Last Sunday we had a store meeting. It was lamer than lame and mostly served to remind me that I'd had much more fun at other store meetings. Namely, at Howell with the Dread Pirate Roberts, Jason, Ruth, Ashley, Ray...there was lots of sniggering...poking, inappropriate comments and laughing. I'd had better boring store meetings even at New Hudson, in particular the one where Pam used a counting device to discover that the Spurminator said MMMMkay...over 200 times during the meeting...there was lots of snickering and laughter then, too. All in all, it was a dreadful waste of time and I'm not sure why we even had a meeting.
My biggest adventure this week has been Mystery Rash. Stupid, itchy bumps that appear, disappear and reappear and spread...and when scratched with much bliss...(there is actually nothing as pleasant as scratching an itch) become larger and more itchy (of course). There is rash on my scalp, under my arms, on my sides, my back, in between my fingers, the only actual place where I haven't discovered a rash this week is on the stinky bits. Even the palms of my hands!
I haven't used any different detergent, soap, lotion, nothing.
I, as far as I know, haven't been exposed to anything containing penicillin (which when I had strep throat was given as the antidote and made me have horrible itchy spreading hives...and so I learned I am allergic to penicillin). But this does act like the penicillin itch.
The last antibiotic the cat was on was tetracycline, so its not that. She was on a form of penicillin two months or so ago but I exhibited no symptoms while administering that to her, but I was very careful to not touch it or if I couldn't avoid it due to beastly cat, I was very careful to immediately wash my hand or whatever had gotten exposed.
The only thing I did different was eat hot dogs. I usually don't eat them, but as we had been given a vast amount of hot dogs and had had a BBQ last weekend, I ate them. With GOBS of mustard to help hide the flavor.
I suppose I could have a hot dog allergy...or more, realistically, a preservative allergy.
My cousin also suggests I could have somehow come in contact with penicillin mold. Possible. Weird, but possible. Who knows what I come into contact with on a daily basis at work, really. I am always dirty, sweaty and in contact with numerous dirty things like lawn mower batteries, tires, feed sacks (including sometimes ones that have mold, though I wouldn't think it would be penicillin mold), lime, and various unidentifiable yucks on the insides of semi trailers.
Mystery Rash sucks.
That is unchallengable.
Mystery Rash is also miserable while sweating heavily and it is hot out.
It is miserable when not sweating.
GO AWAY, Mystery Rash!
Saturday, August 24, 2013
Saturday, August 17, 2013
Another Week in the Life
My first week at work after being on vacation for two weeks was, as expected, rough. It took hours on Monday just to figure out what was even happening with the paperwork. It was all so confused. My "replacement" had not been trained whatsoever so I can't be angry with her as she called me several times to ask questions. I am, however, disappointed with my supposed superiors in not considering that she hadn't the faintest idea what to do and had scheduled her with no one who had the knowledge she was lacking.
Jon has been battling depression. I can understand why. It's just difficult to deal with. He was supposed to have a guy from work come over today and help him drop his oil pan so he can clean the sludge out of it and put in a new oil pan and rear main seal but, of course, the guy flaked out on him without even so much as a phone call. So he's bought all the parts and we moved (pushed) cars around in the driveway (lucky for him I have lots of experience manually pushing around a ton or more of feed pallets) because it came in handy today, being strong like bull. He's now gone off to somewhere to get a manual...I think...with the cash he was supposed to have paid the guy who flaked out on us. So he hasn't actually gotten started yet.
Tomorrow I have a store meeting (just the place I want to go on a day off) but only have to be there for an hour. I traded hours with Crystal so I wouldn't have to work alllll day on a weekend. I usually don't work weekends...and if I miss a weekday I end up so far behind I can't dig my way out. Plus I won't have to deal with phones, customers or moving things...I can just sit there and listen to the manager say "BLAH BLAH BLAH..." This manager doesn't say "mmmkay?" all the time, and I've never been to one of his meetings so we shall see how it goes.
We had a very short notice barbeque last night. It was okay with a very small turnout. But was still fun. Levon pretty much did all the work and bought all the things. But, he was on vacation this week and wanted to have a barbeque, so we did. So its our turn next time to buy all the things. Levon, I think is...a month or more sober. Good for him. I'm proud of him, really. He'd stopped drinking in the heat and found himself passing out at work from the DTs. Yep. That bad. So bad he even went to a doctor to get help detoxing. He's stuck to it. He's not even all weird about people drinking in front of him. He says its just something he's going to have to learn to tolerate so just go on ahead and drink.
Dave showed up for a short time and was his usual, nice, quiet self. He said his work had been talking of promoting him to assistant manager...but he hates his job so I don't know if that is a good thing or a bad thing.
I have been reading and reading and reading. Although today I did do laundry, and the usual lame household chore type stuff...like wiping the dog spittle off the insides of the windows. I really really wish Emma would stop foaming at the mouth every time a mail man or some random person walks by the house. It's actually pretty damn gross because dog spittle is slimy and I have to wet the slime to wash the windows, reanimating the slime.....and smearing it around with lots of dish soap before it comes clean.
I don't remember a summer with as much nice, comfortable weather as this one or as much rain when needed. My grass is still green and not brown, crunchy, and just plain dust like last year. Weird. Even in other less dry summers the grass still seemed to turn brown.
