Rave: Went to Foxwoods on Saturday with the fiance, ate a ridiculously good meal, and saw Steven Wright and Nick DiPaolo. Perfect night with a lot of laughs. Rant: Did not get anywhere near enough sleep. I'm dragging ass today and my last day here at work is Wednesday, so I have a metric shit ton of stuff to do before I leave. Rave: Driving down to Myrtle on Thursday with a friend of mine for another buddy's bachelor party. Should be a lot of fun.
Rant: Kid that works for me has an odor problem. We hire a lot of, ahem, miscreants. It's expected that some are going to be a touch on the odoriferous side. This kid could incapacitate a dung beetle at 50 paces. He smells exactly like he shit his pants. We could weaponize whatever was in his drawers. In fact, I'm positive he did drop a load and didn't know how to react, so, judging by his breath, he ate his own shit then went back to work like nothing happened. When I went to check on his daily progress I had to gulp back my breakfast or else I would have puked right there. My eyes are watering just thinking of it. Day old roadkill is closer to fresh wild flowers. I've met guys like this before at a charter school that dealt with the undesirables from the county's public schools. Slow, cognitively disabled, lack of effect, plain ole dull. One wrong word away from violence. If he can't stock a retail store, then what is he supposed to do? He's going to end up knocking a joint over.I found half of his workload stuffed behind other crap on the shelves. Note that each box is labeled with the placement designation so it's not like he has to remember much of anything. He gets paid to match labels. Super Rant LOLS: Above dude has a kid.
Rant: Had another kidney stone on Sunday. 10 Hours in the hospital. This brings my grand total since age 16 up to 8. Apparently there is also one more sitting in my kidney. Could sit there for years before passing, could do it tomorrow. No one knows. Goddammit body get your shit together. Rave: Morphine at the hospital and Percocet with me at home. Hell of a drug.
Rave: I made a trip to Nebraska for some target shooting this past weekend and it was overall awesome. Rant: Tons of driving through the flat, boring hell known as Iowa and I rolled into the driveway just past midnight last night. I felt like shit at work today. Rave: I got promoted today and it came with a nice raise. I did not expect it and I am legitimately looking forward to my new role. I'm still working in sales but have more responsibility there and will also start doing more marketing work too.
Rant: I have to work a twelve today and my insomnia decided to set me up right for it, five hours of sleep. And fucking Colorado snowed again. It was 60 on Sunday, now it is in the teens. I WANT SPRING. WITH WARMTH AND FLOWERS AND STUFF.
Rant: Some asshole classmate hurt my wrist and hand today being a fucktard. Hey, jackass, I have the hands of a 6 year old. You can't use the same force as you would on yourself. Rave: Technically finished with 3 classes and my research project for the semester. Just have 4 classes to finish up. Rant: Today was my last lab with my favorite professor. I loved her classes and teaching style. She is known for making people cry in practicals, but I loved it. She was so blunt and hard on us because she wants us to be awesome. I think that she totally set the bar in terms of intellectually challenging me and teaching all kinds of practical skillz. She is the person that made me want to be a manual therapist, and I will probably always remember her quirks and sayings. I'll miss her a lot.
Very, very long and ragey. Spoiler I work with one of the most loathsome human beings I've ever met. This woman is fat, ugly, lazy, and fucking stupid as all hell in one lumpy package topped off with a hairstyle that on a more attractive woman would give a more youthful appearance but on her only reinforces the idea that an extra chromosome jumped on the bandwagon during gestation. Her first act every morning is to complain. Whine, bitch, moan, gripe, all manner of flapping her cunty fucking lips at a volume that wake Beethoven's corpse. This is not offset by any brevity, oh no. She will continue on for up to twenty minutes about the slightest fucking thing. You'll think she's done, and then "See, I just don't understand how/why" or "I'm not trying to bitch, I'm just saying (that I'm a worthless cunt and I owe Earth's flora for thirty years of wasted oxygen)". Over next to nothing. The effort and time that would require her to fix whatever massive issue she is on about would, ten times over, still be a fraction of that expended by her bitching. And that's her best fucking trait. I swear on my left nut, if Jesus Christ himself came down from on high and did all the shit that needs done, then left her a $500 in crisp bills with a glowing platinum not with gold leafing and lettering saying, "I love you, my child" she would have an hour-long tantrum about the way the fucking bill was folded. Oh, and that volume level? It isn't adjustable. She's like an ancient stereo. You have on and off and nothing else, and when you finally get off by the grace of her jaw locking up from overuse like a set of well-abused brakes, it's such a relief that you actually feel as if you're getting off. Her movement patterns are all that you would expect from a large and stupid person - slow, slower when talking, and even slower yet whenever she's blocking your path. Even better are the moments (hours) during which she combines these two practices. Countless are the times I've had to repeatedly fight for her attention as she flaps about her only friend in her life changing her fucking Glade plug-in or some equally cuntfuckingly inane bullshit while standing in a door that I need to get through with a 100-lb load in my arms. As if that weren't enough, the shitwhore actually has the nerve to bitch at me for doing my job. Oh, you want to use this area? This area is used, this time of day, every Godblessed day of the fucking week since fucking EVER for the same goddamn thing that no other part of this store can be used for. And you bitch at me because you can't walk ten feet the other fucking direction and do your shit there. Fucking. Die. I will concede, at the very least, that this woman is likely a chatterbox because she has no friends. However, she has no friends because she is the very perfect fucking picture of annoying cuntery. Her husband's best friend, her boss, once remarked along the lines of "I can't believe [husband] hasn't smacked the shit out of her yet with all the bitching she does." Fuck that. If I were married to that banshee I'd be giving the local news their first murder-suicide story of the year. Yeah, that rant's been about two years coming.
