Saturday, October 10, 2009

There was too much to do

She asked what was new, so I went over the list in my head.

Birthday on Sunday
Shit hitting that fan on Sunday and Monday (not birthday related)
Card game on Saturday
Food shopping for card game
Food cooking for card game
Need to get tire fixed
Need to get a hair cut

I said it was the same old same old but then mentioned the card game and that I hadn't decided on what to bring yet. She mentioned some baked nachos thing but with cream cheese instead of sour cream. I said that the guys would expect more of me than nachos. She said, "What are you a freaking chef?!"

Later that day the card game got canceled.

My weekend freed up.

But I never picture myself scratching my balls

I remember I was scratching my head wondering about something. I remember I told myself to “Remember to check that out.”

Only I wasn’t really scratching my head, it just seemed that way while it replayed in my mind. Sometimes, I remember myself smoking only I don’t smoke. I guess it’s the influence that movies and television has had on me; when people think on TV, they scratch their head; when people are contemplating things in the movies, they smoke.

Anyway, the thing I wanted to check out was: when I’m due a raise. I know I took over my new responsibilities on April Fool’s Day 2008 but I didn’t get the title or the pay until some time later. I had to check to see what that later day was, I remember that it was late enough to get me a little angry about it, but I was able to keep my patience.

That later day was the end of October, and I’m told that the way the pay system works, my raise should take place on the first Saturday of the anniversary month; which will be in this Friday’s paycheck.

It’s three percent.

I was thinking that neither I, the world, nor anybody could inflict enough pain onto those teenagers to make them rightfully pay for the crime of murder that they had randomly committed.

I asked myself if I would be as angry if the victim was a crack whore as opposed to a 42 year old mother minding her own business, merely sleeping in her own bed.

I didn’t answer the question because all lives are supposed to be equal.

I then asked myself if the lives of the perpetrators where as valuable as the life of the victim.

I didn’t answer that question either but I did conclude that not all lives are equal.

Thursday, October 01, 2009

If you don't think I care, then please stop bothering me

Folks come by my cube to tell me their stories...


I was typing some memo while half listening to him complain about doing someone else's job. I stood up to tell him from over the cube to stop complaining and send the assignment to the appropriate person but before I opened my mouth I just sat back down.

I was tired of the constant.

He knows the answers but he likes to complain. Fix one problem and he'll create another.

I'm done playing that game.

He came over today and started his conversation with: "I know you don't care but," and then he told me the status of his grievance against the company and how two different people that are supposed to be looking out for him said that he had no case after he had waited four months for it to come up.

I wanted to say, "Yeah, you're right. I don't care. Go fuck yourself."

I had told him that I didn't think he had a case from the get go.

I want his evil selfish head to stop telling him lies. I want him well. I do care.