed. Even that, I can get over. BUT Spoiler if this one girl's thesis advisor emails me one more goddamn time without reading a fucking word I've written in the previous email, I will scream and tell her to die in a fire. I have been saying for three days that you can't assess these variables for normality because they're discrete. I explained twice that ordinal variables are, by definition, a categorical variable. I fixed your student's dataset because she waited until two weeks before her defense to send me her data, and when I got it, a tenth of her subjects were missing crucial information. Now look, lady, I'm tired and my shoulder hurts from being hunched over a computer desk for hours. I know more about analysis than you learned in your one statistics for the health sciences class, which is why I'm doing the analysis instead of you or your student. So please please please read what I have painstakingly written or do me the grand favor of kindly fucking off. RAVE: Two more weeks, and I'm on Christmas break. Time to start crafting pint glasses out of painted beer bottles!
Rant: I sure hope I haven't fucked over my life completely here in the past couple weeks due to my own idiocy in regard to grad school. I'm depending heavily on the benevolence of a professor. I hope she will take pity on me. Rant: I can never make my life easy. I can't figure out why I consistently refuse to do the things I know should be done.
Rant: Not sure what I ate that has been destroying my stomach for the past 12 hours, but it has me seriously considering never eating again.
Too late to edit so double post RAVE: Toronto got rid of its incompetent money wasting redneck piece of shit mayor in a conflict of interest case. When asked he admitted he never even read the fucking counsellor guidebook on how to not fuck up like this. Good riddance.