Can't Wait for This Week!

Why? Because it's going to be AMAZING.  Here's what's going to happen:

• Through the power of positive thinking, I will lose 8 pounds this week while eating whatever I want, AND my hair is going to look great everyday.
• My backlog of work, which would probably congest the administrative facilities of a small island nation, will yield to the slightest of efforts, falling away like a prom dress at 1:00am,
• The mountain of laundry on my bedroom floor will somehow magically wash, fold, and iron itself,
• Lighting bolts of positivity and enthusiasm are going to shoot out of my ass with the force of an intercontinental ballistic missile,
• Hell, I might even grow a few inches!!

Honestly, I'm pretty sure this week is probably going to be another marathon, and I have got to get a handle on my to-do list, which at last glance was one and a half pages long.  Unfortunately, it's college ruled paper, mind you.

Seriously, though, I am trying to be positive about the days ahead.  I have no idea how it is that I'm always behind, except that I must get some kind of thrill out of biting off more than I can chew.  The idea that I'm addicted to the martyrdom of all-nighter and work-life imbalance is surely not palatable, making me sound...well, imbalanced. 

I need therapy, don't I?  I'm pretty sure they must have some mystical analytical tradition in India that would help me overcome it (if not, I know for a fact they at least have scotch!).  Geez, leave it to me to fabricate a mental disorder out of simple disorganization, and use that as an excuse to go drinking in India.  No matter how I think of it, all roads lead to India. 

The Time Machine

Has it been long enough, or just entirely too long?

I feel like I've been in some crazy time machine, and it's almost impossible to believe that it's been 18 months since my last confession. Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.

Lots of things have happened since the last post. When I say a lot, I'm not kidding.

Jared has graduated high school and spent the last year and a half wasting every minute on girls, booze, chewing tobacco, and any other imaginable trappings trailer park opulence. He has also, in that time, joined the Marine Corps, and is currently enjoying his 2nd week on beautiful Parris Island. I understand the bugs are particularly juicy this time of year.

Tyler is a senior this year, and he's enjoying the easy schedule that comes along with it and looking for a job that suits his skills, which include arm wrestling, pie-eating, video gaming, and watching football. If you know anyone who would like to hire such a young man, please contact me. Immediately.

Garrett is still cool, and I'm still a trophy wife.

A trophy wife with a new job, that is! I started a new position in July and now I'm managing a team of offshore recruiters in India. I love this gig...and get ready for this...drumroll, please! I'm going to India in October for two weeks to train my troops, and I'm so very excited. Stay tuned for updates on my upcoming trip; I promise not to wait 18 months to tell you about it.

By the way, I still have that Effing Car, Auto Von Crapp. Auto is paid off and will continue to vex me until my desire to drive something other than rolling poo exceeds my desire to save my pennies. Keep waiting, folks....Garrett, that means you!

Now that we're all caught up, I'll resume the regularly scheduled silliness and observational humor in the next post. If you're still reading, thanks for hanging in there!

Vacation Day

Oh, the romance! The luxury! Who am I kidding? A day off from work can be a beautiful thing, even without romance and luxury.

Sometimes it's not the presence of swaying palms that makes the time special; it's the mere absence of the constant hassle and endless emergencies, even when those pressures are replaced by grocery runs, Costco trips, bank deposits, and laundry.

Case in point, I had no choice but to take a day off today, since I've gotten so behind in my household tasks and errands. Of course, the recent drama at work hasn't helped much, so on Wednesday I decided that a day off would be just the thing, and blurted out at the end of a meeting, "Hearing no objections, I'll be taking Friday off."

Response: "That's sudden. What's going on Friday?"

Me: "Nothing. I just need the day off to recover from recent employment-related threats to my mental health."

So, here I am, with a list of errands and a mountain of laundry. Strangely enough, it feels like a day on the beach.

