Birthdays, Butt Wipes and Babies

It's only Thursday? Really?

I came in with bells on this morning, (okay, not actual bells.. sheesh) coffee in hand and ready to tackle whatever the Universe wanted to toss this way. It took all of 12 minutes for PG to mouth off and rub me the wrong way. I over heard him in Lulu's office blaming me for his mistake.

This is boring as hell, but I need to vent. Bear with me. When we ship stuff, if the customer has no preference, we just put "best way" on the order. We assume that because the shipping department has access to scales, they should be able to determine if something is too heavy for UPS. I mean, shipping is what they do.

Right?

Apparently I was mistaken. It seems I am supposed to know the weight of each item we ship, with different accessories and packaging... from my desk in the office.

Anywho, so PG shipped something UPS that was too heavy and we got charged for an "oversized" package. And apparently it was my fault because I "wasn't specific" enough. So we had to "eat" the fee. It was the first I'd heard of it. I guess I'm supposed to know what's going on without anyone telling me.

This seems to happen a lot, no?

So from now on, all orders will have extensive, idiot proof shipping instructions, with just a taste of in-your-face snarkiness.

Because.. that's how I roll.

Why do people have to be such booty wipes?

Moving on...

My plumbing is still borked. Last night I washed enough delicate underthings (granny panties and over-the-shoulder-boulder-holders) to last until the weekend... in the bathtub. I'll take the rest of it to a laundromat this Saturday. I'm not even going to worry about it anymore. Ma wants to handle it and bites my head off when I say anything.. so finey dokey. She can handle it. I don't care if she calls every convicted criminal in Hee-Haw County to come fix it.

I still think it's the town's fault anyway.

In Other News...

Twenty three years ago tomorrow, I woke up in a recovery room in a hospital in Norfolk, Virginia, some time after 10 p.m., from an emergency C-section. I remember being confused, then remembering what was happening just as they handed me a tiny, red faced, screaming baby. At 19 years old, I did the only thing I knew to do. I joined in with the sobbing, scaring the shit out of the attending physician.

I had never felt so alone in my whole life.

Once the tiny Amazon (6lbs, 13oz, 19in, yes I still remember) and I both calmed down, a nice nurse came over, hiked my legs up in the air like some hussy and started tidying things up. It was at that moment that they let one of Ma's friends, whom I despised, to come in with me. Ma had already held the baby, so there was no reason for her to come in.

I promptly asked her friend to leave, further cementing my reputation as a bitch in training.

Anywho, so tomorrow there will be cake. Maybe ice cream cake. And we'll sing. Then when I'm sure no one's looking, I'll cry just like I did back then.

Hey.. it's tradition.

It's almost lunch time here at the Asylum. I'm going to go figure out what's for lunch. One more day, then we'll have a long weekend. We can make it.

Later Taters!