Tag Archives: happy

Ding, Dong…The Witch Is Dead!

20 Mar

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Can’t even begin to tell you how satisfying it was to dump my LAST email from the Accounts Corporate Manager back east, into the trash bin this morning. 

…So satisfying that I dumped it without even reading beyond the title header: “Thank you and farewell.”

…A blanket letter to all branches…looooong in the making.

She is at last leaving! 

Fucking PARTY AT MY HOUSE!!!!!

This woman has been the bane of my numbers-existence for the past three years, having graduated from just being a general pain-in-the-ass “specialist” before that.   She’s one of those people who would rather bicker and fight  over incidentals across a stream of 15 emails, than just look up information herself and get the shit DONE.

I can’t HANDLE people like that. 

It completely nuts me up.  

…She would rather SIT on 5 emails on separate accounts, across a full week, never really answering or resolving any of them, only coming up with 45 reasons as to why she hasn’t gotten around to finalizing them yet. I (being the exact opposite) HATE having shit in my inbox, and work my ass off to get that fucker cleared by 10 am each day.  Except I never really can.  Because all her outstanding follow-up account crap is always still there. Staring at me.  So I send her reminders AGAIN.  And get more excuses back. Our email conversations go something like:

She:  We don’t DO account calls here.  Or collections. 

Me: I’m sorry, but aren’t you the “accounts DEPARTMENT?”

She: We are merely the “facilitator.”

Me: Okay. I don’t understand what you need.

She: Collection letters.

Me: Okay. Go for it.  Do you need my authorization?  All the account names and contact info are lower in this stream.

She: We need the collection letters.

Me: Yes.  Okay.  Go for it.  Is there a form??? I don’t understand.

She: You need to send out collection letters.

Me: But you’re the “Account Department.”  Isn’t that what you do?

She:  No.  We “facilitate.”

Me: Again, I’m sorry, I don’t understand what that means. 

She: We watch the accounts and tell you when they are outstanding.

Me: I was the one who told you, six emails ago, that this needed collection.

She: We need collection letters…

OR

Me: “X” contractor has still not been paid for job “Y.” It was closed out correctly on “date” in batch number “Z”, and is not on the current Pay Report.

(two days later.)

Me: (resend of:) “X” contractor has still not been paid for job “Y.” It was closed out correctly on “date” in batch number “Z”, and is not on the current Pay Report.

She: What job is this for?

Me: “Y.”

She: Was it a contractor swap?

Me: No. Regular pay out. No changes.

She: When was it closed?

Me: On “date” in batch number “Z.”

She: Who needs to be paid?

Me: Again: Contractor “X.”

She: It’s not on the Pay Report.

Me: I know. That’s why I sent this to you.

She: Well, something got mixed up in batching then. Do you know the batch number you used?

Me: (OMFG!!) Yes. Batch “Z.”

She: Here it is. On “date.”

Me: I know. I just need to make sure it hits the paychecks this Friday.

(a day later.)

Me: Hi. I’m just making sure this job pay hits for tomorrow’s check run.

She: What job pay?

…Etc…

THIS has been my entire relationship with the woman since she first took over management. Thankfully her under-employees have their heads at least halfway out of their asses…enough to understand and read streams of information, and (most of the time) actually get some shit done.

…And now…the woman voted Most Likely To Be Punched In The Boob By Me is OUTTA HERE!

Gone!

Gone!

Gone!

…Off to make a living hell outta someone ELSES lives! That aren’t me!!

And I’m so happy, I could just pee.

Oop. I think I did.

I peed.

~D

Waving Goodbye, From A Speeding Train

31 Dec

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So little time to spend looking backwards today, as I have so much planning, cleaning, shopping,  errands, lines and rehearsal time to focus on instead. 

…Have been burning the midnight oil a lot this week, and have learned through the experience that leaving the daily post for end-of-the-night, poses a number of problems stemming mostly from sheer exhaustion, and residual libation levels. I thought I’d try the more sober attack by forcing the keys beneath my fingers BEFORE all the madness begins…even while my eyes dart around the room noting all the hundred little things I need to clean and prepare for tonight. Trying m’best not to get sidetracked. Also: I really could use coffee. Am beanless and trying to tell myself that black English tea will work just as well. We’ve already had this discussion ten or eleven million times and know that it won’t.

…Meanwhile, as all this shit goes rushing through my brain, and the “to do” list of the day grows even while I’m just sitting here, I wanna take a second, make a quick glance back at the 2012 calendar to appreciate the places I’ve been along its life travels. A year of time has earned it’s place in the spotlight I guess. If for nothing else, than just the fact that the Mayan’s were wrong: we’re still here…and its up to us now to write the future that they clearly got too tired (or bored with) to keep working at.

