Expenses Without Receipt

Starting from Friday, August 28:

• We go back to Thursday, August 27, the first day of the State Fair.  Didn't have as much money as I wanted, so I relied on my credit card for the Blue Barn Sweet Squeakers (which is fast becoming an annual staple), the Frozen Blue beer, Swedish coffee, and Cherry Jumbo Limeade Float from, uh, that place (I should commit the shop's name to memory; I can see getting this year after year, too).  But I shelled out cash for the Gizmo (first time ever I've eaten at this place), the corn, and the Peachey's Amish donut.  With a tip for the Gizmo the total is: $26.
• On Tuesday the 25th I went to Caribou before work partly so I could get cash.  A medium mocha (just a mocha, not one of their signature mochas), minus trivia and plus tip, gets to: $7.25.
• That evening I had to go to our alumni Game-watching place to make sure it was OK for us to watch our Game, which is that Saturday, there.  We could.  With tip I spent: $37.
• All the way back to Saturday, August 15, where I went to Porchfest at the Wedge neighborhood.  Wish I could have spent some more time down there, walking through the streets and catching bands playing.  I tipped the bands, and I also got a cup of lemonade from a family selling it.  Total amount I spent for Porchfest: $5.
• Monday, August 3: ******a, oh, ******a: $150.
• We hurtle back to Tuesday, July 28, where I had to see Supergirl a second time because I missed the very start of it the first time.  Ticket, popcorn, pop, minus my $5 discount because I used points (I got food with a movie for the first time in a long time, and knowing how much it regularly costs, I won't be buying food again for a while) comes out to: $17.30.
• Sunday, July 26 ... this is the day I wanted to drive to Iowa, but I had to wait for ****e* to get here, and I finally just left because her lazy but nice ass couldn't get out of her house when she promised she would.  Not mad, just disappointed.  I got to The Day The Music Died Memorial, which is out on a private cornfield, in the early evening.  Wish I had went when it wasn't blisteringly humid, but you can't predict the weather.  Still, it was eerie and moving, and I'm glad I got to pay my respects.  And I got to pay it alone; I got to the parking lot, which is across the gravel street from the memorial site, as another person was leaving, and no one came after me.  There was an RV of someone who was tending to the gravel parking lot I parked at.  I got the feeling she and her family appointed themselves as caretakers of the memorial and the parking lot.  They had little trinkets to sell, and they asked for donations.  I appreciated that someone is dedicating themselves to keeping up the area, so I donated: $5.
• On Saturday the 25th I went out to Stillwater and got Nelson's Ice Cream.  This place is famous for heaping scoop upon scoop upon scoop of ice cream.  Their smalls are large.  I appreciate that in these days of paying more and getting less, but this was ridiculous.  With tip: $8.
• I wanted to get ice cream after I saw *****y, but her hot but finicky ass made me cum see her after ice cream.  And then she made me cum: $150.
• Thursday, July 23: I don't know if the date is right.  But I have this as the day I went to Nelson's -- not the ice cream shop in Stillwater but the deli place close to home.  Got a Hero, a medium chicken wild rice soup, and a can of RC Cola.  With tip the total was: $17.32.
• Wednesday the 22nd -- had to buy lottery tickets, both lotteries.  Total: $14.
• I then got gasoline.  Paid cash for it: $32.
• To Sunday the 19th, where I went to Grandpa Joe's for a Whistler pop.  Minus the bottle deposit I paid: $1.62.
• I then went to the Black Hart to watch some World Cup soccer.  Can of cider plus tip: $7.
• That night I went to a local theater to watch The Odyssey.  This is an historic one-screen place (although it's owned by a company that has a few historic one-screen places) that showed the film in 70mm.  This is a theater where the person running the screening is an aficionado, and he showed how better the resolution a flick is in 70mm by bringing out the reel in which the film is threaded.  I like the presentation.  I love the movie, too; it's fantastic, and the probable Oscar favorite for Best Film.  Small popcorn, small pop, and tips for concessions and the organist (I used my credit card for the ticket): $14.
• Finally, on Wednesday, July 15, I took that day and the following day off for World Cup Semifinals -- and, on this day, to take my car in for maintenance.  After the oil change and tire rotation, I took my vehicle to the car wash.  Paid for the wash, but the tip was in cash: $5.
• Because there was nothing seriously wrong with the car, I had time to go to Flameburger to take in breakfast.  Great to eat there; will return next year.  Got their meal of half an egg, hash browns and toast, and with a small apple juice and tip it cost me: $15.
• Later that afternoon I went to Brit's Pub to see Spain handcuff France, 2-0.  There went my World Cup pick.  With tip: $54.

