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Monday, Feb. 11, 2002 / 7:08 p.m. ~Falling in Love With Me....Today~ Oy vey, such a day I've had, and now as I sit here to write, there's a fucking banner ad, in Diaryland, on this page, someone wants me to lose 10 pounds, NOW!! I should click, there, for a free consultation. I'm sorry, but if I lost 10 pounds it would not be a good thing. Have you seen me? Okay, well, if you had seen me, if you did see me, could, whatever, you'd know. I'd better scroll up or I'll go batty. There. That's better. So, Norma and Gladys just watched me take a bath, Norma sitting on the edge of the tub, Gladys sitting on top of the litter box cover, and before you say, "Aw, isn't that cuuuute?!", I'll say, Hey, can I get some privacy?! Do you mind?! Yeah, yeah, it's cute, I love them, yada, yada, etc., but sometimes I want to soap up without an audience, you know? The other day I was thinking about masturbation, how I need to do it more, and I was in the mood, but I didn't want to sit down and have Norma come and jump up on my lap! I mean, one has to draw the line somewhere, yes? It's hard to have sex sometimes when animals are around, even when you're just going to do it by yourself. I just don't really want them watching, not that they haven't, not that I haven't, around them.....I don't know where I'm going with this. Maybe nowhere, fast, is best. This was a come home and take a hot bath kind of day. By the end of the day my right shoulder was killing me......I reach with my right hand to hit buttons on my phone, to answer and hang up, to answer again, and I did that all day. Eight hours, almost solid. A little getting up and moving around, FAXing, filing, copying, maybe 20 minutes worth. The rest was pushing buttons and typing, and saying the same things over and over and over and over and..... Here's the question: "How may I help you?". How is this the answer?: "I didn't receive my W-2". No, that's not right. I want to then say, "And your point?", or "So, what do you want me to do?". No, wait, answer the question. Is it too much to ask? And if I say, "____Employee Service Center, this is _____, how may I help you?", don't ask me to tell you what my name is at the end of the call. I already told you. You're forcing me to say, "As I said before, my name is _____." Yeah, I am surly. I am horrible at customer service. I suck at customer service. I do. Two stand out today, two calls. One was a man born in the '40s. Those are the worst. The ones born in the '80s are just really stupid, but they're young (oops, sorry, I mean the employees of this big company, the huge corporation, not people born in the '80s in general!), the ones born in the '40s...forget it. They can't grasp modern technology, automated phone lines, PINs, etc. It's all just so mind boggling. So, I ask the kind gentleman to verify his birthdate, it's a requirement for me to proceed, I ask birthdates all day long, I challenge myself to figure their Sun Signs as fast as I can, but he is appalled. "Why?!!!". Oh dear. Because I have to verify. This is all privileged info, don'tcha know, we're getting into your records here, and he says "I don't give out that kind of information! Who are YOU? Who wants to know?", and I'm saying, uh, well, your employer. I am part of the Service Center here to help YOU. Fuckhead. So he wants my name, which, yeah, duh, I said when I answered the phone, and I say that. "I told you my name." "Well, I didn't hear it! What is your name? What is your last name?", and yeah, oh yeah, I'm getting so pissed, right? And I get real quiet when that happens, because I'm measuring. Measuring my words, planning, the wheels are turning, I'm grasping, pulling data off the wheels, processing, plotting, and it sounds like I've hung up. Oh, he gives it to me, his birth date, and we finish up, and he is nasty all the way, sounds like a crotchety old man in serious need of Viagra and a hooker (sorry, but some people just really need sex or they're mean - I'm the perfect example!), and I say all sarcastic, "Thanks for calling, you have a GREAT DAY!", and I think he thinks I'm serious. The other was a young man, born in the '80s, and he moved after he quit work at the large corporation, he has no memory of when he started that job, and yes, you need to know these things. Cannot verify hire date, buh bye. So, he says, "FUCK!!!!!", and I say, "Yeah, well, sorry, you need to contact HR and find that out and call us back, la dee daaaaa", because I'm not fazed today. And when he hangs up, just before, he says, as angrily as I can imagine someone saying it, "GodDAMMIT!!!", and I can see veins bulging on his forehead, his face turning bright red, though I can't see him at all, the image came through the phone at that moment and I didn't care. It was a major breakthrough. It wasn't 'til late in the day that everything began to bother me, my hair on my neck (I have a really sensitive neck), sitting in my chair for so long, my shoulder sore from all the elevation, the hitting of the buttons, constantly cutting and pasting from one program to another, my mouse wrist hurting....... But hey, Lulu was out! So it was much quieter than usual. It was downright nice, in a way. Okay, look, is it too much to want an accurate foretelling of my future? Here is Sydney Omarr's horoscope for anyone born between March 21 and April 19, for today: Everything turns out "sunny-side up"! You'll be complimented on your savoir faire and ability to win friends and influence people. Others tend to fall in love with you - don't break too many hearts! Libra and another Aries figure prominently. Oh my god, so many people fell in love with me today! It was horrible having to break all those hearts....but some days are like this. Yeah, it's fun. My Sun Sign is Aries, my Moon Sagittarius. Know who else had that combo? Vincent Van Gogh. Yeppers. And look what it did to HIM! Yikes. I got my Social Security statement today. Why do they keep telling me how much money they'll give me when I'm 62? Am I getting that old? Am I that close? This statement has a list of all my earnings, from my whole adult/working life. I like the $0s in between some years....ahhhhh....see, I already was retired. I had to come out of retirement to work. I decided to live my life backwards. Gee, that may be all I have for now. I wasn't going to write about work at all, then I read Candace's diary (ByTwilight) and thought, ah, what the fuck, it's okay to rant here, this is fine for that, I do it all the time, why stop now? Oh, I was thinking about the Great Outdoors, how nice it was to be outside this weekend, and how I spend far too much time inside, and why that is, and how much I used to do outside, hiking, camping, whitewater canoeing, etc., etc., but how it was always, almost always, done with whatever boyfriend. Actually, both long term relationships involved much outdoorsiness. But, so, sure, I was thinking about it, and was going to write ALL about it, and now, I'm too fucking tired. I can't believe I've typed all THIS! Typing all day is rough, man, it hurts after a while, you know? I miss the days where I just sat and read at work. It seems like so long ago, already........ I'm going to eat another bowl of potato salad, on account of it is really good after all, and I'm going to watch a large amount of television, of all kinds really, different things, and I intend to be in bed fairly early. This is my intent. I wonder, of all those people who fell in love with me today, did I fall in love with any of them? Cost of the War in Iraq
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