Category Archives: WTF Files

Are You Fucking Kidding Me? The Office Edition

Happy Monday folks!

A co-worker shared with my cubemate that she got engaged over the weekend.


Yep, that’s right. I said four months to the day of when they started dating.

D A T I N G !

Co-worker is older and has never been married. She and her new fiance recently decided to move in together, even though she just bought a new townhouse last Spring. She has made comments that “he better put a ring on it” when she talks about her upcoming move into his house.

Are you ready for this? He was engaged to another woman not too long ago, and I believe it may have been over last Summer (2013). I don’t know the details about their split, but I do know that relationship was a long-distance (different states) one.

Granted, my cynical bitch side has eyerolled all day about this news. It’s exciting when people choose to commit to building a life together with someone. Having been married, divorced, and a few unsuccessful relationships under my belt, I don’t have any desire to remarry nor do I have a timeline of how a relationship should progress. But isn’t four months really quite fast?

[I realize when you know you want to spend the rest of your life with someone, you know it. I just don’t know that things should be so rushed. (says the woman whose on and off relationship hasn’t changed much AT ALL over the past six years, ahem)]

Are You Fucking Kidding Me? The Family Christmas Edition

Are You Fucking Kidding Me?

Thanks to the summer birthday card fiasco involving a missing birthday card mailed to my nephew and the shit storm that resulted afterwards, I wasn’t planning on driving to my mom’s on Christmas Eve. I had already asked the kids about it, and they said they were ok with not making the visit.

Over the weekend, I made sure to send a package to my mom’s address with Christmas cards for her, my step dad, and my two nephews. To avoid any “we didn’t get anything” fiasco like the birthday card, I made sure to send it Priority Mail with tracking.

Package was delivered today and I get an email from my mother asking if I’m not coming up for Christmas Eve. Immediately followed by a text from the sister asking the same question. And here’s where the “Are you fucking kidding me?” comes into play.

Mother and sister said some shitty things back in the summer, and now they’re expecting me to show up for Christmas Eve? I really don’t think so.

Day 24: WTH Universe!

Today started out uneventful.

I spent the morning starting my holiday cookies. I rolled up some cookie balls, made a new cookie recipe, and manually ground 4 lbs of walnuts for baking next weekend. I spent the majority of the morning and afternoon in a warm kitchen, so I didn’t really notice that the rest of the house was getting cooler. Around 4PM when I finally sat down, I wondered why it was so cold in my living room so I checked my thermostat, planning to bump it up a degree or two since it was so cold outside. That’s when I noticed that I already had it set for 70*, and the thermostat was reading that the house was 64*. SAY WHAT?

I bumped it up to 72* and hear the furnace kick on. However, while the fan was running, it was not blowing air through the duct work. So I turned the thermostat off and turned it back on again. Yep, same thing!

So I had to place a call to my landlord to let them know what was going on. I can go ahead and call the Heating Company that installed the furnace (it’s fairly new, too!). So I’m hoping I can work from home tomorrow while I wait for someone to come look at it.

On the positive side, I did finish one type of cookie, halfway finished another type that needs to be dipped in chocolate, and manually ground 4 lbs of walnuts in preparation for more baking this upcoming weekend.

I’m now looking forward to an even shorter work week if I can work from home tomorrow. I’ll miss a co-worker’s baby shower after work, but now I’ll be able to get up to Cal U to pick up Vampire Boy a little earlier.  However, I’m sure hoping the weather forecasters are wrong with Tuesday’s forecast of 4-7 inches of snow!

Thank You, Relationship Genius!

If you tell me in one breath that ‘I would rather be with you than doing anything else’ and then make secret plans with others not including me and other friends, I will internally mock you.

If you tell me in one breath that ‘There is nothing that I won’t tell you or talk with you about’ and I then I find out otherwise, I will internally mock you.

If you tell me in one breath that ‘I made a promise to myself to always be honest with you’ and I then I discover otherwise, I will internally mock you.

But the icing on the cake is to see this posted on a Facebook wall.


