Can I get a break?

Hey everyone,

As the title says, "Can I get a mother trucking break?!!!!?" I am so out of it, and so pissed at the world right now, I don't have any constructive bitching to do. What I am gonna do is just blow off some fucking steam!!!

Forgive me. I gonna have to release some pressure.

Today started of pretty fucking shitty. I wake up in a cold sweat and freezing. But at the time, the chill wasn't what was playing with my emotions. It was a headache. Bad. I think it was a combo or air pressure, weather change, dehydration, sinus congestion, and a message from my dark overlord. So after scrambling out of bed, turning the heat up and trying to gather my wits, I began the search for our box of Goody's powder. No such luck. I dump my person looking for Excedrin, nope. I finally come to grips with a sick reality. I have nothing to combat the headache. So I scarf down an antihistamine pill and two naproxen pills. Boy, what the hell was I thinking.

I make a mental note to speed up so I can get out of the house and stop at a grocery store for either Excedrin or Goody's. After getting dressed, I realized I have 20 minutes to get out of the house ( that's not including extra time to try to find a store open at 6:30 am in this god awful f-ing state). I haven't taken my blood pressure pills, brushed my teeth, put on make up, or brushed my hair. Even better, I still had to defrost my car ( the first morning in 2 weeks the temp happened to be below freezing), and move Hubby's SUV which was so considerately blocking me in the drive way. Let me back up a bit here. Last night, Hubby told me that he had to leave at the same time as me in the morning so, I needn't worry about the vehicle situation. At 6 this morning when I tried my futile attempts to wake him up, he finally told me that he would move his car at 7. I leave every morning for work at 6:30!. So, being totally pissed off, I figured walking away with some control was better than choking him out in his sleep.

At 6:30, I had given up the idea of stopping for headache meds. Not enough time. Especially since there was no where along the way to work to stop. My car was still frozen over and so was the SUV. I went ahead and backed Hubby's truck outta the driveway and parked it on the street. I tossed his keys on the kitchen table while screaming out hate obscenities, (which of course dead man sleeping did not hear) and I went to scrap the windows of my car. By the time I was done, it was 6:43 am. Great, I knew I was gonna be late.

The ride to work was a blur. One because I was traveling at about 93 miles and hour. The other reason, I think the antihistamine was beginning to kick in. God, I really need to remember I can't function on that stuff! I actually got to work 4 minutes early and the opening manager was 5 minutes late. At least that was looking up for me. The rest of the morning I could have skipped. Since my hours have been cut back, there is less time for me to do my tasks which apparently didn't get cut back with my hours. In fact they may have doubled. Also, return heaven. Along with me, others (especially cashiers) were also cut back and out. This morning there was only one cashier scheduled for the morning. So I spent pretty much all day at work behind the cash register. Guess what? That is an extra task. So that is not in my planned tasks, but is expected for you to do should the need arises. Since my coverage area includes the cash area, I'm always up there and I always get sucked into ringing.

Returns. More returns. Gosh, it takes so BLOODY long to do a return. A woman today brought in a hard cover book with no receipt and wanted full price in cash for it. No receipt? Then you are at the mercy of the "Store Credit" gods. The gods have decreed that with out a receipt a person returning an item will get the lost price on a store credit card. The woman brought in a bargain price hard cover book with the bargain bar code removed. Granted she might have gotten it as a gift, but why did she go into an Exorcist moment when I told her I could only give her store credit for the lowest price of that particular book, which in this case was $5.98? I think if she wasn't as wrinkled she might have spat on me.