The Blog is Dead, Long Live the Blog

I know. I’ve been absent. I owe rants on a variety of topics, but in my typical self-indulgent fashion, I’m going to rant about something else. Right now, my freedom of choice has become scarce and precious, so I’ve got to exercise it when I can. The good news: I’m about as drunk as Cooter Brown as I type this. Now, if you’re from Texas, you know Cooter Brown, and you know that means I’m really, seriously, three sheets to the wind.

More good news: the pups are doing really well these days. Hoover’s fur has become soft as a bunny, and Bruno is turning into the world’s best and biggest snugglebug. Those pooches are really a bright spot for me. J & T are also doing pretty well, except that J has Mono, just in time for spring break, graduation, and prom – yay!

Even more good news: Garrett is still the bomb-diggity, and he’s made so much progress on the yard that it actually ALMOST LOOKS DECENT. In the intervening weeks since my last post, I’ve had no complaints on the G front. I have, however, had plenty to gripe about on the work front.

Now for your reading displeasure, I’m proud to present the Top 10 Reasons My Employer Can Suck It.

1. They laid me off from the position I liked.
2. After laying me off, they gave me a job I didn’t want.
3. Once I started the job I didn’t want, they gave me a promotion to a worse position.
4. The promotion didn’t come with a raise.
5. The promotion required me to perform, on average, 38 additional hours per week, raising my normal weekly hours worked to almost 80.
6. The number of hours I’m now working is sucking the life out of me.
7. They moved the office to a new space with NO cubicle walls.
8. I now have to stare at my colleagues all day.
9. I am now in a commissioned position, but still don’t know what my metrics are.
10. Today, I received an EMAIL stating that all U.S. employees will be taking a 2.5% pay cut. An EMAIL, people.

I could have easily made this a top 12, or top 15. The last thing I’ll say is that if ONE more person tells me that I’m lucky to have a job, SOMEBODY is getting bitch-slapped.

Update Schupdate

Crazy couple of weeks it’s been, which is why it’s been dead on the blog. I know, I know…borrringgg!

So, I started going back to the office two weeks ago to start working in my new role for my employer. Apparently, after almost three years of working from my home office, my immune system approximates that of a newborn kitten, and I got dreadfully sick with a fever within 4 days. Fabulous!

In other work-related news, I was actually pretty lucky to have been selected to take a training class that is the industry standard for my profession, and I’ve been able to get THE certification that goes along with it, which is cool. No sooner than I completed this hurdle, I was offered a promotion, making the skills and certification pretty much inapplicable to the OTHER new role I start tomorrow. Hell, at least I don’t have to go shopping again, right?

Enough about work, if for no other reason than I’m boring myself to death. I know what you want is confessions, and I have one.

I’ve been doing some outside writing. Outside the blog, that is.

Now, before you feel betrayed, I’ve been doing this writing on my breaks at work, and I can’t use my company network to get on the blogs, so I guess if I weren’t doing this writing, I’d have to take up crack or something to occupy myself in my downtime. What I’m doing is compiling some of my favorite funny experiences and character sketches. I’m not sure exactly what I’m doing this for, but it is an interesting exercise since I’m trying to distill the people and experiences into as few words as possible.

What else? Hmmm…well, Garrett and I actually have plans for Valentine’s Day, which may actually be a first. We normally don’t support what’s basically a greeting-card holiday, but it happens that we had a chance to go see the Dames Aflame show Showbiz What Sizzles this year. Like I always say, “Nothing says ‘I Love You’ like a burlesque revue.”. Ok, I never really say that, but I’m saying it now.

Speaking of Garrett, he’s still a superstar, and he’s really made tons of progress this weekend on the exterior front stairs. Yay!

On another note (and I almost forgot to add this), the weather has been FANTASTIC here, and I took advantage of the weather yesterday and took a little walk, during which my neighbor Mark informed me that yesterday was his 42nd birthday. His only disappointment, he said, was that he didn’t get his birthday spanking, whereupon he turned his little tush in my direction. So I did what anyone would have done; I spanked his booty right there on the sidewalk. I’m sure it wasn’t inappropriate because Mark likes boys. I know…I’m a good neighbor!