It is taking all of my self-control to not comment, because you, my Friend, my Buddy, my Pal, fail to mention your role in (or lack of) upholding the Trust and Communication points.

I wanted to post this in retaliation for only the offending party to see but successfully took the high road (and got it off my chest by writing here instead! You know, because no one knows me here. ::wink::).


Weird Dream

So Friday morning, just before my alarm is set to go off at 5:45 AM, I’m having a dream (a partial nightmare, actually!).

In this dream, I am out somewhere (I think I was traveling) with my HUSBAND, and my NEWBORN BABY, and I was walking my cat on a leash.




The husband in the dream was a sports celebrity; not someone I have ever met in person, nor someone I would even care to meet.

I think I am well past the ‘having a baby’ phase of my life. My kids are 18 and 12 which makes me old enough to not really have to worry about having any more kids, plus I believe in birth control to avoid any babies.

The cat is only true thing currently in my day to day life. I have often missed having a dog to walk on these Spring teaser days. I often joke that Batman acts like a dog sometimes. He greets me at the door. He likes to share my dinner. He sleeps tucked against my legs. But I highly doubt that he would allow me to walk him on a leash.

Doing my own dream interpretation, I had applied for a part-time job Thursday evening. I had read @UncleCrappy’s post about someone who had a baby earlier in the week. And I’m guessing Batman was probably snuggling me as he typically does close to alarm time.

Hopefully, the events of the prior day is what prompted that type of dream so close to alarm time!

The 180* Day

It was not a happy first day of Spring!

If you happen to follow me on Twitter, you may have seen some tweets that I started having car issues last week (well, really, starting back in January). Some back story, I start having stalling issues mid-January. I take my car to my garage for them to look it over and inspect it. This visit finds that I need my PVC valve/hose (or something like this) has disintegrated. The garage owner calls to give me this good news and also shares that my car will pass inspection with new front brake pads. $400 later, I can pick up my car the next day.

I get to drive my car for barely 24 hours before the next Car Incident of 2013. Wednesday evenings I have to pick up my daughter and her friend from a church program. On our way home, I stop at a yellow light and am rear-ended, pretty hard. We’re all a little shaken up but no major injuries to us. My car, however, doesn’t look so great. After talking with my insurance company, I call Mr. Rear-Ender’s insurance company to report the accident. [I don’t want this accident on MY clean driving record, nor do I want to shell out a $500 deductible.]  It takes a week for me to finally get an appointment for his company’s adjuster to evaluate my car. By this time, we’re at the end of January, but my car is finally approved for repair at the collision center and I am given a rental to drive.

Mid-February, I hear from the collision center that my car probably won’t be done until near the end of February. However, I have plans to leave town for my The Rock Boat vacation. The insurance adjuster assures me that the rental will be covered while I’m gone and that I can check in with the collision center upon my return.

Moving forward to March. I’m finally back in my own car. I’m still a little anxious when I see someone’s hood so close in my rear view mirror. Then the weird thing starts happening. The car seems to run fine when I’m driving, but once I pull into a parking spot and/or my garage, the car stalls. So back to the garage we go!

This is where the fun starts. I make arrangements to take my car back to the garage on Wednesday (this week). This involves dropping the car at the garage and then walking a mile (uphill, both ways, in bare feet, in 2 feet of snow, get off my lawn) to get to the trolley stop (keep in mind the morning temps are <32*). As I am walking to the tracks, a trolley is there. The lovely driver actually waits, waves me to cross, AND opens the door so I can get on her train. Now that I have purchased a replacement battery for my phone, I was able to listen to the awesome new Justin Timberlake CD, play five rounds of Candy Crush, and scroll my twitter and facebook timelines and still have battery life!

Wednesday is also Daffodil Day, and one of our department physicians always buys us a bouquet of daffodils. Flowers = Sweet! Said doctor mentions that his wife forgot to pack his lunch for the day. I offer that I am considering a walk to Chipotle to pick up my lunch, would he like something? He thinks that is a great idea and offers to buy my lunch. Chipotle + Free Lunch = Sweet #2! Finally, after 3 PM, the garage calls. He’s looked over my car and there’s nothing wrong with it. He says that since the battery was disconnected, the car needs to ‘relearn’ the proper idle rate. The car is ready for pick up AND there’s no charge for the visit. No problems + No charge = Sweet #3!!! As stressed as I am about finances this month, I almost burst into tears at the good news!

