After you read here- I have some new Shoe Porn for you here!
It’s my last week in the 8-5 rat race. After Thursday, I don’t have to play SUV bumper cars on the highway trying to get to work. No more muscling my way past the slow idiots in the fast lane and playing chicken with the semis that won’t let me merge to sweet freedom and my exit from the freeway. No more slow limp home as I try to motivate the poor bastards who have a nagging wife and troop of screaming monkey kids to look forward to when they get home. The ones that try hard to make the rest of us miserable because they won’t move the fuck out of everyone elses way. Seriously, if you have no reason waiting for you to get home- a reason you are so excited about that you’re tail gating and indiscriminately flipping the bird to random drivers- because all you want to do is get there- then you need to adjust course and maybe do a little soul-searching while you are on the shoulder of the freeway. Not the freaking passing lane. And not in front of me. I will go all Mad Max on your bumper.
Today I had big plans to get through the shit ton of emails in my inbox. One hundred seventy-six to be exact. New I wants, I needs and pushed onto my plates just since Friday. All right universe- a challenge I see. I start going through them busting ass to get each done and then move it to the appropriate file so whomever the poor sucker that replaces me is- will not have a shit attack trying to figure out where everything is filed. I restocked all of the office supplies and ordered back ups, programmed the giant printer that is one cell of DNA away from being a Transformer and relabeled my files so if New Person can read they can find what they need. Seriously- I wasn’t even on my bloggity today. If you suffered from bitch fest withdrawals, well you can just thank my employer. Imagine my surprise when some Jackhole cruises over to say, “You’re not busy today are you Short Timer- you’re just burning time”. What part of my hair up in a clip, a stack of empty fucking files on my desk, a label maker and reading glasses screams “not busy”? So I somewhat politely point to my desk and say, “Nope , not busy. Thought it would be fun to tear my desk apart and put it back together because I have nothing better to do”. To which I hear, “You could clean out the refrigerators up stairs”. Uh oh, y’all. Double fucking run for you life uh-oh. I will not kill him, I will not kill him….show him mercy at least until Thursday afternoon.
Homicide diverted by the thought of spending July 4th in the slammer and onward through the list of forty new people to on board, set up training and accounts for. Then I make the mistake of taking a quick coffee break. I decide to check my Face Book for a little social media fix- where I update it with a battle cry of sorts. Yes, I like that particular battle cry update so much that I copy/paste it over to the SC Face Book. It essentially says- look at me- only four fucking days of slave camp left! So I go about the business of getting the accounts set up. One by one- each subsequent account making me more irritable and tired. Know what will make this task easier? Copy and paste will. After three solid hours of constant posting I am done. Now they are blissfully off to the Business Manager to approve and then maybe I can go hug my bloggity and say a few cuss words. Enter the Business Manager with a print out and a look on his face that I can’t decide is a suppressed smile or gas. He must be here to give me a giant gold star for getting through that monster list so quickly! Nope. He asks me to go make a few changes before he approves my tickets and the entire world sees them- there seems to be a typo of sorts. You bet – what do I need to change you ask? Any guesses?