I keep saying this because it remains true: I have to do these EWRs more often.

Good through August 28.

I Have To See Supergirl Again Because I Took A Shit For Too Long

I have this -- I think I've spoken about this before -- OCD thing whereby if I don't see a movie from the beginning, I will, most likely, pay another ticket to see it again so I can be sure to see it from the beginning.  Now, that is kind of a problem if I don't drop everything and make a concerted effort to get to the theater in time to make sure I see that film from the beginning.  But until last/Tuesday night, the last movie whose start I missed was Equalizer 3.

Well, I missed the start of Supergirl.  And what I really hate about myself is that I planned on getting there in plenty of time, and everything that I needed to happen so I could get there in plenty of time happened.  I was given a shift where, if I had a normal shift, I would get out at 3:30.  I never have a normal shift at work, but I only had to stay a little longer, till 3:45.  The listed showtime is 3:50, and they have so many trailers that I knew I had plenty of time to get there.  And I didn't want to get there so early that I would start looking at my watch to see how long after the listed showtime will the damn thing actually start.  I've grown to hate trailers, so, after I punched out at work, I went to the bathroom.  Nature called.

And that's where I fucked myself.  By the time I got done relieving myself, I looked at my watch and saw that it was, oh, around 4:05.  The theater is close to work, but it still took me about ten minutes.  And even though I was able to get a ticket, the guy giving me my ticket said I missed the first 5-10 minutes.

Goddammit!  I lollygagged.  I didn't look at my watch.  Seeing how much time I thought I had when I clocked out made me overestimate how much time I really had.  I was doomscrolling as I was pooping, proving once again that looking at your phone promotes brain rot.  And, sorry to get too graphic, I did have to go.  I picked up a limited time honey brown butter bacon, egg and cheese biscuit, a sausage burrito, and a coffee from McDonald's on the way to work, and that lubricated my excretory system.  It was the second time I had to void waste during my workday, and so when you need to do #2, you can't just say you're done if there's more you need to force out of your body.  Maybe I shouldn't've eaten any breakfast at all.  That would mean I wouldn't need to doo-doo, and I could've just gone to the theater instead.  But nope, I had this great plan laid out before me, and I just tossed it to the side.

And what really makes me hate myself?  Sorry, I don't think Supergirl's that good.  Now, please don't get this twisted.  There are a lot of Republicans and incels who hate this movie for culture war/rage bait reasons, which are not legitimate reasons.  I thought the movie was kind of rote and, um, boring.  But my OCD compels me to buy another ticket so I can see this mediocre flick again in its entirety.

I plan on seeing Toy Story 5 after work today/Wednesday.  I was hoping the showtimes for that movie and Supergirl would line up in such a way so that I could get to the theater super early, buy my ticket to Toy Story 5, and sneak in to see the start of Supergirl, then go see Toy Story 5 from the start.  But unless I get there in the afternoon, that can't happen.  Welp, that means I need to see Supergirl again either Tuesday or next Wednesday.  That's when the price of tickets are the cheapest at the theater I go to.  I may have OCD, but I also know a bargain when I see one.  And hell, I might change my mind and not see this C+ movie from the beginning anyway.  But I could've just avoided all this mess if I would've  taken advantage of the time I had and shit quicker.  So disappointed in myself.

Never-Ending Tea

I continued my World Cup-watching sojourn around the cities last/Thursday night at this new Mediterranean place for Switzerland-Algeria.  I saw it was a restaurant that was going to show Matches.  Unfortunately, that is not quite the case.

First of all, as I peered into the restaurant right after parking, their TV was not tuned to that.  Instead, their TV(s) was/were being used for their menu.  I don't know if the owners of the restaurant also own the Yemeni coffee place right next to it, but they were showing the Game on their outdoor patio.  Sold.  Plus, I heard good things about this place, so this was a good time to try it out and try something I've never tried before.