I am not looking forward to receiving in winter, however. The cold and the snow really really suck when riding a forklift. I learned enough about that this spring to dread it.
Jon has been battling depression. I can understand why. It's just difficult to deal with. He was supposed to have a guy from work come over today and help him drop his oil pan so he can clean the sludge out of it and put in a new oil pan and rear main seal but, of course, the guy flaked out on him without even so much as a phone call. So he's bought all the parts and we moved (pushed) cars around in the driveway (lucky for him I have lots of experience manually pushing around a ton or more of feed pallets) because it came in handy today, being strong like bull. He's now gone off to somewhere to get a manual...I think...with the cash he was supposed to have paid the guy who flaked out on us. So he hasn't actually gotten started yet.
Tomorrow I have a store meeting (just the place I want to go on a day off) but only have to be there for an hour. I traded hours with Crystal so I wouldn't have to work alllll day on a weekend. I usually don't work weekends...and if I miss a weekday I end up so far behind I can't dig my way out. Plus I won't have to deal with phones, customers or moving things...I can just sit there and listen to the manager say "BLAH BLAH BLAH..." This manager doesn't say "mmmkay?" all the time, and I've never been to one of his meetings so we shall see how it goes.
We had a very short notice barbeque last night. It was okay with a very small turnout. But was still fun. Levon pretty much did all the work and bought all the things. But, he was on vacation this week and wanted to have a barbeque, so we did. So its our turn next time to buy all the things. Levon, I think is...a month or more sober. Good for him. I'm proud of him, really. He'd stopped drinking in the heat and found himself passing out at work from the DTs. Yep. That bad. So bad he even went to a doctor to get help detoxing. He's stuck to it. He's not even all weird about people drinking in front of him. He says its just something he's going to have to learn to tolerate so just go on ahead and drink.
Dave showed up for a short time and was his usual, nice, quiet self. He said his work had been talking of promoting him to assistant manager...but he hates his job so I don't know if that is a good thing or a bad thing.
I have been reading and reading and reading. Although today I did do laundry, and the usual lame household chore type stuff...like wiping the dog spittle off the insides of the windows. I really really wish Emma would stop foaming at the mouth every time a mail man or some random person walks by the house. It's actually pretty damn gross because dog spittle is slimy and I have to wet the slime to wash the windows, reanimating the slime.....and smearing it around with lots of dish soap before it comes clean.
I don't remember a summer with as much nice, comfortable weather as this one or as much rain when needed. My grass is still green and not brown, crunchy, and just plain dust like last year. Weird. Even in other less dry summers the grass still seemed to turn brown.
I am not looking forward to receiving in winter, however. The cold and the snow really really suck when riding a forklift. I learned enough about that this spring to dread it.
Wednesday, August 7, 2013
Fried Green Tomatoes
Started reading the book Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistlestop Cafe and was surprised I'd forgotten I'd read the book.
How weird is that?
Once I saw the page layout and began reading, I remembered having read it one summer while at my Grandma's trailer; possibly while I was still in high school, or even junior high.
What I'd love to be able to remember was how my Grandma came across it. She didn't go to the library and she didn't read much other than her sewing/crocheting books, Reader's Digest, and the local newspaper. I'm wondering if one of her friends had given it to her or allowed her to borrow it. I really don't know. I only vaguely even remember reading the book back then.
Of course, I would have read it at the very least 17 years ago...and I'm thinking I could have read it as long ago as 20 years ago. I was a wholly different person back then and it seems like a lifetime ago...and while I am getting older...its still a few years shy of double my own life span thus far.
Memory is a funny thing.
I can remember, with clarity, reading The Time Machine by H.G. Wells at the age of 9 (abridged, children's version) but I can't remember clearly reading Fried Green Tomatoes. I vaguely recall the where...and the general age...but I just had no clear memory of reading it.
I guess I'd better get used to flaky memory...I'm definitely not getting any younger.
How weird is that?
Once I saw the page layout and began reading, I remembered having read it one summer while at my Grandma's trailer; possibly while I was still in high school, or even junior high.
What I'd love to be able to remember was how my Grandma came across it. She didn't go to the library and she didn't read much other than her sewing/crocheting books, Reader's Digest, and the local newspaper. I'm wondering if one of her friends had given it to her or allowed her to borrow it. I really don't know. I only vaguely even remember reading the book back then.
Of course, I would have read it at the very least 17 years ago...and I'm thinking I could have read it as long ago as 20 years ago. I was a wholly different person back then and it seems like a lifetime ago...and while I am getting older...its still a few years shy of double my own life span thus far.
Memory is a funny thing.
I can remember, with clarity, reading The Time Machine by H.G. Wells at the age of 9 (abridged, children's version) but I can't remember clearly reading Fried Green Tomatoes. I vaguely recall the where...and the general age...but I just had no clear memory of reading it.
I guess I'd better get used to flaky memory...I'm definitely not getting any younger.
Monday, August 5, 2013
Vacation
Had a nice visit with the folks. Quite nice waking up in my old bedroom (changed though it is) when I felt like it (or the sun or the dogs woke me instead of an alarm clock).
We didn't do too much, being fairly broke. Bought some wine, some cheese and some food.
Jon cooked a few meals for my parents and everyone seemed to have a good time.
