The Song Remains the Same, Of Course
Monday, Jan. 01, 2007 at 12:21 p.m.
On this day in 1946, Emperor Hirohito descends from being a divine being to mere mortal man. General MacArthur insisted on it.
Also on this day in 1976, Potheads alter the "HOLLYWOOD" sign to read "HOLLYWEED". Way to go!
Happy New Year to everyone out there! I hope that your hangover lifted and that any and all drunken antics were caught on film. Hubster and I did our usual New Year�s Eve agenda: we went to sleep. Oh, my, we are the ultra-jet-setters, ne? Neither one of us are wild animals � I did much more than my fair share of brain-cell-killing-nonsense and Hubster never really started. Also, I was feeling tenuous as I contracted Hubster�s tummy bug by the time Thursday rolled around. Oh, and I have a bitchy-witchy story about that as well.
Thursday, I woke up feeling a bit urpy, etc. and I thought that, well, the fat-laden food I�ve been stuffing my maw with has finally taken its toll, along with the fact that at work we were falling headlong into the weirdness of moving into a new building while at the same time constantly maintaining seamless customer service while being at the mercy of numbnuts at a phone switch on the other side of the country who are more interested in starting the three-day-weekend a couple of days early. So I was already feeding off the toxic energy of D, the erstwhile �manager� who had been in a state of apoplexy the past two weeks; however, her apoplexy didn�t spur her enough to actually be proactive about heading off potential problems, or at least chilling out enough to roll with the problems as they happened. As per usual.
But anyway, about mid-day, I let two of the other main offices know that I was going off-line, and the phones were being switched (again, by a short-timing-numb-nuts 2000 miles away) and I loaded by box of crap into my chair and rolled it across the parking lot inot the new building. I didn�t have an opportunity to eat any lunch because boss-lady was incommunicado and there was no one to answer the phones for 2 minutes for me to take a piss, much less dash over to the deli to grab some soup and a sammich. And I was feeling a bit ooky by now. So I got my boxes piled into what I thought was going to be my cube (I�ve already moved since) and I got some low-down on how the phones were working (all 4 analog lines of them) and I realized that the aforementioned numbnuts had actually switched over the wrong phone number to said analog lines (actual numbnuts quote: �I didn�t think you wanted to get all the phone calls from the toll free number.� Uh, that�s what I do. That�s my job description. Numbnuts.) and by now I couldn�t tell if the gnawing in my gut was due to some sort of vile ookiness or simple hunger. So I dashed over to the deli while boss-lady was whining down the phone line to the numbnuts. I ate some soup and a couple of bites of a sammich (tuna, very very very very very very very poor choice) and then I realized that my tummy trauma was leaning toward the former. I had already made my way to the ladies� room several times with, well, the trots. Ewww.
I was now concentrating on simply making it through the day, and it was getting close, but I kept getting steadily worse. I broke into a cold sweat, got very shaky, and then turned in my chair as if to rise and then found myself on the floor. The movers were standing over me and the guy in charge flew to my side with a cold towel on my neck and S kept asking me questions and I asked her to call the Hubster. Meanwhile, D boss-lady was snorting and saying, �What is your problem?� I replied that I was trying not to vomit, and she said, �It�s just the carpet fumes.� Unfortunately, the fumes were exacerbating the situation, and now I was on said carpet, and I said that I hadn�t been feeling well most of the day and I suspected that I might not be in tomorrow, and her response was, �No. That�s not going to work.�
Um. I�m lying on the floor, sweating and shivering, nearly to lose my innards completely and utterly from both ends at the same time and she�s saying that she doesn�t accept that I will not be coming in tomorrow?
Well, yes, that was what she was saying. Because then she�d have to work for four hours in the morning before DS got there because there was no one else to cover.
Hubster said I should have puked on her feet.
So Hubster showed up and he took me home and I proceeded to lose my innards entirely in between shivering and freezing despite being wrapped up in several blankets. I could not get warm to save my life. I think I started feeling better sometime on Sunday.
On the other hand, it jump-started some weight loss if I look only at the scale, but we all know that that�s water weight that will come back as soon as I rehydrate myself, so any way.
Gads.
But now I�m in my new cube, which is smaller than the old one and now I have to share with one of the third shift guys, but I�ve spent my time here today unpacking and now I have my drawer of snacks and my drawer of knitting and my picture of Hugh Laurie of House glowering down on me and I�m listening to the commentary of Nine Dead Gay Guys which is a rather funny movie. Very funny, as a matter of fact. Two young Irish lads come over to London looking for fortune but begin hustling for beer money in a gay bar. Not that they�re gay, it�s all about the money, but maybe Kenny�s gay. Maybe. Anyway, there is a body count of 9 gay guys plus 1 bonus person. Features Fish from Marillion. Really. It does.
Anyway, how about some resolutions? You mean other than bringing you weird photos and snarkiness? Nah, not really. I mean, I do feel a need to be more spiritual:
And be more open-minded about the relationships of others:
Oh, and of course, make fun of all photo evidence of redneck activity:
Happy 2007, Dear Friends!