Attacked

I went into my bedroom, closed the door, and started getting ready for my nightly shower.
What was that?

I spun around midway of rinsing off my face.

Nothing.

I carefully finished washing and then dryed off. I turned around to place the towel back on the rack and there HE was. THERE was the introduded!



At least this is one of the senarios my brain kept fumbling through last night. Being all alone in a big house can scare a girl! I mean, someone really could have come into the house. What if they did? I don't like being bymyself and this why! My mind starts to wander to bad things happening. I get scared. I even slept with the bedroom door closed last night and Lover had to wake me up when he got off work for me to open it for him.

It's just something I have to get use to... I guess.

Is It Safe to Scream?

I know. I am getting a little redundant by repeating the same thing over and over again.

But.

I am truly tired of my job. I am tired of it. Sick of it. If it wasn't for that little (okay not so little) thing called money, I would have quit months ago. Mrs. NHJ is more of a bitch and I just can't take it anymore. Can't. Take. It. Any.More.

Oh I just want to get into the house so that I no longer have to worry about a mortgage company wants a 2 year job history.

I need a career change. I need to get out of the oil business and move on to something much better.

I never have been the type of person who liked listening to other people. I guess deep down I have always known that I would only be truly happy working for myself.

I have a few more months to decide about this career change.

They Stole 2 Hours From Me

I slept soooo good last night! It didn't take me more than 10 minutes to fall asleep. I never woke up once, not even to go pee. It was great.

That all changed at about 5 am when I was violently awakened by ringing in my ears. I played it off as the whole "someone is talking shit about me, so my ears are ringing" and tried to peacefully go back to sleep. No go. There was this incesant noise and it was penetrating deep into my cerrabellum. It wouldn't go away. After 20 minutes of sleeping for a minute and waking up, then sleeping for a minute and waking up again, I just couldn't take it anymore! I turned to The Man and asked if he heard that noise. Oh thank gosh! So, I am not going crazy yet. I knew I still had a few years left in me before THAT happened.

It was another 20 - 30 minutes before The Man finally got out of bed and went to find out what it was. The second he opened the front door, it was a deeper penetration, a higher pitch, and I couldn't take it. I couldn't even put my hands over my ears to get rid of the noise. Lover come back to bed and says that it was a car! A Car? WTF! That is not a car alarm. How the hell does a car make that kind of noise? They don't!

I try to go back to sleep, but can't. My alarm goes off and instead of getting up I waited for the seond alarm 17 minutes later. I finally got up and went out to find out what the heck was making that sound. I didn't examine the situation long enough to know WHICH car was making the horrible noise, UGH! I can say with almost positivity that the noise was the car horn, like someone laying on the horn. Literally, LAYING on the horn. I better read in the paper tomorrow that someone was murdered in their car at the apartment complex I work at, because I am pissed! It was like somone just put something on their steering wheel to have a constant horn sound. Not Beep, beep, beep. We are talking BBBBBBBBEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!! Without the p, no 'pa.'

I'm tired! My head STILL wont stop ringing, even though the awefullness stopped about 5 minutes before I left for work.

Cold Hearted. Warm Blooded.

Mice. My fucking workplace has mice! Technically, we only found one mouse, but those fuckers NEVER travel alone. What. The. Fuck! Someone needs to tell me what my damned rights are, because I don't do rodents! Reptiles, bugs, and rodents are a no fucking go for me.

I get to work this morning and head straight to the kitchen to put my lunch in the fridge. I look down and see one of the cockroach holder/sticky things. My office has these throughout the offices too, but they also spray for bugs and I have never seen any bugs. Other than that one instance we had with an angry hive of bees that wouldn't let us outside, so we had to call the Bee Man and it took him like an hour to kill those damned things and get the Queen.

Back to my story. I look down and see the cockroach stinky thing. I think hmm... that isn't suppose to be there. Until I see it. AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!!!! I take that back, I felt the vile things heinous tale hit the top of my pinky toe before I saw what it was. AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHAAA!!!!! Stuck. The fucker was stuck in the thing. Eww! Eww! Eww! I cried. My make up is ruined, my mascara is smeared on my face, making it appear that I was punched the night before, and I am no longer wearing the eyeliner I had on at 7:59 this morning.

I come to find out that this place has had a problem with mice/rodents/vile, disgusting creatures in the past. Luckily, 2 stray cats made there way over and we started feeding them for at least 5 or 6 years. Well, the cats died (they were run over) and the fucking mice are back. I want a cat! I will go pay to adopted one and have it inside (I won’t be satisfied with an outside cat) if I have to. I mean, I will do it the right way. I want a cat, I NEED a cat. I don't do mice.

A co-worker of mine (not Mrs. NHJ) doesn't like mice, but was sad that fucker was "suffering." Fuck that! I don't feel bad for the disease carrying infestation! At this point I am kind of happy that Mrs. NHJ is around, she is a bitch. More importantly, she is bitch that doesn't like mice/rodents. This means, that something is going to be done. Cause if the Bitch ain't happy, nobody is happy!