Dad seemed to like having company for a change. He spends too much of his time on his own, I think, while Mom is at work ten hours a day. I am glad he has kitty friends and our old pal Bean. We went a few places with him, an antique store, small things like that. Our favorite Antique Mall has since gone out of business...sadly, the place was huge and had so many things to see.
I took my Kindle along and read a couple books and began reading Wuthering Heights. While reading it, I keep thinking, wow, it must be nice to be just at home and somehow taken care of all the time. Apparently this makes you more likely to become mad but better a raving lunatic at home with loads of money....but I guess being at home with all your meals, cleaning and laundry taken care of leaves an excess of time for obsession. Perhaps that is why teenagers act so abominably...well, other than the hormones...
Jon took his PS3 along, and the tv (yep he did) because he really just wanted to loaf about and play video games all week. The PS3 broke two days in....and once we got back he researched it on the internet (my parents don't have internet) and found it is the red light of death or some such which just means a thing came loose inside it so it won't work. So it needs fixing....of course Sony will fix it for $150 and will return you a PS3 (not the one you sent in at all, not even the same STYLE PS3)...so he doesn't like the sound of it because he's taken really good care of his. Other option is to pay $75 at a game shop (Sony doesn't approve of this at all and will refuse to work on PS3's that are not opened by them, of course) but then you will have your original system. So I think Jon will do that eventually. There are more pressing matters currently.
The Jeep title did finally come...the tags are now expired, and the dealership OVERNIGHTED the title to our house...it cost them $20 to do this...so it makes me think they totally fucked up. So we have to retitle and plate it and fix it still, of course.
I woke up to a staple gun this morning. The neighbors behind us seem to be having a garage or shed reshingled. Kind of annoying. The only annoying noise at my parent's house while sleeping with windows open was a few really vocal birds that seem to have lodged near the bedroom window.
Moose kitty is so happy to see me she's barely left my side. I missed her, too.
I got to become more acquainted with my parent's kitties than previously as dad had locked them up in the basement so the dogs wouldn't chase them. The Spooky kitty acts loads like Moose. I like him, he's temperamental, loving and kind of vain about his fluffy hair. Slick, now, he's huge, loveable and less vain, but just as nice a cat.
Bean is doing worse and worse, of course, as old dogs rarely get more well. His will is strong. He wanted to walk and walk and do all kinds of things his body didn't want to allow. We had to physically restrain him from following my dogs on their rather longer route as he just couldn't do it. His front end is starting to stumble now...as before it was only his back end. Poor old friend. I don't know what my parents will do without him. He is going to leave an enormous hole. They are so patient with him. Taking him for walks takes nearly an hour even though they merely walk him around the woods behind our house. He stops, pants hard and lies down. But, every morning, without fail, he WANTS to go.
Sometimes, I think I could just go back home and never return here. But my parents do get on my nerves after a bit, just as they always did no matter how I love them. That's a fairytale anyway, I'm not independently wealthy, damn it.
This week I am off, just hanging about. Doing whatever. Jon is at work so I have no car, not that I'd go any place but Ruth's any way, and I've invited her here.
I wish I didn't have to go back to work next week as I'm sure it will be a wreck.
We didn't do too much, being fairly broke. Bought some wine, some cheese and some food.
Jon cooked a few meals for my parents and everyone seemed to have a good time.
Dad seemed to like having company for a change. He spends too much of his time on his own, I think, while Mom is at work ten hours a day. I am glad he has kitty friends and our old pal Bean. We went a few places with him, an antique store, small things like that. Our favorite Antique Mall has since gone out of business...sadly, the place was huge and had so many things to see.
I took my Kindle along and read a couple books and began reading Wuthering Heights. While reading it, I keep thinking, wow, it must be nice to be just at home and somehow taken care of all the time. Apparently this makes you more likely to become mad but better a raving lunatic at home with loads of money....but I guess being at home with all your meals, cleaning and laundry taken care of leaves an excess of time for obsession. Perhaps that is why teenagers act so abominably...well, other than the hormones...
Jon took his PS3 along, and the tv (yep he did) because he really just wanted to loaf about and play video games all week. The PS3 broke two days in....and once we got back he researched it on the internet (my parents don't have internet) and found it is the red light of death or some such which just means a thing came loose inside it so it won't work. So it needs fixing....of course Sony will fix it for $150 and will return you a PS3 (not the one you sent in at all, not even the same STYLE PS3)...so he doesn't like the sound of it because he's taken really good care of his. Other option is to pay $75 at a game shop (Sony doesn't approve of this at all and will refuse to work on PS3's that are not opened by them, of course) but then you will have your original system. So I think Jon will do that eventually. There are more pressing matters currently.
The Jeep title did finally come...the tags are now expired, and the dealership OVERNIGHTED the title to our house...it cost them $20 to do this...so it makes me think they totally fucked up. So we have to retitle and plate it and fix it still, of course.
I woke up to a staple gun this morning. The neighbors behind us seem to be having a garage or shed reshingled. Kind of annoying. The only annoying noise at my parent's house while sleeping with windows open was a few really vocal birds that seem to have lodged near the bedroom window.
Moose kitty is so happy to see me she's barely left my side. I missed her, too.
I got to become more acquainted with my parent's kitties than previously as dad had locked them up in the basement so the dogs wouldn't chase them. The Spooky kitty acts loads like Moose. I like him, he's temperamental, loving and kind of vain about his fluffy hair. Slick, now, he's huge, loveable and less vain, but just as nice a cat.
