Friday, July 17, 2009
What a crappy day! It started off OK, but as the day progressed, all the shit started piling up, and I have no patience for piles of shit today. First, I couldn't get out of work on time. Before I can leave, I have to have someone else count my drawer, and after I do the closing paperwork, I have to have someone else to put away the cash in the vault (everything is dual controlled, so only one key won't work). So I count my drawer 45 minutes early and wait for someone to finish what they're doing to double-check it. There are two other people there--this shouldn't be a huge issue. But naturally this is the exact moment when Needy McDumbAss comes to ask for the manager's help with his account. Mr. McDumbAss has hopelessly overdrawn his account. Why? Because his company accidentally paid him twice. You have to be a special kind of stupid to have THAT problem wind you up overdrawn. And naturally, the 5+ seperate hour or more visits he's made with the manager haven't been enough to educate him and correct the problem. And naturally, he needs to see the manager RIGHT NOW. The other teller would count me down, but it's 5pm, and there's now a line about 6 people deep at her window. Fine. I reopen my drawer and wait on a couple of them, empty the line, and then recount my drawer. Now she can't count it because she answered the phone. Yet another rush of customers ensues. I count it down again. Now she can't help because she's waiting for the manager because she has to buy more cash from the vault in order to complete the transaction she's working on. A full hour and a half after my first attempt, I'm FINALLY finished and rushing home.
Why am I rushing home? Well, because Rusty had to leave to go get H for her weekend visit. In fact, he felt it necessary to call me at work to inform me that he can't leave the kids home alone and now he's going to be late, and we all know how understanding Sea Hag can be. Why can't he leave the kids at home alone? They're 11 and 8, not 4. He knew I was on my way home. But apparently there is danger lurking everywhere. And to top it off, Shitfoot had asked that we wait til 7pm to leave for the kid-exchange, because leaving at 5:30 when I was supposed to get off would put us both in the middle of rush hour traffic. This makes sense to me, but it pissed Rusty off. Somehow it really inconvenienced him, even though he was not obligated to do anything or be anywhere based on when we left. So yes, now everyone is pissy with me and I am doing the best I can to get everything done.
Given the late hour we were leaving, I knew I had to feed the kids before we left, and getting hung up at work really threw a monkey wrench in the works. Since some previous shenanigans earlier in the week have left me with 1.57 in my bank account, picking up some fast food wasn't an option, either. But when I get home, my children inform me that their dad called and wants to take them out to eat back in his hometown. Fine. Now he wants to leave a little earlier. Fine. That means I have to leave without dinner, too. But before we can leave, Rusty appears with H in tow. "We're leaving in just a minute." I told him. "I know, that's why I rushed." He rushed. He RUSHED to get H back to our house so that she could be sure to see them leave. Because we all know how well-adjusted H is. My prediction came true, and naturally she burst into tears when the kids told her goodbye.
We stop for gas. I've been jumping through hoops with one particular credit card trying to get an expired card replaced, then had to let Rusty pay the bill because of the previously mentioned Shenanigans. It was paid on the 14th. Swipe the card. "CALL CARD ISSUER" Fuck. Dig out the only other card with available credit. Pump gas, go in to buy a soda with the last of my cash. Go back to the car, go to close the gas cap... Now seriously, I don't even know how to explain this. The metal part of the gas tank where the cap screws in?? It's actually the end of a hose, held into place by the plastic or metal surrounding it. Mine is plastic. WAS plastic. It broke. And now my the end of the hose, where I need to screw the gas cap into place, has fallen down inside the body of the car. I manage to fit my arm down into the hole and pull it back up high enough to screw the cap back on. And then imagine my family bursting into flames every single mile of the trip. Great. No credit, no cash, and this? Fuck.
And just because all of my piles of shit didn't include FUCKED UP BATSHIT CRAZY, Rusty had to inform me of Sea Hag's latest foible: H had a bug bite. So she rushed her to the doctor. And now H is all upset over having a bug bite, as if her arm might fall off, or she might die from some exotic disease. No, there's nothing particular about this bug bite. It's not infected, it's not red, black, blue, green or any other weird color that might cause alarm. It's not scaly or weeping, or causing pain or paralysis. It's just a normal, every-kid-has-twelve, little bug bite. The doctor told her to go to the store and buy some "After Bite". I wish he'd stuck a boot up her ass on her way out.
Why am I rushing home? Well, because Rusty had to leave to go get H for her weekend visit. In fact, he felt it necessary to call me at work to inform me that he can't leave the kids home alone and now he's going to be late, and we all know how understanding Sea Hag can be. Why can't he leave the kids at home alone? They're 11 and 8, not 4. He knew I was on my way home. But apparently there is danger lurking everywhere. And to top it off, Shitfoot had asked that we wait til 7pm to leave for the kid-exchange, because leaving at 5:30 when I was supposed to get off would put us both in the middle of rush hour traffic. This makes sense to me, but it pissed Rusty off. Somehow it really inconvenienced him, even though he was not obligated to do anything or be anywhere based on when we left. So yes, now everyone is pissy with me and I am doing the best I can to get everything done.
Given the late hour we were leaving, I knew I had to feed the kids before we left, and getting hung up at work really threw a monkey wrench in the works. Since some previous shenanigans earlier in the week have left me with 1.57 in my bank account, picking up some fast food wasn't an option, either. But when I get home, my children inform me that their dad called and wants to take them out to eat back in his hometown. Fine. Now he wants to leave a little earlier. Fine. That means I have to leave without dinner, too. But before we can leave, Rusty appears with H in tow. "We're leaving in just a minute." I told him. "I know, that's why I rushed." He rushed. He RUSHED to get H back to our house so that she could be sure to see them leave. Because we all know how well-adjusted H is. My prediction came true, and naturally she burst into tears when the kids told her goodbye.
We stop for gas. I've been jumping through hoops with one particular credit card trying to get an expired card replaced, then had to let Rusty pay the bill because of the previously mentioned Shenanigans. It was paid on the 14th. Swipe the card. "CALL CARD ISSUER" Fuck. Dig out the only other card with available credit. Pump gas, go in to buy a soda with the last of my cash. Go back to the car, go to close the gas cap... Now seriously, I don't even know how to explain this. The metal part of the gas tank where the cap screws in?? It's actually the end of a hose, held into place by the plastic or metal surrounding it. Mine is plastic. WAS plastic. It broke. And now my the end of the hose, where I need to screw the gas cap into place, has fallen down inside the body of the car. I manage to fit my arm down into the hole and pull it back up high enough to screw the cap back on. And then imagine my family bursting into flames every single mile of the trip. Great. No credit, no cash, and this? Fuck.
And just because all of my piles of shit didn't include FUCKED UP BATSHIT CRAZY, Rusty had to inform me of Sea Hag's latest foible: H had a bug bite. So she rushed her to the doctor. And now H is all upset over having a bug bite, as if her arm might fall off, or she might die from some exotic disease. No, there's nothing particular about this bug bite. It's not infected, it's not red, black, blue, green or any other weird color that might cause alarm. It's not scaly or weeping, or causing pain or paralysis. It's just a normal, every-kid-has-twelve, little bug bite. The doctor told her to go to the store and buy some "After Bite". I wish he'd stuck a boot up her ass on her way out.
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