See, here's the other thing

There are actualy good reasons for why I'm giving this job another six months. The main thing is something I can't so much talk about here, but is something that could potentially make things temporarily a lot worse and then rather quickly infinitely better, but the results won't be seen for at least 6 months. The other thing is plans that I've made that would be awkward to go through with if I switch jobs right this second. Regardless, I'm staying with the company because the company makes me happy and is so large that I could get a totally new job without ever having to leave it. Totally new career, even. But for the next six month, the job stays as is.

Anyway, this week went from bad to worse.

JM's dad died on Tuesday night, after having suffered a pretty major slide downhill. She got to spend a good week or so with him when he was in the hospital, so she's at peace with it, but it is still very sad. Her mother passed away years ago, so there's a special pain to this. The family is gathering the proverbial wagons, and tomorrow morning I'll be flying up to San Jose with the moms and then meeting up with JM's sister before hitting the road for Turlock (which a coworker just told me is literally teeming with Assyrians; it is apparently Assyrian City according to her).

Funerals suck. Funerals for family members suck more. Going to funerals and not having my husband with me because he is still a temp and gets no paid time off sucks the most.

In which I share a smidge of my misery

See, here's the thing.

I tend to ramble about things when I come here, things that are going on in my life. But I try not to ramble in too much detail about certain things, like family dramas and fights with friends who read this blog or fights with my husband because dude, our dirty laundry does not need to be aired. And I definitely don't get too detailed about my job because hello, it's my job. And I would like to not lose it.

At least not unless I'm losing it on my terms. But I digress.

Right now the only thing of note that is happening in my life is that my job is driving me crazy. Crazy to the point of needing anti-anxiety pills soon. I am absolutely miserable right now and for the past two days I've had to convince myself not to just leave. Just walk out and not tell anyone.

My job is making me miserable, which makes me just like millions of other folks.

I don't think my boss realizes how close he is to losing me. Seriously, I'm thinking maybe another six months. If I am this miserable in six more months then I think I'll be looking for a transfer.

In other news, my dreams have been wild lately. The other night in my dream, I slept with my exboyfriend just because I was bored and when he asked me if we would be together now since he and his wife were miserable together, I pretty much laughed and said no way in hell because my husband is awesome and I was just bored and fucking with his head. Last night, I dreamt that my hair started falling out in huge chunks and I was developing a shiny bald head; I was surprisingly calm about it, as was Kevin. I guess in my dreams, bald is sexy.

Anyway, I'm going to go have my daily tear supression moment now. Fun for the whole family!

Only I could make Las Vegas sound this boring

So Vegas was awesome, as usual. I noticed that there is a plethora of penny slots these days, even at the more upscale hotels like the Bellagio and the Venetian. If that's not a comment on today's economy, I don't know what is.

Anyway, there was a lot of sloth going on this weekend. We sat around and waited for the Pratts to show up after their Flight From Hell. Pratt and the lovely Maria spent 8 hours on their plane, which was literally longer than we were on our plane to Costa Rica. Luckily for them, when they arrived at our palatial abode (which was on the 33rd floor so every time we went up or down in the elevator my ears were popping), we had booze to share while sitting around and talking while listening to the low roar of motorcycles cruising the Strip (Bikefest was this weekend, dontcha know).

Saturday morning meant a breakfast of Cocoa Puffs while watching cartoons on a gigantic plasma screen HDTV with Bose surround sound. That was kind of awesome. Then we went and had lunch with the Pratts and the lovely Mary Ann, who flew out from Phoenix just for the day. I declined a chance to go get my geek on at the Star Trek Experience and chose instead to go back to the room and lay on the couch and read trashy chick magazines. Seriously, the room was so awesome that tromping around Las Vegas had no appeal to me. Besides, I had to rest up a bit for a wild night of playing slot machines and drinking martinis. I had way more fun playing the fantastic "It's My Party" penny slot...at one point I won like $7. And then I spent it all. I was a HIGH ROLLER, let me tell you. What can I say, I'm a sucker for cute cartoon animals. Want to steal all my money? Dangle some cute animals in my face.

