Hubs Is Back at Work!

JA went back to work yesterday.  Amazing how we survived for 7 months of BOTH of us being unemployed.  Though I did work for a few hellacious months in hell, we made it!

JA got his job reinstated with nothing changed.  This means salary, benefits, hours, same schedule and seniority.   He is now trying to find out if he can get back pay for the months he was gone.  I don’t see why he couldn’t but corporate will see it differently I am sure.  He was found by the arbitrator to be in the right and even the corporate lawyer (was father owns the company, isn’t that nice?) had some sympathy for his unjust firing.

I worry though since he did have the major heart attack prior to the unjust firing and jumping back into a physical job can not be easy.

I on the other hand am feeling rather down and lonely.  Lonely because, well I am now here all alone again.  I feel like there are no jobs out there that appeal to me.  I don’t want to rush into another job just for the sake of a job.  I went through hell and back my last two jobs and I want to work in an environment I like, in which I don’t feel bullied, harassed and unappreciated.  I feel my worth to a company is good and I want to be respected.

In good news, we found out our insurance company will pay for a new roof.  It is about time!  Nearly EVERY SINGLE HOME in my part of the neighborhood has a new roof due to a couple of major hail storms that passed through here.  I have mentioned the winds around here also get very strong (and very scary).  The first adjustor said we had minimal damage?   WTH?!!!!  My roof is leaking immediately after the hail and there is not enough damage?  Did she not look around at the new roofs on nearly 90% of the homes?  Did she really think the hail spared our home above all the others?  The second adjustor met with a roofer of our choice and spent a great deal of time looking over the whole roof and the garage.

I love picking out shingles!  Now all we have to do is wait for our mortgage company to let us know how to get the insurance check to them and have them sign and return it.  They have been nothing but jerks to us and I am sure they will be jerks about this too.  Nothing with them has ever gone easy for us.

Gotta run.  Hubby is home and we are going to chill out.  Maybe even go and check on Mama Duck.

 

 

 

Little Miss Thang at Target.

Well someone obviously was put out that she was working and not partaking in underage alcohol consumption at the big St. Patrick’s Day parade downtown.

I knew there was going to be issues when I was next in line and she acted like I was not there.   She said nothing to me.  Not one damn word!  No hello, no how are you, did not even tell me how much I owed.  Nothing.  No eye contact either…even when I looked away from the credit card machine for a second and did not press the “no cash back” button fast enough for her.  At that point she rolled her eyes , took a deep sigh and stepped up on her tippy toes and looked at the machine screen – not me).  As if to say, “You are so stupid, customer.  Hurry it up already wontcha?!!!”.

When I was leaving I hoped she would at least say goodbye even though I knew she was beyond that in her head.  She didn’t.  So I told her she really could have said at least hello.  That earned me another .

Then I took my cart and went straight to customer service.     Got some glances too, I mean I was THAT mad!

At first I got a manager.  She listened, looked over to see who I was talking about, got a glimpse of the tart and immediately got the BIG Manager.

So “It’s all about me” diva that you think you are – well your bad day is going to get worse.  Much, much, much worse.  Your managers were not delighted in your ‘tude.  They seemed genuinely concerned.

It takes a lot to get me that pissed off.  Even more so to complain.  I have other things to worry about that are more important.  But for some reason so really set me off.

I hope they fired her ass and she cried all day.

PS.  Why is this post all wonky?

That’s It! Gloves Came Off. I Am Being a Bitch.

I amazed myself how quickly I allowed a text from my brother enrage me this morning.  Within seconds I texted back with a very bitchy message.

In so many words I told him I am fed up with his “imagined” problems and have had ENOUGH!

Then I told him to stop worrying our parents about his worrying.  My dad’s health is not that great since he was so sick in September.  When Dad worries, it affects his health tremendously.

Normally I don’t say things like that to The Brother.  But enough already.  My brother gets a worry stuck up his ass and can not let it go.  Literally.  It consumes him to the point he completely and I do mean completely goes off the deep end.

He takes it to the point that he sometimes has to drugged up with meds (been there, done that), see a shrink and admitted to the psych ward because he starts talking about doing himself in.  Not kidding.  (do not for one moment I am taking that last part lightly.  I take it very seriously)  His brain is hard-wired to be like this.  It is really hard on his wife and our family.  We rally around him and he still won’t let it go.