And then … the universe spins!

I have to catch a bus into Downtown to catch the trolley. When two buses show up, I usually hop on the second bus as everyone usually rushes the first one. I saw that the second bus started with a 7 — and that’s all I saw. It wasn’t until a few blocks later when we were in the opposite lane than we should have been in that I noticed that I was on the WRONG bus. Wrong bus = Blerg! Ok, so I’ll get off at the next stop across the bridge and do so. I start walking and checking google maps to see if there will be a bus going by in the near future. The next bus isn’t until 4:53 (and it’s 4:30), so I decide to walk from one end of Carson Street (at the Birmingham Bridge) to Station Square (a good 1.65 mile hike. Yes, I tracked it!)

Once I arrive at Station Square, I only have a wait a few minutes for a Blue Line trolley. I’m actually able to get a seat thanks to a nice young gentleman who decided to stand instead of sit. I grab the seat, I’m plugged in listening to Justin, playing Candy Crush, and reading my timelines. I don’t notice anything different about this trolley until the stop where it announces that it does not serve Library (which I need) but goes to South Hills Village (not what I need). Wrong trolley = Blerg #2! I quickly hop off as the doors are closing and have to wait five minutes for the right trolley. A few minutes later, I’m at my trolley stop and ready to hike the mile back to the garage (uphill, both ways, in bare feet, in 2 feet of snow, get off my lawn). I hop in my car and drive home (and stop for a fast food dinner) with no incidents!

And then, the highlight of my evening. Vampire Boy mentions that he needs poster board for a school project that is due on Friday. I have to pick up Social Diva from her church program at 8, so we plan to leave the house early enough to stop at Dollar General on our way. We come out of Dollar General, I turn the key, and all I hear is click, click, click, click. WTF?!!? Dead battery = Blerg #3!!!

So there’s a novel (thank for hanging in there) on how my day started out with sunshine and daisies, and then turned into clouds and snowflakes!

PS: I had to call Social Diva’s dad to pick her up at the church, and finally used my AAA membership to come help me. AAA sent a truck to check my battery, jump it, and then sell me a new one (which I’m sure I could have gotten cheaper at Advance Auto myself).

When It Rains …

… it effing pours!

I am not a fan of January. I’m one of those people who drive themselves crazy via baking frenzy and trying to make Christmas enjoyable for everyone else. While I’m relieved when the holidays are over, January is not a fun month. We’re only three weeks into it this year, and I’m ready to hang up the towel with this year.

To add to the typical January funk, my car was starting to act up by running rough. Ok, fine, I’ll ask my stepdad to help with a tune up. I learned how to change my spark plugs and wires. Once the job was done, the engine still idled rough and wanted to stall while idling at traffic lights. On my way to the dentist on Monday, the car stalled twice so I rerouted back home, cancelled our dentist appointments, and called the mechanic for an appointment. Twenty-four hours later with a PVC valve hose replacement, new front brake pads, an inspection and resultant lighter wallet, I was happy to pick up my car and bring him home. While I enjoyed my T/bus commute to work for a week (really enjoyed being able to read again!) letting someone else fight the traffic, I was happy to drive myself again this morning.

Fast forward to 8 PM tonight. Social Diva and her friend need a ride home from a church group function. No problem, I can pick the girls up. Little did I know that the Universe was going to slap me again.

On our way home, I stopped at a yellow light at a fairly busy intersection. The problem with my stopping is that the car behind me did not stop and rammed right into us, pushing my car into the intersection. After a brief moment of “Holy Shit, Is Everyone OK?!”, I  take a right to pull over so we can exchange information. I check with the girls that they’re ok (they were/are). I check with the other driver. He bumped his head, but he thinks he’s ok.  We exchange information, confirm again that everyone is ok, cars are drive-able, and we both leave.