Bean is doing worse and worse, of course, as old dogs rarely get more well. His will is strong. He wanted to walk and walk and do all kinds of things his body didn't want to allow. We had to physically restrain him from following my dogs on their rather longer route as he just couldn't do it. His front end is starting to stumble now...as before it was only his back end. Poor old friend. I don't know what my parents will do without him. He is going to leave an enormous hole. They are so patient with him. Taking him for walks takes nearly an hour even though they merely walk him around the woods behind our house. He stops, pants hard and lies down. But, every morning, without fail, he WANTS to go.
Sometimes, I think I could just go back home and never return here. But my parents do get on my nerves after a bit, just as they always did no matter how I love them. That's a fairytale anyway, I'm not independently wealthy, damn it.
This week I am off, just hanging about. Doing whatever. Jon is at work so I have no car, not that I'd go any place but Ruth's any way, and I've invited her here.
I wish I didn't have to go back to work next week as I'm sure it will be a wreck.
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
Stupid Mind
Woke up at 1 am. For no apparent reason.
Now my mind won't shut off.
Of course.
Thinking of dumb shit that makes no sense to worry about such as:
I have a Purina PO on my INRs...that has been there since April...and I never got this feed order. Have emailed and faxed various and sundry people to no avail. Bothers me, obviously. Does no good to worry about it.
The title for Jon's Jeep has never arrived and his temporary tags are near their expiration. Since I don't have a title and it was bought from an out of state dealership....how do we go about plating/registering it? I would think since we paid dealership fees to do so...it would be on their end (except for the plates) but I don't know. The Secretary of State's website is unhelpful. The Secretary of State has very limited hours and if I work, or Jon does, it makes it very impossible to get there before they close so merits time off work to take care of shit, which is ridiculous (one of the things I hate about having regular day hours). Again, why worry? We haven't driven it in ages because of another issue.
Jon's "new" Jeep gets anywhere from 10-20 pounds of oil pressure (wayyyyy too low) and we need to take apart oil pan/replace oil pump, and perhaps rear main seal (this will hopefully fix it) but what if it doesn't? What if its just knackered? I guess we drive it until it explodes and think about replacing the engine.
What if those creepy guys who came and looked at the Sunfire come back? They got the key to turn, and they know how to replace steering columns, apparently. It's not my car. Shane said "Sell it to them."..but the guys didn't want to pay our asking price of $300 which is entirely still reasonable for a running car that needs a new ignition switch, muffler (or more of the exhaust) and the bumper situation figured out.
Today is Jon's birthday. I didn't get him anything. Why? Because he was supposed to make me a list of possible wants (he wants so many things I find it hard to keep track and am horrible at remembering names of video games) and he never did. Also, I don't really have lots of cash on hand at the moment since I get paid this Friday...meaning pretty much broke. I feel bad about this. He got me something I really wanted for mine and I love it. I guess I don't have tons of things that I want that are practical and are affordable so it was easy for him to remember what it was I wanted.
Jon's boss is giving him grief (as always) and a write up for missing work last Friday and not calling. He fell asleep on the kitchen floor because our house was incredibly hot due to no electricity, didn't hear his alarm or his dad calling when he came to pick him up. (I am able to take/pick him up Mon-Wed...but Thurs and Fri can only pick him up.) The VP and President of the company were okay with him missing work (he talked to both of them and apologized for missing) then this douche bag foreman tells Jon that Hanaway (the President) took it "personally that you missed work with no notice." Umm...sure...that guy must have hurt feelings a LOT if he takes it personally that people miss work. And, after being written up, the foreman asks Jon where that piece of paper is that he was given. Jon told him he threw it away. The foreman wanted to CHANGE INFO on the PAPER after the fact! What? Also, Jon found out that punishment for being written up three times for the same infraction is an unpaid day off....wow...so yeah, they are really worried about him missing work without notice. At my work, you are FIRED for three no call/no shows. FIRED. No write ups. No anything. Just BAM! FIRED! Also, Jon works with a known heroin addict and a guy who is always sloshed at work and drinks WHILE at work....ummm...yeah...does the company also take that personally? The foreman is clearly on a power trip. Jon isn't the only person who has issues with him, but he's the one the foreman has taken a distinct dislike to.
Also, what do I do if my cat isn't out of antibiotics by Friday? Which is when we are leaving for Ohio (or maybe Saturday, depends, really on how we feel). Do I really think my mother in law can handle medicating said vicious patient? No. What do I do if cat's snotty gross nose doesn't go away even after the full course of antibiotics (this is round 3 and she is 15 and thin, too thin at the moment)? I have been buying her special kitty-fattening (meaning canned food) to entice her to eat more. Last vet visit she weighed 8 lbs...down from 10...that's a lot of weight for a cat to lose. She loves this. Do I think my mother in law is going to be able to handle feeding fluffy cat canned food AND medication...and putting out separate dry food for the FAT kitty? No. Who else could do this? Ruth could. But Ruth is going to the UP to see her family...so who else? Shane? No. Shane is currently already working 2 jobs and has no time for anything. Levon? Don't know. He's a drunk. He's also kicked out of his house because he's an atheist and is living out of different people's houses/his car. Mother in law then....with lots of instructions, I suppose. Don't know if she's ever medicated a cat before. It's not for the weak hearted. Jon is miserable at even just holding the cat in a towel for me so I actually find it easier to hold down the cat and squirt the shit down her throat myself. Sure, I get clawed once in a while, but he's so horrible at holding her I actually get injured less without him. Wish I could drop her off somewhere but I don't know that many people. I also don't want to stress her out while her body is already stressed and trying to heal, so taking her along to my parent's house really is out of the question...5 hour drive...two dogs...then being locked up while somewhere new.