Even worse than the return imps are the people that have store credit. I really just wanted to drop kick this woman. Usually when you have store credit, you get issued a card. Once the card balance falls below one dollar, the register automatically allows the cashier to give the patron the change. The card is taken and destroyed. So this woman in her fox fur coat ( the heads still attached) demands I give her the last two dollars on the card in dimes. I look at here with an odd perplexity. She goes on this five minute bitch about how she can't use two dollars in our overprice perversion of a retail store and tells me she doesn't care how I get it, but she wanted her two dollars in dimes immediately. So I ring for a manager to open the cash register. ( I can't do it. Only a manager or head cashier can do that). So while we're waiting , she shoots me this look of death. She picks up a chocolate bar sitting at the register and tells me to ring it up. The total came out to $2.95. She pays with the store credit (wiping the balance off) and counts out 95 cents in pennies!!!!!!! She snatches the receipt from me and the chocolate bar, and leaves the store. When the manager comes down, I tell him the story. He says in his best and most cheerful voice, "Don't you just hated it with bitchy old women don't get laid by their Mexican gardeners!" I laughed and rang up the next customer.

I met with our financial advisor today. We are now the proud owners of a savings account and life insurance policies. Yeah. Even more reasons for Hubby to get his knickers in a bunch and go on a rampage of lunacy. Speaking of which, even with a locked in, fixed interest rate, your mortgage can still change. Thanks to some kinda highly educated moron with a MBA, our mortgage is going up 180 dollars a month. Apparently last year we had an $1100 shortage in our escrow. Yes, I know that has nothing to do with our interest rate, but damn it, I was naive enough to think our mortgage wouldn't change. That's 180 reasons that will beheld against me at a later time, because some how this is my fault. As punishment, the extra money needed for escrow will probably be waved in my face, and the lack of money for massage school will be a result of my irresponsibility. I'm depressed enough. I don't even want to go there. Maybe another time.

We are in week 5 of Operation Bathroom Freedom. The walls were primed and two coats were slapped on the wall. Hammer really needs to get a dog. I came home and took Tylenol night time sinus thinking I would sleep for an hour and do some house work. Hammer came by to work on the bathroom. He was whining about his ex who still lives with him. I did however get to the bottom of his issue. Sex. It's always about sex with men. He believes that as a provider, he is entitled to it when and how ever he wants it. The main reason he is breaking up with her, other than her being a skanky whore with a skanky whore daughter, is she doesn't put out. I understand men require sex. Frankly, thinking about his need for sex 3 to 4 times a week made me really nauseous. The man is in no way attractive. He is not even accidentally, I got drunk of my ass attractive. Not even give me the date rape drug and put a paper bag over his face attractive. Sorry. Graphic, I know. He believes that regardless if the woman enjoys it or not, she is obligated to give up the pootang when her man wants it. Little disturbing. I didn't know that we had reverted back to being chimpanzees, but hey, I ain't got to bust his nut for him so, I just smiled and said, "Maybe she's just in a phase." He didn't understand why women don't want to have sex all the time, and why they use excuses like, tired, depressed, in pain, going to work. I then told him, " Maybe because that's what's going on in her world." The conversation went on, but at the end, I felt like I needed a shower to clean myself,and a toothbrush to induce vomiting. Needless to say, he needs to hurry the hell up and finish my bathroom , so I can go back to feeling somewhat innocent. Okay, not innocent, but my naive wycked self.

So I have bored you way to much with my day, and my white tea is getting cold. Oh, one more thing. If you are offered a cup of chocolate mint tea, just avoid it unless you like detoxing your system in overdrive.

Here's my send off:

I purchased a book called A Year with Rumi (daily readings), by Coleman Barks. Every day has a pearl from Mawlānā Jalāl ad-Dīn Muhammad Rūmī (awesome Persian poet). Okay, gotta update my profile. I am in love with Eastern philosophy and poetry. I am just getting into Persian poetry. So as I was saying, every date has it's on specific poem/ wisdom piece. Here is Jan1's poem:

A Just-Finishing Candle

A candle is made to become entirely flame.
In the annihilating moment
it has no shadow.

It is nothing but a tongue of light
describing a refuge.

Look at this
just-finishing candle stub
as someone who is finally safe
from virtue and vice,

the pride and the shame
we claim from those.

--Rumi

Lady Yokai