I come home and call my insurance company to report the accident. The Ex recommends filing a police report, but the local PD says they would just help facilitate the insurance exchange (which we had already done). Social Diva’s friend isn’t sure if she feels well, so her dad leaves work to pick her up and have her looked over.

I’m still waiting for my pulse to slow down and my hands to quit shaking. I’ve been in two accidents before when I was a teen (which was a lonnnnng time ago) but it was just with the car I was driving and didn’t involve any other cars/drivers. I have never been hit before, and certainly never rear-ended. I keep wondering what the hell I’ve done to upset my karma and how soon (and how quickly) can I get rid of this black cloud of doom that seems to be looming overhead?

So, Universe? I’m done. Pretty please (with sugar on top), no more.

It’s Not My Parenting Style

So Vampire Boy and the Ex conspired behind my back.

I picked up Vampire Boy to drive him to work last Friday. As we’re sitting in morning traffic, chatting about nothing, I notice a piece of paper hanging out of his shorts pocket. I asked him what it was and he paused, not wanting to answer.

I pulled out the piece of paper and unfolded it. It was a letter resigning him from his position at the zoo, using the excuse that it was his senior year of high school and he was going to be busy with school and soccer responsibilities.

L.A.M.E. E.X.C.U.S.E.

I didn’t say anything at first, because of the shock of their behavior doing this behind my back. But the more I drove towards the zoo, the more pissed off I got, the more I didn’t say, and the more my eyes filled with tears at the “lesson” the Ex was teaching my son. The “lesson” I don’t approve of!

* I don’t approve of him giving up before even attempting to manage his senior year schedule of responsibilities.
* I don’t approve of sneaking behind someone’s back.
* I don’t approve of neither of them trying to talk about their plan.

Instead of encouraging him to give school work, soccer responsibilities, and the zoo schedule a chance and to TEACH him how to organize his life, Dad just gave him the go-ahead, and actually helped him write/print the letter to turn in. Now Dad has not been worried about scheduling the boy for his ACT exam, hasn’t been worried about senior pictures, hasn’t been worried about soccer schedule, etc. But he can worry BEFORE SCHOOL EVEN STARTS about how he should be able to enjoy his senior year.

So in (immature) retaliation, I sent over a copy of all of the paperwork that was just received in the mail regarding the start of the school year, including the registration information for the ACT exam, as well as the thick stack of advertisements I’ve been saving for senior pictures. If he’s so worried about his son’s “senior year,” he can now worry about all of the IMPORTANT senior year things.

I have resigned myself to the fact that if he doesn’t register him for the ACT exam, that they will have to figure out what he’s going to do about college.

I have resigned myself to the fact that if they drop the ball regarding senior pictures, there is a chance my son will not be in his senior yearbook.

Being a slight bit of a control freak, it certainly won’t be easy for me to not take make sure these things are taken care of.

But it will be interesting to see how things play out over the next few months.

The Rebound

As defined by

* Going from one relationship to the next right away to avoid the pain of a breakup;

* Hooking up with someone shortly after being dumped (by someone else) so that you still feel wanted;

* The kind of relationship that’s simply happening in order to get over one that recently ended.

You know it happens. I know it happens.  At some point, it happens in everyone’s lives. I’ve had (and known that they were) rebound relationships. You don’t care that the person isn’t really compatible with you, but you don’t care, you just want to “be” with someone (mentally or physically) because you hate to be/feel alone.

I’m the one who stepped away from my most recent relationship. I’m smart enough to work on what I’m not happy with related to me. I can’t be (and I’m not) upset that he chose to dive right into another relationship. Where I think he is making a mistake —  he’s not concerned about what went wrong with us and how to fix that for any future relationships.

Rebounds are great to help get you past the hurt, but you can’t ignore the underlying reason(s) for why prior relationships didn’t work.  When that rebound relationship ends?  You’re back to being alone.  You’re not any better off than where you began.

