As I sit here enjoying one of my favorite Christmas presents...the XL box of Milk Duds from sis, a few things occur to me about this wonderful time of year. I will share them with you now.
First, Milk Duds really are best enjoyed in private. Who needs an audience when you are prying the delicious caramel chocolaty goodness off your back teeth and gums?
Second, being sick on Christmas has its advantages. You get to hang out, collect your gifts, observe enough shit to gossip about later and then spend the rest of the day in bed listening to your new audio book in peace.
and last if you give your kid a gift card to a store he doesn't like, he will sell it for 50 cents on the dollar to get a couple of burgers and a milk shake. Next year just get him the fast food gift certificates and be done with.
Life is about learning. I hope you walk away with something useful here today.
My little bastard son gave me a cold. I am a whiny miserable sick person and just want to be left alone. However, seeing I am having a party for a dozen or so people Christmas Eve, I guess that isn't a possibility. So I am trying to get through the next day and a half in my office without killing someone and then suffer through the holidays with my family without killing someone. The familar is so comforting.
I had to interrupt this entry to talk to an employee that knocked and asked if I had a second. This is never good.
The bitch just told me she misses her newborn and has decided to become a SAHM for a while. "It is better for the kid's well being" blah blah blah. Yeah, but what about ME? Now I have to find someone and have her trained right around the holidays. Inconsiderate piece of pond scum. Always worried what is best for the children. Like they remember who it is that wipes the shit off their ass at this age anyway.
So now I am sick, miserable and have to sort through two hundred resumes from under qualified people claiming great customer satisfaction (hooker) or wonderful communication skills (Phone sex worker).
I am not exaggerating about the amount of applications I will receive. It is sad in the sunshine state. Unemployment is greater than 12% and I will receive resumes from people with MBAs and PHDs but desperate for anything at this point.
As a business person, I won't even consider anyone like that because the reality is, the entire time they are working answering the telephone, they are going to be seeking something better. I can't blame them but I can't afford the staff flip every three to six months either.
I am going to blow my nose now. What, too much information? I didn't describe it or anything...
I usually confine my comments about work to bitching about my employees. I tend to not talk about the customers as I like my job and getting sued isn't conducive to job security.
My customers are more precisely known as patients. Which is kind of ironic because most tend to have none of that particular quality. Cranky injured people have the right to be bitchy and since I personally don't have to deal with their whiney asses, I don't give a shit. Besides, people in pain may be short tempered but are normally grateful for the help and are seldom just plain nasty.
However, the folks that do bring sharpened tongues, and occasionally sharpened knives, to their appointments are the drug seekers.
This charming group of folks will lie, manipulate and steal to get their drug of choice and if you happen to be between them and their goal, you will be run over like the dog they think you are. I am fortunate enough not to have to deal with these people directly very often. When I do, it has usually gotten to the point where the city's men in blue have to be called in to taser the fuckers and drag them across my nice Italian tile floor kicking and screaming.
Since we are all not cruel and evil bastards and my practitioners have taken that pesky little Hippocratic Oath, we do provide drugs for pain relief when warranted. However, they are carefully monitored and patients on long term drug therapy have to sign a contract agreeing to be drug tested and take the medication as prescribed. This has led to its own little problems and hilarious situations. I have decided to share a few of the more ingenious excuses and plots with you kids in the coming days.
I will start with Mrs. Olnrickedy. Mrs. O looks like a typical grandma that you would expect to see mixing up a batch of oatmeal raisin cookies for the kiddies. But looks can be deceiving. She came to us severely addicted to Percodan. She was easy to spot as are most patients that come in stating they just happen to be allergic to every non narcotic pain reliever known to man and can ONLY be helped by -------- (Inserts drug of choice here). The deal with Mrs O that makes us all sympathize is that she really does have a very painful chronic condition. Although you want to be able to give the patient some help, the more opiates she takes, the less they seem to work for her. So she resorts to using tricks in order to get the extra she "needs".
I have to hand it to Mrs. O that she was pretty clever and she really let the grandma look work for her for an awfully long time. However, they all get caught eventually. It is just a matter of time. It appears Mrs O had gone to kinkos with one of our prescriptions. She whited out the date and made a few dozen copies. She would carefully go over the writing with ink so it looked new and date the script with the same pen. She also, and this is most important, paid cash for her drugs at different pharmacies. This is the detail that most drug abusers miss. Even if you go to a different pharmacy, if insurance is playing the bill, they are going to question why Dr. Feelgood is prescribing 200 oxycontin per month. But Mrs O didn't take the chance. She was smart...but not quite smart enough. What she didn't realize is that pharmacies often send faxes to offices requesting refills when a patient requests one but have none left. Apparently she was calling around her usual pharmacies trying to gather up her drugs like a little squirrel for the holidays and two pharmacists faxed over requests the same day. Two or three phone calls later, a few copies of prescriptions and an embarrassed Mrs O on the phone and her little game was over.