Anyway, that’s about it for now. I hope someone is still there to read this, and I’ll try to do better keeping this up in spite of my occupational incarceration.

Sunday Shopping

Today dawned with an awful realization. Beginning tomorrow, I have to start working from an office again, and that can only mean one thing: business casual.

Business casual is distinctly different from work-from-home casual, in many unfortunate ways. Business casual requires the all-day-long wearing of a real bra. Business casual forbids one from wearing T-Shirts emblazoned with slogans such as "REAL TITS" and "I'm a MILF". Lastly, business casual does not permit the wearing of pajama pants advertising Dr. Pepper or Guinness until noon, then switching over to jeans.

There was only one option for me today. I had to go shopping, and I had to buy stuff. This is really not how I wanted to spend my day, and I'd already penciled in the field trials for my Sunday amusement. But no, I had to go attempt to cobble together a work-appropriate wardrobe that wouldn't make me look like a hoochie or a Golden Girl, but something in-between.

I won't bore you with the details, but suffice it to say that I found enough mediocre crap to upholster myself for the next four business days, and thankfully, Friday is casual day, so I'm set for that. Although it's not really possible that this Friday will be anywhere near as casual as the many Fridays that preceded it. In any case, there's more shopping ahead in the coming days, a prospect I'm regarding with the sort of dread usually reserved for root canals and anal surgeries.

In other news, G spent the better part of this morning working on his brick-laying project, and made some visible progress. More disturbingly, he is now removing the ceiling from my former office to run cable for the purpose of re-wiring the downstairs television. My mantra that keeps me from going nuts during such initiatives is, "At least he doesn't chase women and gamble.", I just wish he'd take up cooking as a hobby instead of tearing the house apart at random intervals.

Serenity now. Serenity now. Serenity now.

Creative Mortgage Financing

Well, folks, the time has come for me to throw my mortgage company under the proverbial bus. I'd hoped it wouldn't come to this.

You see, I have my mortgage through Countrywide, and every month on the first, I send them a payment. Everyone is on the same page, and everyone's satisfied with the arrangement. Pretty simple, right?

You'd think it would also be self-explanatory that when the trophy shop completes an order for Countrywide Mortgage, that we'd get paid. On time. In full. Without incident.

Now, if I had declined to pay my mortgage since May of 2008, I'm confident that right now I'd be out on my ass wearing a barrel on suspenders in lieu of legitimate housing. Frankly, I'm miffed that Countrywide has failed to pay the $94.80 that is now 200+ days past due, and I'm considering my options.

Here's my idea: I'm considering calling Countrywide customer service and explaining to them that I'm going to be paying $94.80 less on my February mortgage payment. I'd offer to fax them the ancient invoice, and politely tell them that I'm even willing to waive the late fee.

Where the hell is a video camera when you need one? Wouldn't that be a great YouTube video?

The Day After

Well, it’s the day after Christmas, and I’m reasonably sure that I’m the only person in the universe (or the corporate world, which is one of the planets I live on) who’s working today. As proof, I submit the fact that I’ve received three emails in my work inbox: One from Dell, offering special deals on laptops, another from Expedia, offering special deals on travel, and the last was a forwarded joke from a relative. Oh yeah, my company is hopping today.

Anyway, as I mentioned in the previous post, I’m working on knocking out some of my end-of-year objectives, one of which is writing a user manual for a proprietary software system. Forgive me if this doesn’t bring the juices of my passions to a boil. I’m barely managing a simmer over here. Very Barely.

See what this does for you:

To add an evaluation to the profile, navigate to the Evaluations section by either scrolling down, or select “Change View” from the right navigation bar. Once you click “Add Evaluation”, the form will launch, allowing you to document the activity completely and in compliance with best practices.

Oh yeah, this one is a real page-turner. Honestly, I’m thinking of navigating over to Gilly’s, scrolling on over to the pool table, and clicking some billiards with a pool cue.

