Tuesday, March 2, 2010

Already I Miss the Games

Hello world! Look at me, all full of myself because I uninstalled a couple of ridiculously memory-taxing programs from my desktop and … voila! … I’m running at a semi-normal speed again. But I’m still packing the sucker up and sending it to Little Big Brother for his expertise in compu-doctoring.

S’okay, though, cuz I have my backup work laptop home semi-permanently (e.g., until we need it back at the plant for someone else to use … but since we already have two other backup laptops sitting on the shelf in my office, I’m not seeing that happening any time soon … good thing, too, because I use it, a lot).

So. Where was I? Oh, yeah! I’m sort of back, a bit. We’ll see how the desktop behaves for the rest of the week, and then she/he/it’s off to LBB’s Saturday. My word, I haven’t tweeted in a month! And facebook’s been so sporadic folk have resorted to e-mailing me direct.

But right now I’m kind of going through some SERIOUS WINTER GAMES WITHDRAWAL, people. I am. I really, really am. I keep re-watching the last couple days of events, because I am loath to delete them from my DVR. And I cry eh-hev-vary time Joannie Rochette is shown; then I grin like mad whenever the funhappytimes are broadcast, and even giggle just a little at the temper tantrums, and broader-than-broad flat-out smile at Kevin Pearce’s ongoing recovery (and, yes, lecherously leer at my Aksel). And you know what? The hockey didn’t suck. The final scores? Yeah, sucked a little. But the games? ROCK ON!

Sigh. Guess its time to start watching the new season of American Idol. Or maybe not. I just can’t decide … prolly why I’m currently on my computer whilst recording AI; just in case I decide I don’t want to jump on the semi-pro-talent-show ride quite yet. I’m trying to decide if I should just wait until they get down to the top 10, or if I should check in now so I’ll have a starting opinion on the future celebrities.

I dunno. Maybe I’m just done with AI. Could happen … you don’t know! Oh, who am I kidding? I love me some AI drama.

We’ve had our 2009 reviews at work last week, and mine came complete with Lisa discharging her world-famous “FUCK YOU!” Face. That’s the expression I get the absolute nano-second something sets me off and I’m not in a position to scream invective all over its ass. Of course it wasn’t anywhere near as bad as I took it, and my review turned out exactly as I wrote it (I work at one of those places that has the employees write their own review and hand it in for re-review and discussion), so no worries after all.

It’s weird, because work doesn’t know I’m living with that Bastard RA, because I hide it incredibly well, if I do say so myself (and I do, in case you were wondering). But I also pretty much collapse into a sleep-coma on Friday night, with the zzz-covery phase lasting until sometime Sunday afternoon. So, when I was told the expectation is that, as a salaried individual, I should work 10 hours a day, my FYF fair blew my eyebrows right off my noggin and sent them orbiting my skull in dizzying spirals of youcanNOTbeserious.

“What kind of whatthefuckery is this?!” I hissed to myself in thought-speak, whilst eye-measuring my poor boss, unbeknownst to him, for his impending bitch-slap. Poor guy … he got the FYF full-blast, but I didn’t say anything, because I know better than to actually open my mouth when my temper has gone off the chart. So he kind of stammered along for a minute or two then decided we’d meet again later in the week to finalize our discussion.

And it’s not so much the 10 hours a day part, because I did that happily before that Bastard RA moved into my life … it’s that I get SO DEFENSIVE about it having to be in the plant, because I have this system and it works: in a nutshell, what I don’t finish at the plant, I finish up at home.

You’ve heard it before: there are only 24 hours in a day, and 20+ of mine are sucked up by sleep (8), wake-up/get ready (1-2), commute (1+ each way), and work (8+) … so there’s not a whole lot of time left in my day for the rest of it, which is everything else.

However, if I simply can’t finish up what I’m doing at the plant, I login at home and do it there. So C’MON!! What more do you WANT?!?!

And that’s just at the starting gate of what runs through my thoroughly defensive head behind my lovely FYF, folks.

But in all seriousness? Life is swell. Truly scrumptious (see how long it takes you to get THAT little jingle out yo head now … and if you don’t know to what I refer, think Chitty Chitty Bang Bang for a sec … aaaand, HAH HAH!).

Just got off the phone with Big Big Brother, to whom I stated (just because, mind you), “I’m not going to waste my time and energy on a book that doesn’t have a happy ending” to justify my reading the last few pages of books first, to determine whether I’m going to bother actually reading the whole thing.

To which he replied, “Jeez, you’re like, mental”. Quickly followed by an ever so slightly sarcastic, “I don’t read any books that have a ‘y’ in them.”

I call smartass on the Triple B!


Alaskan Dave Down Under said...

Bang bang Chitty-Chitty Bang Bang, our fine four fendered friend

Jus passin along an earworm...

Great movie BTW. May have to watch it this week.

la isla d'lisa said...

And you TOTALLY win, if my singing the Chitty Chitty Bang Bang theme song all morning long at the top of my lungs is any indication. In my defence, after a half hour so many of my peers had joined in it was a veritable 5th floor sing-along. We. Were. Truly. Scrumptious.

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