Meet Me in St. Louis.

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Guess what?  This entry?  It’s going to feature some nice bitching about work!  I’m sure you’re all just SHOCKED. 

I have a hearing next week in
St. Louis.  In and of itself, this is not a horrible thing.  Getting away from this increasingly weird-vibe shithole is somewhat appealing, but leaving at 7:30 Saturday morning for a hearing that doesn’t start till Monday? Not so much.  We’re allegedly going to “be available for our client.”  Translation:  sit around in a boring-ass hotel room all fucking day for a one-hour meeting.  Heaven forbid our client should have to work on Sunday instead of Saturday.  Way to fuck up my weekend, Mr. Snorty.   

Furthermore, every time I talk to Ms. Whiny, the urge to bitch-slap her upside her (strangely flat and pointy at the same time) head gets stronger and stronger.  It’s been a long time since someone pushed my buttons in quite this fashion, and sooner or later, I fear that I will be forced to push back.  There’s only so much of being treated like a retarded five-year-old who just shit all over her 5000-thread-count sheets that I can take.   

The travel thing is weird to me right now.  When I originally applied for this job, I was unattached.  And honestly, the person to whom I was loosely “attached” for the preceding time period….well, let’s just say I never really missed him much when I was gone.  I’ve always liked to go places (especially when someone else is paying for it…hehe), and had never actually had a job where I got to go anywhere but to the fucking courthouse, bank, office supply store (and that was a rare treat), so I thought it would be fun.  Plus, I got fed a lot of shit about going to cool places.  So far, it’s been your basic Midwestern meccas that I’ve seen before…and I don’t think there’s anything “cool” on the docket until October.  Unless
Cleveland has somehow magically become cool.  At present, though, going somewhere means I will miss someone.   

The Universe does have a way of making you eat your words.  During my quasi-relationship with the former GID, and actually, in most of the ones I had before that, I felt like once a week was a perfectly acceptable…nay, DESIRABLE…amount of time to spend with your significant (or insignificant) other.  But since I have actually been involved with someone whose work schedule and mine are not exactly conducive to weeknight hanging out…someone who I actually want to spend more time with…I’ve realized that perhaps once a week is not enough.  And when that once a week is turned into 8 hours by virtue of a job that is pissing you off more and more with each passing day…well, that just blows the goat ass. 

 

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Filed under Pissing Me Off, Work Insanity