Confessions of a Trophy Wife

Oh, that is a good title, isn't it? I fear the rest of the post will be less provocative, but please do forge ahead with the reading. After all, how boring could it possibly be?

DON'T ANSWER THAT!

Anyway, I'm not a trophy wife because I'm a six foot Brazilian bikini model; I'm a trophy wife because my husband operates the family business, which is a trophy store. I like being married, so my duties with the business are limited to the province of the facetiously entitled V.P. of HR. What this means is that I'm involved whenever there is an employee issue, or in the event of hiring or firing, and I attend the annual Holiday luncheon.

Now that you better understand my role, here are my confessions.

#1. I dread that holiday luncheon all year. Social skills are not a huge part of the trophy manufacture process, and this is always a two hour showcase of that very fact. Since we had the luncheon today, that's approximately 364 days I have to enjoy before the next one. Yay!

#2. Sorry job applicants...I laugh at your resumes. I have some special resume and cover letter tips that I'll share here.

• If you have a rose in the header AND footer of your resume, you'd better be applying for a job at a nail salon.
• If your cover letter bears the phrase, "I focus on customer delight", you need to know that it's not that kind of job. Look in the Yellow Pages under "Escort Services".
• If your introductory paragraph on either of these documents includes the phrase, "Strong attention to derail", please understand that using spell check doesn't catch every error, and it doesn't qualify as fastidiousness.

#3. The real shocker: I have fake trophies. I have two of them, to be exact, but I suppose I could have as many as I want. One of them is a beautiful acrylic emblazoned with the following:

Addie

State of Georgia

Mud Wrestling Champion

Undefeated 2001-2006

I used to have that one on my desk when I worked in the office, and people always thought it was true, and I'd explain that being shorter was a big advantage because of my low center of gravity, and I'd otherwise b.s. endlessly until I made myself laugh.

The most prestigious award I have was actually built by the boys for Mother's Day. It's a wooden three-post trophy with the figure of a lady holding a bouquet of roses atop a large, glistening cup ornament.

The inscription reads:

World's Best Mom

Ever

I love being a trophy wife.

My Co-Workers

One of the distinct perks of the virtual office is the ability to choose your own office mates, rather than having that decision made by some uncaring, remote hiring authority. My colleagues don't gossip by the water cooler, stink the place up by microwaving garlic-laden frozen entrees, or steal my pens. I submit this picture as proof of their impeccable professional behavior in the office.

The guest bed is behind my computer desk in my office, and this is how Bruno & Hoover pass the time while I'm working. Note that a collar is all that's required to be in compliance with my business casual dress code. For the dogs, that is.

Cell Phone Sabbath

Maybe I'm the only person who feels this way, but I suspect I'm not. My cell phone drives me crazy.

Not because I don't want to talk to my friends and family, because that's not the case. It's just that the damn thing rings incessantly. Sure, it's convenient to be able to call home from the grocery store and find out whether or not we're out of sour cream, but is it really necessary to be so in touch all the time?

I suspect this is just some kind of masochistic digital-age addiction, and I intend to find out. I've turned my phone off as of sundown yesterday, and I'm leaving it off until 8:00am Monday. For crying out loud, I'm a corporate trainer, not a brain surgeon who needs to be on call. I can be out of touch for36 hours or so.

At least I think I can.

Art Appreciation

You certainly don't have to be an art afficionado to appreciate Edvard Munch's The Scream. Painted in 1893, there are several versions Munch created, including a lithograph.

In his diary, Munch described his inspiration for these works:

"I was walking along a path with two friends—the sun was setting—suddenly the sky turned blood red—I paused, feeling exhausted, and leaned on the fence—there was blood and tongues of fire above the blue-black fjord and the city—my friends walked on, and I stood there trembling with anxiety—and I sensed an infinite scream passing through nature."

Of course you don't have to love art to relate to this picture. If your job is sucking the life out of you and you're strongly considering running over your laptop with your car, dropping your cell phone in the toilet and faking your own death, you can probably appreciate this just fine.