Anyway, we came home yesterday and by the time I went to bed I had a weird rash starting on my legs. I woke up yesterday with big red blotches on my legs, a matching one on my underarm, a random measely looking rash on my arm and all kinds of itching. So today I've been mainlining children's Benadryl every three hours to try and get the horrible badness to go away. The only thing I can think of that might have caused it is the swanky Crabtree & Evelyn body wash that I used on Sunday morning. Blech. It seems to be going away though.

Thank god, because dude, the last thing I need to do is walk around the office looking like a leper.

This room is probably too nice for us

Okay, seriously folks. The place we're staying is nicer than our apartment. And also bigger than our apartment.

The funny thing is that we totally went to the wrong place at first because we didn't realize that we were going to the super duper brand new and actually right on the strip version of the Hilton Grand Vacations Club. The very nice man at the other one we went to said "Oh, you want to go to the OTHER one. You'll like it better, it's brand new."

Well all righty then.

Inlaid tile floors. Cuisanart cookware in the full kitchen. Free Starbucks coffee to brew. Gorgeous whirlpool tub surrounded by more inlaid tile. Oh, and a gigantic flat screen TV with surround sound in the living room of the suite.

And the topper? We're on one of the "penthouse levels." We're on the 33rd floor, people. I can see my house from here.

And now we are off to load up on booze so that we can make a bucketful of margaritas for the Pratts, who called me earlier to tell me that they had been stuck on a plane on a runway for two hours and we have no idea when they might get here. They will need many drinks to recover.

I just needs drinks to accept the awesomeness of our room.

Now with 50% less sense-making

My bra is making my left boob look horribly deformed, my husband does not exist in the eyes of the local cable company, I just sent an FSA claim in that included a receipt for both birth control pills AND condoms, and I have developed an unnatural love for SlimFast Optima Muffin Bars.

That one sentence pretty much sums up my life right now. Both boring and amusing, all at once. Neat trick, isn't it? Let's break it down a little a call it an entry.

My bra is making my left boob look horribly deformed.
I have two of these fantasic "push 'em up and out" bras that I got from Lane Bryant recently, and the secret to their tremendous power are these nifty plastic air pockets which bear an uncanny resemblance to the ones used to cushion the office supplies I order (our supplier has a habit of sending one box of file folders in a bigger box and them filling it with air pillows; I have no idea why but the big boxes doe come in handy). Now, while I do appreciate the lifting power of the little plastic inserty things, they're also sort of annoying. They make my boobs overheat since air can't get through them, and on occasion, they shift and the air all goes to one side and I end up with this weird lump thing that makes me look like my boob is deformed. And today is one of those occasions. Bah.

My husband does not exist in the eyes of the local cable company.
We decided it was time to finally pony up and get cable since we are finally caught up enough with bills that we have a smidge extra every month (and also, I was tired of watching Lost and Grey's Anatomy through snow), so we hopped online and ordered it. We put it in Kevin's name since I kind of included a bill from them in my bankruptcy and they frown on allowing people like me to sign up with them again. Imagine our surprise when they sent us an email saying that Kevin had to put down a deposit and show two forms of ID before they would even schedule the install! Turns out that his social security number gave them no hits on their (we're assuming) local credit check system and they have no proof he exists so he has to go prove it.

Maybe we should put at least one of the utility bills in his name, you think?

I just sent an FSA claim in that included a receipt for both birth control pills AND condoms.
I can only imagine that the receipt will make the FSA processor chuckle and think that I am seriously afraid of getting pregnant and am doing whatever I can to prevent that. This is turn makes me wonder what the expression was on the drugstore clerk's face when he rang Kevin up for these purchases.

Eh, the clerk probably just figured that Kevin was going to cheat with some dirty whore that he had to protect himself from in order to keep having unprotected sex with the woman the pills were for.

I have developed an unnatural love for SlimFast Optima Muffin Bars.
Seriously, these things are freaking AWESOME. Don't ask what I'm doing eating SlimFast snack bars, just know that their muffin bars? Are awesome as well as low in calories.

In other news, my assistant is coming back aprt time on the 25th (yay!), we're redistributing admin responsibilities in a way that will both make things easier for me and nudge me into more of a manager position (yay?), and I only have to work one more day this week (hoo-fuckin'-ray!!!)