Well, the victuals and libations were great but the atmosphere wasn't.  Well, the Match-watching wasn't.  For some damn reason, the TV was using a stick or a streamer that tuned in to not Fox Sports 1 or Telemundo but the Arabic feed for BeIn, which I guess holds the rights to the World Cup in the Arab world.  Why they just didn't bleepin' get satellite is beyond me, because this feed or stick or streamer or television set had this nasty habit of cutting out and reverting to audio every five minutes, and the only way to restore the picture was to use the remote control and hit a button.  The first time this happened the people on the patio watching the Game were scrambling, and by the time we got the video feed back, Switzerland scored what eventually became the Match-winner.  I was going to stay the whole Match, but I was done after the First Half.  Well, the mosquitos biting me didn't help, either.

The problem with watching World Cup Games in restaurants and pubs is that I feel compelled to give them business by buying food and drink.  So I have bought a lot of food and drink, including yesterday/Thursday.  I got out of work at a very decent time, so I had the chance to see Portugal-Croatia in its entirety, and I decided to go to this Mexican place to see the whole thing.  And since I was staying for two hours, I bought a plate of barbacoa chilaquiles with a Corona before the First Half, then a cup of esquites with a Coke for the Second Half.  I got so damn full after that, but I was determined to try out this new place and challenge my palate with "ethnic" food and drink.

And, of course, my stomach is distended because of it.  I settled for Dubai chocolate cake, which has been a cliche for two years now, but it was good.  So was the Adeni tea that I had ... er, am still having.  As of press time, I'm still not done with the cup.  It's a medium-sized cup, something akin to a medium from Caribou.  And while I sometimes need to finish up the mochas that evening, the only times I haven't finished drinks like that is when I forgot, and then I have to drink quick in the morning.

That is not necessarily the case with this.  My stomach might have been telling me it couldn't, um, stomach any more liquids after eating at the Mexican place.  Also, I have to say that Adeni team was damn hot.  I got it early in the First Half, and even as the Game went to Halftime, the cup was hot to the touch.  The hot and humid weather can't explain that.  But I got home to drink this tea while watching from my bedroom for the Second Half.  I tried to drink it all because it was only warm at this point.  But by God, I couldn't get done with this.  Swear to God this is a bottomless cup of Adeni tea.  If this were a a mocha from Caribou, chances are I could finish it.  But there was still more, and still more, and still more, no matter how much I drank.

Finally, I remembered that I juiced the other half-lemon before going to the Mexican restaurant, so I needed to make myself a cocktail (a sidecar) to use the lemon juice.  So that means I have tea left over.  Oh, and I still have coffee from work yesterday/Thursday left over, too.  And I still need to drink my sidecar, but right now I am sipping only because I am damn full.

I checked the World Cup schedule for next week.  Since we're getting into the really important Games, the number of them obviously dwindles, and they'll be played in the afternoons when I'm working.  USMNT is playing Monday night.  Other than that, I do not need to go out and eat and drink to watch soccer the rest of next week until next Saturday.  Maybe I will stop eating and drinking so much then.  And hopefully I will have drank all the tea by then, too.

It's July 2025 All Over Again

So last week I was at My Favorite Coffeeshop doing, among a couple other things, going through my receipts.  Serves me right to get them all in order but not bring my day planner so I could write the amounts down.  Anyway, I have this leather pouch from culture and lifestyle magazine Monocle, which I bought when I went to Hong Kong, that I purchased just so I can shove all my receipts in it.  I haven't done a good job of cleaning it out, though, because as I was doing some digging, I saw a few receipts that were in there should have been accounted for.  They were from July 12 of last year.

In my day planner, I write down all the things I paid cash for, then see whether I spent more money than I got from the bank or not, and by how much.  To be honest, and this may not make sense, in all but, oh, three months since I started this way back in my twenties, I have finished a month taking out more money from my account than spending it.  Anyway, at the end of every month, I make a table and write all my cash transactions (what I spent and what I took out of an ATM) down.  For the month of July, I now had to re-do that table.  Moreover, I am rewriting it for a third time; it turns out there were some receipts from July 12 of last year I found, presumably in that pouch, after I did this month-end table the first time.

It's all done.  Wait -- I can't say that with any conviction.  There could be other receipts.

Help Me, Bill Shatner, I'm Not Regular!

