June 21, 2017

The Headline read, "...but he SNEEZED repeatedly your Honor..."

That title is definitely going to be on the front page of the local paper if The Husband sneezes ONE more time this evening.  This is what twenty-six and a half years of marriage comes down to...

The Husband has been sneezing.  And it's never just ONE sneeze, oh no, it's usually several in a row.  I can hear you asking, "So?  It's a sneeze, no big deal."

But yes, faithful Reader, it IS a big deal.  Because, apparently, The Husband believes that his brain will blow out of his ears if he tries to tame the sneeze in any way; which means that when he does sneeze the result is so loud and obnoxious that I'm already deciding where to bury the body when I lose it once and for all.

The man is already loud.  He talks loud.  He cooks loud.  He chews loud.  For God's sake, he even SLEEPS loud.  The least he could do is sneeze quieter.  Really?  Is that TOO much to ask?

Yes, I know.  He's a good man and I love him dearly but if I hear one more sneeze tonight that is loud enough to shatter my eardrums I can't be held accountable for my actions.

If you love me even a little, start a legal fund.

June 16, 2017

Balancing the check book?

I was chatting with a co-worker the other day.  She was telling me that she had finally set up an account for her daughter to teach her how to handle money and deal with a debit card.  I agreed that it was an important thing for her to learn.  We had done the same with Man-Child when he was in high school.

She then went on to tell me about trying to teach her daughter about balancing the check book.  I looked at her in shock and then uttered, "But...she can see all her transactions online...she doesn't really need to actually balance the check book..."

My co-worker figures that she balances her check book and that her daughter should as well.  Despite the fact that her daughter will probably never actually write out a check in her life.

Now, I don't know about you, but we (The Husband or myself) haven't balanced a check book in YEARS.  We write so few actual checks these days; maybe about three a year - in fact up until recently we had been using checks that had our address from three houses ago - that there doesn't seem to be much of a point to it.  Yes, we check our activity online to make sure that we aren't being compromised but in our minds, as long as the bank is recording our transactions we are pretty squared up.

So here's the question, are we the weird ones?  Is everyone else still physically balancing their check books?

I'll be quite relieved to hear we aren't the only ones, if that is the case, because if I have to go back to the nightmare that balancing a check book was for me, I may just cry.  Or better yet, I'll pretend I never read that I should be doing it.

June 13, 2017

It's Official! And other bits of random news.

It came quietly; but it came...

Man-Child has graduated from college.  He got the notification on Friday.  Pomp and Circumstance was not involved.  Mainly, because Man-Child discovered that "walking" was NOT a requirement in order to get the actual degree.  And because he needed to take a CPR class before he was conferred the degree.

He took the CPR class two weekends ago, a week or two after the actual ceremony and received the official word that he is done.  So far, he is refusing a celebration of any kind, other than a small, family dinner.

I keep telling him that a party is in order and he continues to refuse.  Despite the fact that this is the child that has historically demanded a party for any occasion; no matter how small the event.  Despite the fact that this child has so many people that want to celebrate his accomplishments, he refuses to even consider the possibility.

I've also been trying to get him to let me take a picture so I can at least send announcements.  He claims he will but then spends every weekend somewhere else.

I think he is just being obstinate to spite me at this point.

At any rate - that's the big news.  As for the other news, well...I really should write more often if only so I don't have to go back and figure out what I haven't told you or when it happened or temper the good news with news that isn't as good.

There is much going on in the Gigi household of late.  That dream job that Man-Child landed back in December for the upcoming school year?  Gone.  Thanks to budget cuts.  Which let me interject a little rant here - just WHERE is the lottery money going anyway?  We were told it would be for education but yet it seems that the schools never have enough money and their budgets are always slashed.  So much for making education a priority North Carolina.

