Hanging on to my sanity

Dear Jefe,

I know you didn’t notice my meltdown yesterday because you were too busy changing every insignificant detail of your presentation. You barely noticed the fact that I was still in the office more than two hours after I should have left, and you actually left before me. I’m sure you had to hurry off to an econ class, as well.

I don’t mind making changes. I actually enjoy working on these presentations because they’re good exposure to all of the surveys we do and the information we collect. What I don’t like is how you still don’t understand that every time you say, “Let’s just put an extra space in there,” it means more than the five seconds of work you think it’ll take. Every time you ask me to create a new chart, I have to do it from scratch, and that takes time. Sometimes, with the things you ask, I think you think that PowerPoint is magic, or that I am, but neither is true.

Though I’ll take the compliment.

I have tried to explain to you that I am working as fast as I can, and trying to accommodate your every whim. Please understand this.

And next time, if you could let me know about any changes before the day you’re supposed to leave for a conference, it would really help with me keeping my sanity.

I don’t think my benefits cover crazy.

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I like surprises, but NOT like this

There’s nothing quite so disconcerting in the morning – as you’re walking around, getting ready – as seeing men outside your windows.

Especially when you live on the seventh floor.

Particularly when you tend to get ready in the buff. (I mean, that’s part of why I live on my own in the first place.)

The thing is, I’d seen the cables and window washer-esque things along the side of the building for a while now. But never any men. And management, up to this point, has always let us know when that kind of maintenance is going on. You know, so we can be dressed.

The caption for this photo said, "It’s not often I look up to see someone outside the window of our tenth floor apartment..." Exactly how I felt...

This time? Nothing. And if I’m being honest, it wasn’t just disconcerting, but a little scary, too. I live in a studio. There aren’t many places to hide, save the bathroom. And camping out there makes it extremely difficult to put my lunch together.

Once I realized, however, that whatever they were doing to my windows was resulting in dust and debris being blown inside my apartment, those feelings morphed into straight pissed off-ed-ness.

I may not dust or clean as often as I should, but I really don’t need any help making my apartment messier. And I don’t need you (yes, you, maintenance) breaking my window frames so that flies can get in and hang out. Or knocking out my window screens so that keeping the windows open isn’t a viable option when I’m not home.

Don’t get me wrong. I love the building and the management, and I’ve generally had a great experience. And I’m grateful for everything you’ve done until now.

But please stop fucking up my windows.

And, while you’re at it, a little heads up would be nice next time. I pay good money to have my own apartment so that I can walk around naked as I please, and I’ll be damned if you take that away from me.

Just so we’re clear.

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That’s why her hair is so big. It’s full of secrets.

I was all set to have a great day today. I woke up early – on my own, no alarm. I walked to work in this gorgeous weather, and even made it in early. The girl whose work I’ve been covering brought me in an entire case of diet coke (I’m addicted) as a thank you. It was shaping up to be a good day, indeed.

And then El Jefe had to step in about 15 minutes into the work day and blame me for oversights that I was not responsible for, but that he’d rather pin on me than on my supervisor. And because of said oversight, he felt the need to reprimand me for a lack of attention to detail, when I’ve actually been working my ass off for the past three years to pay attention to details that he doesn’t even recognize.

But I digress.

Since I don’t think I could formulate a full post without ranting (any more than I already have), I leave you with a video (that I shamelessly stole from a friend‘s Facebook page).

I’m not sure how I feel about Aurora as Regina George (Sleeping Beauty is my favorite), but overall, I love it.

I’m a mouse. Duh.

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Sometimes there’s no right side of the bed to wake up on

Have you ever woken up in one of those moods where you just know that you shouldn’t be around people when you feel like that? Where you’re constantly thinking, don’t you dare look at me in that tone of voice? And god forbid someone ask you what’s wrong.

That was me yesterday.

And so I sat at my desk all day with my headphones in, attempting minimal interaction with coworkers, so as not to offend anyone with my ‘tude. And I counted down to 5:30, while also fearing that I was crazy for being such a mood for no discernible reason.

This morning?

Well, I actually look a lot more like that photo (a night out after a softball game will do that), but the cranky is gone. Thank god. I can actually be social and friendly and not stare daggers at anyone who crosses me. Which really just makes for a better work environment all around.

But, should the cranky come back, I’m curious – what do you do if you have a mood you just can’t shake?

I’m pretty sure it was the alcohol last night that killed this one, but I don’t want to have to bank on that.

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Damn, that is a sweet Earth

In case you, like me, are amazed that a four day week could take so freaking long to get to Friday, here’s a little usher-in-the-weekend treat repeat.

I’ve shared it before (you’d probably seen it even before that), but it’s one of my solid go-to videos when I’m slightly on the cranky side, and can’t decide whether I want a nap or a drink.

Fucking kangaroos.

Happy Friday!

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How to combat the cranky

Despite the fact that I’ve had an excellent week (sports and otherwise), I still hit a few patches of cranky, where cracking a smile just seemed like it was too much work and so not worth it.

Luckily, I have friends who know just what will make me smile. Even when I think I don’t want to.

Exhibit A:

And if that weren’t enough…

Exhibit B:

Absolutely phenomenal.

Happy Friday!

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I like things that go boom as much as the next girl, but there’s a time and a place

“What’s the best time for low, sustained, booming noises?”

“Ah, low, sustained, booming noises. About 9:00, 9:15.”

Apartment Building Management, please heed Steve Martin’s advice. I’ll even grant you an extra hour of working time, but there is no reason to start whatever it is that you’re doing before 8am.

• I don’t like waking up to booming noises and not knowing where they’re coming from.

• Actually, I don’t like being woken up by booming noises, period.

• It disturbs me to be in the shower when it sounds like someone is about to slam through my wall.

• And it throws me when I’m in the kitchen and all of a sudden I hear a crash, and I try to scan my apartment quickly to make sure it’s none of my belongings.

I know it sounds like I’m being high maintenance here, but we should be able to work something out. Perhaps a warning note next time?

Or just a later start.

Because early morning booming noises make me just a wee bit cranky, and cranky is not a good look for me.

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A little pick-me-up

I know it’s Friday. I know the weekend’s right around the corner (or, in approximately 8 hours, but who’s counting?). But for some, inexplicable reason, I am cranky. Like, why-are-you-talking-to-me-at-all-go-away cranky.

So, in an effort to laugh, or at least not look like a sourpuss at work all day, I turned to YouTube. And I pulled up this classic gem.

And because even when I’m cranky I’m a giver, I bring you the remix.

I don’t know why I find this so funny…but it’s working for now.

Happy weekend!

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Can’t catch a break

This past week felt like I was burning the candle at both ends. I was constantly exhausted, stressed and, quite honestly, a little cranky. I’d already decided to take today off as a mental health day.

And then I realized that it wasn’t just for mental health, but that all the stress and exhaustion has actually manifested itself into something bigger. I’m actually legit sick. Complete with the stuffed-up-can’t-breathe-ness and the hacking cough that makes people run for the Purel. So attractive.

I wanted to use my mental health day to both be productive and relax – preferably in the park, in the sun. As it is, it might be a while before I even leave my bed. Thanks a lot, God.

Appreciate it.

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