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Well, not really, although rain has been flirting with us for the last two days. Summer solstice has come and gone, and I am contemplating the state of my life.
By this time next year I would like to be in a better job. A different job. A job where I am no longer working for the corporate "yes-master" people I currently work for. Possibly a job that doesn't have as much bureaucratic bullshit and red tape. The damned bean counters are killing me. The meetings for the company and the stupid shit the company has me doing that is not supporting the client - y'know the people who pay us to work for them? I have to keep putting my *real* work on hold to keep the boss happy. Shit! Who the fuck d'you think pays our bills? Our clients you cheap-ass fuck. I cannot prioritize the company over the client, because my job is such that if I don't serve the client's needs when they have them we will hear about it loud and long, and guess what? Our usefulness to the client will go down. So no, while I understand that they want me to put the company first, for the good of the company (and in a round-about way this also puts the company first) I must serve the client first.
Fuckers. For this aggravation I get a piddly salary. Grrr.
Other irritants about work - this week they changed the spam filter software. I am getting about eight hundred percent *more* spam than I used to. All because we have to "re-teach" the software what spam is. Fucktards.
In other news, I have well and truly gotten Gwen hooked on Supernatural. All my fault, I admit. She is a bit of a monster about it, really. But it seems to have unlocked her fan-writing-spirit again. Although the crossovers she has cooking are wild and wacky. And she's shanghaied me into writing the next bit of one of them. Crack!fic is not my best strength, but every crack!fic needs a straight man (humor wise, *not* sexuality wise) and Sam is well suited to be the straight man to Dean's wise-crackin' smart-mouthed sarcasm.
I have so damn much to do this weekend it is not funny. I somehow (in the next few weeks) need to come up with 46 more (I got 24 last weekend) 1"x2"x4's. And I need to get foam. And and and... At least Gwen found the hammered texture spray-paint for plastic I was looking for. Yaye! I get to spray paint PVC pipe this weekend. Then I have a banner to finish. Sometime, I'd like to clean my house. Right now it is a bit of a nightmare.
Oy. I think I'll end the little rant-fest right there.
By this time next year I would like to be in a better job. A different job. A job where I am no longer working for the corporate "yes-master" people I currently work for. Possibly a job that doesn't have as much bureaucratic bullshit and red tape. The damned bean counters are killing me. The meetings for the company and the stupid shit the company has me doing that is not supporting the client - y'know the people who pay us to work for them? I have to keep putting my *real* work on hold to keep the boss happy. Shit! Who the fuck d'you think pays our bills? Our clients you cheap-ass fuck. I cannot prioritize the company over the client, because my job is such that if I don't serve the client's needs when they have them we will hear about it loud and long, and guess what? Our usefulness to the client will go down. So no, while I understand that they want me to put the company first, for the good of the company (and in a round-about way this also puts the company first) I must serve the client first.
Fuckers. For this aggravation I get a piddly salary. Grrr.
Other irritants about work - this week they changed the spam filter software. I am getting about eight hundred percent *more* spam than I used to. All because we have to "re-teach" the software what spam is. Fucktards.
In other news, I have well and truly gotten Gwen hooked on Supernatural. All my fault, I admit. She is a bit of a monster about it, really. But it seems to have unlocked her fan-writing-spirit again. Although the crossovers she has cooking are wild and wacky. And she's shanghaied me into writing the next bit of one of them. Crack!fic is not my best strength, but every crack!fic needs a straight man (humor wise, *not* sexuality wise) and Sam is well suited to be the straight man to Dean's wise-crackin' smart-mouthed sarcasm.
I have so damn much to do this weekend it is not funny. I somehow (in the next few weeks) need to come up with 46 more (I got 24 last weekend) 1"x2"x4's. And I need to get foam. And and and... At least Gwen found the hammered texture spray-paint for plastic I was looking for. Yaye! I get to spray paint PVC pipe this weekend. Then I have a banner to finish. Sometime, I'd like to clean my house. Right now it is a bit of a nightmare.
Oy. I think I'll end the little rant-fest right there.
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Anyway, I feel bound to point out that Gwen pretty much *READ YOUR MIND* on the spray paint issue....because I am so much your spouse.
And the only reason I said "Okay, you write the next section" was that you got snippy about how *I* was writing the whole thing. So you brought that on yourself, chickie.
It's cold and rainy. Hey - I forgot to tell you: I have a hard hat. With my *name* on it.