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20 Mar

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A message from the universe

8 Mar

You must be kidding. Like lolz, right? This a joke?

Booty call date with Civil Servant tonight. Texted he’s on his way.

Guess who decided to show up FIVE FUCKING DAYS early? Yeah. That’s right. My fucking period.

GOD DAMN IT!! Ultimate cock block!

Ghost

3 Mar

I have so many questions for you today. Is it called ghosting when someone you’re “dating” disappears because you’re left haunted by all of their nonsense?  Is that why?  It’s the ghost of all of the conversations and trying to figure out all of the clues?

Here’s another question for you: why hasn’t #4 texted me??  The last exchange we had was on Wednesday night.  Crickets on Thursday and Friday.  That’s a pretty loud and clear message from him.  Got it.  Fine (not really).  Look, we all knew he was a douche, and this is typical behavior for a douche bag.

I guess I thought since we had established some time of rapport he’d give me the fucking courtesy of telling me if he didn’t want to pursue anything.  He was really direct before.  So what gives?  Had it been 1 date and he pulled out, totally get it.  We were a month into whatever – texts every damn day.  Then POOF! he disappeared.  Lesson learned: don’t do that to someone.  I’m glad that I had the decency to tell The Tutor that I was out.

But #4 and I  weren’t going to date.  We drew some lines in the sand – “no dating” we said.  “Friends with benefits,” we agreed.  I was very careful to listen to the words he said, I repeated them back to him.  I understood what he was looking (or not looking) for.  Thought we were on the same page. Tuesday night was fun.  He said as much that night and the next night.  Which is what he said he was looking for, fun.

So what the fuck happened?  Me not understand.

I don’t understand men.  They’re stupid.  And so are women.  We spend an inordinate amount of time over analyzing all kinds of stupid nonsense.  Frankly, there are better ways we could spend our time, like watching Netflix, hanging out with our friends and having pillow fights, braiding our hair, doing our nails, overthrowing the patriarchy, fighting to close the wage gap, really anything is better than wasting a second thinking about someone who doesn’t deserve it.

Guess what?  I’m a god damned chick and I don’t know how to turn my brain off.  I know #4 is way too much in his head.  He’s lost in his own emotional baggage which is why he’s disappeared off the face of the earth.  The second the lights go off in my room and it’s time to go to bed my brain goes into overdrive and it’s time to analyze every little thing that happened leading up to, during, and after Tuesday night’s shenanigans.  The muscles in my body are still sore (validating I’m totally out of shape).  If by some miracle I’ve shut off my brain, as soon as I move in bed and I feel the soreness, it makes me think thoughts all over again.  It’s so annoying!

There’s a tiny (or not so tiny) part of me that thinks, “you weren’t enough.”  I’m shutting that shit down pretty quickly.  Or trying to.  For the most part I’m doing pretty well with attempting to distract myself with other dates.  The hard part is that since I have so many questions it’s hard to let go of wanting the answers.

I just want to understand.

And I want him to message me so that we can bone.

My boss told me I should text him “how was your trip?” Then when he responds asking, “what trip?” I should say, “the one in your head.”  I’ve thought about texting him to get out of his own head, remind him it was just a hook up and he knows how to find me.  I’ve thought of a dozen scenarios and clever text messages I could send to hook him back in.  Not going to happen.  I will not text him.  I’ve deleted all of his text messages* and his number from my phone.  We’re unmatched from Tinder.  If he contacts me I’m going to tell him to go fuck himself.**

*Except maybe the texts that popped up on my computer because some of the racy ones were pretty good.
**Or hook up with him again.

I hate everything about you

1 Mar

I have a pretty high tolerance for stupidity and douche baggery, but there comes a time when if you hit the threshold I will dive across the table and cut you.  At least in my mind I will.

There’s a woman who I work with who I’m constantly cutting with my imaginary knife.  A very sharp imaginary knife.  Believe it or not, I have kind of an important job.  People listen to me at work.  I actually run an entire office.  I know, I know, it’s crazy to think that yours truly is capable of doing something other than fucking up at dating.  I even get to manage some pretty high profile projects.  Sometimes, there are idiots on those project teams.  This year I was “rewarded” with a frumpy ass woman who is inflexible and annoying.  She’s running the communications stream of the project and when she opens her mouth or sends me an email I feel my blood start to boil.