For one, SWAL was born in June: a new blogging platform, in a new community of creative thinkers and doers…and I enjoyed being a part of it so much that five months ago I pledged the Blog-a-Day challenge, even though I hate doing things in odds, or mid-way through. 

…Every time I see the badge on m’blog I still have to fight the discomfort of knowing I joined part way into a thing, so my full year of achievement doesn’t fall on everyone else’s…that I still have well over half a year to go before my achievement is complete, and will then have the most anti-climatic ticker tape parade-for-one, in all of time. 

Should I have waited to join up with the circus at the stroke of midnight tonight?  I dunno.  Maybe. My little OCD buddy would have preferred it that way. But somehow it just seems wrong to plan that far in advance to run off and join a circus.  One doesn’t really “plan” it, one just becomes suddenly (without explanation) consumed with the community, art and wonder of it, and never looks back.  Which is what I did.  So points to me for being brave and all.  But then sometimes, realizing what a shit-ton of work being in one means, is sorta a pain in the ass.  Like for instance, when it’s four in the morning and I still haven’t done my post for the day. Or when talking about finding a penny on the sidewalk is about the level of excitement I have to offer the SWAL universe at-large.  I’ll try to do better…which isn’t to insinuate I don’t try the other times.  But it is true, I prob’ly could be a little more self-aware of free topic matter floating around me day-to-day.

…So, I will.

Next: A short season for theatre after a bustling one the year before.  Much longer breaks in between gigs, as nothing seemed pressing me to invest what it takes to do a show, at the level I’ve come to enjoy and expect.  The roles mean more to me now than they used to…not just grabbing at shows to fill the space, with hope that I will come ’round to actually be emotionally “in” them.  First of all: theatre is a lot of goddamn work. And at the level I invest in it: it’s the kind of work equal to birthing a new baby every two-to-three months…a lot of times painful, and messy, and frustrating, but ultimately joyful with mad amounts of pride in the end result that all we birth-partners have achieved.  Of course, sometimes you have a total dud too.  But mostly…mostly its been a year of happy family time, with new friends, new lessons, and new realizations. 

…As I carry on with rehearsals for the first show of 2013 (opening in less than two weeks time), I can tell this’ll be a year of upping the stakes again, pushing harder and going further than the usual casting and comfort levels.  Which is a phenomenal “starting” point, not to be wasted.  So I won’t.  Which means I’ve got some serious show scouting and auditions to hit this year…prob’ly further out of town than I prefer…but it’s a thing I’m totally prepared, at this point, to do.

In Other News: This was the year when The BFF took flight again, gallivanting to the melting pot of L.A. for reasons that I intellectually totally understand, but still emotionally find completely and woefully fucked up.  I miss her all the time. Yet by some kind of magic, when she visits, it’s like she never left at all.  She’s learning things all the time, and changing, but not changing in the ways that matter most, (and what I secretly feared), knowing what a soul-sucking enterprise that that town is and will always be. 

…One need not worry about that with The BFF. 

…She was born at the age of 35, and only gained personal strength, purpose, insight, intensity and integrity since then.  She’s fine.  She will always be fine.  Even if her BFF is sitting here freaking out about the 20,000 ways of possible scenarios in which she might possibly NOT be.

…I fucking HATE it how she’s always right about shit.  (‘Cept when she’s wrong…which happens too, upon occasion…but only sometimes.)

2012 was also The Year Of The Marty. 

…This is in reference to a once in a lifetime event that occurs, which has great significance. Like seeing Halleys Comet. The last occurrence on this scale of magnificent glory happened during the original Year Of The BFF. It just means that fate said, “You don’t know it yet, but this person has mad power to consume your interest, beat the shit out of your wall-building defenses, will challenge you often, and bring you tons of joy.” All my friend soul mates and family in the past, have added a new most important member to the clan this year. For which I am ecstatically thankful and always will be. Which is as sappy at I’m gonna get about that. So shut up, and pass me the french fries…

…And in closing: This was the year of re-evaluations.

Acknowledging that palettes change several times within a lifetime, I spent several solid tracks of the year, exploring and re-visiting things that have never been my particular taste or track of enjoyment, but felt was time to revisit again, never-the-less. Where one or two new tastes were found having been acquired…there were definitely those of solid disgust which HAVE NOT altered in the least. I know now, that they just never will be my cup of tea. And with that comes a kind of guiltless freedom, as the proof that “I tried it” was there…oh, so very embarrassingly obvious for all to see, in some cases.

…So there was that.

…Several “theres” and several “thats.”

…And though I continue to struggle with one specific highly palatable, yet pro’bly still glutton-filled-fest of a bad idea, which seems to haunt me, going on years…at the moment, I’m able to be reasonable about it. Which means, “I win. For now.”

…And that’s something.

Happy last of the year, all!

…May your day of past reflection and happy expectation be an exploding cork from a good bottle of bubbly, to you all!

~D

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