Of naming names & tweeting deets

It’s been the better part of a week since I left Primerica. It’s finally starting to sink in that I don’t have to go back. A woman I knew (I wouldn’t go so far as to call us friends. I’m only really friends with 1 person there) texted me & was like “There are a couple of jobs posted that you might be interested in!”. I texted her back & said “I wouldn’t go back there if you held a gun to my head”. I then reminded her that the reason I left in the first place was to go back to school. She apparently forgot that. I didn’t just give them the rage quit, even if it looked that way.

I’m sleeping better. I’m more relaxed. In general, I’m just a happier & more functional human being. Mark commented the next day how my body just seemed more relaxed even though I hadn’t fully accepted it yet. It was just such a toxic environment. Kyle’s (Jordan’s boss, so one level of supervision up from me) parting words were something along the lines of “Don’t trash talk us”. Too late, cowboy. Of course, it’s not trash talking if it’s the truth, eh? Now that I’m gone, I also have no qualms about using real names. What are they going to do about it?

Karma’s a bitch & it’s a shame I can’t be there to watch when they get theirs. Nothing in life is free & Jordan sure as shit didn’t earn where he is. I didn’t get an exit interview, but it’s not like HR didn’t know how I felt. I haven’t said anything on here or in my real life that I wouldn’t repeat to his face or in a court of law. The same is true for Kyle. Though he got himself in trouble for an off color comment he made that could have resulted in a sexual harassment suit. Teeheehee. Too bad it didn’t actually turn out that way.

On the entertaining side of things, if you follow me on Twitter (@RetroIndieQueen); I’m tweeting all the things they’re “paying” me to while I’m on my notice. It’s everything I do from 8a-5p EST. I’m not counting tomorrow, Thursday, or Friday. I’d already asked for tomorrow off, so the PTO kicks in. Obviously, Thursday & Friday are company holidays. So far they’ve paid me to take a nap, get a bikini wax, play around with new makeup looks, watch a fuckton of FBI Files, put together the paperwork to get my name changed, & play far too much Hay Day & Ticket to Ride on my iPad. If you want, check it out & be amused. I know I am.

Speaking of, I think I’ll spend the last 10 minutes of my “day” putting in the next disc of FBI Files. Then it’s “vacation” until next Monday.

Hope my U.S. readers have a happy, safe, and gluttonous Thanksgiving holiday. To all my non-U.S. readers, enjoy the rest of your week.



Of the good, the bad, and the ugly

I’ve fallen a bit off the blog radar. Fear not, loyal readers! I’m back.

The good:

*Day 2 of my new management level position. Rapidly discovering how much basic information I’m missing, but I’m getting there. My boss is being super patient with me. And he did warn me about this.

*I’m reading more for pleasure. I finally gave in and started reading 50 Shades of Grey. With a red pen. Hilarity has ensued. There was many a moment where I was yelling at the book and / or to Boy in the next room with painful examples of what bad fanfic can do when released to the unknowing public. I missed my calling. I should’ve been an editor.

*10 weeks & 4 days until I’m mobile again.

*Got my hair trimmed and redyed. I feel about a million times better about how I look. And I’ve dyed several pillowcases pink in the process.

*Saw Butch Walker on Saturday night. He put on a great show, as always. I was happy to get another shot at seeing him live.

*I put glittery stickers all over my laptop. Because you’re never too old for glittery stickers.

The bad:

*One of our kitties passed last week. We’d had her for over 10 years and she hadn’t been doing well for a while. It’s always sad to say goodbye.

The ugly:

*Working up the courage to clean my bathroom. The CDC would have a field day in there. ‘Nuff said.

*My family at Christmas. Again, ’nuff said.

I have a longer, more philosophical post brewing. But for now, enjoy the Cliff Notes version.


Of family and taking them for granted

My grandfather was clinically dead for 5-10 minutes on Friday night. The final determination was his heart slowly stopped beating. Once they got him on the floor, he came to. Then refused to go to the hospital until my dad (almost literally) slapped some sense into him. My mom called while Boy & I were out at dinner as they were in transit to the hospital. I’ve heard about my grandparents’ issues after the fact, never while they’re unfolding. She sounded really upset. In turn, that upset me. Originally, I wasn’t planning on going with them to my grandparents’ house for Thanksgiving. I was going to hang around the house, read, knit, and watch football. After that incident, I decided to go with them. I know I’d feel like an ass if he dropped dead and hadn’t seen me in 4 years. He’s a misogynistic, racist, homophobic pain the ass. Most of that is probably just being a product of his generation. He was born in 1929 when all that stuff was standard beliefs. He’s rarely has a kind word to say to my sister or me, especially me. The tattoos have always been a bone of contention. I know it means a lot to my mom that I at least make an appearance. She was originally trying to talk me into going for the family Christmas party the weekend before Christmas. My sister lives in Minnesota and has sworn she’ll never come back for a holiday. My cousin, the only other grandchild on that side of the family, lives in Florida and has 3 small children. That leaves me as the sole representative for my generation. Just like my mom is the sole representative of hers. She has a sister, but last I heard she was living in a trailer in Kansas with a meth problem the size of a small country. Needless to say, I’m not thrilled with the idea of going. In the long run, it’s easier to suck it up for 48 hours than come up with excuses to not go. I’ll probably spend those 2 days holed up in one of the bedrooms with Hulu, a book, and my knitting, emerging only to eat and bathe.

The incident on Friday did make me consider the mortality of my grandparents. I’m pushing 30 and still have all 4 of them. Most of my friends have one, maybe 2 at the most still alive. They’re all in their 80s with problems of various degrees. Both grandfathers have had open heart surgery. My paternal grandmother has a brain tumor and has already beaten lung cancer once. My maternal grandmother is mostly bionic at this point. Whichever of my mom’s parents goes first, we’ll get stuck with the other one. They may all live another decade. One of them may drop dead tomorrow. Either way, when the inevitable happens, I’ll be upset because my parents are upset, not because I’m close to any of the grandparents. It makes me sound like a horrible person, but it’s true. The whole point of this blog is be authentic, good, bad, or indifferent.

On a less serious note, a little over 18 working hours until 4 days off. Is it Wednesday yet?