A conversation with a friend.

2005-07-23 at 9:01 p.m.

I walked in the front door yesterday after work... and the first thing I said (aloud to my empty house) was "What a fucking day." Really. Wow. First... Conversation with the 'rish: TX SpookyPants: So, how goes it with you? waztukin: I'm an idiot. waztukin: who isn't well liked waztukin: yesterday, I thought I worked at 8 TX SpookyPants: Tsk! Says who! waztukin: so I got to work, and clocked in at eight. waztukin: (I say the idiot part, other people don't like me...) TX SpookyPants: sonofabitches. Do I need to kick in knees? Hehe. waztukin: I get to the breakroom, and the manager says "Uhh. You're not here until noon." Noon? I say. Noon. She says. waztukin: Except, everytime she said Noon and I said noon, in my head I heard ten TX SpookyPants: Huh. waztukin: so i went home, played simcity, then got back to work at ten waztukin: when I clocked in again. waztukin: and looked at my schedule and said "Huh? I'm not here until noon? But she said ten.. I said ten. She said ten??" waztukin: So i clocked back out and hid in cafe until noon. waztukin: that's why I'm an idiot. waztukin: I heard from someone that a person I work with (lets call her Borg) had been saying mean things about me when I'm not there, or not near her... etc waztukin: that I'm a shity lead (not true), that I never do my strays (a laugh coming from the person Borg was talking to), and my section always looks like crap (not true, unless Borg recovers it). waztukin: and that I have greasy hair waztukin: which can be true waztukin: but I don't see the point my hair funk has on work related matters waztukin: so, I talked today with the store manager about Borg's unprofessional behavior. waztukin: And I found out that Borg had been in trouble for this offence before. waztukin: -- this exact offence-- TX SpookyPants: Oooh, damn. Bitch! waztukin: as in... she's been talking about me, specifically, and my section and my hair, before. waztukin: and been warned to stop waztukin: I know. TX SpookyPants: Oooooooooh. waztukin: whata bitch THEN I hear about the rat. As in, in our cafe there was a rat decaying for a week before someone worked over there and got grossed out enough to get someone on rat removal. Then someone felt the need to tell me that "oh, they got most of it out." Uggghhhh. So I told someone else this (because I'm sick like that and I wanted to see him flinch like a girl.) and the guy retaliates with a story about one day he went around all day thinking he had a bit of loose leather in the toe of his shoe but when he got home he found out it was a tree roach. Lemme take a quick moment to explain. In texas, we do get your normal, everyday, gross roach that happens in dirty kitchens (and some clean kitchens) but we also get roaches the size of a credit card that come in. They like to hang out on trees until it gets too hot, or too dry, and then they trot right into your air conditioned home of their own free will... Or if you have cats like me, they get carried in and then forgotten by the most ADHD creatures on the planet. So he tells me this. ANd my skin is CRAWLING. So, gross... Ugh. Moving on. I finally, FINALLY make it home at 8:30. Someone I had made plans with bails on me. In fact, now, 48 hours later, i still haven't heard from her. But that's okay. I get to my house, and HALF my neighbors tree is hanging in my driveway. Its held up from the ground by the roof to my house. And its thundering and lightening and slapped right there on the roof. Just to piss me off. And then I go inside, say "what a fucking day" to my empty house. I go to pick up my black pants i left on the bedroom floor the other day, and I shake them out, and what I think is a peice of paper goes flying onto the bed. Where I watch a tree roach skamper off, shocked from its hiding place in my pants to beneath the bed. Uh. I'm getting chills thinking about it again. Ugggh.. All in all, it was rattastic.

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