Warning: Super Long Post

Quote du Jour:
Et tu, Brute?
–Julius Caesar, Act 3, Scene I

Fall is in full force for sure now. Finally Mother Nature has given us a break from the heat. It’s nice here. About 45 degrees F as I write this. I love this weather. I can pull out my favorite boots and my favorite sweaters! And my new boots should be on their way shortly.

What a weekend and end of week. Friday was literally from hell. I’m usually a very calm person, but when things go wrong, they REALLY go wrong. For the purpose of this blog entry, I’m calling the person I’m going to talk about Hilda since it’s work related and I really don’t want to completely bash her. Even though she a Class A Bitch Right From Hell. Even though she completely deserves to be bashed. Right in the head with a blunt object.

With the Administrative Assistant on vacation (to Hawaii!) and IT Guy out at a company function, I was left to brave the horrid Executive Corner Of The World all alone. Normally, this is not a problem. Friday, it was a problem.

It all began when I started to print 260 tabs. I figured I could get it done in half a day. Boy was I wrong on that account. When I began Printing In Tab World, I sent out an email to the office asking people to please not print to the color printer as we have several deadlines. Of course Hilda bustles up to my desk demanding to know what I’m printing. After looking at her like she’s stoned, I tell her in my best monotone, “Tabs.” And when she asks me why the printer squeaks (it just DOES…especially when it gets hot) my response is, “Because it does.”

Hey, look, if she’s going to be a Total Bitch to me, why should I be nice? If she can’t be nice enough to ASK me in a civilized tone, then I’m going to be as stubborn as humanly possible and make her life a living hell. So when she asked me to change the toner in the black and white printer, and I retrieved it from locked IT Guy’s office, I put it on the floor under the printer…and shook up the old toner. (Okay, so I eventually changed it but I waited until she was out of the office.)

Oh and PS Hilda throws this at me too: she needs 500 copies of a flyer printed that same day and casually suggested I could maybe print them in batches. :talktohand: Seriously? She IS on crack right? F’ing loon. I sent it out to the local reprographics place and it cost a nice big sum of money (as if I cared). Like our dilapidated color printer can even HANDLE that anyway.

Moving on.

In the midst of my Battle of Wills with Bitch Right From Hell, I had a sudden horrifying realization. I had printed 120 tabs…all with a typo on each and every page. HORROR of HORRORS. After my initial panic subsided, I sat down hard in my chair and tried NOT to throw up. I would have to reprint 120 tabs that took no less than two hours to print. THE HORROR.

I wanted to kill myself. I wanted to just fall on a sword (as Sysenlaw says). Put myself out of my complete and utter misery and just f’ing kill myself.

And then I realized I just may not have enough tabs. Are you bored with this ridiculous story yet? If you’ve read this far, CONGRATULATIONS! Anyway… Thankfully, I had enough tabs, I reprinted the wrong ones, and I managed to get them all done by exactly quitting time. It was definitely a day.

Saturday was not much better, believe it or not. After getting to bed SUPER late, Husband text messages me at 6:30 Saturday morning (and here I was thinking I could sleep in a little) announcing he’s on an earlier flight home from Denver. Which meant I had to drag my sorry ass out of bed much earlier than I wanted to, dash to the airport (NO COFFEE), pick him up and then get back home. Had to get kiddo ready for his birthday party – which, incidentally – he developed a severe case of shyness and we got stuck there with eight 4-yr-olds. Including my one who refused to get his head out of my chest. Sooo… finally after an hour of this, he loosened up enough to go play with the other kids and had a great time.

THEN we go to a cook out to a local municipal airport to see the unveiling of a new $350K airplane. Which really is code for I get abandoned and ignored while he talks airplane crapola for the next two hours. And did he think to introduce to me any of these people? Of course not. There was only one time where he flippantly referred to me as “the wife”. I was so disgusted and annoyed I just didn’t want to even discuss it. We did – mostly by arguing and I got accused of “never taking part” (Um…hello…when was airplanes an interest of MINE? Like never…). I still think it was rude and obnoxious and I equate it to this: what if I took him to some writing gig (conference, meeting, whatever) and did the same thing to him? What if I just didn’t acknowledge him and referred to him as “the husband” and never even bothered to introduce him to anyone? Wonder how he’d feel then? And then of course the argument goes from me being ignored and treated like an unimportant piece of shit to how he just “does everything” around the house.

Excuse me??? Who the :censored: does he think does all the laundry? The dishes? Makes sure the kiddo has his bath, his stuff prepared for school, packs his lunches, picks up the :censored: socks on the bedroom floor? Cleans the toilets? Picks up the toys? I could go on, but why? When so CLEARLY I do nothing but sit on my ass and eat bon-bons and read a book. Whatever. (So I’m not the best housekeeper in the world, but I refuse to be Susie Homemaker when I have a lot more important things to do. Like blog and write.)

So I did what any self-respecting mother/wife would do. I got on the phone and called up my dear sweet friend and met her for coffee. And realized that (thankfully) I am not alone. But I also realized that over the last seven years, I don’t know who I am anymore. I’ve morphed into being a mother and a wife and lost my identity somewhere along the way. It doesn’t help that I have a 100% co-dependent husband who wants me in his hip pocket 24/7. Well… you know what? There’s about to be a shake up in his little world. THIS girl is about to gain her individuality back. And it AIN’T gonna be pretty.

Anyhoo… I feel better after getting some much needed girl time this afternoon. I needed it. I needed my coffee. But I get home to find that my son seems to have developed an ear infection. Which means I’ll be visiting the doctor’s office first thing Monday morning. And, for the record, I felt like a bad mother coming home (after nearly two hours of fun) to find my son sick.

And DAMN this was like the Longest Post Ever. If you’ve read this far…thank you for reading my rant. Now back to your regularly scheduled blog.

By Michelle

I wish you all could be inside my head. The conversation is sparkling.