Hidey Holes

I know I promised I'd post more, but I also promised myself I'd stop bitching and moaning about The Asylum in every. Single. Post. However, the clusterfuck that is my employment situation continues to dumbfound.



I busted my keister all weekend trying to get stuff caught up, cleaned up. I don't know what got in to me, but I figured I'd better strike while the iron is hot because I'm out of Colcrys and I know it's just a matter of time before I'm hobbling around like Gramaw Moses. I still find hidden caches of Ma's hoarding. I spend a big part of my life bagging up crap to haul to the dump.

It's a single wide trailer. How can there be so many hidey holes?

In between sweeping, bagging, dragging and hauling I played with my little home made loom some yesterday. I've tried thread (too small,) baby yarn (still too small) and eventually graduated to former Goodwill sheets, ripped in to scraps. I'm thinking throw rugs. I'd have to sew like.. four completed pieces together to make a decent throw rug, but it gives me something to do and I've got plenty of scraps to use.

I'm not worried about trying to sell them. It takes all the fun out of making stuff. My house is going to turn in to a DIY/crafty old lady nightmare.. and I don't care.

Currently, my kitchen floor looks like there was some midget mud wrestling going on. The backyard is just goo and Ayla has trucked about half of it in. Not much sense mopping until it dries up a bit. Also, the Christmas tree is still in the corner, dead and bare. TA says she can't take it down until she sharpens her hatchet. I'm not sure what one has to do with the other, I don't know if she intends to chop it down in the living room or what. I just smile and say, "Oh.. okay."

I've learned not to ask.

And now:

The Random Asylum Rant
Brought to you, in case you're sick of Asylum posts and want to skip this part.

So, TW, Tiny  and Buster are gone to the trade show for three days. This morning, when inquiring about an order that's supposed to ship today, I find out we're shipping some robot monkeys with llama arms. This order is huge, like.. truck load going to an Air Force base huge. Aparently, we can't get the monkey arms until next month, so TW told them to ship them with llama arms, then we'll drop ship the  monkey arms next month and the customer will have to install them themselves. All this so that TW's numbers won't be off at the end of the month. No one told me anything about this until this morning, as the truck was being scheduled to pick up the robot monkeys. So, since all the managers are at the show, I'm expected to call the customer and tell him we're sending his monkeys with llama arms and not to worry.. they'll work.. theoretically.. I mean.. an arm's an arm.. until the monkey arms can be shipped. Oh and don't forget he'll have to take the monkeys apart when he gets them so that he can reinstall the arms. 

I was livid. I called TW at the show and left her a damned pissy voice mail. She never called me back, instead she called Thelma, when I happened to be standing there.. and told her that I knew about this for two weeks, although the decision was just made last Wednesday. 

So pissed. 

I mean, if you had purchased $300K worth of robot monkeys, would you not expect them to be functional when you got them?

Customer Service: it doesn't mean what they think it means.


Anyway.,., back to it. Ya'll stay warm. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!