Messages from Mars

No, you silly kids, I have not fallen off the face of the earth. I've just been stupidly busy and a lot of things have been happening and a lot of things have stayed the same and then there's the whole I'm an incredibly lazy person who has very little interest in hauling my ass to Costo to refill certain medications that um, keep me like sort of alive and stuff and even though I didn't totally run out I haven't been taken everything I'm supposed to and oops, I pretty much feel like shit warmed over I'm dumb.

OK, just what has happened in the last few weeks? Well, I got that awesomely awesome news about the scan and I still feel like the rusty lock on my cage was opened and the door finally swung open and fresh air is replacing my stank. While I don't like to take my emotional temperature too often, I remain pleasantly happy. I still carry the thoughts that I no longer have to eat the shit sandwich handed to me on a dirty plate every day for the rest of my life because I'm branded with the big "C". Now I need to really get my health back because happiness does not equal healthy and I want to be both. I'm selfish like that.

Another huge change is my job. When my boss was a complete and utter ass-licking douchebag cunt to me while I was in the middle of my scan, I vowed I would not work for that fucker for another fucking day. On that same day I was cruising the job listings within my company and low and behold, a job I was qualified for was posted, that same day and I applied toot sweet. And the hiring manager just so happened to be someone who was in my division and transferred out in less than a year because he too thought our boss was a douchebag cunt. So I had that going for me too.

I interviewed the next week and what was supposed to be an hour chat turned in to more than 2 hours of shooting the shit and by the time I got home I had an e-mail waiting for me saying how hard I had rocked it and now it was pretty much formalities to get through.

Minor Digression.

On the way to my work for the interview I almost died. I was driving on the freeway and some old beater truck flew past me 2 lanes away to my left going about 90. All of a sudden, the trucks big, black, plastic bed liner caught air and went flying into the sky about 30 feet straight up, did 3 full flips, then caught another air drift, changed course and started coming right at my car and what seemed like right through my windshield. I had a split-second image of that thing crashing through the glass and taking my head off, or smashing my entire car and me in it.

Then, some strange force or fate sucked that bed liner to the ground flat but in my lane and my path. My cat-like reflexes jumped into action and I pulled a Mario Andretti move whipping my car to the right, tires squealing, and around the liner. Another miracle that there wasn't a car in the lane to my right. I looked in my rearview mirror and saw the semi that was behind me come to a smoking halt to avoid running the thing over. The stupid beater truck, who obviously saw what happened, gunned it even more and took off, no way I could catch up. So, I put a curse on him, took a chill pill, and aced my interview. The end.

Digression over.

I must admit after all the misery I've been in for years and all of the complaining I've done, that made me sick of my own voice, the thought of a new job was giving me hives. Very small, cute hives. You see, I don't like change and even if something sucks the high hard one, if I'm used to it then I can deal. But I was determined to stick to my guns and my decision to set a boundary and abide by it. Even if it meant I'd have to start over and flush my knowledge base down the toilet.

Well, I got the job! It came with a new direct report that I dig, apparently the big manager man has a reputation for being good people, I get to move to a new building and the best part, a 10% raise in pay. It still doesn't bring me to a level that I deserve (I know, everyone says that but for me it's true), but it's review time and judging by the whopping 1.5% I got last year, there was no way I would get close to 10%. And I don't have to sit through a useless review with my useless (former, ha!) boss that I have a feeling I'd lose my shit somewhere in the middle and put my middle finger up his nose while telling him to kindly go fuck himself gently with a chainsaw.

I did learn after I accepted the position that I'm losing an office and gaining a cubicle. Which blows. Don't be all offended if you work in a cube farm and be all who does she think she is because you know it blows too. I haven't been in a cubicle for 10 years, but I keep telling myself that the pros outweigh the the cons by so much I'm not going to complain about a missing roof and door. I just hope the people around me can deal with me hanging up from a phone call and yelling things like assfucking retard or motherfucking dickweed when someone's been mean to me. And I get to wear jeans on Fridays!

When I returned back to work after my medical leave I sat on pins and needles before I got the official word and it took me about an hour to get the nerve to tell my boss. I finally did and he was ecstatic. And not in a sarcastic "thank god my biggest pain in the ass is leaving" way. He seemed genuinely happy and I was given a nice send off with much support and good wishes. I was already happy but leaving on a good note was making it that much better. Until the next day...

He was a total cocksucker. Didn't take care of any outstanding issues we had. Gave me about 3 months worth of work to complete in 7 working days and a few objectives that there was no way in fucking hell I could ever get done. Once again, he set me up for failure. I trained no one and wasn't given any official word of who my replacement, whether permanent or interim, would be. Which means that 89% of what I do and how to do it is now locked up in my pretty little head.

I'm trying to let it go and I secretly hope this comes down on his head because that is no way to be a manager. Just blows me away. And he never said goodbye on Friday, which I took as a message loud and clear, but whatever. I'll be sending everyone who needs help directly to him, which sucks because I liked a lot of the people I've been helping for the last 4 years and they don't deserve the hassle, but I also hope people get how fucking hard I've worked and that I didn't receive the recognition I should have. ~flips off boss~

So, tomorrow I start a new journey and hope no one thinks I'm a half brain and questions their decision to hire me. And if they do, I'll just move on and find something else.

In other news...I've been thinking seriously about becoming a dog trainer again. Figuring out just how to do this is proving to be a challenge, but I'll keep trying. If you have any inside info please let me know.

Besides those developments, not much else is going on. I've been working long hours and coming home without the brain power to do much more than work a remote. I've been watching a metric ton of reality TV and loving (almost) every minute of it. The new cast of The Real World is gaggle of total lunatics and I'm not sure how the anorexia story-line is going to go. That poor girl is really, really, really messed up and frankly I don't think the world is ready to understand that disease.

I was so pulling for Daniel on Project Runway until I saw his final collection. Why, Daniel, why? Why did you have to try and mix Asian with military? Why the cardboard shields hanging from their boobs? Why didn't you listen to Tim when he was hmm-ing and squinting at your uneven hems? And speaking of Tim Gunn. I have a good old-fashioned hag crush on him. It pains me that I don't live in New York and have no hopes of stalking him until he tells me to carry on. I love you Tim Gunn.

I was not happy with Chloe winning since her entire wardrobe was Barbi circa 1986, but at least Santino took third place. That devil man. And I want to give anyone who watched this series with me a big pat on the back for enduring Heidi Klum's fingernails-on-a-chalkboard voice. My god, it almost makes you want to switch her head with Janice Dickenson. Almost.

And that's about it. Pretty boring, huh? But don't worry, when things settle in with my new position and I get some energy back I'll be able to write more often. And never fear, despite being mellower with all the happiness and shit I still have a million things to rant about because the world is populated with stupid people. The friggen world I have to live on because I couldn't fall off of it even if I wanted to.