I already hate my job, so I’ve been applying for new jobs. My boss is crazy and I think there’s some illegal activity going on. The new girl, TB, is still coughing all over me. Today I opened my email to see that a new job opportunity has been sent. Coincidence?
Disease Intervention services for the Health Department’s TB Program
I’ve been amusing myself by changing my computer background picture at home all the time to suit my mood and baffle my husband. It’s become a fun passive-agressive adventure.
When we returned from a mini-vacation I had a loving smiling picture of the two of us on a river cruise. This lasted for about a week or so. After the vacation bliss I was stressed at work and life, so I changed the picture to a black and white close up of a woman screaming.
His response was, “What is that?”
My answer was, “A picture of a woman screaming.”
He said no more.
A week later when I was frustrated that my husband seemed to live in Fantasy Land vs the real world, I put a picture of a unicorn on my computer. That really cracked me up, but he didn’t get it.
Then last week after working all day, when I came home to a dirty house and I swept and mopped all the floors, fed the animals, folded towels and emptied the dishwasher, I changed my computer picture to Cinderella in rags scrubbing the floor.
He still doesn’t get it.
We sent the kids off Saturday night and decided to go to a new chain restaurant, sports bar that opened up. I was surrounded by TV hell. I already knew there would be TV’s everywhere, and I didn’t have a problem with that.
But there was a TV on our table. We sat down and it was blasting the news, right between our faces. (I could have stayed home if I wanted to hear that!) We tried to turn it off, but couldn’t figure out how.
I asked the waitress to turn it off, and she goes, “Turn it OFF ?????” Like she’s never heard of that before. She said she can change the channel or turn it down but she can’t turn it off because, “We don’t turn off our TV’s.”
They may not turn off their TV’s but I sure as hell could. I managed to find the plug and unplugged it.
When the waitress came back, she told me that I wasn’t allowed to do that. I told her I couldn’t hear her, because I was deaf from the TV blasting in my ear. A few minutes later, the manager came out and told me customers are not allowed to touch the TV’s. I informed him that if he ever wants to see another woman in his place again, he’d better start making exceptions. He left.
My husband sat there, not saying a word. Coward.
My husband and I just got into a fight about Newt.
I said, “Please tell me you don’t listen to a guy who left his wife while she had cancer, and of course because he cheated on her.”
He was yelling, “That’s not true! He didn’t do that!”
I said, “Let’s google it.”
So I googled it, and he was like, “I don’t believe anything on there!”
I said, “Well do you believe the NY Times, the Boston Herald, USA today, the NY Post, CBS News….”
He said, “NO!”
He only believes Rush Limbaugh and shit like that. He got so mad that he turned off the tv and called me a socialist and stomped off to his bedroom.
The new office girl that I’ve been calling TB has this very odd quality to her… Some days she looks like a pretty girl, and other days she looks not so pretty, or even homely. I never know which girl is going to show up. It reminded me of a Seinfeld episode, and I was right — I just found the clip. They call her “a two face”.
I am completely exhausted from working this job. All I wanted to do on Saturday was take a nap before we went out… and it went a little something like this:
“Honey, I’m really tired. I’m going to try to take a nap so we can go out tonight.”
He’s almost passed out on the recliner. I think I’m safe. I lie down. I start to doze off.
BAM! BAM! BANG! BAM!
“Why did you decide to put pots and pans away now, of all times! You never do that!”
I try to rest my head again. I begin to doze off.”
“HEY!!! How are you DOING?! YEAH, it’s been one HELL of a week HERE!”
For god’s sakes. Now he’s on the phone. YELLING!!!!
“Do you really have to talk so loud?” I ask.
Back to bed… dozing, dozing, dozing…
“He’s had two outta three — he’s the best player on the team! YES HE IS THE BEST!!!”
I get up. I yell.
“Are you kidding me!!! Why is it when I try to nap you have to make a racket out of everything? Why can’t you let me SLEEP!!!”
“Oh, I thought you did sleep. You’ve been laying down for an hour.”
“You think that’s what I’ve been doing for an HOUR? Seriously? Banging and yakking and now your stupid sports blasting?”
“Fine. Next time I’ll leave the house so you can nap.”
That’s more like it!