Jon broke his phone. On purpose again. This pisses me off. Why? Because he was having a bad day, arguing with me over something valid, but that we were working on resolving and someone was blowing up his phone with texts and calls. Constantly. Like every minute or two. Which would piss me off as well but I'd just turn off the phone or tell them to fucking quit bugging me and I'll call them when I feel like it. So now instead of just calling him and asking if he needs a ride to work, I first have to come home to see if he's home then back track if he's not. Annoying. Time consuming. Ridiculous. Although, to his credit, he did call and let me know yesterday from his dad's phone...I just fucking didn't check my messages in time because I have to turn my ringer off at work so I never think about checking the phone later. My fault and one of Jon's pet peeves with me. It is nice not having Jon's phone ring a zillion times a night, though. Peaceful. But, of course he now doesn't have any phone numbers again and will have to run around to find out things...which is hard on the gas money. If gas was cheaper it would bug me less.
And none of these things are things I can seemingly do anything about...which is why, I suppose I am awake thinking about them instead of sleeping. I'm a do it and get it over with person. Not a we'll see person. Which makes me a little annoyed at Jon for letting this dropping of the oil pan/replacing oil pump thing drag on. I do understand though. He's worried he won't be able to do it himself. So if he doesn't want to do it himself we need to save up some cash to pay to have it done. Which we are saving up some cash...for something anyway, just accumulates quite slowly.
Now my mind won't shut off.
Of course.
Thinking of dumb shit that makes no sense to worry about such as:
I have a Purina PO on my INRs...that has been there since April...and I never got this feed order. Have emailed and faxed various and sundry people to no avail. Bothers me, obviously. Does no good to worry about it.
The title for Jon's Jeep has never arrived and his temporary tags are near their expiration. Since I don't have a title and it was bought from an out of state dealership....how do we go about plating/registering it? I would think since we paid dealership fees to do so...it would be on their end (except for the plates) but I don't know. The Secretary of State's website is unhelpful. The Secretary of State has very limited hours and if I work, or Jon does, it makes it very impossible to get there before they close so merits time off work to take care of shit, which is ridiculous (one of the things I hate about having regular day hours). Again, why worry? We haven't driven it in ages because of another issue.
Jon's "new" Jeep gets anywhere from 10-20 pounds of oil pressure (wayyyyy too low) and we need to take apart oil pan/replace oil pump, and perhaps rear main seal (this will hopefully fix it) but what if it doesn't? What if its just knackered? I guess we drive it until it explodes and think about replacing the engine.
What if those creepy guys who came and looked at the Sunfire come back? They got the key to turn, and they know how to replace steering columns, apparently. It's not my car. Shane said "Sell it to them."..but the guys didn't want to pay our asking price of $300 which is entirely still reasonable for a running car that needs a new ignition switch, muffler (or more of the exhaust) and the bumper situation figured out.
Today is Jon's birthday. I didn't get him anything. Why? Because he was supposed to make me a list of possible wants (he wants so many things I find it hard to keep track and am horrible at remembering names of video games) and he never did. Also, I don't really have lots of cash on hand at the moment since I get paid this Friday...meaning pretty much broke. I feel bad about this. He got me something I really wanted for mine and I love it. I guess I don't have tons of things that I want that are practical and are affordable so it was easy for him to remember what it was I wanted.
Jon's boss is giving him grief (as always) and a write up for missing work last Friday and not calling. He fell asleep on the kitchen floor because our house was incredibly hot due to no electricity, didn't hear his alarm or his dad calling when he came to pick him up. (I am able to take/pick him up Mon-Wed...but Thurs and Fri can only pick him up.) The VP and President of the company were okay with him missing work (he talked to both of them and apologized for missing) then this douche bag foreman tells Jon that Hanaway (the President) took it "personally that you missed work with no notice." Umm...sure...that guy must have hurt feelings a LOT if he takes it personally that people miss work. And, after being written up, the foreman asks Jon where that piece of paper is that he was given. Jon told him he threw it away. The foreman wanted to CHANGE INFO on the PAPER after the fact! What? Also, Jon found out that punishment for being written up three times for the same infraction is an unpaid day off....wow...so yeah, they are really worried about him missing work without notice. At my work, you are FIRED for three no call/no shows. FIRED. No write ups. No anything. Just BAM! FIRED! Also, Jon works with a known heroin addict and a guy who is always sloshed at work and drinks WHILE at work....ummm...yeah...does the company also take that personally? The foreman is clearly on a power trip. Jon isn't the only person who has issues with him, but he's the one the foreman has taken a distinct dislike to.