As if THAT wasn't disheartening enough for him, the VERY next day his car died on the interstate.  What is it with us and cars anyway?!  It seems we are killing them off very quickly in this house.  So now we are trying to figure out that solution - which, let me be honest, The Husband is dragging his feet on.  I know, I know...he doesn't want to make a stupid, hasty, expensive and, possibly regrettable, decision, but at the same time this has been going on for over a month now...despite the fact that HE is the one being the most inconvenienced.  I'm hoping that this issue will be resolved this weekend.  In fact, I'm putting my foot down.  It WILL be resolved this weekend.

The Summer Hours thing?  Well, I'm here to report that yes, the days are still extremely long and I can't yet say that it is worth it considering that last Friday afternoon I did absolutely nothing.  Well, I had lunch with the guys but once I drove here to do that I really didn't want to drive back to town and it was too hot to do yard work.  And I really didn't have anything fun to do.  So I read a magazine.  The main reason I bought the magazine because the main article was something along the lines of "how to get stuff done."  So basically, I read an article about how to get stuff done rather than actually getting stuff done.

So I know you are now wondering - what magical tips did this article have to get stuff done?  I'm sure you are sitting there thinking, "I sure hope she tells us what the article said!"  So I will tell you...

Just do it.

Yup, in a nutshell, this article that spanned a good three or four pages all boiled down to those three little words.

I was a little disappointed, as I am sure you are.  I wanted some magical cure but there isn't one.  If you want to get stuff done you have to do it.  Or fork over the cash to have someone else do it but, either way, you have to make it happen.  And to think I spent $6.00 for this bit of knowledge.

And if you think about it, this post is kinda like that article...I could boil this post down into a much smaller version:

  • He graduated
  • He lost his job
  • He lost his car
  • Summer Hours
  • Wasted time and money reading an article

But where's the fun in that?

The one really good thing about Summer Hours, so far?  Since I come in ridiculously early now, I can pretty much have any parking spot I want!  Yes, it is five years later and I still am aggravated that MY spot has been usurped pretty much on a daily basis...but now, at least during Summer Hours, I have an even BETTER spot - unless I go out to lunch.  So take THAT anonymous spot stealer!

June 7, 2017

Summer Hours...this better be worth it.

Our company has decided to try something new.  Which considering the company we used to be is nothing short of a miracle.

They have decided that we will take a stab at "Summer Hours."  What are Summer Hours?  That is when you work eight and half hours (versus the seven and a half) Monday through Wednesday and eight hours on Thursday, taking only a thirty minute lunch, so that you only have to work until noon on Friday.

Sounds fantastic, right?

Until you start to look at the nitty-gritty logistics of it all.  First, let's examine this thirty minute lunch.  This is flat out impossible.  We don't have a cafeteria.  Even if you were to bring in your lunch every day - unless it's a sandwich - odds are you are going to need to use the microwave.  Now if everyone is bringing their lunch in there will be a line at the microwave thereby reducing your time to actually eat said lunch.  And even if you don't bring your lunch, there isn't even time to run to the MacDonald's on the corner to pick something up to bring something back to eat at your desk.

Fortunately, they have said that the individual managers have to ability to be "flexible" with how the time is worked out.  As long as we are putting in the requisite amount of hours to equal the thirty-seven and a half work week hours, it should be good, if our manager is okay with it.  Do not ask me why some of us only work thirty seven and a half hours per week, I do not have an answer, nor is it a question I want to raise.

Now MY manager has yet to address this issue.  And knowing this manager he probably never will.  So my co-worker and I have set our own hours for this experiment.  We both determined that thirty minutes for lunch will NOT work for us.  And we both determined that we still needed to be able to leave the office at 4:30 pm.  So we did the math - it was a grueling task.

And here is where we landed - we are coming in at 7:00 am every day, taking an hour lunch and still leaving at 4:30 pm (except for Thursday).  Perfect plan, right?

Until day three of arriving at work at 7:00 am.

