Darling Clementine

I’ve been in an incredibly good mood all day. I know… I’ll wait while you get up off the fainting couch. No one, not even the jackasses at work, interfered with it. It’s been quite lovely. I’m not even letting something else get in the way. You’re not ruining my week, Auntie.

Let’s hope it extends through the weekend because I’m going to top this bitch off with some Guinness Extra Stout and the pooty-faces (and Mummy Dearests) of the world can suck on it. So, there!

I’ve had the shittiest week and I’ll thank no one to fuck with me any further. 3 days and I’m ready to cut somebody. Yeah, 3 days… I have Mondays off for the forseeable future (i.e., until about September) and today, I woke up and said fuck it. I am in no mood to deal with any more crap. I just can’t take it anymore. I don’t know what kind of fucked up alignment the planets had going on and how many people were on their damn periods, but this shit… I’m done.

It’s also find a new job time and to utilise that link I posted a few entries back. I’ll show you, asshole.

Anyway, since my (immediate) boss didn’t call or text me back this morning, I guess not coming in was cool. If not, oh well, fire me. Please fucking fire me. I’ll give monies to fire me. Nah, don’t fire me just yet. I have to steal shit first (not really).

Also, fuck you Comcast… showing the Emirates Cup on a channel I don’t have. THAT’S EVIL. Fine then, I’ll just watch it online. YOU DON’T OWN ME.

I haven’t been to work in two days and I don’t give even the slightest bit of a crap. Normally I’d feel a little bad about sitting at home without being sick or whatever, but today (and yesterday), nope. Not one single iota. I didn’t even call yesterday, just didn’t bother to show up. Immature sure; but I woke up at 6:30, stared at the ceiling for a bit, decided my life sucks and turned over and went back to sleep. This morning, same thing… only I called. I don’t care.

I’m just a little frustrated and burnt-out at the moment. How is it me “helping” you, when I’M doing all the work? I mean, really? You’re not doing anything* and two other people are doing your fucking work.

*Well, you’re doing something, but I refuse to believe that it takes as long as you make it seem. You just don’t want to fucking work… I already know. Just admit it already. I’d say it must suck having to do your own work these past two days, but I’m sure you just pawned it off onto someone else.

Eh, whatever. I’ll just stroll back in Monday morning, well-rested and not itching to shove anyone down the stairs. Or maybe I won’t. Who knows? All I know is that today, you guys aren’t around to bug me and it’s absolutely magnificent.

P.S. No accidentally horrible tags this time! LOL

I’ve gotten to the point where i just don’t like to discuss my life with mother anymore. We’ve stopped inviting her places and work is just about the only place I see her. We’re/I’m just not in the mood for her shenanigans anymore. If you can’t play nice, you can’t play at all.

My birthday is Thursday (OLD, ). She’s throwing me a party on the 27th for it. I just don’t care to show up at all. There’s never anyone there that I like or care to hang out with. It’s a fucking keg party, which I hate. The only reason she throws parties is to be the center of fucking attention. Doesn’t matter what it’s for. The last time I had a big birthday bash she turned it around on herself, so I’m not holding out much hope for this one. People from work are supposed to show up and I want her to bust out her true colours in front of them so hard.

But, yeah. I just don’t feel like telling her about my goings-on anymore. We had a super bowl party… she wasn’t invited. She can’t fucking behave herself, therefore she’s not invited. We all decided that shit around Christmastime when my grandpa was in town & we all went out to dinner. She bitched & acted like a petulant child from the moment we got there until days after it was over. And I had to hear all about it. Therefore, we’ve stopped giving a shit about her because she clearly doesn’t give a shit about anyone but herself.

“What did you guys do for super bowl?” “Was anyone over there?” “I had to sit at home by myself.” That, which is a lie because she then later told me that she went across the street to hang out with her neighbours for a bit. You’re not going to guilt me with that “I’m all alone/I have no friends” bullshit. You have plenty of friends, you just apparently don’t ever call them. Seriously. Or maybe you do and they’re avoiding you b/c you act the same way around them.

A “hey, what did you do this weekend” is terribly innocent from anyone but her. God forbid you do anything fun without having invited her along. She’s got some sort of inferiority complex going on that is really fucking annoying. Someone has something she doesn’t? Someone buys something? Oh, those are apparently the biggest personal affronts to her EVER. How dare someone have something i don’t.

She’s always saying that people should step back and look at the common denominator when someone else bitches about the same thing. You know, one day I’m going to tell her the same thing. I’m tired of stressing myself out over it and I’m going to stop. I just don’t give a shit anymore. I’ll be 30-years-old on the 25th…. I’m too old for this fucking junior-high guilt-trip shit, especially from my own mother.

I totally told a truck driver to kiss my ass this morning. Motherfucker had it coming. I was not in the mood for smart-ass jokes about my work performance. Especially from some smelly loser. Allow me to start from the beginning…

Drivers come in to pick up some cheap shit. They’re early, so I’m not in the mood. I’m currently processing orders, so it’s going to be a minute. Georgia tells SmartAss McGee that I’m currently doing that and it’ll be a minute. (It doesn’t take me long, because I fucking rule.) I’m coming around the corner from the stairs as she’s telling him. Then as I’m picking up the folders, I hear this…

“[current real name] needs to step it up a notch.”

(cue me turning around with that LOOK on my face. oh yeah, peaches, you know that look i get when i’m going to get stabby.)

“You need to kiss my ass.”

Then cue his other smart-ass comment about me not having had my coffee this morning. I don’t drink coffee during the week and I manage just fine so SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU SMELLY LOSER.

I just ignored him and went about my business. I went back upstairs and came back down a few minutes later and he cracks off, “It’ll be OK, [current real name}.”

I swear to everything Holy I almost went over there and kicked him in his fucking shins. Anyway…

So, how is everyone? BRILLIANT!