Boss saunters in to work at 10:15am (we start at 8:30, did you know?). Chats with the admin downstairs. Then runs upstairs with the flower invoice I just submitted for his signature, all, "Why is this so expensive? Last year I checked and it was three hundred and thirty dollars less expensive. We need to get it down. I am not paying more than last year, that's ridiculous. Ask for 5% off. Do you have these at crash tables also? You should just cut them from the crash tables, we don't need them there." Suggestions for how I should decrease the invoice from last year continue for another five minutes. Thanks, dude. You're awesome. I'd love to tell you that 1. things tend to go up in price; that's called "inflation"; 2. there were a lot less flowers last year, because we had a lot less people coming and therefore less tables; and 3. you freak out over such petty shit that I just want to scream.
oh my god. the day just started.
List my email wrong on something important. Like a registration form. So when people have questions, they email somebody else (unfortunately, the 'wrong' email is owned by a mean, unhelpful person), don't get a reply, and then get pissed at me.
]]>"Do you know of any professors that are interested in bird-watching?"
Productive things I did this weekend:
--taxes (mostly expletives follow so use your imagination)
--volunteered at a cat shelter and helped adopt four wonderful kitties
Unproductive things I did this weekend:
--played "rise of nations" for a really really ridiculous amount of time (and couldn't understand why newly created citizens wouldn't go to work at the nearest mine or woodcutting camp and instead hang out and yawn?!)
--got lost driving and sat in traffic
--slept A LOT
--watched "Enchanted"
--had a migraine
--stared at the wall
--read gossip blogs
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I am so fed up with my boss. What the fuck, dude.
Hey, so I'm a little concerned here. My wrist appears! to be broken. By appears I mean there is all the proof but for the x-rays which come in tomorrow. It certainly hurts like a bitch. And given that it's been broken three times before, and that I spent six hours throwing last weekend, I'm not very surprised. And by throwing I mean as in clay on the wheel, not as in big rocks at stupid people (which I would enjoy as much as any sort of throwing).
Anyway, I was taking it easy until I went to the doctor, who was young and very much in like with himself, and very fancily told me about how after one damages the wrist joint there is all sort of "degeneration" and I'll basically have this problem forever and he's sorry to tell me, but basically I can never have my wrist back and he is "sorry he had to tell me this". Dude, it's not cancer. I'm not dying. Why are you so smug? He did a lot of examination mumbling things "to himself" like "yeah, yeah, there is definitely damage here... hmmm that's not good...". I wanted to slap him and tell him he is definitely not getting laid otherwise he wouldn't feel superior telling me bad news. Only people that don't get laid do this shit.
And it does suck, of course, I'm not saying it's all kittens and sunshine, because it means pottery is out of the question for some time, which really does upset me a lot. Pottery is my happy place. On the other hand, maybe it's a break I should take advantage of and sign up for Arabic and Math instead, which I've been meaning to do for some time. My hand is in a brace right now, and I already realize how much more uncomfortable I'm going to be with a full cast. I can barely type (pain), it's impossible to use the mouse with my right hand (pain, brace in the way), I can't turn faucets or even bottle caps, it's hard to drive, washing dishes is a bigger pain in the butt, I can't scratch my left side, etc etc. But, having done this three times before in a much less mature stage of my life I think I can handle it just fine this time around. (if I can't the next post is going to be super whiny)
...the folks downstairs pick up the phone and call me instead of IT or a technician. I'm an international affairs major. No, I don't know how to fix the printer.
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