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the spousebeast is a lying liar

On the way home from the party Friday evening (so much fun!  And what are the odds that I'd be at the party of a friend of a friend I met on the internet...and discover that one of HER friends is the cousin of two of my friends from college?  The world is a LOT smaller than we think), I overheard someone on the bus mention the exhibition football game at UNC today.  I winced and muttered something about work sucking Saturday, and he was all "Oh, no one cares about the Blue and White Game...don't worry...no big deal."

Bullshit.  Biiiiig, stinking piles of it.  I called him on it when I limped home, and he said "Well, you didn't want me to tell you you were facing a day of infinite suckitude, did you?"

Yes.  Yes, I did.  Grrr...

In a twisted way, it was worth it to watch J, who prides herself on getting out of there early through a combination of rushing through her sidework while screwing over everyone else (you can't do your sidework if you're the only one taking orders, running food, bagging to go orders, and cleaning the dining room) and batting her eyelashes at the BOH guys to do the heavy lifting for her, get stuck 45 minutes after her shift.  Welcome to my world, tiny annoying person.  And the pissier she got, the more I loooooooved my job, the customers, the ridiculously detailed and personalized orders (if I never hear "Can I just make my own sandwich?" again, I will be a happy girl.  You want to make your own sandwich?  Stay home, where I assume you have a kitchen).

I am such a passive aggressive bitch.  :)  I just cannot deal with someone who comes in with a chip on her shoulder when Big Boss is working, but is all sweetness and smiles and flirty eyelashes when our (largely ineffectual) male managers are working.  So I fight it by being chipper all.  The.  Time.

And if that means the majority of my coworkers think I'm a bit of a dim bulb, Pollyanna type, so be it.

Anyway, I survived the day.  I even got up early to go to the big yearly rummage sale at Chapel of the Cross with Kent and Mark.  We try to go every year, but missed the last two, so we were *really* overdue.

So overdue, that the Rummage Gods smiled on us all.  *bounce*  Mark got some new art for his place and a couple of Peter Allen-level fabulous shirts (I LOVE it when he lets me dress him!).  Kent scored a beautiful Calphalon pizza cutter, a silver salt and pepper mill set, and a Lodge enameled Dutch oven ($30!  Brand new!  Gorgeous condition...or it WAS, until the bag he was carrying it in split and it bounced on the sidewalk.  Who puts something that heavy in a paper bag!?!?!?). And I got a Hamilton Beach stand mixer (basically a hand mixer on steroids, but since I was getting ready to shell out $13 for a no name handmixer and this was $15...), a metal fish shaped Jello mold (something I have been fixated on having for years.  Don't ask me why.  Robin says I'd better be using it to make giant, fish shaped Jello shots.  I may have a plan for my birthday...), and a fabulous, floppy brimmed brown felt hat.  Of course, all of us ended up with scads of books and cds.

It was quite a satisfying haul.  Needless to say, the disbursement from my accident couldn't have come at a better time.  In addition to the stuff above, we ticked off a few things for the kitchen from the amazon.com wishlist at about a tenth of the cost.  Whee!

Of course, I am now obsessed with getting more metal Jello molds.  i was afraid the fish was going to be a gateway drug....

In health news, Santa Pete is out of the hospital and cranky as hell.  Looks like all of the issues are related to the fact that he has been pretty much ignoring his pre-diabetic condition and, you guessed it, he's now full blown.  You can't drink at least one 32oz Coke a day and NOT expect it to fuck you up when you have blood sugar issues.  *shakes head*  He needs to make some drastic changes, and he's not happy.  I mean, no one would be, but he's singularly unaccustomed to not getting what he wants, when he wants it.  He's the only adopted child of two older, quite wealthy parents...and MAN, it shows at times.

I need to talk to him about getting at least medical POA, because he only listens with half an ear, and I really can't get a straight answer out of him what needs done, what medical fires need to be put out first.


At least he's home.  And okay-ish.

And I'm off for two days!  Whee!  A little later, we're meeting up with Robin for brunch.  The benefit of having a tax accountant for a SiL is that you get your taxes done for the low, low price of brunch at Lucha Tigre.  And we get to celebrate the end of tax season with bottomless mimosas.  Everybody wins!

Happy Sunday, y'all!


Apr. 18th, 2016 03:34 am (UTC)
Mimosas! Yesssss! Glad you had some shopping wins! Yay! AW


The fucking YARN FAIRY!

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