.:Wednesday, September 24:.

..:Pirates and problems:..

Okay, so, it has been..... pretty much ages since I've blogged properly. Lessee, had talk like a pirate day of course, my little sister crashed at my place for the weekend and we met tiff for cheescake. Then proceeded to swagger our way home and try a bunch of different mixes of all the booze and other liquids in my fridge to see what was actually palatable.

Fireball whiskey and coke? Very very good. Amaretto and pretty much anything? Also very very good. Vodka? Evil. And that is all I will say on that matter.

Tiff bummed out on me and shopping for the 2nd time (boo-urns) so me and beej spent the day bumming about the apartment watching Justice League and the Labyrinth. David Bowies eyebrows are terrifying, and he really needs to lay off the glitter, but DAMN do I love that movie.

KT is back home again, unfortunately, not for fun reasons, but because her Grandma died. This month really seems to suck balls for that kin of stuff, everyone I kow has pretty much had to go to a funeral at least once this month, and poor Chrissy at work 4 times in the last month, and 3 of those were family members.

God? You suck.

Speaking of work, this past week was rather... unique. For those who don't know what I do, I'm in charge of getting all paperwork cleared and sent through with Canada Customs properly and with getting revises. This means that if freight turns out to be more than someone had origionally booked, or if there were extra charges or if they just annoy the boss enough, that I'm in charge of getting the revisions out of them and getting more money assigned to an order.

Generally this is pretty easy, you call, explain what happened and people send more money (if only that happened in my life), but every once in a while you get the assholes. You know them, people whom, no matter what reality, other people or occasionally the laws of physics state: they have to be right.

These are the people who insist that we can drive between California and Ontario in one night, who will argue to death that you quoted them something other than the standard rate and will try to get a discount, or some of the time will tell you to fuck off and just not pay the bill. Alot of the time I get those calls. We have a few girls here in the department, but I seem to be the one that they all turn over calls that are going to turn into a shouting match in one way or another. Why? Because I'm damn good at it, I'm a quick thinker and know how to adapt an argument to get my point across and can usually talk the other party down into seeing my side.

This does, however, have a pretty standard side effect: alot of people in the industry think I'm a bitch. I'm the one they send when Things Go Wrong, so I tend to get a bad rep even though most of the time I'm very polite to customers and really fairly cheerful at work.

That all being said, I got called into the office last week to talk to the owner. After the usual smalltalk stuff, he started talking about gas prices and the state of the industry and all the things that can go wrong and cause us to loose a customer. And all I could think was 'oh fuck I'm gonna get laid off again.' Not a fun thought. And then he came out with the insulting thing: "Meredith.... there have been complaints about you...." Well ya think? You hired me to do a shit job, which I'm good at, that causes alot of people to get very very angry with me. My dispatchers, any time they've buggered up or need to break bad news on to someone, pass the buck on to me, so yeah people get annoyed.

I think basically that the company isn't doing as well as it had hoped it might this year and now they're looking for reasons to let someone go. So it basically all boiled down to one more complaint against me and I'm gone. Well whop-de-fuck. Honestly, I hate it when people play mind games. And that is what this is: he'd called a bunch of other people into the office right after me to "talk" so I have a pretty damn strong suspicion that he's trying to motivate the lot of us by threatening our jobs. I don't need that, Frank used to do that and it drove me fucking BATTY.

So, one more thing gets put on me and I get yelled at for it? I'm gone, I'll just pick up a bartender gig or a job at Chapters, surrounded by booze or books, or hell, maybe just combine the 2. I hate people who play mind games, and while my current bosses are better than most, they still do. We'll see, I just hate job hunting, so either way it's gonna suck.

Apartment stuff: Jenn has made the final offer on her property, so she's pretty much got it all in the bag and all that's left is signing all the papers and getting everything built and installed, so it looks like she might actually make her deadline of moving out of the apartment by December. Tiff is still in the running for the Universal studios job out in Japan and I really am torn. This would be an amazing experience for her, and a big boost for her career if she does manage to go: but a part of me still wishes that she's bloody well stay in the country at least. She has put forth a possible suggestion though: She'll find out in December if she's going or not, and if she can't I pretty much have 3 choices:
-Pray that a friend or hell, a friend of a friend can move in
-Advertise on the U of T network (not bad, but I really do hate some students)
-Advertise on Craigslist (possibly lifethreatening and an overall very squicky idea)

Bugger.

Have been having some disturbing as fuck dreams too, as in I have actually woken Jenn up screaming one night. This keeps up and I might actually cave and go see a therapist. (and I really do hate those fuckers) Have been having a pretty bad run of physical crap go wrong too. Food, and I do mean pretty much any food here, is OK while I'm eating it, but about an hour later I feel like my stomach is staging a revolt and has recruited half my other organs in the battle. Blah. At this rate I'm going to be subsiding on soup by Christmas. And my freaking JOINTS hurt. Me and Beej were gonna wander down around bloor street on sunday, but I ended up scrubbing on her cause I couldn't actually stand without my joints feeling like I could pop apart like a mister potatoe-head doll at any minute. And the first person to suggest I go see a doctor is having a cat flung at them, I have seen a doc, and pretty much all they do is drain me dry and suggest simple foods. Useless buggers.

But tonight, gonna head home, meet up with Jesse for dinner, then a bit of a movie fest and sleep for at least 10 hours. Likely with the cats locked in the living room so the little fuckers don't wake me up again like they did last night. (The fire alarm went off, that didn't wake me up, the fucking cat STEPPING on my EYE did.)

Now back to work, and pretending I actually give a flying fuck and am happy to be here.
Joy.

Labels: apartment, Beej, doctors, funeral, kt, labyrinth, pirates, Sick, tiff, work

Meru at 2:25 PM