RANT/RAVE: Well 4 months and a couple of thousand in legal bills later my DUI ended up with me being granted a restricted licence for 4 months and a $260 dollar fine. For the record I blew: .073, opted for the blood test which came in at .059, which helped. Almost scraped through. Almost. Could have been worse, if I lost my licence work would have been very scetchy. Still not driving on weekends for 4 months is going to be a bit of a prick, glad I live within a $15 dollar cab ride to the city.
Rave: Ran 3, hiked 7 miles. Personal best. Plus other assorted leg workouts, too--can't wait to try and run tomorrow! Rave: One of the guys I went on a hike with is a hardcore fitness dude. He carried a massive log over his shoulder the entire hike (even uphill!) and only put it down to a)help me over a log bridge and b)stop at trail intersections and ask everyone to do burpees/planks/push-ups. He kicked my ass today and I loved it. Rant: Why, then, after a day of fitness feats, do I go into Buffalo Wild Wings with the group (their choice, not mine...I loathe that place) and mainline twelve honey BBQ wings? That was pointless. And highly processed. Ugh, I need to learn to maintain willpower even when I'm exhausted. So disappointed. And I was doing so well with eating whole foods, too. Rave: No ticks. There was a brief moment of sheer panic when a small twig fell out of my underpants (how did it even get in there?!), but I avoided them entirely. Yay!
Both: I just applied for a market manager position with a craft brewery here in Atlanta. It's a rant because it's a super looooong shot, since I have zero real world work experience (the university rarely lets me out of the lab) and have no idea what they're looking for in terms of that. It's a rave because the posting didn't indicate any education or experience requirements, which hopefully means they're open to unconventional candidates, and I will pee myself with excitement if they even reply to me. And if I get the job, then beer. Fuck, I love beer.
Rant: Round two. This may be the most bring thing I have ever done. Rant: Oh yeah... I was selected as a juror.
RAVE: Got my motorcycle jacket back from getting the zipper replaced. RANT: The fucking zipper is gold, all 8 other zippers on the fucking jacket are silver and they put a fucking gold one on. To top it off the stitching looks like complete shit and I think I could have done better. RANT/RAVE: And had an off color way to describe the stitching but couldn't bring myself to submit it.
Rave: 25th April, Anzac Day. The best day of the year. Rave: Dawn service followed by breakfast for fuck all at the returned services league club then beverages then watch the march then more beverages. Rant: Because I'm at a training establishment and Anzac Day is a Thursday this year I have to work Friday so it's going to hurt. Rave: Lest We Forget!
Rave: I just discovered Duck Dynasty. The best "reality" show ever. Am I the only one who would LOVE that life? Kill most of what you eat, blow shit up and irritate my bro the CEO? I'll even try the squirrel brains. Rant: I haven't had a chance to watch the new GoT due to work. It's actually irritating me, I gotta know what happens after the sudden liberation of Jamie's hand! Rave: Work is squaring up, hired some smart girls, one is retardedly hot. Seriously, I can't help but think dirty thoughts when she is around. Hopefully this passes because it's rather unprofessional. But damn, even my hot lesbo friend was drooling when she came to see me. If this is my "problem" I guess I'm doing pretty good.