I strongly suspect she will be spending this Christmas in rehab.
So, I am a day or so early. Sue me. I've got tons of shit to do and didn't want to neglect the kewl kid's table as I am sure none of you can sleep in anticipation of what link I will post each week.
Today I have two.
First, something for the kiddies. Email Santa, track his progress, play games, find out if the brats are on the naughty or nice list but most of all it will keep them the hell away from you so you can finally wrap some gifts in peace.
Second, if you are in the same Bah Humbug mood as I. Click here and shoot Santa over a cliff. It is really quite a good stress reliever!
Now that the company luncheon is over it is time to prepare for our drunken bash on Saturday night. For the record, I hate this one too but it is a lot easier to disappear when you aren't confined to a conference room not to mention there are no fights over who gets stuck sitting by Stinky MacStinkass. We can just lead her to a corner surrounded by her PigPen fog that can act as a warning to all.
My date this year is Number One Son. You may be wondering why I won't be including SCM. If you are wondering, you haven't been reading my laments very long. I will fucked him, bring him coffee and take his money but I am damn sure not taking him out in public. He and I don't do well outside of the house. I admit, my expectations of his behavior are far too high. I mean who am I to request he not hog the microphone during karaoke, tell inappropriate jokes or grab my ass in front of my employees.
I am so freakin' inflexible.
My son works in my office on occasion acting as my bitch. Most recently moving people around and putting together desk to accommodate Smellslikeass's need for a closet office of her own. The gang likes him and has invited him to hang out with them at the party. If nothing else, I have a designated driver although I suspect it might work out the other way around.
Tonight is the Princess' Christmas Program. I can call it Christmas because she is in a catholic school so no PC holiday titles required. I got to thinking about how much I used to like my Christmas programs at school. It was so exciting being in the classroom at night with our pretty new clothes, games and the teachers acting like real people. The glitter of the decorated gymnasium and the butterflies before we went on. Scanning the audience for Mom and Dad and being so excited to finally locate them. All the parents gathered around to pick up the kids when the show was over.
I hope the Princess's memories are just as nice when she gets to be an old cranky bitch like me.
Today is the company's annual Christmas luncheon. So obviously I am sitting in my office with the door closed, blogging. I plan to continue this behavior until the last possible moment when I can walk in, slap a piece of ham on my plate along with some other casserole looking mush and a crusty deviled egg or two.
I brought the ham so I know it is safe for consumption, the rest will end up casually tossed away. I've seen many of these people's homes. If it ain't store bought in factory sealing, I ain't goin' near it.
What freaks me out is most staff actually enjoy these little get togethers. True I allow them a longer lunch and pay them for it but geez, they have to hang out with the folks then spend the other 364 days a year bitching about.
So I will go in, collect my cheap secret santa gift of CVS candles or last year's regifted body lotion, smile and laugh in fake delight and merriment.
Geez, am I behind in life or what? I haven’t sent out a Christmas card, made a cookie or wrapped a present. I wouldn’t have any lights on my house if SCM hadn’t been ambitious and skilled at ladder balancing on rain soaked soil and begonias.
However, I have almost completed my shopping. This is no great feat as I am a shopaholic and buying things for people year round is a hobby of mine. I just have to slap a bow upon them and voila, greetings of the season.
I did get some bad news recently. A mass was discovered on my kidney several months ago which required test upon test upon test. I was hoping it could be removed laproscopically but that is not to be. In order to remove the mass, they need to take my entire kidney. I am honored that I have been offered so many vital organs that I could sell kidneys on ebay and pay for the surgery twice over. A good friend allows you to bitch about your BF being an asshole. A great friend offers to have a huge scar across their back for the rest of their life. Fortunately, I explained that my other kidney is fine and I probably won’t be taking them up on their offer. How do you properly thank someone for something like that though? A fruit basket doesn't quite cut it.
In an effort to further procrastinate I am going to get a third opinion. Yes, I am in denial but I was so hoping that the surgery would be an easy one and removing the entire fucker is a lot more complicated and takes a huge recovery period. The good news is I will get to blog more. The bad news is I will be bored and have nothing to say.
I am really not looking for sympathy and have been telling people who say they are “praying for me” to pick something a little more worthy to spend their G-d merits. Whatever happens I am not going to be letting a surgeon near me with a sharp object until next year. He’ll just have to pay for his kid's Zhu Zhu pets without my help.
