What Goes Around

So, as ya'll know, I worked at The Cubicle Asylum for 20 years (and two months) and was proud to be the booty kicking Sales Ninja. We had several sales managers over the years, but no one stuck around for long, especially Gorilla Head.

Peppermint Twatwaffle went against my advice and hired the jerkwad sales rep, after I told her how crooked he was, repeatedly. He was on the payroll for 24 hours and fired after refusing to produce a social security card because he was trying to hide the fact that he was still employed by his Granddaddy's company, the one he'd been over for six months before sending it in to bankruptcy. 

I puttered along. I won new accounts, I increased orders, I busted my ass, all on a clerk's pay. My only request was that I not have to work in the hallway. I  blamed my assorted anxiety diagnosis's, but apparently, "over stimulation" is a symptom of fibromyalgia too. Regardless, I didn't think it was much to ask. There were empty offices all over the building.

Enter the Germans, who, against my advice, hired Gorilla Head again. I was faced with working for the man who had talked down to me and was a general asshole for the ten plus years that he was my Atlanta rep, then upon getting fired from The Asylum the first time, had called our corporate office to tell them that both me and TW were worthless, among other equally insulting comments. 

But I'm a trooper, I sucked it up. I tried to make it work. As soon as Gorilla Head found out about my anxiety problems, he went to Pillsbury Doughboy, the new GM, and had me moved back to the hallway. 

I (and several others) went to PD and HR about GH repeatedly, but I was belittled and spoken to like a trouble maker. On several occasions, I overheard GH and PD making fun of me. I was a big joke.

As a lifetime fat kid, this was nothing new to me. I could handle it.

After a family tragedy struck, leaving me pretty much useless, HR sent me home and approved my taking a week off (I used vacation time.) The morning I came back, I was fired. PD never said, "Sorry for your loss" or anything. 

A couple of weeks later, orders came down from Germany and GH was fired. I should probably mention that I emailed and spoke with Germany on a daily basis. We were tight.

Apparently, PD pitched a holy effin' fit over being told to fire GH and began his own personal downward spiral. 

The last time I spoke to Lulu, about a month after GH got the axe, HR had quit. HR was PD's right hand. He couldn't wipe his own dainty little doughy ass without her. I reckon she got tired of it. 

Are you with me so far?

Somewhere in the middle of all of this, Aunt Moses' grandson, TBBCWTLE's oldest, went to work at the plant. I had a source.

A couple of months ago, I think, hell even I'm confused at this point, Aunt Moses said PD had a melt down and had been taken to the nervous hospital. The evil, vindictive part of my soul wanted to call him and say, "WHO'S LAUGHING NOW MOTHER HUMPER?"

But that would have been really mean, if not enormously gratifying.

He was there for a while and as far as I know, never came back to work. 

So today I ran in to TBBCWTLE at the dollar store and we were standing around in the parking lot with our other cousin, who happens to be visiting from Norfolk, like a bunch of food stampin' system leeches, when she informs me that PD had "resigned." 

I may have laughed maniacally and woohooed like a big ol' obnoxious hillbilly.

But here's the kicker. Guess who they're considering to take his place?

THE MOTHER FECKIN' GROPER. OMGWTFBBQ!!!

Thank you Universe for sending me out of that place. It was a shock to my system at the time, but with every trickle of gossip that rolls down off that hilltop, I am truly grateful I don't have to deal with it anymore.

I Need Anger Management

Lord ya'll. This lookin' for a job bullshit is about to kill me. In the past week, I've done two interviews, uploaded, downloaded, speed tested, brain tested, answered questions and been rejected three times.

The first was for the Wallyworld website. I made it as far as the second interview there before I got tossed aside. 

I don't know why.

 The next was for Frontier, who actually offered me a position, but because my upload speed is limited to .85 milli doohickeys or whatever, and can't make the minimum of 1. milli doohickey, I got rejected. 

Did I mention that Frontier is my actual ISP provider? I called them and asked if they couldn't do something on their end because I was going to lose a job opportunity.. WORKING FOR THEM.. because I had sucky internet service. "Jim" basically told me that naw, not in The Holler. That's as fast as you're gonna get. 

Ain't that just sucktastic. There are third world countries with faster internet than we can get in Frog Pond Holler. 

So today, I had another email from another company I'd applied to. They were "excited" about my resume! I went to their website and checked their internet requirements. My speeds were triple what they required. 

Awesome!

Of course they sent me to a website to test my computer connection, software, memory and all that jazzola, but I was confident because I had MADE SURE my computer was up to snuff. I clicked that "GO" button and sat back as the website worked it's magic. There were about 20 different things that they tested for. My computer and connection passed 19 of them.

Do you know WHY my computer didn't pass? DO YOU?

Because it's more than 6 years old.

AIN'T THAT SOME SHIT??????? Isn't that like... AGE DISCRIMINATION????

I finally just threw my hands up, hauled out the trash and cooked dinner. Then I sat on the couch with my spaghetti and played Solitaire on my phone. My brain needs to regroup. 

Also, since I'm bitching anyway, I'm in pain. My joints have gone all Rice Krispie because I've been without drugs for over a month. And every time my thumbs pop or my knee jerks the wrong way, I get pissed. Pissed off that for a few short months, I HAD good insurance. I HAD decent pay.

Then I think of sitting in that Pillsbury Doughboy looking mother fecker's office while he told me that while he wasn't saying I didn't have any skills, they just weren't the skills needed to perform my job the way they wanted it done... that I may have skills that might be useful to SOMEONE. 

And then?

Then I want to get in the truck, drive up there and plant my sizeable right foot up his ass, sideways, and jam it so far up that my toes are sticking out his nose. 

Because it's BULLCRAP.

I spend 80% of my time trying to talk myself out of being pissed off... and THAT pisses me off because I'm still letting that place control me.. and it needs to stop. 

While I'm on the subject, I'm still kind of hurt that the people I spent 40 hours a week with for the past 20 years can't even respond to a text message when I KNOW their phone is never more than six inches from their hand. 

Especially Lulu. I don't even try anymore. 

As for the drugs, I ordered about 3 months worth from India for about half what I'd pay for 1 month here. I've done it before, they're legit. 

Also, my blood sugar has been all kittywampus. Like.. ridiculously high. I could sit here and say I take my medicine and eat right, blah blah blah... and I don't know what the deal is, but that would be a lie. 

It's high because there's a half a sack of off brand Coco Krispies in the cabinet. 

So yeah, that's on me. 

I stress, I eat. I didn't get this voluptuous bootay munching on cucumbers.

Anywho...  I just needed to vent. I feel better already.

Ya'll have a good one and hang in there, it's almost the weekend.

Later Taters!

Bubbles, Lawnmowers and Airstreams

My Friday post.. on Saturday night. That's my life lately.

Those of you who've been hanging around here for a while, know that I have a hate-hate love-hate relationship with my front lawn. It's always been a challenge to keep it mowed, with working and my wonky joints. This year, with new meds and no job, I was psyched. I was going to hit it early in the spring and keep it up. 

Unfortunately, my lawnmower had other plans. 

I spent two days trying to get it started before I gave up and took it to the shop. They kept it for almost three weeks before calling to tell me it couldn't be fixed. 

My grass is ridiculous. I have no lawn mower and I'm still not 100% sure when the hell I can expect my first unemployment payment. So I watch the lawn turn into a jungle, imagining wiggly, legless critters slithering just out of sight, waiting for me to walk across the yard. 

I get anxiety watching the grass grow. 

HOPEFULLY I can get a used Craigslist special sometime next week. Fingers crossed.

News from The Cubicle Asylum

Lulu sent me a brief and to the point text message yesterday. I've been replaced. 

Are ya'll sitting down? 

They hired Bubbles back.

I pretended like I didn't care, tried to tell myself it's not my problem, but dude, I thought about that shit all night long. To be fired and told you don't have the skills to perform your job, then to be replaced by that ding dong.. it's beyond insulting. To make matters worse, I've had to listen to snarky comments from her Bubbahubby and her brother every time I run in to them in town, and that was before she got my job. 