Monday there was a big announcement about the project to the entire division.  She fucked it up.  Twice.  Twice.  How do you fuck up an announcement twice on the same day?  I don’t know. You’ll have to ask her what her strategy was.  Other than being an imbecile it requires some pretty major stupidity to fuck up an announcement TWICE IN ONE FUCKING DAY!

The big project is kicking off later this month and it includes a huge kick off event for all of our division.  At that event there will be slides while the big mucky muck presenters are speaking.  Slides that she’s responsible for handling, because she is in COMMUNICATIONS.  We get the slides from the speakers and it’s her FUCKING JOB to put the damn deck thing together.  You’d figure someone in COMMUNICATIONS would know how to do that.  Let me paint the picture.  You are a lowly weasel at the bottom of the hierarchy – the most junior member of a big working team, a position that you’ve been given as a stretch opportunity.  You’re asking the Managing Director of a division, plus 2 of his direct reports – who are executives – to put together slides.  And you give them 48 hours.  Listen, I’m not sure where you’ve worked before, but let me go ahead and tell you that’s not how it works.  You don’t give the HEAD OF THE DIVISION 2 days for slides because you want everything in advance.  The way it works is you wait until he has someone on his staff put them together and then you scramble at the last minute to get it done.

This afternoon in the meeting she found out that she wouldn’t have the slides by tomorrow.  Which is hilarious because the Managing Director just found out today that we would need his slides.  She went off on how she didn’t know if our vendor would be able to put them together in time, and oh, by the way, she would not be able to work the weekend before the event.  In my mind, I dove across the table and I cut her.  Seriously?  Are you kidding me.

So, I got pissed.  And I do not often get pissed at work.  So I said to her, “What’s your back up plan?” with an angry tone, in front of the entire team.  She didn’t have one.  And, according to her, no one on the COMMUNICATIONS TEAM knows how to put a power point slide deck together.  Um, what?  Excuse me?  Are you kidding me?  No one on a COMMUNICATIONS TEAM knows how to put together a slide deck?  You have got to be kidding me.  So she went on about something else and I halted the meeting and said to everyone, “I have a really hard time accepting that between this entire team we’re not able to put together a slide deck.”

I hope she falls down the stairs, twists her ankle, and can never come back to work.

I hate all her frumpy clothes almost as much as I hate her face.

OKC WTF

17 Feb

I’m just going to leave this here for you. You’re welcome.

Monday? More like Manday!

12 Feb

That’s right, bitches!  Guess who just lined up date #4 for tonight?  I did!  She who hasn’t seen a naked man (other than in her dreams) in more than eleventy twelve years!  Of course it will probably be either an absolute train wreck, incredibly boring, or somewhat mediocre, but I’m going.

Frankly, it’s an excellent excuse to skip the gym.  Sorry, Treadmill, I can’t see you tonight because I have a date.  With a man.  A living, breathing, actual man.  One who is gainfully employed and owns his own home.

Wait. Fuck.  This might be a bad idea.  He said he was a “gym ninja” who “loved working out.”  I am a couch ninja who enjoys eating all the carbs and not working out.  What if my fat rolls scare him off??  What if he doesn’t like muffin tops??  And we’re meeting at a pizza place!  What if I end up eating more pizza than he does?  Cuz let’s face it – I love carbs and never work out.  I just realized he’s younger than I am by 7 years!  I’m like his fucking out of shape grandmother!

PLUS I’m getting a pimple on my chin.

Fuck.  This is an absolute disaster.

Last I checked, you weren’t my boss

8 Feb

Know what’s “amazing”? And by “amazing” I mean “worthy of me punching someone in the mouth.” Being told how to do my job by someone who barely knows how to do their own job.  I call that, “being an asshole.”

I’m good at my job.  People enjoy my work.  Big mucky muck leaders call me to help them figure out how to do their jobs.  So when someone who does internal communications starts questioning what I’m doing, it doesn’t make me so happy.  This isn’t someone who is a go getter, role model, high performer.  This is someone in COMMUNICATIONS who sends out emails to the entire organization with grammatical errors, incorrect attachments, and broken links.  So you’ll excuse me if I tell him to go and suck on a big bag of dicks.

Shut your pie hole and learn how to write a email.  How about that for some advice?

In unrelated news, I think I’m PMSing.