He started last week with one simple text.  “I applied for a new job.”

See the word “job” coming from him sets alarms off for all family members.  He is so obsessed with being the breadwinner that the obsession completely, fully controls his every thought and action.  It is not normal.

So when my brother starts to worry about his job,  it is The Only Thing He Can Think About.  Which means all else is tuned out.  And he makes life for everyone around him a living hell.

Everything.  EVERYTHING FUCKING THING!!!  His home, his family, his wife, his entire world.  All he can think about his his god damn job.  And whether or not he is going to loose the damn fucking job.  Last year he misinterpreted an email from his boss.  His boss merely mentioned that some jobs would be requiring some training in the new year to keep up with technology.

My brother interpreted that to being he was being downsized.  The chaos and crap that ensued was horrible for the rest of us. Not one thing we said got through to him.  He was so sure that he was going to loose his job, loose his home and loose his kids.  Extreme.  I know but that is how he deals with things.  He has no mechanism with dealing with stress.  He just looses it.

Keep in mind, he is deaf.  He has an extra capacity of being able to tune the world out.  Completely tune it out like a hearing person can not tune out.  He retreats into a self-made cocoon and it is impenetrable.

Turns out he did not read the attachment to that email and missed important info.

So, at last weeks birthday party, talking to him was like talking to a wall.  All conversations started with him was returned with a blank stare on his part and a slight nod of the head.  I finally told him that I knew he was not paying attention to anything.  He said that I was right.  That he was worried about his job.

See, he heard that his department, data entry, someday will be phased out to a new form of technology.  That combined with an upcoming meeting and yep!

He is going to his bad place again.  This time I am not going to be suckered into that again.  I am hitting him between the eyes with some hard ass reality.  Being nice, kind, supportive just seems to fuel this mess.

So is my sister.  We have to protect our parents health.

The text that set me off was simply this, “So I thought Nate (his 14 year old son) could get a job.  But Becky (his wife) says he has to be 16.”

Like his wife lied or something.  I texted him back that why is he questioning his wife and how here he goes again.  Job talk.  I asked him why that is the only thing he ever texts me about.  Why does any other topic I bring up gets ignored?  Just him and jobs.

He has not answered my last text.

UPDATE!

Apparently he thinks it is ok because he texted about his son getting a job and not him.  He doesn’t get it.  The topic is still about jobs.  I texted back and mentioned that there are more important things in life and why is he even bringing that up in the first place.   Then I hit him with, “Why do you only talk about jobs?   Why have you not responded to my texts involving other subjects, such as Dad’s health?”

Again, no response.  See?  If I go off the topic of jobs, he just…whatever.  You see what I mean?

Celebs vs Trailer Trash Mama

• RIP Andy Rooney.  I loved your humor and style.  Too sad that your passing happened so soon after you retired.
• I AM SICK OF THE KARDASHIANS!  Kardashians Fardashians.  So fake.  So unbelieveable.  So wrong in so many ways.  I say Kim’s faux pas has caused the empire to lean dangerously in the wrong direction.  Already the bashing has become epic.
• I love me a good Hollywood gossip story.
• Maybe that is why I love the Trailer Trash Mama drama so much.  It is like watching this stuff on TV only better because it is live and there is always something going on over there.

Not kidding.  I have a pretty good view of their house from my kitchen window.  Sometimes I feel as if that window were a TV and the channel is set to TTM Drama 24/7.  At any give time something might be happening.  Does not matter the day or time of day.

For instance.  Even though the Trio of Terror has been spotted regularly (interpret that to mean so is allowed visitation now), she has still been seen coming home at all hours of the night with her menfolk.  The sight of her in different make out sessions can not be unseen.  That is one drawback of looking out that window.  Sometimes things happen over there and the sight is unavoidable. Things you do not want to witness happen and are burned into our retina’s forever.

At least she is consistent.

 

 

Estate Sale Baraccudas

I slept late.  Late for me is 8:07  What woke me up is the repeated sound of car doors opening and closing.  Voices.  Voices and more voices.  And my dog going apeshit.

What the hell?