Mrs. No Holey Jeans

Recently, I mention Mrs. No Holey Jeans (or Mrs. NHJ) in a post and thought I should explain how said co-worker developed this name.

Now, I work in the oil industry. No one ever comes to our office and when they do they look like a homeless person due to the oil/dirt/grime he or she is covered in. So, there is no need to dress in the business casual attire. Plus, the company does not have a dress code established. Therefore, I see no need to "dress to impress."

Before you Baby Booming judgmentals get on my case about how us youngsters are destroying the work environment and all that jazz, here me out.

I would never come to work in shorts (even though the summer days in Arizona are unbearable). I would never wear sweatpants or anything that looked like a work out uniform. I ALWAYS wear my hair down (only on rare days so I wear it in a bun). I would never leave my house without make-up on. My point? I don't look like some trashy girl. I look presentable and appropriate - not to mention comfortable. Mon-Fri I wear a "business casual" top and never wear T-shirts (unless the company logo is on them AND it's a Friday).

I don't feel comfortable in dresses or skirts. So, I would never wear those to work. Heels are uncomfortable and ruin my feet, so I always wear flip flops and I always wear jeans or capris.

On Fridays, I don't see anything wrong with coming to work in a tank top and "stylish" pair of jeans. You know those jeans that you can buy anywhere, and they have the strategically places holes in them? The ones that you buy that way? I love holey jeans! They just look to worn and comfortable.

Now, it had been a year that I wore a pair of holey jeans on Friday. The Republican, Baby Boomers at my company laughed, but never told me that it was inappropriate.

Then, Mrs. NHJ, who always has to put her nose in everything told me that I was not allowed to wear these jeans to work anymore. *ahem* Excuse me? Yup, The Bitch told me, after a year or my wearing these jeans to work, that I COULD NOT wear them.

Who the fuck is she. Oh! AND to top it off, she told me that my boss (still calling him Ray) agreed. Well, that is funny Mrs. NHJ, because I believe it was just last week that he was joking with me about them and even gave me a pointer on where I might find some more, for a cheaper price. I'm on to you, Bitch!

That, is how said co-worker established the name of Mrs. No Holey Jeans almost 1 year ago today.

This co-worker gets on my nerves, is unreasonable, HAS to have things done her way (even when she isn't the one doing anything in regard to what you are doing), always has an opinion which she thinks is better than everyone else’s, complains that her Coach reading glasses holder is too big, AND lives in the richest, most snobbiest place in AZ.

I finally found out why this old hag was so damned ornery... She used to work for Enron. Which means that she most likely lost most (if not all) of her retirement and will probably be working until she dies. Plus, she's never had kids, been in the oil business FAR TOO long, doesn't like me (even though I have done nothing to her) AND... is the sole reason why I dread going to work every morning.

At one point, she even had the nerve to make a comment that I probably made more money than her. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Bitch please! She was serious. I don't know where she gets that shit from!!! She makes AT LEAST double what I make in a year, including tuition reimbursement. She is like 61 years old and been in the oil industry since she was 18. Like a 20 year old makes more than her. UGH!

Horrible Professor

I have never in my life had a Professor that was so unhelpful, so unforgiving, so inconsiderate, so, so,, UUUUGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

A teachers job is to teach the student, right? Well, that means when the students asks a question the teacher provides sufficient help, right? Well this teacher deciedes to tell the student that there is nothing she can do for the student and why should such student recieve perferential treatment?

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!!!???!!!!!! SERIOUSLY!!! BITCH IT'S YOUR FUCKING JOB TO HELP ME!!!!

I post the formatt of a chart she required us to prepare. I asked if the chart was what she was looking for. She then said that I was the student and it was my job to complete the assignment and she wasn't going to do it for me.

Umm... I understand that and never once did I ask you to do the assignment for me, I simply requested a yes or no answer to the formatting of the chart...

Blondes?!? Eww...

Blondes!?! Eww…

I absolutely HATE blondes with a burning passion.

I hate blondes who die there hair brunette and I hate brunettes or redheads that die there hair blonde!

I hate them on sight; I don’t even give them a chance. I see a blonde, former blonde, or wannabe blonde and I’m disgusted; it’s almost as if my gag reflexes immediately go off and I start chocking on my own spit – a much better feeling then actually having to converse with a blonde.

Where in the world does this come from? There is a simple and reasonable explanation.

We all know that when things happen when we are 5 it’s not a huge deal. I am referring to those “sand box” marriages where you are married and divorced in a week.

Well, ever since 3rd grade, any guy I have ever liked, wanted to date, or kind-of, sort-of started to date but never made it official has “left” me for a skinny, ugly, blonde. I’m not looking at them with an evil eye either. They truly where all ugly.

I can name off every guy and even the names of the blonde girls they decided to pursue instead of myself.

It’s the story of my life. Christie likes guy, guy likes blonde skinny, ugly blonde girl. I’m use to it by now. However, that is where my hatred towards blondes stems!