It makes me never want to leave the house again.

The Latest on the Fire

The last I heard was that the Frog Pond Holler fire ended up covering over 6,000 acres, but we've had a crap ton of rain in the past week and I'm pretty sure it's out. Thank goodness. Now I can hang my laundry out without my clothes smelling like Smoky the Bear's been rolling around wearing them.

Around the House

I spend a lot of time looking out my kitchen window. The view is of the vacant lot across the road and there are always random critters running amok.  A gopher lives in a hole just up the bank, I watch him scurrying around and munching the greenery. There's a black cat that hunts and a pair of mourning doves with a nest up in the branches. When it rains, a creek forms and creates a waterfall that feeds the swampy pond below. 

It's my happy place.

Last night, I passed by the kitchen window, then doubled back and looked again. There was a friggen Airstream parked there with tie dye sheets hanging from the awning and a bicycle chained to the front. 

What the hell? It's right up by the road, with traffic whizzing by and hikers looking all up in the door. The man that owns it appears to be my age or older and is fond of running around shirtless. He sits over there in his lawn chair, sipping a beer, a blinding glare reflecting off his round belly, and looking straight in my kitchen window.

I've had to start wearing pants around the house. I don't like it.

I don't know if he's living over there or vacationing or what. It's nuts. There's a campground in the city limits and another one 3 miles up the road. Why would you want to camp a few feet from the highway?

People are weird. And coming from me, that's pretty bad.

Ah well. I'll adjust, I suppose.

Anywho, I'd better go finish dinner. Ya'll have a good one. We'll talk again soon!

Later Taters!!

Hikers, Old Spice and Cheating Bubbahubbies

The big Trail worshiper's gathering was this weekend in Frog Pond Holler. I decided I'd check it out, I needed to take my books back to the library anyway and I hoped to snag a photo opportunity or two.

In years past, town has been wall to wall hikers, their ripe funk hanging in the air like an expired pole cat.

I'm not being mean. They stink. They know they stink. They've been in the woods, hiking from somewhere between here and Main. I'm not judging. You can build up some major coochie and/or pit funk when you stay in the woods that long.

This year, there didn't seem to be as many. The smell of hiker funk was replaced by Old Spice and patchouli, from mostly local folks of the hippie and hillbilly varieties. The VFD was selling BBQ and cotton candy, a local farm had seedlings for sale, there was a climbing wall and a jumpy thing.

Normally I couldn't care less, but I was kinda disappointed by the lack of dread-locked and kilted men folk, forming a steady stream by the kitchen window, dragging their left foot behind them as they soldier on, trying to make it the last 100 feet into town.

It's especially entertaining when the wind's blowing just right. The look they get on their faces when they catch a whiff of burger grease from the Grab N' Go (and go and go,) after eating dandelions and granola for gawd knows how long, is priceless.

I had planned to park at the library, but they blocked some of the roads, in a manner that made no sense WHAT-soever. We don't have like.. a traffic department in Frog Pond Holler. I'm pretty sure it was just Crazy Larry putting road signs up willy-nilly. He may or may not have been sober at the time.

I left Jolene behind the post office and did the fat-girl-waddle over to the library. I ran in to Lacey on the way. She and I worked at The Asylum together, way back when. I hadn't seen her since Uncle G's funeral. She hugged my neck and instantly started spewing forth with pent up emotions. She'd caught her bubbahubby cheating, she'd moved out, she felt like her world was exploding apart, she didn't know what she was going to do....

I gave her my number and told her to call me anytime she wanted to talk.  She wasn't making a whole lot of sense and it sounded like she could use a shoulder.

While I was talking to Lacey, The Baby Engineer strolled up and gave me a big hug. He's happy with the new sales manager up at The Asylum. He said he doesn't know much, but at least he's not an a-hole.

Not being an a-hole can go a long way when you've worked for Gorilla Head.

After more socializing in one morning than I've done in two months, I finally made it to the library. The Amazon works there on Saturday mornings, but will she take my books back for me? No.

I dropped my books on the desk (one of which was The Vegetable Gardener's Container Bible: How to Grow a Bounty of Food in Pots, Tubs, and Other Containers) and BSed with TA for a bit. I did end up taking some pictures, but they mostly sucked.

All in all, it really wasn't worth putting pants on for.

Anywho... I'd best get to it. I've got a stack of crap to do, and since I wasted my time taking another transcription test (I totally aced it on the second try, but accidentally hit the "test completed" button, when it wasn't. You only get two tries,) I should probably get busy.

Ya'll have a booty kickin' Monday. We'll talk again soon.

Later Tater!

It's Juicy Ya'll

Hey ya'll, guess what?

I have gossip! I'm so happy I could burst, and it's wrong, so very wrong for me to feel this way, but whatever.

Guess who got fired from The Asylum?

GORILLA HEAD!!!!

What comes 'round, goes 'round. Heh.

In the past two days I've gotten emails from two of my old customers and a phone call from another, all saying, "He's gone! When are you coming back??"

They miss me. What can I say?

Apparently, he was let go because he wasn't going out on sales calls. Hell, I told management numerous times that the only sales trips he was going on were to vendors, not customers. That's not even remotely in the sales manager's job description. The announcement that the GM sent out to the sales reps named the new sales manager and said he would start in two weeks. Obviously, they'd found Gorilla Head's replacement before he was let go.

I can say with confidence that the GM likely had nothing to do with this decision. If anyone said anything to the GM about GH not doing anything to generate sales, they were cut off immediately. The GM believed GH did no wrong and accused us all of attacking his character. I'll bet ya'll it was Dr. B, the German CEO who was behind it.

Would I go back now? Not if I have any say in the matter. I am SO glad to be out of that place. It was a soul sucking, nerve wracking atmosphere and while I miss my buds, I don't miss the bull hockey.

I seriously doubt the Powers that Be would offer me a job again, seeing how they used "a lack of skills" as the reason for me being let go, but if they did, I think I'd have to take it if I wanted to continue to draw unemployment.

So let's just all take a moment to pray, burn a candle, dance around the bonfire naked on the full moon.. whatever it takes to make sure that doesn't happen.

In other news...

I applied and was accepted by a work-from-home CSR company, similar to the one I did before. I just have to pass the background/credit check then I do training for two weeks. It's a little different in that I won't be an employee, but it's a 6 month contract and pays .25 minute for the time you're actually on the phone. I don't know exactly what I'll be selling, but it's for merchandise that's advertised via t.v. or radio commercials. 

Call now for this exciting offer!!

Hey, it's something.. and I don't have to put on pants.

I also applied for a transcription job, but I flunked the test on that one. I'm still poking around and looking at different things to do online. I'll have to work a schedule for the phone job, but I'd like to find something else, data entry or transcription, that I can do on the fly, when the phone hours are scarce.

I went to a much needed doctor's appointment at the Hee Haw clinic yesterday. I needed a primary physician and it was just easier to run down there than to try to find one in Big City. At least now, half my extended family doesn't work there. When I went before, after we first moved here, Aunt Moses would be calling Ma to find out why my car was at the clinic, then Ma would be calling up to The Asylum, leaving messages on my phone asking me what was wrong. In the mean time, Aunt Moses would call her sister-in-law at the clinic to see if I was dying or pregnant.

It always had to be one or the other.

I liked the new doctor. At least he's from the south and he speaks our language. Looking at my charts, he said, "So ya smoke a little bit."

"Yeah. I had quit for like 3 weeks, then everything happened (we'd already been over the shit storm that has been my life) and I just didn't care anymore."

"Well my gawd, your nerves had to be bad."

I laughed. A doctor that understands that down here, "general anxiety disorder" translates to "my nerves are bad."

I think we'll get along just fine.

I had to go back this morning to visit the vampires in the lab. At midnight tonight my insurance expires. I think I've found some other options that will work for me. Fingers crossed.

That's all I've got for now. I'm going to run to the pharmacy and get as many prescriptions filled as I can. Maybe it'll hold me over until I get insurance.