Also, what do I do if my cat isn't out of antibiotics by Friday? Which is when we are leaving for Ohio (or maybe Saturday, depends, really on how we feel). Do I really think my mother in law can handle medicating said vicious patient? No. What do I do if cat's snotty gross nose doesn't go away even after the full course of antibiotics (this is round 3 and she is 15 and thin, too thin at the moment)? I have been buying her special kitty-fattening (meaning canned food) to entice her to eat more. Last vet visit she weighed 8 lbs...down from 10...that's a lot of weight for a cat to lose. She loves this. Do I think my mother in law is going to be able to handle feeding fluffy cat canned food AND medication...and putting out separate dry food for the FAT kitty? No. Who else could do this? Ruth could. But Ruth is going to the UP to see her family...so who else? Shane? No. Shane is currently already working 2 jobs and has no time for anything. Levon? Don't know. He's a drunk. He's also kicked out of his house because he's an atheist and is living out of different people's houses/his car. Mother in law then....with lots of instructions, I suppose. Don't know if she's ever medicated a cat before. It's not for the weak hearted. Jon is miserable at even just holding the cat in a towel for me so I actually find it easier to hold down the cat and squirt the shit down her throat myself. Sure, I get clawed once in a while, but he's so horrible at holding her I actually get injured less without him. Wish I could drop her off somewhere but I don't know that many people. I also don't want to stress her out while her body is already stressed and trying to heal, so taking her along to my parent's house really is out of the question...5 hour drive...two dogs...then being locked up while somewhere new.
Jon broke his phone. On purpose again. This pisses me off. Why? Because he was having a bad day, arguing with me over something valid, but that we were working on resolving and someone was blowing up his phone with texts and calls. Constantly. Like every minute or two. Which would piss me off as well but I'd just turn off the phone or tell them to fucking quit bugging me and I'll call them when I feel like it. So now instead of just calling him and asking if he needs a ride to work, I first have to come home to see if he's home then back track if he's not. Annoying. Time consuming. Ridiculous. Although, to his credit, he did call and let me know yesterday from his dad's phone...I just fucking didn't check my messages in time because I have to turn my ringer off at work so I never think about checking the phone later. My fault and one of Jon's pet peeves with me. It is nice not having Jon's phone ring a zillion times a night, though. Peaceful. But, of course he now doesn't have any phone numbers again and will have to run around to find out things...which is hard on the gas money. If gas was cheaper it would bug me less.
And none of these things are things I can seemingly do anything about...which is why, I suppose I am awake thinking about them instead of sleeping. I'm a do it and get it over with person. Not a we'll see person. Which makes me a little annoyed at Jon for letting this dropping of the oil pan/replacing oil pump thing drag on. I do understand though. He's worried he won't be able to do it himself. So if he doesn't want to do it himself we need to save up some cash to pay to have it done. Which we are saving up some cash...for something anyway, just accumulates quite slowly.
Wednesday, July 10, 2013
Last Weekend Part II
The only other thing worth mentioning about last weekend was the traffic heading home.
All was well and good on the usually busy Ohio State Route 83...I didn't even find myself behind one of those old ladies who seems to be afraid of letting her foot down on the accelerator...and barring that, I didn't find myself behind a loaded logging truck either. So I found myself having to pay attention to my speed as my car believes I am Speed Racer on the downhill bits and while I really like being Speed Racer, I do have out of state plates and have to be wary of local cops as tickets are expensive and not much fun
This all changed once we met with the Ohio Turnpike. Terrible, just terrible. Miles and miles and miles of traffic jam. All three lanes crawling along. We got stuck behind an RV called Big Ed...so saith the vanity plates and this was our main view for miles. I eventually managed to tuck in behind a semi truck and while that really didn't improve the view, at least I was near the shoulder and the off ramp should I need to use the potty at one of the service station.
Big Ed passed us.
And we finally crawled (after 15 miles) to the service station...and it was backed up....really backed up. Luckily we didn't need to pee. The gas station was mobbed. A Prius appeared to be out of gas and waiting in line! I laughed at this. Big Ed was refueling...and blocking about 4 pumps...Big Ed was quite an enormous RV...probably a million dollar model..with pop out living area and all. And, at the wheel of Big Ed? A very large, happy Golden Retriever.
Jon snapped a photo while we were just sitting there waiting for traffic exiting the service station to try to merge back into the road.
Eventually it was my turn to deal with the idiots merging...or not...
And this is where I got really angry. Some idiot in an Mercedes SUV was buzzing alongside our lane (not in a lane, on the SHOULDER) and thinking I was going to let them in. Ummmm....no...this yellow car doesn't yield for people NOT EVEN IN THE ROAD! I clung to the ass of that semi truck like a stubborn dingleberry. I'd have considered letting them in if they were at the point where the on ramp and the road met, but they were TOO GOOD to do that. We were half a mile past that point.
Jon borderline freaked out saying they were going to hit us.
I said, um, no, that new Mercedes has some good insurance on it, and anyway, it would be ALL THEIR FAULT if they hit us considering they were breaking the law by driving on the shoulder.
Idiot in Mercedes decided I wasn't going to play nice. Unfortunately, the person behind me was nice and let them in. I wouldn't have. If I'd have had my way that whole line of traffic would have denied them access. I've done this before to people in traffic jams. Ummm....noooo...assholes, you aren't any more special than the rest of us. You can wait just like the rest of us.
So they were behind us and decided our lane was moving too slowly and got in the lane next to us. I laughed so hard because that lane was going even more slowly. None of the lanes was traveling more than 5-10 mph...in bursts.