Then I notice that there are all kinds of cars racing up and down my otherwise quiet street.  Cars parked in front of my house.  I live on a corner and no one ever parks in front of my house.  It is just a logic thing because of the stop sign.

Not today.  Hell, they are even parked in front of the stop sign.  As if it does not exist.

That is when I notice “Estate Sale” signs on my tree lawns.  !!!

First of all, it would be nice to have been asked about the signs.  I don’t know why, but people assume it is always ok to put signs on my corner without asking.  And I don’t know this bothers me a great deal.  I mean, when I toss furniture to the curb for garbage pickup, I don’t run to my neighbors and post signs that say, “Free Garbage!”.

Back to these estate sale hunters.  OMFG!  They drive like maniacs!  They really are of a different breed around here.  The stop sign truly does not exist.  The average speed seems to be 40 MPH!  You have to really punch it to make it up our short street to go that fast!  I am glad none of our cars are parked on the street today.  I am also glad my kids are out of the skateboard phase since they probably would have been run down by now.

JA and I are going to grab a cup of coffee and watch the show.  I will report back later.

UPDATE:  (first drove my son’s Integra and got the Vtec to work!  He was impressed)

Ok.  Here is what I have learned.

The Estate Baraccuda’s not only fly up and down the street, they also vie for the best parking spot.  You can tell there are some professional Estate Baraccudas for sure.  They were there lined up and ready to go PRIOR to the sale.  That is the noise that woke me up.  A lot of them have the old SUV’s and vans.  I suspect this is just for transporting the goods home without worrying about damage to the ride.  Ok.  So the parking competition is down pat.  Then they practically run to the sale.  Which is kinda odd to me seeing that the average EB is elderly and seemingly frail when getting in and out of their vehicles.

They also work in pairs.  Some go in together and one or two stay behind.  I think that is to assist in a fast get away.  Most likely to hit up the next estate sale.

They leave the sale just as fast as they blew in.

UPDATED UPDATE:

The nuts continue to pour in.  The also like to park facing the wrong direction.  Where are the cops now?

I hear a lot of whooping an a hollerin’ right now.

I never realized how quiet my street usually is.  More cars have come and gone then the average for an entire day.

Why is pregnant cat#2 and the only male cat sparring right now?

New “Got Milk?” ad. Oh Yeah? Then F.U.!

So go here to view it.

Now, for someone who is sitting here experiencing all the lovely nuances of PMS THIS VERY MINUTE, I can tell you this ad is the most insulting and moronic piece of advertising crap I have seen in a long time.

Let’s dissect this shall we?

• Advertisement:  the action of making generally known; a calling to the attention of the public
• I consider myself one of “the public” and my husband is too.  Though I am not sure which one of us is the main target here.
• Let’s assume it is the man who is the target since I don’t know one single women who would say, “Oh REALLY?  You mean if I drink more milk, my PMS will go away like magic and my hubby, BF, whoever…, is going to be sooooooo much happier because my PMS is gone?  You’re kidding me!  Wellgoddamnamit!!!  I am going to buy some Milk!”  As if I will purchase and drink the milk for their own good?
• Really?
• This is what the California Milk Processor Board believes goes through a woman’s mind?  Especially a woman in my situation this very minute, which means bloated, irritable (was not too irritable until I saw this ad BTW) and in my case, in pain so severe that I feel I am being cut to ribbons by a razor, really, really, really thinks this ad is going to convince me to run out to the store and by Milk?
• According to the dictionary, the advertisement is therefore calling to my attention and generally making it known that Milk is going to help me with my PMS.
• If you want my opinion, I think it actually seems drinking milk is  going to “help” my husband more then myself.

Now let us peek into the ad itself.

How nifty!  Kook!  The men get to ask questions!

I took it upon myself to ask my own question on JA’s behalf because JA is smart.  JA really truly understands my PMS and is not boorish about AT ALL.

Here is the answer.

You got that right buster!

PMS:  I meant PS!  giggle

PS:  I HATE milk and have not drank any since the day the twins were born and that was 7,759 days ago.

Kittens though.  Kittens really do help.  And I happen to have my own supply of kittens.  I am going to get my kitten fix right now.

Here is another pic for you kitten loving women buds of mine.