Ya'll have a kick ass week! We'll talk again soon. Later Taters!!!

Of Pandas and Puking

I should probably be making dinner, but it can wait. I'm not really in the mood at the moment.

The Saturday before the Monday when I became um.. "liberated".. from my position at The Asylum, I got a wild hair up my beehind and bought myself a fancy new washing machine. My little Panda washer was still chugging along, my only complaint being that I couldn't wash anything big, like blankets or bedspreads. On the front of the little Panda was a sticker that said, "Do not immerse in water."

And now I know why.

Apparently I neglected to turn the cold water hose off all the way the last time I unloaded the washer. By the time I noticed, the cats' litter boxes were floating in about two inches of water, along with a few stray turds.

We won't even go into the magnitude of the resulting mess. Use you're imagination.. and multiply times 100.

Anywho, after the Great Flood, the little Panda wouldn't come on. Poor little Panda. It's now laying on it's side in the backyard.

The new washer was on sale. It has more buttons than I know what to do with. It's one of those fancy HE models (not a front loader, let's don't get crazy) and it has a fabric softener dispenser.

I'VE NEVER HAD A WASHER THAT DIDN'T NEED A DOWNY BALL!!!!

I have washed more laundry in the past two weeks than I have since we moved here. My closet is full. It's no wonder I never had anything to wear.

In other news...

I was tidying up the living room the other night and reached over the couch to straighten the curtain and the back of the couch fell off.

Just like that. Boom. I said words. Lots of words. The kind that make your mama take off her house shoe and fling it at your head.

We have one of those reclining models, with a foot rest on each end. I imagine, that as TA and I fought off the crud from hell, taking turns sleeping on the comfy end, our substantially ample booties, with their wiggling and trying to rollover, must have jiggled something loose, causing the middle section of the couch to become unattached.

I've had the time, but not the gumption, to flip it over and inspect the damage. I'm afraid to look. Maybe.. but it's not likely, I can put it back together. In light of recent events, I really don't want to go couch shopping.

As I mentioned, TA and I had the flu/virus/infection/demonic possession from the deepest regions of Hell, which ushered us straight in to allergy season. I'm pretty much over it, other than sounding like Bea Arthur. TA however, had to finally admit defeat and go to the Minute Clinic, returning home with a ginormous bag of assorted pharmaceuticals. She'd coughed so much that she bruised up her insides and had started puking.

Like.. infant formula projectile puking.

We have two big hulking boxes of Christmas decorations siting outside the bathroom. They should have been taken out to the RV by now, but I'm a little behind.

From Christmas 2014.

Shut up.

So TA was making a dash to the potty palace the other night in the midst of a coughing fit. Then I heard it.. and I knew she hadn't made it to the throne. I found her standing in the hall, her hand over her mouth.

"I'm so sorry, but you'll want to get the mop."

"Why do I have to get the mop? What are you gonna do when I die? You're grown, mop up your own puke." Because I'm a bad mom sometimes.

"It didn't all go in the floor," she said, looking horrified.

"Did you.. you didn't. You did didn't you. YOU PUKED ON CHRISTMAS!! OMG ALL OVER THE BABY JESUS!! IT'S NO WONDER WE'RE CURSED!!!!"

She shuffled off to the bathroom. I mopped. I haven't looked in the box. We need new Christmas decorations anyway.

Anywho.. That's the latest from my little corner of the holler. Ya'll have a good one, we'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!!

In Survivor Mode

Hey ya'll. It's official. I survived my first week of unemployment.

It's been weird. The only times I've been without a job were for a couple of years after TA was born and the first couple of months after we moved to the holler. I literally do not know what to do with myself.

Anxiety was a big issue last week, but that seems to have subsided. However, knowing myself as I do, I've spent a considerable amount of time on the phone with various mental health professionals, trying to get an appointment. The only provider in Hee Haw County doesn't take my insurance and would charge me $90 for an evaluation and $60 for a 30 minute session. If I wait until my insurance ends on March 31st, I can go and pay a $3 copay.

What kind of effin sense does that make?

I did speak with a lady at length yesterday in Big City who said she could get me in a program at the hospital for intensive outpatient therapy, who does take my insurance, but I'd have to be there by 9am  and stay 'til noon five days a week. Hell, by the time I drive to Big City everyday for two weeks, I'll have used up all my funds.

The lesson? Don't go crazy in Hee Haw county.

I did manage to get an appointment with the Hee Haw Clinic on the 30th. At least I can get my prescriptions filled while I still have coverage. I'm going to look in to BC/BS of NC, once I find out if/what my unemployment will be. They offer a discount based on your adjusted income from your tax return.

This also means I'll need to do my taxes.

Over the weekend, TA decided that I needed a day trip so she got discount tickets to the aquarium in Gatlinburg and we spent Sunday looking at the sea critters. I took lots of pictures, but not many good ones. Sharks will NOT sit still for their photo op, no matter how much you beg.

Last week I also looked in to getting disability. I have four of the ailments listed on their approval list, plus a plethora of others. I really don't want to work anywhere else after dealing with Gorilla Head.

I haven't shared all the crap he's pulled since he's been at The Asylum. I think the worst day was when he failed to show up one day and emailed me to send a customer an order acknowledgement. Unbeknownst to him, I was up to my ass in alligators, putting out fires in his absence. The next morning, he came in and the customer called. GH yelled from his office (he didn't care if I was on the phone or in the middle of something, he would just holler from his troll hole and expect me to hop to it) and I rolled my chair over to his door. He asked me if I'd sent the acknowledgment like he'd told me and I said, "Not yet."

He proceeded to ream me a new one, while he had the customer on the phone, not on hold, not covering the mouth piece, yelling, "WHEN I TELL YOU TO DO SOMETHING I EXPECT YOU TO DO IT RIGHT THEN! I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IF YOU'RE BUSY, JUST DO WHAT I SAY!."

It didn't go over well.

After he hung up the phone, I appeared, like a demonic vision in his doorway. There were lots of "Don't you EVER.." and "Unprofessional behavior" type accusations being tossed his way. I was livid.

It's really no wonder I got the ax.

Dr. B, our German daddy, is supposed to be in on 4/4. I wonder if he knows I'm gone. I always made sure he had fresh, hot, very strong coffee and he always asked me if I was happy. I know he and GH have been in to it a few times. I half expect to hear from him.

I've had a hard time distancing myself from The Asylum. I still worry about orders that I know were supposed to go out. I miss Lulu and Thelma. Neither of them will talk to me. I've been shunned.

Oddly, I did get a call from Twatwaffle. She'd heard about the Long Lost Daughter drama and wanted to reach out to me. I'd always said we'd get along outside the office, but she was a huge pain in the ass to work for.

I've been going 'round and 'round trying to figure out what to do in the future. I really can't stand the thought of going back in to an office with an asshole boss. I'd like to get disability, but I'm not going to apply until I talk to the doc on the 30th. I like to make things, but I don't want the hassle of running a website. I do have one of those shelter tent thingies you see at craft shows. I saw it at Big Lots on clearance for $40 and grabbed it. I've not even had it out of the box. I could probably make enough side money selling crafts from the front yard in the summer to make ends meet. Maybe do a few Tarot readings. The house is paid for. Jolene is paid for. I could grow a few veggies in the back yard and get a few more chickens for eggs. I'd be happy.

Of course, there is also that book I never had time to write.

I guess I'd best get to doing something. Don't ya'll worry, I'll be writing ever step of the way. Thank you for all your kind comments, I read them over and over when I'm down.

For now, there are dishes and laundry and critters to tend to. Ya'll take care, we'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!

It Finally Hit the Fan and the Splatter is Widespread

The past two weeks have been a shit storm. You'd better fix yourself a hot toddy and grab the blankie, cuz this is going to take a while.

It all started a week ago last Thursday. I was at The Asylum, doing my sales thing, when Gorilla Head started berating me about the way I did things when I'd dared to ask him a question. This would happen often and I'd learned to just say "okay" and go back to my desk.