Eventually we reached the road works that were the problem. One lane was eliminated, and in usual idiot fashion, the people in that lane refused to merge into the other lanes, making alllll that traffic and misery even though the signs are clearly posted for miles.
At this point things got better and we traveled at a steady 40 mph.
Eventually the road works ended altogether and we could go the speed limit which is 70 on the Ohio Turnpike.
This made for a long trip home.
Jon kept saying he'd never really seen me have road rage before. Yep. I get it. But only for shit like that guy in the Mercedes tried to pull. "Oh, the little yellow car will let me in, its a car...." Ummm no....I'm really not afraid of you when you're in a slightly bigger car and we're all going 5 mph....ooooohhh....fender bender...and its all your fault? You owe me a new paint job mother fucker....I need one anyway for all the chips on my hood caused by those mother fucking gravel trucks that really shouldn't be allowed on the freeway.
And that was that.
All was well and good on the usually busy Ohio State Route 83...I didn't even find myself behind one of those old ladies who seems to be afraid of letting her foot down on the accelerator...and barring that, I didn't find myself behind a loaded logging truck either. So I found myself having to pay attention to my speed as my car believes I am Speed Racer on the downhill bits and while I really like being Speed Racer, I do have out of state plates and have to be wary of local cops as tickets are expensive and not much fun
This all changed once we met with the Ohio Turnpike. Terrible, just terrible. Miles and miles and miles of traffic jam. All three lanes crawling along. We got stuck behind an RV called Big Ed...so saith the vanity plates and this was our main view for miles. I eventually managed to tuck in behind a semi truck and while that really didn't improve the view, at least I was near the shoulder and the off ramp should I need to use the potty at one of the service station.
Big Ed passed us.
And we finally crawled (after 15 miles) to the service station...and it was backed up....really backed up. Luckily we didn't need to pee. The gas station was mobbed. A Prius appeared to be out of gas and waiting in line! I laughed at this. Big Ed was refueling...and blocking about 4 pumps...Big Ed was quite an enormous RV...probably a million dollar model..with pop out living area and all. And, at the wheel of Big Ed? A very large, happy Golden Retriever.
Jon snapped a photo while we were just sitting there waiting for traffic exiting the service station to try to merge back into the road.
Eventually it was my turn to deal with the idiots merging...or not...
And this is where I got really angry. Some idiot in an Mercedes SUV was buzzing alongside our lane (not in a lane, on the SHOULDER) and thinking I was going to let them in. Ummmm....no...this yellow car doesn't yield for people NOT EVEN IN THE ROAD! I clung to the ass of that semi truck like a stubborn dingleberry. I'd have considered letting them in if they were at the point where the on ramp and the road met, but they were TOO GOOD to do that. We were half a mile past that point.
Jon borderline freaked out saying they were going to hit us.
I said, um, no, that new Mercedes has some good insurance on it, and anyway, it would be ALL THEIR FAULT if they hit us considering they were breaking the law by driving on the shoulder.
Idiot in Mercedes decided I wasn't going to play nice. Unfortunately, the person behind me was nice and let them in. I wouldn't have. If I'd have had my way that whole line of traffic would have denied them access. I've done this before to people in traffic jams. Ummm....noooo...assholes, you aren't any more special than the rest of us. You can wait just like the rest of us.
So they were behind us and decided our lane was moving too slowly and got in the lane next to us. I laughed so hard because that lane was going even more slowly. None of the lanes was traveling more than 5-10 mph...in bursts.
Eventually we reached the road works that were the problem. One lane was eliminated, and in usual idiot fashion, the people in that lane refused to merge into the other lanes, making alllll that traffic and misery even though the signs are clearly posted for miles.
At this point things got better and we traveled at a steady 40 mph.
Eventually the road works ended altogether and we could go the speed limit which is 70 on the Ohio Turnpike.
This made for a long trip home.
Jon kept saying he'd never really seen me have road rage before. Yep. I get it. But only for shit like that guy in the Mercedes tried to pull. "Oh, the little yellow car will let me in, its a car...." Ummm no....I'm really not afraid of you when you're in a slightly bigger car and we're all going 5 mph....ooooohhh....fender bender...and its all your fault? You owe me a new paint job mother fucker....I need one anyway for all the chips on my hood caused by those mother fucking gravel trucks that really shouldn't be allowed on the freeway.
And that was that.
Sunday, July 7, 2013
Stressful Weekend, Happy Ending
My plans actually didn't fall through this weekend.
Went to my parent's house. Things seemed good, things seemed normal. Then I was informed that their old dog Bean had gone missing on the 4th of July while my parents had gone to Cincinnati to visit one of my cousins. My old friend was missing. He hates guns, thunder, fireworks, anything of the sort, but has NEVER RUN away in all his 14 years of being loose at my parent's house. Never.
My parents, of course, blamed themselves for not tying him at his box (a thing he always hated but was sometimes necessary, though rarely since the road/neighbors are all tolerant of him. He doesn't bother livestock or make a nuisance of himself). They would have left him inside the house if they hadn't been going to be gone for so long (four plus hour drive one direction, plus visiting and return trip) and they thought nothing of it as its something they have done often over the years.
I cried.
So my father informed me that he hoped my dogs would kick him up and we could either get him home safely or bury him. The overgrowth and undergrowth in that little bit of Ohio right now is amazing since its rained nearly every day on and off for weeks.