In the end, you have to love yourself first. Bringing someone else into your life should be the gravy.  At my age with a failed marriage and handful of ended relationships under my belt, I’m not willing to settle for “It’s OK.” The next man I allow into my circle had better plan to bring a lot to the relationship table. I can’t and won’t settle for less.

Moving (Not Me)

ImageMy sister, Queen of Questionable Decisions, told me around the end of January that she decided to move in with her boyfriend (of ? number of months; she’s never been clear about how long they were ‘dating’).

The Queen is the mom of two children: her oldest is 15, her youngest is 7.

Apparently, the Queen had thought out her move carefully. She was going to move necessary items to the BF’s house in Bobtown, PA (Greene County, yikes!) and would place her furniture and household items not needed at a storage facility. Sounds like a good plan, right?

Before I left for my Rock Boat vacation, I made the mistake of telling the Queen that I could help her when I returned from my trip.

Some background: I have helped the Queen move at least ten times over the past 15 years. I am the only person who promises to help her and actually shows up. Her friends (the Smart Ones) forget, can’t make it, have other plans, or fill in the blank, when the Queen mentions moving. For one move, it was me, the Queen, and one of her friends. Of the three of us, I was the only one who was not post-gastric bypass surgery with restrictions on heavy lifting.  That move involved icy roads and rickety steps into an apartment. Don’t be jealous.

So I’m sitting in the Orlando airport waiting for my flight home from my awesome vacation. I text the Queen to inquire as to how her move was going.  (She had given three weeks’ notice at her job and her last day was the week before I left on vacation. She had an entire week to get started on packing.)

Our text exchange:

What the F happened when I was away?  Oh wait, I’m getting off track of the subject of this post. SQUIRREL!

Back to the move.  I gave my kids the option of coming with me to help or staying home and sleeping in. My smart kids elected to stay home and sleep in.

The plan was for her to arrive with the U-Haul truck at 10 AM. At 9:45, when I am 10 minutes away from arrival at her house, I get a text from her that she should be there at 10:30.

Me: That’s ok, I have a key and can let myself in.

Queen: I changed the locks on New Years.

Awesome! After two cups of coffee and a 45 minute drive, I need to pee!  Sister shows up within 10 minutes. Whew, that was close.

So I take a look around. I don’t see a packed box in sight. I see closets and dressers still full of clothes. I see jewelry still hanging from hooks. In her kids’ room, there are containers full of toys (that are never played with). It’s 10:15 and I’m ready to burst into tears. Nothing is ready. Nothing is marked on whether it’s going to the new house or going to storage.

Her new husband shows up with his cousin. So there’s 4 of us and only 3 of us can carry heavy stuff. (She’s post-surgery and restricted to no heavy lifting.) Here we go again! Her husband has no clue on how to move or pack a moving truck! About an hour into trying to get her organized, my mom and step-dad show up. Whew, at least another body who can help carry stuff! I joke a million times (not exaggerating) about signing the Queen up for Hoarders.

Thanks to my bossiness, we get the truck loaded with the items going to Bobtown. The husband’s cousin had to be home by 2:30, so they headed to unload. Mom, step-dad, and I aren’t making the drive to unload so we head to lunch. Their ETA to return with truck is within 2-1/2 hours. We have lunch, hang out at mom’s house to kill time, and head back to sister’s around 2:30. She soon calls and say’s she’ll be there in a hour (3:30). Fabulous! I had hoped to leave by 4 so this was just awesome news. (#Sarcasm)

To speed things up, we begin carrying and lining up the items going to storage. To make a long story short, we get the truck loaded with items going to storage. It’s now 4:15. Since I had left my kids at home all day, I am now ready to leave. I apologized for not sticking around to unload at the storage unit, but I wanted to get home to my kids.

Once I get home, I pass out for a two hour coma nap. I wake up to a text thanking me for my help, and stating that “she did everything by herself.” I still don’t know what she thinks she did since NOTHING was packed or ready. After dinner and a hot shower, I am back in bed at 10 PM and sound asleep within minutes. Exciting Saturday night in my life!

LESSON LEARNED:  The next time my sister mentions moving that does not involve a professional moving team, I am busy.