Anything to avoid an altercation.

This time, however, he made more comments, under his breath from his desk and.. well.. this old girl snapped. The problem working with GH was, he felt that everything I did, that I always had done, was wrong, yet he refused to tell me what he expected. He'd go on for ten minutes, getting a chubby from the sound of his own voice, but never, ever, actually telling me a damned thing.

Dude, just TELL ME. I'm not an idiot. I can follow directions.

The next morning, I called in sick. I'm sure it looked like I'd laid out because he pissed me off, but I didn't. When the whole gang, excluding me, had gone to the trade show the week before, they'd brought back some kinda funky Florida virus and infected the whole office. It felt like the flu. I slept so much that weekend, with fevers, chills and churning snot that when I woke up Sunday morning, I didn't know what day it was.

Sunday night, I received word of a family tragedy, involving Long Lost Daughter. I don't want to go in to it right now, my emotions are still pretty raw, we'll talk about that later. There are links to the newspaper articles regarding the drama on my Facebook page.

I was emotionally wrecked. I still showed up for work on Monday morning, but all it took was Lulu telling me she'd seen the link for me to lose control and start sobbing uncontrollably. She went and got Kat who told me to go home and call in the next day and we'd figure something out. So I did.

Kat ended up calling me later that day to tell me that Turbo Bitch would not approve bereavement leave, but I was welcome to use as much vacation time as I needed. I told Kat I was taking the week off.

In 20 years at The Asylum, this was only the second time I'd ever taken an entire week of vacation.

Lets just skip over last week. I basically sat on the couch and bawled the whole time.

I dreaded going in to work on Monday, I knew it would be hard, but I sucked it up and went to work. I stopped and spoke to Lulu and the Baby Engineer (who was recently moved to the sales department, supposedly to lighten my work load)  who hugged my neck and welcomed me back. I sat at my desk, my phone rang and I was called to the GM's office.

The following is a direct quote from the letter I was given during that meeting:

"I have spent my first 6 months at (The Asylum) observing and listening to the needs of the company, our employees and out customers. I also have been actively developing plans for the growth of the business. Based on those two activities, I reached my decision that your skills are not what (The Asylum) needs at this time."

Also...

"I personally regret that I have had to make this decision and it was not made easily. It is my responsibility to ensure that (the Asylum) has associates with the specific skills needed to help achieve our goals. When that is in question, I must act."

They gave me a months severance pay as well as paid me for all unused vacation for the year. I was escorted back to my desk, where they had boxes waiting and packed up my stuff. The Baby Engineer came back and asked me what the hell I was doing. Bless his heart, he was all to pieces when I told him I'd been fired. He carried the box out to the truck, hugged on me some more and ranted a while. I told him it was okay, I'd been suspicious that I'd be training my replacement when he was moved to sales.

Those are the facts. Now, the truth is probably that Gorilla Head had me fired because I refused to do my job and his while he sat back on his ass and picked his nose. Whatever, I'm kind of relieved to be honest.

In the past two days, I've received emails and phone calls from customers that I've worked with over the years and honestly, that means the world to me. They know how hard I worked for them and that I was exceptional at my job.

Yesterday, I completed my application for unemployment. I'm still sorting out next steps, still a little floored, not just over the job loss, but all the assorted clusterfuckery that has occurred in the past two weeks. I'm sure I'll be fine.

I can't afford therapy, so I'll be doing the next best thing, putting it all out here for someone to read.

Ya'll hang in there. We can do this... and we'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!!!

George Lopez, Nutmeg and Turbo Bitch

No I'm not dead. I didn't get abducted by aliens or run away to live in the woods with Bigfoot.

I'll get to all that in a minute. First, let me introduce you to the little heathen I found in the parking lot at The Asylum:

Her name is Nutmeg. She was a tiny little thing, sitting in my parking space one day when I came back from lunch. I caught her with a bribe of the ham sandwich I'd brought. The vet guesses she was about 3 months old when I found her.

She's a snuggle bunny and Grimm has claimed her as his own. They play and he grooms her, it's adorable.

Kitty? Not so much. But at least now Grimm leaves her alone.

So let's dive head first in to everything else, shall we?

The Asylum is a clusterfuck. The Germans, who have now been bought by The Swiss, are amazing. They're making improvements left and right, we have amazing health insurance and nice pay. However, the little hussy they hired as Business Administrator is a total turbo bitch.

To date, I've been called in to a meeting with a select few others from the office and accused of starting rumors because business is slow and some of the guys from the plant asked the Big Guy why Gorilla Head wasn't selling anything.

They seem to think that when the plant guys are standing around with their thumbs up their hiney, they don't have enough sense to figure out why on their own.

I've been asked to leave a training meeting because, although I was sick as a dog and trying not to choke on my own snot, but showed up anyway, my cough was disruptive.

I lost my office and got kicked back to the hallway.

Lulu got her butt reamed for ten minutes because Turbo Bitch forgot what we told her two days before.

The new receptionist is a whiney ass ..... AND SHE STOLE MY EFFIN' SCISSORS.

To quote Stevie Nicks:

"The sea changes colors, but the sea, does not change."

Anywho, there's more.. so much more.. but I don't want to get myself all in a wad again. I've spent the past months sucking up and trying to be welcoming of the newest members of our staff, but this past week, they flipped the bitch switch.

In other news, I've been avoiding FB and Twitter mainly because of politics. Scratch that.. mainly because of Donald Trump. I even got my ass handed to me by George Lopez on Twitter.  Time for a reality check.

Also, I'm paranoid as hell at work to use the internet. They gave us the wiffy password, even put a access thingie in the hall, right outside my office. All I need is my phone to auto log on to FB and I'm toast. Or maybe not. I'm not sure. So.. no innerwebs at work.

Anyone know anything about phone encryption?

Back at the trailer, I've been working my ass off trying to get stuff back in order.

I know, Same ol' Song and Dance.

So far, I've gotten rid of the old entertainment center and the ginormous box tv. (I say got rid of, but they're piled on the front porch. The county wants 15 bucks to toss a tv. WTF???) I got a book case to ease the scatter of books every damn where. The fireplace has been beautified with some remote controlled candles from the dolla store.

I'm getting there.

But right now? The laundry room smells like skanky cat butt and there are dishes piled to kingdom come.

I'd better get on that.

Ya'll have a great holiday and hang in there. We're all gonna make it.

Later Taters!!

And Now I Can Breathe

Lord ya'll, it's been a while.

Let's start with The Asylum since that seems to be where most of the tales worth telling are brewing.

First off, Gorilla Head, while sorta smart assy (and who among is not.. on occasion,) has gone out of his way to make sure I have anything I need, been helpful and willing to do most of what I've asked of him. He has a whole new attitude.

Lulu, Kat and I were discussing Gorilla Head and his strange personality change today. The general consensus is that it's because of the new company. It has been repeated by the new management, over and over again, that they want us to be happy.. that they need us and want us to look forward to coming to work every day.

This is a new concept to all of us and we are constantly dumbfounded by the Germans. They look at us, what we've had to work with for the past 20 years and shake their heads. They constantly voice their amazement at what we've accomplished with so little.

There are rumors of brick walls being knocked out and windows being put in. By the first of the year, our archaic DOS based inventory control system will be replaced by the latest version, our effed up phone system will be replaced by VOIP and there will be fiber optic innerwebs.

Beginning October 1st, we'll have new health insurance. The cost will be about the same, but we'll go back to having a copay instead of a redunkulous deductible.

I damned near cried when I heard that little tidbit.

Today I got called back to the conference room for a one on two meeting with the new Business Administrator and Gorilla Head. I was briefed on the general plans for the near future, then she told me they wanted to acknowledge my past experience with the company and apologize for the lack of compensation we'd all experienced over the years.

Remember when I was job hunting and I said I'd consider driving an hour each way to Big City for $30K a year?

Well now I can stay in The Holler for $29K. It comes out to like.. $3 an hour more, effective immediately.

