East Coasting It

This may sound like a familiar sentence: in a couple of weeks I will be taking a red eye flight to the east coast for a family wedding. It may also sound like I do not learn my lessons. It is all true. One thing you need to understand is that for someone is so sarcastic, bitter, and exhausted, I am also surprisingly optimistic in nature. So, once again, thinking the red eye flight will be fine and not lead to a total and utter mental breakdown, I book it.

So, sleep is for the weak. And this way I get to spend some of the first day of my vacation with my family, instead of losing it to the airplane flight and time change. And if I'm grumpy when they pick me up and demand they get me coffee before talking to me, that's fine, I am there by birthright and there is not a damn thing they can do about it. Reading that last sentence and realizing how true it is going to turn out to be, I'm surprised they keep inviting me to these events. Perhaps they think this trip, I won't be grumpy and moody and cry for no reason. Maybe the misplaced optimism is genetic.

Your Pet is My Favorite, the Rest I'm Forced to Watch

Today, I am in charge of three dogs, five cats and a fish. That is a lot of f-ing paws and a gill or two. Needless to say, they are trying to break me. I go to three homes (well, one is mine, so maybe I go to two) to see them all. Everyone gets petted and gets treats and gets litter box cleaned or let outside in the yard. No one feels like that is remotely enough. Everyone wants a piece of me.

Anxious to take advantage of this good weather, that has led to this drought, I packed up the small dogs and went to the small dog park. The intention is to get them to play well with others, the result is they play with each other.

Two tiny, bad-ass dogs check out the dog park

And promply choose to play only with each other

Updates

This week, the clouds cleared and the sun touched my pale, pale skin once again. My first year at the HR Farm is coming to a close and I feel like I had to survive a trail by fire the last two months to get to this anniversary. But, let's not dwell on the stressful bits. Let's talk about the good things. I found myself once again reaching out to customers, just to say hi and check in with them. I rearranged the little piles of papers on my desks to better, more organized little piles. A pencil got sharpened. Three days in a row, I woke up on time and looked at my clothes before hurriedly putting them on.

In other news, Clinton and Obama have worked through things. Along those lines, when I become a presidential candidate, I insist on being called by my last name just like the boys. You do not get to act overly familiar with me because of my gender, you do not get to spend time writing about my pant suits, and you can get me a cup of coffee while you are up and rub my feet when you are done with that.

"It's Janet. Ms. Jackson if you're nasty" You know you're nasty, so stop calling me Rachel.

Your Kindest Attention Most Honored Sir or Madam

It's a very exciting day at my house. Today Lolita got his first 419 scam letter. The phone has been listed under his name (well, one of his nicknames) for many. many years now. Sadly it has taken this long for him to be recognized in all the flowery, over the top, grammar grandeur he deserves. One of his unknown relatives has passed away and he has the chance to make quite a bit of money by getting a fax machine, opening a bank account and contacting this high powered estate manager in London that sends 'official' letters on cheap copy paper with a yahoo email address.

Sadly, Lolita can be suckered. Not for money. But if this man was willing to fly to California, pet Lolita a bit and maybe let him run around in the yard for awhile, I bet my bank accounts, retirement plan savings and mutual funds would be liquidated in no time.

Actually, I'm going to go shred that letter now. That cat has turned on the computer before, with much less to gain.

Sunday Afternoon Photo Essay

Fresh sheets and the same, stale pet fight

Sugarlicious

I don't want to bore you to tears, but life at the HR Farm is very busy. Crazy sometimes. And not in ways that get you involved in top secret projects that may change the very face of HR and perhaps life itself. No, not that. Mainly, repeating the same 30 minute dumb speech to otherwise smart customers. And there are meetings. You might suddenly find yourself in the women's lounge at Bloomingdale, eating a creme puff from Beard Papa, trying to prepare for a training session. The beauty of the creme puff does not last, and neither does the sugar high. Soon you are almost asleep in front of a group of people trying to present something or other to them for some reason or other.

That session went badly. I tried to recover by giving a review of the new Dolly Parton album and discussing my dog's upcoming quinceanera. When all else fails, bring up the chihuahua. And this is for a customer you actually like. There are other customers, that you want to like, but they make it veryveryveryveryhard for you to do so. Imagine for a minute how those meetings are going. There aren't enough creme puffs in the world to make up for that pain.

Yes, this too will pass. But it ain't passed yet.

Middle Management

Snitch!

Fondue has decided that entry level jobs are for lesser dogs and she is strictly management material. The other day, while I was in Modesto, she was at my Aunt's house supervising their yard work. My aunt and her girlfriend were working hard and Fondue kept tabs on them to made sure they didn't f it up. She would lounge in the sun, then go over and check out what they were doing, then go back to lounging. So dedicated!

Last night, late last night, maybe it was early this morning, she tested her management skills out on the cats. So, around 1:00 am Fondue starts barking. I was happy with the sleeping, so I'm a tad upset. She then jumps out of bed and acts like if she doesn't get outside that second the world will end. I am upset, but figure it is a dog related emergency and let her out. And there on the other side of the door is Galileo. Then I realized I had opened the window without the screen in error. So, I guess the cats saw their freedom chance and Fondue got upset and here we are at 1:00 am. I let Galileo in and then notice I'm still a cat short. Luckily, Fondue is on it. She is in the yard, trying to corral Lolita back inside (kitties are indoor kitties, everyone knows that; everyone except Lolita). Fondue runs up to me, leads me straight to Lolita and then blocks him on one side, so I can scoop him from the other.

Fondue would like you to know that if you are on break, you should be clocked out and if you aren't on a break you shouldn't just be standing around like that. Also, she would like you to know she isn't paying you to read this blog all day, she is paying you to work. Also, she can only pay you in kisses. Also, you are lucky to even get them as lazy as you are, so stop complaining.

Lolita Says: Chihuahuas suck