Levitating!!! Floating!!! Hovering on Cloud 9!!!

I GOT A NEW JOB!

Oh Geez

Maybe I should stop blogging and close down this blog. I'm so lame about posting to it! It's hard. So hard. Keeping up with Catster AND Facebook AND e-mail AND Twitter.

Oh yeah, and work and stuff, too.

Seven months down in the funny farm. I'm getting oh so depressed about not finding anything yet.

Riding Mower, Where Art Thou?

Oh man. Our riding mower kicked the bucket a few weeks ago. Of course it happened when I was on it. One minute I'm sailing along, grass flying. Next minute, it won't go forward. It won't go backward.

It's been sitting at the repair shop ever since. We've actually had rain this summer. Lots of rain. So between typhoons, people have been running out to mow their yards. Fast. So now a LOT of lawn mowers need repair. Poor things haven't gotten much use the past two summers thanks to our drought conditions. They forgot what to do!

So today I push mowed the calf-high front yard and most of the back yard. Clumps of grass everywhere. But at least the grass clumps are green for a change!

And at least I got exercise for a change.

This was without a doubt the most bizarre work week ever. But I did get everything done and caught up. I'm trying not to stress over the crazy environment I'm in on my weekend. After all, I only have puking kittens and Facebook to worry about on weekends.

In the midst of the insanity, I put in applications for four jobs. Our Business Manager and bookkeeper are looking to transfer, too, and the bookkeeper is trying to help me out with a job at her old place. We're hoping we can all burn bridges at the same time, leaving Cujo with Jabba. I can't think of two people who deserve each other more.

DEEP THOUGHT OF THE DAY: I actually ate a salad for supper after mowing the yard all day. Normally I can't stand the thought of salad after I mow, but apparently I just couldn't get enough grass today.

Six months down!

Six months today! I have worked at the fruit farm for six months! Can't believe I made it this long without telling Cujo to go eat a dark brown substance and kick the bucket.

Now I can apply to transfer without telling anyone.

Only problem is...nowhere to apply.

:sobbing:

The Miracle Mario Andretti Kitten!

Here's a photo of Chester, the kitten who rode in my engine over 30 miles! He's gorgeous--has swirls instead of stripes and is about the same color as Omega.

Best Bumper Sticker Ever!

You're driving a car, not a phone booth!

A Glimmer of Hope

I love Saturdays. There's eating lunch outside somewhere. There's PetSmart. There's McAlister's tea. Sunshine and the freedom to do anything I want. Even though I might also have to do laundry.

And there's the fact I'm not at work.

I can't begin to describe how bizarrely my job marches on. There have been days I've been completely insane, and then there have been days I've been beyond certifiably insane. Those are the days when I've almost missed Sybil.

I can only sum it up this way. Jabba does nothing. Absolutely nothing. The bookkeepers do nothing. Absolutely nothing. I'm not real sure Cujo does anything. And yet they all complain non-stop to me that the other one does nothing, and they're the only ones who do any work.

Meanwhile, Cujo continues to yell in her obnoxious, condescending way, Jabba lies she'll do something, then turns around to pull up odd Web sites, like the ones listing all the women arrested for prostitution around here the past year. She continues to whine and whine and then whine some more while she shows me all the bruises and scratches and boo-boos she has, the ones I'd need a magnifying glass to actually possibly see. I can't finish a sentence without her cutting me off. Or without Cujo bursting in to scream about something the bookkeepers didn't do, or the water the cleaning lady poured on the floor in the bathroom, or the price of tea in China.

I have more grey hairs and wrinkles around my eyes than ever. My haircut makes me look like a boy. I'm pretty sure this has nothing to do with age or the style of the cut. It's all because of my job.

But this week, an accounting position in the Dean's Office opened up. And Jabba actually mentioned it to me, and I actually admitted I'd love to apply and she said go for it, she understands wanting to stab Cujo in the eyeballs, and before I knew it, I was applying. Turns out to transfer before six months in a position, you just have to let your supervisor know you're applying. I figured I'd have to bleed on a 321 page form, but no. Just let your supervisor know.

So maybe there's a glimmer of hope for escape. In a few weeks (22 days to be exact, but who's counting), I can apply for any position I want without telling Jabba. But I've been afraid nothing would open up, what with our budget woes and the economy. And I've been worried my job hopping and inability to tolerate well...anyone I see between the hours of 8-1 and 2-5 these days would go against me if something did. So hopefully I'll at least have a chance at snagging this job.

Hopefully.

DEEP THOUGHT OF THE DAY: I saw The Ugly Truth today. It was cute. Crass. But cute. I watched the HORRID Rachel Getting Married the other night and the sad, shocking, haunting The Boy in the Striped Pajamas this week. So I was ready for some mindless sex comedy.