I really enjoy ragging on the crazy, unique, wonderful, psychopath I call Mother.
However, tonight I have a story with Mother participating where she was actually not the cause of the anger, misunderstandings and intense bowel cramping.
Mother and my brother's wife are having a disagreement.
No, that isn't right.
They aren't communicating their pissed off attitude towards each other, rather they are sickening sweet as usual.
No, each is griping about the other to the rest of the family...
and friends, neighbors and the UPS guy.
My sister in law is accusing Mother of spoiling her step son, Mother's grandson. Now I haven't read every page of the Grandparent's Handbook but I am pretty sure spoiling of the grandkids is allowed if not mandatory.
SIL is ticked because the last time her son needed a haircut, Mother bribed him with a video game. Now my nephew is refusing to go with his step mother to get a haircut but is waiting until Grandma can take him so he can score some more loot..
I am so damn proud that he is learning the fine art of manipulation at a young age, a skill that will benefit him greatly in later life. That's my boy! But I digress...
Instead of my SIL telling the little shit to get in the G-d Damn car because they are going to Hair Cuttery, she is blaming Mother for the fact that she is too much of a wimp to parent.
It is so confusing actually taking Mother's side in a disagreement. I need to hang out with the woman for a day so she can do something fucked up and right my world.
Everywhere I look there is someone posting about the Tiger Woods saga.
People, get a fucking LIFE!! Who the hell cares if they are having trouble? If she is getting her ass beat or beating his ass with his nine iron, why is it such a concern to you?
This "incident" occurred in my area so it is TIGER this and TIGER that 24/7 on the news. The only reason we are getting inundated with this shit is because his troubles sell commericals. If people didn't give a shit and switch off the TV, I might be able to get the actually news about great sales on Prada at the local outlet.
I hate to be a wimp, but it is freakin' COLD in Florida tonight. I know many of you are suffering with freezing temperatures but 45 degrees and rainy has me in three shirts and two pairs of socks. If I could type wearing mittens, I would have those on too.
I knew I should have bought that electric blanket when I saw it on black friday. Who would have thunk it?
I COULD turn the heat on but it would be the first time this season and it will set the smoke alarms off.
SCM is lucky he is out playing because he wouldn't be getting any on this night. As a matter of fact, he may have to go back to his own room across the house as I refuse to have cold feet anywhere within three feet of me tonight.
During the princesses skating lesson today I couldn't even go into the rink area without shivering uncontrollable and the dogs are pissing all over the house because they refuse to put their paws on the cold wet grass. (Anyone know where I can get four pairs of tiny little boots?)
Yeah...we Florida residents are wimpy.
Why don't I hear the sympathy I so rightly deserve from out there in cyberland???
Before I link my website of the week I will offer my favorite comment from yesterday...
So you are dating a guy and fucking your "ex"husband. What a fucking little whore you are.
12/3/09 10:37 PM
Wait until next week when I share my escapades with the gentlemen I have met on the Casual Encounters section of Craigslist. There doesn't seem to be enough of sexy me to go around... Sigh.
Although I wouldn't particulary mind if Anonymous's senario were true, unfortunately, the guy I was seeing dumped my ass when I sent a text message to him that wasn't exactly meant for him. Never got around to doin' the wild thing or he probably wouldn't have been so fast to give me the boot.
Okay, he probably would but I will allow myself to continue to think highly of my expertise in that area.
Some guys are so damn picky about that being in love with someone else shit.
So to clarify, SCM and I are back together and working it out. Or trying too. We've been here before but I am nothing if not feebleminded optimistic.
In any case, my fun site of the week is Retail Hell Underground. During this shopping season, lets take some pity on the people that work in customer service that have to deal with our stressed out asses.
For the last couple of weeks, I have been spending my days at work and my nights under SCM.
Well, that isn't exactly true. My nights have been under, on top, facing, not facing, upside down, standing, sitting on a chair, leaning on the bathroom counter, oh and there was this one time....
Ever since the guy I am married to had his heart seize up, he really has been like a changed person. Personally, it has been quite a shock and I've been waiting for the normal John to return and explode that the world is crumbling around us and it is the fault of Hollywood ,the Arabs and the old man down the street who doesn't water his lawn enough.
Of course he is consuming hand fulls of pills for everything from cholesterol to mood stabilizers but hey, better living through chemistry looks great on him.
SCM and I have been this happy little couple to the outside world since he was released from the hospital and then it occurred to me...
Hey, if we are acting like a happy couple, why aren't I getting any?
This is BULLSHIT!
So I corrected that glitch and have been in correction mode for days now. Now I remember why I married him in the first place.