Yes, it's been some time since I posted and again, I have to blame work for making it difficult to live my life! Just kidding. Not really actually. But, I don't want to dive into that. I wanted to post about something that Desiree fumed about that happened last night when she was waitressing at one of the many restaurants / bars / lounges she's employed at. Our short story begins with a phone call at half-past til midnight:

"Hello?"
"Johnny! Are you sleeping?"
"Dez? Sleeping... yeah."
"Oh my g*d, you won't believe what happened tonight!"
"Huh?"
"So I'm working at [insert fine drinking establishment here] and I'm serving this group who is loud as hell and keeps moving around the place like freakin' nomads!"
"Nomads, that's funny" I say entirely to myself because Desiree continues without skipping a beat.
"Well, last call comes and goes and they split the check across like 5 cards, right?"
"Yea... uh huh..." is what I say intermittently as I drift in and out of sleep.
"And, they write it out on the back of the receipt the amount that's being charged on each card and there's like 2 cards missing. So, I go back and one of them hands me a card (sheepishly, I might add) and the other missing card's owner starts freakin' out looking for his card. Are you following me?"

Since it was silent, I snap back to reality and say into the phone, "What happened next?" which proves to be the right question to ask since she ends her story with a huff.

"So, turns out, the missing card was inadvertently picked up by his friend thinking it was his card and he stuffs it back into his wallet! Can you believe that! Ten minutes longer to finish closing this tab because a guy thought it was his card (obviously, he was tipsy). I'm so irate right now because I have class in the morning and I'm so tired ..."
"Dez, stop being a girl and go to sleep!"

Okay, I don't like going to the "girl" card but g*ddamn, I was sleeping before she called and dreaming about, I dunno, I probably should write Liz. So I will. I was dreaming about Liz. Desiree apologized and hung up. She'd been catty ever since her little sister left for Chile for study abroad. It's been about 6 weeks now. Her sister is like a genius studying to become a doctor. Dez loves her to death, but I guess she could do without her mom calling every day. Typical Catholic mom always worrying and making sure her offspring are safe and eating enough.

Okay, that's a generalization. I apologize. Liz has started to point a lot of my faults out to me which is good and so I'm trying to catch myself, but it's hard because that's how I am. (I was going to say 'because that's how I roll,' but I guess Liz is getting to my core).

I know what you're thinking, blogger! You speculate that since we've gotten to this stage of our relationship with her telling me my faults, etc., she possibly could be the "One" or that jazz. Not at all the truth, I mean, yeah she MIGHT be the "One" maybe a couple years down the road, but that's all speculation! Liz is just the type of person who points out someone's faults. Of course, not in a bad way; just in a way that tries to better that person. So, yes, being with Liz makes me a better person. I said it; which is a good trait to have for a future wife, but again, speculation.

There are probably a whole bunch of people brought up with the knowledge or I like to call it "misconception" that marriage is a milestone that follows the college milestone. Yes, in reality, marriage does come after college (most of the time), but the pressure of looking at your time line like this kind of well.. sucks. Why should it be a pressure situation? Why should it come after college? Yes, I had classmates who married when they were in college and a couple of friends who gave birth during college, but you mean to tell me that the norm is the time line that I mentioned above? I like to think we're each of our own 'Master of our universe' and "marry-ahj" (in the words of Captian Jack Sparrow) will come when it comes.

Yeah, the 2 paragraphs I just wrote are a stretch, but please allow me some latitude since it's been a while since I posted and I've been working my *ss off. Work sucks... my online school is tough... Liz is good; been hanging out a lot... Matt's crazy bummed about the Sharks getting knocked out of the playoffs... Dez is good though she misses her sister... who else is there that I've introduced into our world? My lunch-time gang is good, I suppose. We haven't had lunch for awhile. JV and Charlie are chillaxin', as they call it.

Yea.
Word.
Fo sho.

You know what, I never finished the story of when I had my breakdown at work some time ago (reference to Home Sweet Home, Part 1 & Part 3). It's a chilling and dramatic tale that ended up with me almost hurling myself off the 1st floor landing. Okay, that last part was for dramatic sake. But here's how it went down:

Refreshing everyone's memories, it had been a crappy week before I went home for the weekend with Desiree (reference Home Sweet Home, Part 1-3). An editor quit to go back to school and I got stuck with her work load. I hadn't slept much that week and to top it all off, I had so many deadlines that Friday. And, to make matters so much more worse, our monthly staff meeting fell on that Friday. So coming into that day, I was not a happy camper!

A big part of this story rests on the shoulders of this tool named Kristoff. Course I didn't make up his name! Okay, yeah, it's a fake name so if people at work read my blog, then it wouldn't be a 'wonderful day in the neighborhood.' But anyways, Kristoff was this big shot *ss kisser who made my life a living hell that week. You see, he worked in another department of the company which I like to call "Skyline" because that's the fella that called the shots on the seventh floor. And, Kristoff was basically his second lieutenant joined to Skyline's teet. Sorry for the graphic description, but he did not rub me the right way.