On day three we have discovered that getting to work at 7:00 am daily necessitates either rushing through and/or discarding some of the morning routines OR having to go to bed extraordinarily early (which is saying something considering I am in the equation and already go to bed fairly early - which means I'm going to bed REALLY, REALLY early, as in it may still be daylight outside when I turn in).  On day three, we have also discovered that the extra hour means for a REALLY, REALLY long day.

Considering that tomorrow is Thursday, we only have one more day of this torture before we get to Friday.  The day when we finally discover if all this will have been worth it.

And?  I just have to say, I'm glad I wasn't in on these meetings.  The math involved in just figuring out how to type this post has made my head hurt (and I'm sure it's still off somewhere); I can't imagine having to figure this out company wide.  I've also made a mental note to myself to send the lady who handles payroll a sympathy card.

June 3, 2017

A quick update / The Husband is doing his level best to drive me insane...

Before we jump into this particular blog post, a quick update, regarding what has now earned the permanent and official scientific name, That Damned Blackberry Bush ("TDBB") (patent pending).  The guy finally showed up today - when no one was home.  He removed the majority of it - but it appears he just weed-whacked it.  Although The Husband claims he put something on it so that it won't come back...we shall see.  Yes, it's safe to say, I'm skeptical.

On the plus side, for now TDBB is gone and my guys got a few things done in the yard today.  Unfortunately, I've achieved next to nothing.  Well, there's always tomorrow, right?

At any rate, as I am typing this, Man-Child is re-watching Stranger Things on Netflix.  The Husband is standing in the kitchen and asking questions.  I informed him that this was a great show and that he would love it.  He wondered if he'd be able to catch on since he missed the first episode.  As this was only the second episode, I assured him he would.

As I've continued to fiddle around online, The Husband continued to ask questions all while puttering around in the kitchen doing whatever it is he is doing.

I finally looked at him and said, "You will be able to pick up what is going on, if you STOP what you are doing, sit down and WATCH the show."

Obviously, he isn't prepared to do that as he is still puttering around in the kitchen and looking to me to fill in the gaps.

Although, I haven't been blogging much lately, you can see that the family dynamic hasn't changed much and, if the truth be told, it probably never will.  Which isn't necessarily a bad thing.

June 2, 2017

Another post about that damn blackberry bush...

It's a giant thorn in my side (get it?  Oh boy, I slay myself!)...

A couple of weeks ago, I was out there digging up the bush that continues to resurrect itself on a daily basis and I ran across a snake.  A baby snake, but still...where there is a baby, there is bound to be a mother and possibly a father and several siblings.  And, with my luck, that mother snake couldn't move away from her extended family after she married the father snake...

For all I know there is a whole VILLAGE of snakes out there.  And between you and me, if I am unwilling to deal with one baby snake then it is a foregone conclusion that I WILL NOT deal with a whole village of snakes.

So I abandoned the project mid-dig and ran to find The Husband.  Turns out that not only is he unwilling to dig up that stupid bush; he is also unwilling to deal with a village of snakes.  But promised that he would get someone out there to deal with the burgeoning bush STAT.

He called a guy.  The guy promised to come out and give us a quote to remove the bush (hopefully for good) and seed the random beds I removed with grass.  And then he never showed.

The Husband called him again last week and eventually he showed up and gave us a decent price.  He then promised that he would come by sometime this week to do the work and said he would permanently remove any snakes that he comes across (okay, before you all start claiming that snakes - particularly black snakes - are actually beneficial, I don't want to hear it.  I mean, honestly, YOU weren't the one that came face to face with a snake...a snake that WASN'T a black snake).

Has this guy shown up yet; late on a Friday evening?  No, he has not.  And not only that, with all the rain we had last week the blackberry bush has since TRIPLED in size.  It has reached the point that now there is no way I'm about to venture back in there because I wouldn't be able to see the ground; thus not being able to see the snake before he/she sees me!

At this rate, the blackberry bush is winning.  So are the snakes.  When I was a little girl this is not what I imagined my life would be like as an adult.

*sigh*