I did cry after that.

Last week, I took my 401K and paid off the house. When I called the tax office to find out what was owed, I discovered that if it had not been settled up before the end of this year, they would have started the process to take the property. I didn't have enough to pay it all off, but I can catch it up to 2012 and they said I can make payments on the rest.

If all this hadn't happened when it did... well.. that's some Divine intervention right there.

A new riding lawn mower is coming soon and I'm finally going to replace my gigantor square television with a sleek new one. I will, of course, still get a refurb bewb tube from the big electronics store.. because it's cheaper and just as good.

But this weekend?

I'M GITTIN' MY NAILS DID!!!! I might even splurge and get my toesies all purtified too.. but maybe not. I don't know.

Let's don't get crazy.

So now, there will be no more trying every farking thing on the innerwebs to make extra money. No more selling Little Bunny Poopoo on Etsy or writing mind numbing articles for .03 a word. No more experimenting with blog ads or trying to sell Amazon stuff on Twitter.

I can go to work every day and come home to some version of an actual life... like a normal feckin' human being.

Ya'll may have to help with that. I'm not sure I'll know what to do with myself.

We'll talk again soon. I gotta go get The Amazon out of bed and send her off to work.

Later Taters!!

The Light at the End of the Tunnel

I've got time for a quick update, details coming soon!

The German invasion of The Cubicle Asylum was successful. There was one German, the CEO of the new company. A tall, somewhat attractive older man, with a kind smile who likes his coffee strong and his people to work hard and be happy.

The new crew also brought Gorilla Head in sales. He was here for two days and will return on Monday. During his brief visit, he hacked phlegm, churned snot and gagged all over my office. The saving grace of disinfectant spray delivered me from getting the full fledged crud.

The GM's office is now occupied by a little gnome of a feller, a pudgy, happy little man who is, bless his heart, doing his best to figure out how in the hell we did business for so long with so little to work with.

They have all made lots of promises. Time will tell if they follow through.

No more does Twatwaffle screech down the hall, constantly clicking her pen in frustration or breathe down my neck. She was not part of the deal. She was offered a position with the new company, but opted to stay with the tyrannical bastids that ruled over us for the past 20 years.

Our 401K accounts were frozen as of August 16th, so the current stock market craziness hasn't effected our stash and... I'm cashing in. It looks like by this time next week, my house will be paid off, the back taxes will be taken care of and.. maybe.. I'll have enough left to get a riding lawn mower.

This means, I'll be able to afford heating oil for the winter and I'll be able to like.. actually pay my bills. I'll be able to live on what I make. By "live," I mean, buying groceries and not constantly worrying about the electricity or the water being cut off.

I feel like there is hope and at the same time, I'm afraid to be happy.

I'll work on that.

I PROMISE there will be more details soon. I have to tell you about TW's latest family drama, stuff I heard from Gorilla Head's former assistant and back at the trailer, new critters!

We'll talk soon ya'll.

Later Taters!

Gorilla Head

At 3pm Monday, it became official. The Germans now own The Asylum. Yesterday they announced the hire of the new sales manager, Gorilla Head. Ya'll remember Gorilla Head, the former sales rep who worked here for a whole 24 hours before getting axed for trying to work here while staying on the payroll at his rep firm, then called our corporate office and basically said I was an idiot and useless.

Today is his first day. I am so medicated, I've got chubby winged cherubs riding rainbows out my ass.

When I first found out, I was all to pieces. But now, I'm channeling my inner badass.

I got this new tv thing at home where I can watch basic cable over the internet for $20 a month. I watched reruns of Intervention all day Sunday and noticed that most of the people on there had turned to self destruction after being abused, sexual and otherwise, in their childhoods. It got me to thinking, I've been through some chit ya'll and yet.. I keep going

I'm a strong woman.

I ain't afraid of no Gorilla Head.

Stay tuned!

Later Taters

The Latest and Greatest from Frog Pond Holler

Hey ya'll. There's so much crap going on, I don't know where to start, so let's just jump right in, shall we?

The Cubicle Asylum:
It's official. The Germans are definitely coming. August 3rd is our final inventory. The Big Headed German and his crew over at the other plant will continue to do our bean counting until the end of the year, but reporting to The Germans instead of the craptastic, soul sucking company we currently work for. From what I've been able to gather and piece together from assorted conversations, nothing much should change before the end of the year.

Don't get me wrong, I fully realize that The Germans could well be just as soul sucking, if not more, but at least it's a change.

Twatwaffle has been in a constant state of pre-nervous breakdown for weeks, breaking out in hives and flitting around like a hummingbird with a Starbucks habit. I'm sure she fears losing her job and for good reason, but we'll see.

There is speculation that they may bring back Ol' Gorilla Head, the sales manager that lasted a whole 24 hours, getting fired when it was discovered that he was still employed by the rep firm he came from. If that happens, this old girl will be going to the house. I can't stand his hateful ass while working with him as a sales rep, I damned sure ain't working for him. He's a lying snake, sucking up to your face and talking shit behind your back. Gorilla Head sealed his fate with me when he called the corporate office and complained about me, after his 24 hours were up.

Jerk.

Shady Pines:
Ma left the nervous hospital after a two week stay and went back to the home. I've only gotten to talk to her once since then, every time I call she's making her rounds, playing the social butterfly, and they can't find her to put her on the phone. The one time we did chat, she seemed much happier and content. The nurses say she's a different person. While the staff at the home seems to think she's cured and this is how she'll be, I know from experience that it's only temporary and she'll tire of putting on the happy act. Eventually she'll end up back at the nervous hospital, months or a year from now, but that's the ebb and flow of life with Ma at this point.

All the Kinfolk:
I'm pretty much done with all of them, including Aunt Moses. Their racist mouths and confederate flag waving attitudes make me ill. I tried to overlook things, citing closed minded ignorance and the possibility that they'd all been bounced on the noggin a few times, hoping they'd step up and take some of the responsibility for Ma. Their sister raised and took care of all of them at different stages in their lives. All I asked was that they call her once in a while, maybe stop by when they were out that way, but no. They don't even ask.

To hell with them.

So Done.

Around the Holler:
There's a sign up at the store saying the town garbage truck is in the shop so trash day has been moved from Monday to Thursday. Hopefully I can cajole The Amazon to haul my load to the dump tomorrow.

Since the whole confederate flag brouhaha, there are giant ones flying from the front porches of double wides all over the holler. Aunt Moses is even sporting a shiny new confederate front plate on her little Ranger. These people have never even known a black person and none of them are as lily white as they think they are, which gives me quiet satisfaction.

There was a letter to the editor in the local paper last week, from a Florida tourist who over heard the town cop making anti-gay and racist comments down at the Grab n' Go (and go and go.) He says she's mistaken, but I know him and I'm pretty sure he probably said it.

This from the man who looks so non-white that he was racially profiled while trying to enter the Big City Civic Center right after 9/11.

I don't get people.

Meanwhile, Back at the Trailer:
The grass is butthole high to a Sasquatch. The little old guy that was cutting it for me stopped as suddenly as he began. It's been around 90ish the past few weeks and I'm sorry but, my fat old ass just can't shelp around the half acre pushing the mower through it all after 8-9 hours at The Asylum.

I don't even care.

I've been out of FMF meds for two weeks now. So far I've been pretty lucky with my joints, but I have had periods of horrible muscle pain, so much so that I had to leave work for a couple of hours last week. I ordered a refill from India and it's been sitting in customs for five days now. The DEA will probably be here in a day or two to pick me up.

Whatever.

I won't be making my September doctor's appointment. The Big City practice has "dismissed" me due to an unpaid bill. My last visit came to a whopping $200, after insurance, and I don't have the money, so I guess I'll be going back to the HeeHaw clinic. I'll be cancelling my insurance at the end of the year, one way or another. If the new company doesn't have something better to offer, I'll be going to BCBS of NC. $35 a month vs. $160 and it actually covers stuff. It says something about the company I work for, the insurance industry and the state of our society when I can't afford the employer supplied insurance, but qualify for a low income discount for private coverage.

