i'm a rebel

Am I breaking the law by wearing Socks to Stay Home In to work?

acid stomach

Ug. Ug ug ug.
I just did a dumb thing. Someone roller-derby related gave me something they'd printed out at home. I wanted to Xerox something black and white onto the back, before I handed it off to someone else.
I dont' have a Xerox at home, just a color laser printer-- the black and white it produces is rich black, it's just expensive ink and shinier than I wanted to be.
So I chucked it into the photocopier at work while I was copying other things.
...
Apparently this person's home printer uses thermal ink. That solid stuff.
It melted.
Jesus fucking Christ.
It melted onto the image drum.
Of my work Xerox.
A personal photocopy.
Jesus fucking Christ.
My whole body went cold and then hot all over as I looked at the failed photocopy and realized what had happened.
Immediately I ran off ten blank copies of nothing. Each successive one got less and less streaky.
But it's still a little streaky.

Someone else is over there now running off copies, I can hear them. It's not horrible. But it's streaky. They haven't said anything though.
Fuck, man. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

I mean, it'd be one thing if my manager was like, "Girl, you know, you're not being as productive as you were, and I just don't think you were cut out for sales." I'd be all, "You know, I don't think so either," and there'd be no hard feelings, I'd just take my shit and go home and we'd part friends and all that. But to be like, "Woman, your klutzy and pilfering ways have destroyed valuable office equipment, get the hell out of here---"
That's something else entirely.
Not something I would be like, "You know, you're right, and I understand."
More like, "My God, I am an idiot, I am sorry, let me go jump off a cliff."

Fuckity fuck!

And I have to be at practice at 6:30 tonight.
And my knee is hurting.
And I followed up with the person who was getting my health insurance all sorted out and it would be fine, and she's like, "Um, well... uh... well..." Which isn't really good. She'll get back to me.
...
I've never really had problems with acid stomach and heartburn before this roller derby season.
Funny old world.
Funny old world.

hate

Hate is a strong word.
But it is not too strong to describe what I feel when someone asks me a question and then talks over my answer.
I am fucking sick of it.
I hate people that do it.
I get very snippy.
Then they think I'm the rude one.

So I just stop talking. I actually said to someone, after a long silence, "Do you want me to answer the question now, or were you still talking?"
"Answer the question!"
"OK, the answer is--"
"Because you're being very rude to me! All I want to know is the answer to my question!"
Long silence.
"The answer is--"
"I should report you."
*click*

That's a fantasy. I haven't hung up on anyone. I just speak very slowly and clearly.

The other great one is when someone keeps me on the phone twenty minutes and asks me the same question four times, then puts me on speakerphone and has me repeat the answers a fifth time to his wife, who has been standing there the whole time.

Jesus.
Fucking.
Christ.


Sorry, I'm just not really in a very sunshiney place to start this new year.

The last one just said that the age of computers has made everyone very ignorant.
"Rude, too," I quipped, before biting my tongue.