There’s a new chick at the office. I refer to her as “TB”, because she coughs all over everything all the time, like the homeless people that hang out at the library. She was coughing all over my desk and computer the other day – a gross phlegmy cough – so I used hand sanitizer to clean it off. She says it must be allergies, I say it’s TB.
She can barely answer the phone, so I don’t know what job she’s going to do since her ghetto green fingernails can’t do any typing. I can’t understand why they hired this ho.
Valentine’s Day is for kids and the naive. It is not special when you’ve been married for 15 years. It’s a day to buy candy and cards for the kids, and then clean it all up afterwards.
We stopped celebrating V-Day after the second month of pregnancy. That probably had something to do with me barfing up the entire chocolate dessert at the last nice restaurant we visited. I’ve never been able to eat chocolate cake again.
It must have been my destiny to always have a name that people can poke fun at. My maiden name is polish and difficult to pronounce, so I grew up being the butt of jokes. I thought that when I got married 15 years ago, having a simple name would cure that. I was wrong.
My name isn’t just Anna Jones. It’s Anna B. Jones. Or as some people have pointed out, it’s Anna Banana, Anna B.J., Anna Blowjob. How much do I value my name?
I hate Walmart and never go (maybe once every 2 years). I was annoyed with my husband the other day and needed to get away so I went there and thought ok I’ll just stroll around and see if I can find some crap made in China on sale.
I remembered that we’d discussed getting an underwater camera for the pool. So I went to that section – and they don’t put the cameras out because I guess Walmart customers will steal them? They had a piece of cardboard hanging there, so I ask the sales guy and he’s like, “Ummm… I don’t know it might be back here…” and he takes me to where the sign on the wall says Restrooms and lo and behold the photo section is there – who would know that?
Two more sales clerks later and they hand me a box. I read the box and don’t see anything at all about it being an underwater camera, it just says waterproof.
I ask, “How do you know it’s an underwater camera?”
Blank stare.
I said, “Do you have anything that says it works underwater up to 10 meters or something?”
The guy gets a piece of paper about the camera and he says, “Yeah right here it says 10 feet.”
I said, “Ten feet is not 10 meters.”
He says, “Well it’s close”.
I said, “It’s not remotely close. Ten feet is like 3 meters.”
Blank stare.
I said, “well I’ll just take it and decide when I’m done shopping.”
He says, “No I can’t give it to you. I can hold it or ring it up.”
I said, “I’m not done shopping.”
Blank stare.
I said, “You guys really make this a pain in the ass you know?”
He didn’t care. I told him to keep the camera. I went to check out, and there are maybe 40 registers there and 3 are open with lines a mile long. I get up there and the cashier – wearing sunglasses!! – said, “Did you find everything you need?”
I said, “Are you fucking kidding me?”
He looked stunned.
I said, “Not even close.”
I bought a pack of gum and a card, then walked 68 blocks back to my car. I swear I hate that place.
And you know those emails people send of Walmart shoppers? I always think they’re fake, doctored pictures, but let me tell you I now believe they are 100% real. I could’ve filled up an entire website with strange pictures of how people were dressed there.
I am meditating.
Clickety clack. Clickety clack. Clickety clack. The dog’s nails need cut.
I am meditating.
Vrooom. Vrooom. Mrreeeek. Vrooooom. Damn lawn guys.
I am meditating.
“Honey, can you make me some lunch?”
Evil glare.
“Nevermind.”
I am meditating.
Click. Tick. Tick. Click-tick. Fan needs to be oiled.
I am meditating.
Wooof! Ark! Ark! Woof! Arrrkkk! Arrk! Arrk! Woof! Damn neighbor’s dogs.
I am meditating.
DING DONG!
“Have you accepted Jesus into your life?”
Fuck it. I am medicating!
I got a job. You know, the “real” kind where you have to get dressed and leave the house, sit in traffic, and hate your life by the end of the day? It’s an office job. I’m not sure how I’ll like it, but the work is a no-brainer. I start Monday. I hope I’ll still be able to blog at work. 😉
Now my hubby can stop complaining, right? I wonder how he’s going to feel when the house is a mess and he has no clean underwear. Time will tell.
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Woman Gone Mad 