Chew on that for a second.

I'm all for the $15 minimum wage. I'll get a $3 raise.

Anywho,

Currently there are no less than 5 bags of trash tied up in the kitchen. I've been on a cleaning spree. I spend every Saturday and Sunday morning running the dishwasher and cleaning out cabinets, hurrying to get as much done as I can before it gets too hot. The only cool rooms are the bedrooms, so we spend most of our time holed up in there. I have a big a.c. on the porch to put in the kitchen window, but I can't lift it and it needs to be braced up, so it doesn't like.. yank the window out.

The kitchen is looking less and less condemable, so there's that.

We've lost three chickens this summer, two to the heat and Queen Latifa, who apparently stuck her head under the gate and got hung. All that's left are Shanaynay and Cordelia.

Maybe I'll get more next spring.

So this weekend it's been more of the same. Working on laundry pile number 2, washing lots of dishes, bagging up shit we've not touched in 10 years and trying to figure out how to juggle the light bill, the house payment and the cut off notice for the water bill that came in the mail yesterday.

Such is life.

Currently jamming to this, singing at the top of my lungs to Ayla, who's curled up beside my chair.




She keeps opening her eyes and looking at me like, "Do you mind?"

Everyone's a critic.

Ya'll have an awesome weekend... and week. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!

Anxiety, Mental Health and Real Pizza

Someday....

 I worked half a day on Tuesday, so that T.A. and I could go visit Ma down at the nervous hospital. Visiting hours are 11:30 to 1:00 and 7:30 to 8:30. We had to shoot for the latter, so we had some time to kill. We piled in her little hatchback and headed to Big City.

The first stop was the grocery store to get some prescriptions filled. $60 worth of prescriptions. Why isn't vitamin D on the $3 list? Seems kind of redunkulous that it's the most expensive thing.

While I waited, I scoped out the near-death mark down foliage. I've been working on making my office mine. Since I moved to the former manager's spot, (just the office and most of the responsibility, none of the pay or benefits,) I've kind of felt like a squatter. Comments have been made, mainly by The Groper, not to get to comfy because eventually they'll hire a new sales manager and I'll have to move.

Well screw that bullhockey.

The other day, I brought in a lamp for my desk, a little $7 one from the dollar store. By the way everyone acted, you'd have thought I'd trucked in a purple crushed velvet living room suite. I can't wait to see what kinda brouhaha I'll stir up with a half dead philodendron.

Anyhooters, after I picked up my drugs, we headed out to the far side of Big City. We found a little hole-in-the-wall pizza place, family owned, fading paint on the outside, just up the road from Shirley the Psychic. It has been years since I've had a real pizza. Here in the holler, you can get one from the Grab n' Go (and go and go) made with frozen crust, gross, salty sauce and whatever lunchtime leftovers they can find.

When our waitress sat the pie on our table, honest to gawd, I had to wipe drool off my chin.

Sometimes I miss civilization.

We also stumbled upon a brand new bead store with great prices and a huge selection. I really miss making jewelry, maybe if I can find a good magnifying glass on a stand or something I can get back in to it. I'm good for about 30 minutes before all those little seed beads get blurry and start to run together. 

As we pulled in to the hospital parking lot, ominous clouds formed and everything turned gray. I debated whether or not to swallow a nerve pill before going inside, then decided against it. I've not had to take an emergency anxiety pill in a long time, I could tough it out.

Bad call.

We passed a large family of Hispanic people in the waiting room who were muttering comments about the two fat people passing them and giggling amongst themselves. I damn near launched my fat ass from the elevator like a heat seeking missile. I stopped putting up with that shit years ago. No longer do I bow my head and scurry past in shame. I will straight up put the truck in park and get out in the middle of the street if I catch anyone flapping their pie hole at me and especially my child.

The only thing that stopped me from possibly being arrested and being admitted down the hall from Ma was the quick closing elevator doors.

On the second floor, I had to ring the bell at the locked steel door and give Ma's security code to be let in. They took my purse, our keys and cellphones and led us to Ma's room. She was sitting up in the bed, restrained at the waist, her feet twitching, face dripping with perspiration, her expression one of confusion and agitation.

Ma took one look at me, tears filled her eyes and she pleaded, "Don't you leave me here."

That was pretty much the gist of our visit.

She cried and begged. She told me not to come up there again if I wasn't gong to take her home. She went from sad face to angry mom face, making demands and threats.

I had to step out in the hall and get the tears out once or twice. I didn't want her to see me cry.

Forgive me if I sound like a drama queen, but to me it was a horrific experience. I am not emotionally prepared to be the adult in our relationship.

When our hour was up, she cried and clung to us both. We finally had to just walk away. In that moment, I wanted to die.

The chubby little nurse with the perma-smile kept insisting that I tell her why I was crying, asking if there was anything she could do for me. Inside I was thinking, "If you don't open that fuckin' door I'm going to knock you in the head with my over-filled purse." Eventually she did and I fled.

The Amazon, bless her heart, was the voice of calm throughout the whole ordeal. During the two hour ride home, she had to listen to me babble, a nervous verbal diarrhea, all the way back to the holler. I jumped from one topic to the other, from my dad to my aunt's alcoholic rants to shit that happened with I was in kindergarten.

I'm not even sure what the hell I went on about. It's an anxiety thing.

The next day, I called the hospital to speak with Ma's nurse. She told me that Ma was going through classic drug withdraw, that she'd been that way since she got there and they'd started weaning her off all the medication the nursing home had put her on. I made comments about Shady Pines' inability to manage her mental health issues and implied that maybe that wasn't the best place for her. The nurse assured me that the doctor and possibly a social worker would be in touch with me to discuss other arrangements if that were deemed necessary.

It was possibly a mistake to make this call from the office.

I started worrying about what the nurse meant. I mean, it had taken me a long time to find a nursing home that would take Ma. The ones here in Hee-Haw county don't accept patients with mental health problems, other than those associated solely with aging.

What if she meant she'd have to go to an actual like... asylum to live? There's only one in the region, the state run facility in Morganton. The thought filled me with that gut churning doom feeling. Morganton is about two hours past Big City.

I decided to Google it. This has been the week of bad decisions.

If you want relief from anxiety about a loved one going in to a state run mental health facility, DO NOT do a Google image search. 

It took me 'til bedtime that night to convince myself that the nurse never said Ma was going to the state asylum. Over the span of a few hours, I had myself worked in to frantic state of panic, guilt, sadness and hopelessness.

This is my brain on anxiety.

It's important to note, I didn't tell anyone, not The Amazon or Lulu, no one, about the phone call to the nurse or the resulting downward spiral of mental garbage. Having allowed one's own mind to turn against them is embarrassing. T.A. would have simply said, "Stop that!" while Lulu would have just looked at me like I was crazy, that sad look you give old people who've finally gone off their rocker.

So today, I slept. I made my morning coffee at 3 o'clock. My brain is tired.

I've got crap to do. I'll probably come to life at bedtime. Right now, I'm just fighting the urge to go back to sleep.

We'll talk again soon, ya'll take care. Thanks for listening.

Later Taters.

Shady Pines, Engineers and Staying Human

It's official. Underbewb sweat season is upon us... and I don't like it.

I've spent most of the weekend doing laundry. Loads and loads of laundry. A couple of weeks ago, our snazzy new Panda washer was delivered. It doesn't do a whole load at a time, but it uses less water (and electricity) so no more worries about flooding the potty palaces with pewp water when the sewage backs up (as it tends to do in the holler.)

After at least a year of washing everything by hand, you have no idea how thankful I am. It's not so much the washing that does me in, it's the dumping of the heavy tub, the wringing out and the taking two days for crap to dry. The new gadget spins the ever living snot out of the clothes (it sounds like the sombitch is gonna take off,) and they're dry after hanging inside for a couple of hours. As we speak, the pole in the laundry room (for hanging clothes, not for shaking my groove thang) is full, as is the shower curtain rod.