Bean is quite arthritic and can't get around well so we were searching mainly close to the house but we also searched the back of beyond too, just in case. Nothing. At this point he had been gone three days. In rain, in storms he hated, no food and probably some water because of the rain, but possibly not much.
I cried.
Next morning we went out for another round, hoping to find something of him. The rain had hidden all tracks that could have been in the mud. There was just nothing. So I took my very happy dogs....they like to run about off leash with no threat of other humans/cars things to really hurt them. Miss Emma found the biggest, muddiest, grossest smelling cow crossing she could and ran back and forth through it enthusiastically until she was covered in smelly clay and had to be hosed off with the garden hose....and we again went out.
We were about to give up when my Dad's cell phone rang, and he looks at the caller id , gets a weird look on his face, then answers it. It's Jon calling from my phone (which is why the weird look since I was standing right next to him) and he is saying Bean is home, in the yard, tired, but otherwise seemingly okay. Not tore up. Not limping worse than usual, just being Bean.
We get back to the house, and yep, there he is. Thirsty, drinking lots of water, but tired. Happy eyes. Happy to have his ears rubbed and be back with his family.
Dad had to carry him up the porch steps...he was just too stiff...and tired...but they got him inside by the air conditioner, got some food in him (egg and other people food he loves) and he had a nap and lots of petting. He perked right up. Happy to see my dogs, me, everyone.
My cousin's girl, Lexi, brought her little dog when they came to visit, and he perked up enough to chase it around the house (slowly but that dog was rather afraid of all the other dogs so it was still a chase) so he could make friends.
So glad this all had a happy ending. It made for loads of stress. I have never seen my dad drink to drown sorrows before. I saw it this weekend. Not sloppy drunk, not really drunk at all, but actively drinking.
The moral of the story is: no matter how well you know your dog, no matter how many times you've done something, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE leave your dogs INSIDE during the fourth of July. (My parent's neighbors had been setting them off for hours apparently.) Or otherwise secure them by tying them out. All the endings aren't happy ones like this one. On the news while we were there, the newscast was all about the Humane Society taking in 150 dogs that were SIMPLY LOST on the 4th. They were pleading with owners to please come in and have a look if their dog was missing. Don't call. GO IN.
Went to my parent's house. Things seemed good, things seemed normal. Then I was informed that their old dog Bean had gone missing on the 4th of July while my parents had gone to Cincinnati to visit one of my cousins. My old friend was missing. He hates guns, thunder, fireworks, anything of the sort, but has NEVER RUN away in all his 14 years of being loose at my parent's house. Never.
My parents, of course, blamed themselves for not tying him at his box (a thing he always hated but was sometimes necessary, though rarely since the road/neighbors are all tolerant of him. He doesn't bother livestock or make a nuisance of himself). They would have left him inside the house if they hadn't been going to be gone for so long (four plus hour drive one direction, plus visiting and return trip) and they thought nothing of it as its something they have done often over the years.
I cried.
So my father informed me that he hoped my dogs would kick him up and we could either get him home safely or bury him. The overgrowth and undergrowth in that little bit of Ohio right now is amazing since its rained nearly every day on and off for weeks.
Bean is quite arthritic and can't get around well so we were searching mainly close to the house but we also searched the back of beyond too, just in case. Nothing. At this point he had been gone three days. In rain, in storms he hated, no food and probably some water because of the rain, but possibly not much.
I cried.
Next morning we went out for another round, hoping to find something of him. The rain had hidden all tracks that could have been in the mud. There was just nothing. So I took my very happy dogs....they like to run about off leash with no threat of other humans/cars things to really hurt them. Miss Emma found the biggest, muddiest, grossest smelling cow crossing she could and ran back and forth through it enthusiastically until she was covered in smelly clay and had to be hosed off with the garden hose....and we again went out.
We were about to give up when my Dad's cell phone rang, and he looks at the caller id , gets a weird look on his face, then answers it. It's Jon calling from my phone (which is why the weird look since I was standing right next to him) and he is saying Bean is home, in the yard, tired, but otherwise seemingly okay. Not tore up. Not limping worse than usual, just being Bean.
We get back to the house, and yep, there he is. Thirsty, drinking lots of water, but tired. Happy eyes. Happy to have his ears rubbed and be back with his family.
Dad had to carry him up the porch steps...he was just too stiff...and tired...but they got him inside by the air conditioner, got some food in him (egg and other people food he loves) and he had a nap and lots of petting. He perked right up. Happy to see my dogs, me, everyone.
My cousin's girl, Lexi, brought her little dog when they came to visit, and he perked up enough to chase it around the house (slowly but that dog was rather afraid of all the other dogs so it was still a chase) so he could make friends.
So glad this all had a happy ending. It made for loads of stress. I have never seen my dad drink to drown sorrows before. I saw it this weekend. Not sloppy drunk, not really drunk at all, but actively drinking.
The moral of the story is: no matter how well you know your dog, no matter how many times you've done something, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE leave your dogs INSIDE during the fourth of July. (My parent's neighbors had been setting them off for hours apparently.) Or otherwise secure them by tying them out. All the endings aren't happy ones like this one. On the news while we were there, the newscast was all about the Humane Society taking in 150 dogs that were SIMPLY LOST on the 4th. They were pleading with owners to please come in and have a look if their dog was missing. Don't call. GO IN.
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