So, coming into work, the first thing I see on the Job Status board is the time and conference room for our monthly staff meeting, but what p*ssed me off was that they moved the start time from our usual 10am slot to 4pm. It's Friday and you move a meeting to 4 that afternoon. That's crazy! A bunch of us editors were talking about skipping it, but it's the one meeting that's mandatory, so ourhands were tied.

Okay, let's fast forward to my blow-up/breakdown. I'm already behind with some projects and so I decide to skip my lunch arrangement with Matt and just pick something up at the cafeteria. It happened to be Mexican day so that meant burritos. So there I am, sitting at my usual spot near the frozen yogurt machine (that had been broken almost 3 months) when Kristoff saunters into the lunch room with his chin lifted to the heavens and makes a "b" line to where I am eating my awesome lunch. He has the balls to wait for me to acknowledge him; doesn't even say a word.

"Waddup, Kris, how's it going?" I ask in-between bites of my delicious carne asada burrito.
"Good there, John. Bob, I mean, Mr. Skyline, has given me the privilege of ensuring all the projects are completed by the assigned deadline."
"That's cool, bro. I don't know if you noticed but I'm taking my 'mandatory half hour lunch' so you're cutting into my time if you're talking about work."
"John, John John. You don't understand, do you? I informed Bob, I mean, Mr. Skyline, that some editors won't be able to complete some projects by the deadline and so I requested until the end of the day to have the monthly staff meeting."

As I was chewing, the cogs in my head started to turn and I realized something. This *sshole moved the meeting to 4pm! And, he just blatantly told me to my face that it was because of me! What a prick! I didn't respond for at least a couple of minutes. I just kept munching on my burrito which wasn't as satisfying as it was when I first started eating it. Kristoff's stupid grin pushed me over the edge.

"You know what, Kris-toff, let me tell you something about what I do here. I, as an editor, basically cleans up the mess that is raw footage and makes it into something that our company can use for marketing purposes such as ad campaigns, television spots, etc. And, I hope you do realize that it doesn't just take an hour. Oh no, it takes several hours because of rendering."

By this time, my raised voice had caught people's attention around the lunch room and some even started to edge their way to my loud voice. Eying my supervisor, I upped the ante a bit just for posterity.

"And, the reason why I won't be able to make the deadline for most of my projects is because Krystal decided to go back to school. I'm not blaming her, but try this on for size: I was working on 3 projects with deadlines at the end of the month. Krystal left me her 2 projects that's 75% completed. That's 5 now. Her deadline for the 2 projects is due today while I have about 1 week and a half to finish up my 3 projects. Now, Kris, explain to me how I'm suppose to finish up 2 projects in 3 hours when you're extending my 'mandatory half an hour lunch' every time you open your mouth?"

His smug smile disappeared. Some people laughed at this comment, but I wasn't finished.

"Another thing, Kris, this entire week you've been coming in and out of my department checking up on myself and the other editors. Is it just me or should I be paranoid? Is the work I'm doing not up to par to Mr. Skyline's wishes? Because you've been taking a huge interest in my projects this week. And what about the weeks prior to this? Should I be expecting a pink slip anytime now in my mailbox? Because every time you come down the 6 floors, you make it a habit to interact with us editors for at least 10 minutes. That's 10 minutes we could be using to work on the projects we were assigned. That's almost an hour over the span of an 8-hour work day that you come down the shiny elevator and ask us questions. I've lost 4 hours already trying to explain to you why it's taking so long to render a certain piece. That's 4 hours lost listening to you relay what Mr. Skyline said on a conference call to the customer. 4 hours is a lot of time I could be using to work on the 2 projects that are due today. And now, I've lost 4 hours and some change pleading my case to you who probably doesn't even care about what I do, as long as you look good to Mr. Skyline.

No, I will not calm down, Garrett (my supervisor's name). I'm trying to explain to Kris here why my projects won't be completed. And, I'll even finish my lunch early so I can get back to work. But, in reality I've spent 30 minutes for lunch: 15 minutes eating, 5 minutes listening to what Kris had to say, and 10 minutes lecturing. So, I'm going to clock back in and get back to work. Good day, sir."

My supervisor just shook his head at me as I walked out of the lunch room. The only sound that was heard was me throwing my unfinished burrito into the trash can at the door of the lunch room. I smiled to myself knowing that I had stepped up and 'tore Kris a new one.' Though it probably wasn't the greatest idea to do this, but I knew I was on the safe side since they had just lost an editor and firing me would leave them up sh*t creek.

That following Monday, Garrett spoke to me about my outburst and that it was going to be noted on my 'rap sheet.' But the good news was that they were going to start interviewing other candidates to fill the void. That was good new for me. Things weren't ever the same between Kristoff and myself. We were civil, I suppose, but whatever. I never liked the guy anyway. A co-worker of mine said he had blogged about the entire thing, of course, making me look like the bad guy or some delirious, under-paid, over-worked editing junkie. I had the last laugh when I egged his car! Ha ha!

Okay, for real, I can't take responsibility for the egging. Though I commend whoever's doing it. If you're reading, keep it up!

That's it for now. Until next time!

Cheers!

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