Now I'll have to clean out my closet to make room and buy more hangers.

After I cleaned up everything that was in the floor around the laundry basket and labored for 8 hours straight on Saturday, the pile is the same size it was when I started.

How the crap does that even happen?

Anywho...

Last week at The Asylum was busy as crap. I worked through lunch a couple of days and stayed through 'til 6. By the time Friday rolled around, I was tired. I really wasn't pleased when I pulled up that morning to find that Kat was still on vacation, Tiny and Thelma were taking the day off and TW's father-in-law had gone to the hereafter sometime in the night. Lulu left around 10ish (she comes in at the ass crack of dawn and had her 40 hours in) and The Groper called in to inform us that.. and I quote.. "I can't get off the terlit!"

That left me and the Baby Engineer in the office with Wally out in the tool crib, doing his purchasing thang.

Of course I don't have a problem with TW being out, hell I was glad she wasn't there. With the various personal dramas she's been dealing with the past couple of weeks, she needs some time off to get her head together. Tiny, on the other hand, takes off every freakin' Friday. As the Engineering manager, you would have thought he'd have come to work after TW emailed everyone that she'd had a death in the family.

Since I was there, basically alone with the switchboard (The Baby Engineer doesn't count, in our office, if you have a tallywhacker you don't have to help answer the phone) and everything else I have to do, I streamed Wayward Pines while I worked and actually got a lot done.

Have ya'll been watching Wayward Pines? Did chit not get real freaky all of a sudden???

Sometime Thursday afternoon, I got a call from the nervous hospital. Apparently Shady Pines was supposed to have called to inform me that they were arranging a room for Ma. This was the first I'd heard of it, as a matter of fact, I'd just talked to them the day before and they assured me Ma was doing much better after they increased her psych meds. The lady from the nervous hospital was very nice, but also kinda pissy over Shady Pines and told me she'd call back later.

About an hour later, I got the call from the social worker at Shady Pines, who was angry at the lady from the nervous hospital for calling me first. After she got her feisty little ass calmed down, she told me Ma wasn't actually any better, depressed, hallucinating and bordering on suicidal.

In other words, I don't have a freakin' clue of what the fudge is actually going on. I'm getting pretty annoyed with everyone involved.

So THEN, the lady from the nervous hospital called me back while I was in the bathroom for an extended and somewhat tense visit. I was in there sweating, trying to be quiet and ya know... accomplish some things... while I answered Ma's medical history questions. I don't think she suspected anything. Apparently I'm a ninja pewper. She ended the call by telling me that they hoped to have a bed soon, possibly that evening.

I didn't hear from anyone all day Friday, so I assumed they were still waiting for a bed. I mean, I had the switchboard and several huge quotes to work on, I figured they'd call me when they had more details.

Late Friday afternoon, I got a call on my cell from the psychiatrist at the nervous hospital. Apparently Ma had been there since the previous night, had been seen, tested and her meds adjusted.

She'd been transferred clear to the other side of Big City and no one had bothered to call me.

What the actual friggen hell?

When the doctor called, I just let the switchboard ring. I had reached that effit stage of caring. It kinda ticks me off when I'm there at The Asylum, trying to keep chit running and getting my work done while everyone else is off dealing with the personal crap. I HAVE PERSONAL CRAP.

The doc said he didn't think Ma's problem had anything to do with being bipolar or dementia. He said he took one look at her list of meds and wondered how the hell she was even able to form a complete sentence.

Me and The Amazon are planning to drive out there on Tuesday when she's off work. Gas is way cheaper in her car than in Jolene. The nervous hospital is like... 2 hours away.

I've been in a funk for most of today. Gollygeewillickers...I wonder why?

While I'm super thankful that I got that monster pile of clothes washed yesterday, it took it's toll on me. I haven't been worth a chit today.

My house is slowly coming together, I just have to do what I can, when I can and learn to cut myself a break when I over do it. I have to remind myself that I'm not lazy and I'm doing all I can.

In other words, I don't suck. I'm only human.

On a side note, there is now a link to my Flickr account in the sidebar. There are a few more pictures from our Mother's Day adventure. I hope to add more soon, I found my camera charger and the card reader. I miss taking pictures.

Anywho, that's the latest from the holler. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!

More Than One Mama Bear Can Take

Here at The Asylum, it's been a bad week to be a Mom.

On Tuesday, I was answering emails when I received a call from Lulu on an outside line. I didn't even know she'd left. She was calling from the DG in town, looking for Benadryl. Her mom had called to tell her that her son, Mitch, had been stung by a bee while working outside and was swelling up like a balloon. Lulu grabbed the drugs and dropped them off with her mom and rushed back to work. A little later, when I went to ask how he was doing, she was gone again. I called Thelma to ask if Lulu'd left again, looked up and there she was, standing in my doorway. She'd been to the clinic and back.

Lulu's got mad ninja skizzles.

Mitch ended up at the Hee Haw clinic with Dr. Methuselah, 2 shots in his belly, one in his hip and 2 more.. I don't even want to know where. They said if he'd waited any longer he'd be dead.

The docs down at the Hee Haw clinic don't embrace the practice of "bedside manner."

Today, Mitch is doing fine, but Lulu is in sticker shock after finding out they wanted to charge $400 for epipens for him to carry. Mitch's income is so low, he doesn't even have to have Obamacare, so no insurance. Lulu called around and found someone with a sample pack so her youngun doesn't up and die, seeing how he cuts trees for a living and is bound to run across a bee or two again. In the mean time, I found a manufacturer that offers free pens to low income people, so she's got that for next time.

On Tuesday afternoon, after being holed up in her office all day with the door closed, leading to all sorts of speculation around the office of plant shut downs, mass firings... all kinda stuff.. Twatwaffle came to my office and shut the door.

"This is it.. I'm fired," I thought.

She leaned back against the door, muttering something about informing her top notch team, began shaking all over and hyperventilating.

With her 96 year old father-in-law in hospice and her mother facing surgery for the lifelong effects of rheumatoid arthritis, I assumed something really bad had happened to one of them. I walked over and put my arms around her.. anything to stop her from shaking. Between panting breaths, struggling to speak, she squeezed out the words, "Monday night.. my son... OD'd... on heroin."

I was flabbergasted. Her son, barely 21, had the world handed to him his whole life. TW has a daughter and three beautiful grand babies, but this boy, this was her baby.

"His... skin was gray... I.. I.. had to do.. CPR... on my baby boy."

That night, he'd come in late and asked her to make him something to eat. She told him no, she was tired, what with running to the assisted living place, taking her mom on doctor visits and running this place. She told him she was going to bed. He is grown after all, surely to gawd he can go make himself a friggen sandwich.

But then she felt guilty, as we all do and went back upstairs to toss some chicken in the fryer. She told herself it wouldn't take ten minutes, then she could sleep, guilt free. As she puttered around the kitchen, she heard him go in to the bathroom, but, after a reasonable amount of time, didn't hear him come out. She banged on the door, but he never answered. When she pushed her way through, she saw him there in the floor, not breathing, with the needle hanging out of his arm.

It would be traumatic enough if you knew your child was doing the hard stuff, but TW had no clue. I can not even begin to fathom what must have gone through her mind.

She yelled for the Bubbahubby to call 911 and began CPR, or at least, the best she could from what she'd seen them do on T.V. When the paramedics arrived, they popped him with a syringe of Narcan and hauled him to the E.R.

Today, TW's baby boy is doing ok, other than facing a court date for possession charges and ya know.. being a heroin addict. TW and her Bubbahubby on the other hand, are all to pieces. I think both their worlds have pretty much been blown to smithereens in the past week.

In the middle of all this feckin' Mama Drama, Thelma put her baby boy on a plane to Argen-fudgin-tina. He met a nice South American girl while working at a ski lodge in Colorado this past winter and decided to pack up his stuff and head way south of the border.

Thelma is nervous, but okay with it. Her Bubbahubby and her mother-in-law are not and are blaming Thelma for "letting" him do it.

The boy is 19. What's she supposed to do? Lock him in the basement?

Lulu said Thelma's brother-in-law even stood up in church last Sunday and asked for prayers for Thelma's baby boy to see the error in his ways, shaking his head and putting on a good floor show.. and embarrassing the beejeebus out of Thelma.

So while I feel lucky that back at my trailer, the worst thing I'm dealing with is The Amazon's swollen ankle and her lack of enthusiasm for helping with the dishes, I've still had my share of anxiety fueled chest pain this week.

As much as TW gets on my last nerve, I honestly do not think I could survive the week she's had. My heart aches for all three of them,

It's hard to be a Mama, yo. The struggle is real.

We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!

Hump It Like You Mean It

Humpday is upon us. All hail Humpday.

This Humpday is especially sweet because I'm off for four days straight after Friday. I decided to take a couple of days off that weren't for doctor's appointments or mammograms or anything else. The Amazon, who is off on Mondays and Tuesdays, is taking vacation on Saturday and Sunday, so we'll both be home to take care of some major tasks around the compound that neither of us can do alone.

We have pallets piled in the front yard and T.A. has part of them coated with water seal stuff. If we accomplish nothing else during those 4 days, we will be able to get them moved around back and stacked in to a makeshift porch. The hardest part will be digging the old broken steps out of the dirt, which were buried, compliments of Dubya and Ma.

Hopefully I'll be able to get those friggen raised beds in before it's too late... again and chop down a few smaller trees. We need to get more light in to the chicken coop. Sunlight = more eggs.

I have a list as long as your arm but I'm trying to be realistic. My body hasn't been very cooperative for the past year or so when it comes to doing anything major. Dr. Laurie used her pull to get me an appointment with a Rheumatologist on my insurance. There's only one and they're booked up for the next 12 months. Maybe they can give me more drugs.. or a swift kick in the keister.. whatever works.

Back at The Asylum, we've all moved beyond the wondering if we're being bought stage because honestly, what the hell else could it be? We've moved on to wondering about our seniority, vacation time and 401K nest egg.

It has to be better, right?

Anywho, ya'll have a good one. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!

P.S.

I think I should get one of these for my desk.. perfect for The Asylum.. because I am the sales ninja!

The Cubicle Asylum: The Plot Thickens Like a Pot of Hasenpfeffer

Wednesday morning began with the announcement of a meeting by Twatwaffle.

Speculation ran like wildfire through the office. There were already rumors being passed around (by me mostly) of an unscheduled inventory on May 1st. Thelma had let it slip when we were discussing who would do what to keep her job covered while she was on vacation in Colorado. We normally do inventory every October. 

Something was up.

We all filed in to the break room and took our seats while TW made her announcements in her exagerated executive hickified accent.

"I am 98% sure that The Germans are ready to make a substantial financial investment in us. Therefore, tomorrow morning we will be having company here to inspect the property and tomorrow afternoon there will be people from the state here. As you all know, if you were ready to invest a substantial amount of money in a business, you want to know that they have what they say they do."

She also said she'd been "up to her knees and elbows in due dilligence for months."

I'm still trying to translate that last bit.

On Tuesday, after everyone else had left, she went around the office counting phone jacks and making a list. 

One of the welders flat out asked if we were being bought. She raised her voice and changed the subject, talking over him.

Another asked if a "substantial financial investment means we'll get a raise.. finally?" To which she again, raised her voice, changing the subject.

Personally, I don't care what they do. I'm good either way. If they come in and fire us all, I'll cash in that 401K, pay off the house and ride my unemployment for a while. If they keep us, I imagine I'll tow the line a little bit longer. 

We'll just have to see what happens.

Now I gotta go sell those Robot Monkeys. No rest for the Sales Ninja!

Ya'll have a good one, we'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!

Springtime in the Holler

Lawd ya'll, The Asylum is driving me nutso. The head engineer is pretending to be the sales manager and doing chit that we're not supposed to do, then dumping it in my lap to take care of and the GM is running up and down the hall clicking her pen and showing her ass.

In other words, it's business as usual at The Asylum.

Back on the home front, it's been a wild couple of weeks. I've had to make several extra trips to and from Big City, between Ma (who has gone completely 'round the bend again,) mammograms and checkups. I'm looking forward to the weekend when I (hopefully) won't have to leave the house. My grass is already high enough to camouflage Sasquatch. It's going to take me three days to wrangle my little mower through it all. I've got tree limbs hanging over the fence, one sticking directly in my chimney (probably not a good thing) and butt load of branches and crap to pick up.

And that's just outside.

Frog Pond Holler is buzzing with new life. The hippies have come out of their winter hibernation, smelling of ripe sweat and patchouli. The hillfolk have made their way down off the mountain for supplies after the long winter and the tourists have started trickling in.

The little grocery in the middle of town has started selling soft serve ice cream and burgers, giving the Grab and Go (and go and go) serious competition. The manager also makes a different variety of pudding every day. It's like banana pudding, but with strawberries, pineapple or Oreos. He only makes small batches,  so when there's pudding in the case, word flies around town and we all do the fat girl waddle down there to get some before the tourists snatch it up.

He's killin' my blood sugar.

Anywho, I guess I'd better get to it. I've already gone off on two people today and I've got a meeting in a bit. I'd better do some actual work first.

Ya'll have a good one.

Later Taters!!

The Asylum: Better than a Soap Opera

Last week, Twatwaffle called Tiny and me to her office to get our advice on which sales reps to invite down for a corporate mandated pow-wow with the Germans. We offered our suggestions, provided her with contact information and thought that was the end of it. 

But no one wanted to come, which kinda cracked me up.

Corporate wasn't going to admit to the Germans that we no longer have any relationship with our sales reps at all, so they came up with their own list. In the end, there were two sales reps out of a list of about 35, one German and his interpreter. One of the reps was Larry, a jolly, white haired feller who is all salesman, 100% lovable bullshit artist. The other was the gorilla head lookin' mother effer that was hired as sales manager between Bossholio and Doctah Chili and lasted all of 24 hours. He had neglected to mention that he was still employed by his old company, running it even, while working for us. 

Conflict of interest much?

Let's stop here and review a few things, shall we?

1. Corporate asked for Magilla Gorilla to be invited, yet they knew his history.. hell.. they're the ones that told TW she had to fire him. 

2. Sparkles now works for the Germans, driving two hours to work each day.

3. TW confided that Sparkles, through the Germans, is still calling some of the shots.

Just file that stuff away, as Thelma would say, "in the important part of your brain." I have a feeling it will be significant later.

Once inside, they were tempted by goodies:

Grocery store cookies, a cup of leftover Christmas candy and some cheap bottled water, displayed lovingly on a wrinkled old sheet, still bearing Mickey Mouse and clown patches from Twatwaffle's 25 year old son's youth. 

For someone who thinks she's all high fallootin' and better than the rest of us, you'd think she'd have enough friggen sense to pick up a plastic tablecloth from the dollar store.

Anywho...

Below is the view that greeted our guests upon arrival:

Some of the steps at the main entrance fell off. Literally just crumbled and tumbled to the ground. No one's even swept up the crumbs. That's masking tape ensuring our safety.

Seriously. I took pictures just to prove that I don't make this shit up.

I don't know what happened during the meeting. No one from corporate showed up. Why would this German company want to meet our sales reps? 

Larry stepped out of the meeting early, hollering back "Ya'll have a nice visit," then came up to my office to talk business. I got the impression he wasn't really being included in the conversation.

I'll bet ya'll a dollar that by fall, Big Ol' Gorilla Head will be the new sales manager.. and I will be gone. This man got fired for playing both ends against the middle, then called corporate and said I was talking smack about him to his former coworkers (which I did not.) 

My tolerance for BS is dwindling fast. If that happens, I'm riding my unemployment check until I get my head screwed back on straight then finding employment elsewhere. 

I honestly don't think my nerves will take it. 

Anyhooters... 

The plot thickens. I'll keep ya'll posted.

 Later Taters!