At the college baseball Games yesterday/Saturday, I had coffee before the first Game, had a cheeseburger, fries and a beer between the first and second (aside: They screwed up my order ... I ordered a cheeseburger, I overheard someone order just a hamburger [even though a hamburger isn't on the menu and I don't ever ask for modifications from ordering food at a Game], someone was about to give me a cheeseburger but then yanked it back to swap it with a hamburger ... when I told the workers I wanted cheese, someone in the back just threw a cold slice of cheddar on top of the burger ... I saw the cheeseburger they were about to give me; that cheese was melted ... lazy bums), and a hot dog and a souvenir Wild Cherry Pepsi between the second and third.  And then, once the Games were done, I stopped by Taco Bell.

You know what this should mean, right?  Colon blow, stuff like that.  Nope.  I am not regular.  It's bothering me to no end.  Maybe the spaghetti I'm about to make will do the trick, but the trick should already have been done.

Now, about relieving yourself: Have you seen that cereal commercial with William Shatner?  The one where he calls himself "Will Shat?"  I believe this ad, which aired in the Super Bowl, is a sign of the end times:

I blame Trump.  But sheepishly I admit that I really, really want to try this to regulate my gut.  It's for Kellogg's Raisin Bran, by the way.  I rarely remember what memorable commercials advertise for.

Tea Does Not Go With Steak, That's Fucking Ridiculous

I have resolved to drink more tea, and possibly more tea than coffee.  My parents and sister drink it religiously, and knowing the health benefits, I should probably get into it a lot more.  But that doesn't mean I want to drink it with everything, like I was forced to last/Sunday night.

My Fucking Mother detected this bug that I picked up watching my alma mater at a bar and told my sister to give me tea.  And she did it again last/Sunday night, but this was when we were having a steak dinner.  I don't care, tea doesn't go with steak.  I drank it because I need to fucking keep the peace around the house, but it's bullshit to even think that tea goes with steak.  I had a Coke waiting for me inside the fridge, and I was going to drink that with my steak because that's a perfect marriage of food and drink.  But tea and steak ... pffft.  The taste of each ruins the other.  There's a time and place for tea and a time and place for steak.  That time and place are not together.  But that's what I friggin' had last night.

I shouldn't be so mad at this.  But I am.  So, to passive-aggressively rebel, I ate nuts about an hour ago and washed it down with that Coke I wanted to drink for dinner.  So there.

A Lot/Too Much Coffee

So yesterday/Monday was National Coffee Day, and I decided that out of the two gas stations that offered me free coffee, I would go to the closer one because there free coffee was any size.  I got a large because ... well, I guess I didn't look for an extra large, maybe because it wouldn't fit in the cup holders in my car, but a large was plenty.  As it was brewing at the automatic coffee brewer, I stepped back and looked at the huge large cup and went, "Whoa, even for a large, that cup is, uh, large."  Seriously, even for American sizes, I think the cup I got should be an extra large.

And, of course, I didn't finish it.  A lot of it has to do with work; The Third Department was its usual bear.  But I still think I drank more coffee than I usually do; it's just that I had a very large pool of coffee to get through, and I didn't.  See, I have my own thermal bottle in which I always pour my coffee into to keep it warm.  Even after I did that, the cup from the gas station was two-thirds full.  I managed to drink everything that was in that cup, but barely anything I poured into my thermal bottle.

And that is where it stayed until just now.  Even though I'm not hungry, even though I had popcorn and Coke while watching Bride Of Frankenstein (nice movie; like the allegory of the Monster being misunderstood and even the meek in biblical terms ... oh, and the cinematography was excellent) about five hours beforehand, and even though I need to go to sleep, I drank some of the coffee still in my bottle to wash down a cookie I got working the Vikings Game that is 370 calories.  Damn, I need to watch my blood sugar.  Oh, well, I think I can contemplate how to lower that, and cut down on my weight, tonight because I will be tossing and turning in bed all night.

And I still haven't drank all of the coffee from my thermal bottle.  Most of it's still in there.  In fact, I think I have enough to tide me over through work today/Tuesday.  It'll be lukewarm, but heck, if it's going to be as busy in The Third Department today as it was yesterday, it'll be more than enough.

Gotta Get This Off My Chest

So my day started with me spilling coffee on myself.  I was reaching out for both the cup and a danish I ordered through drive-thru, and I hit my hand holding the danish against the steering wheel, and either it hit my hand holding the coffee or I just jumped, and the damn thing spilled all over my hand and onto my jeans.

Then, just now -- and this really pisses me off even though I know this will sound ludicrous to you all -- I missed the very beginning of It's A Wonderful Life on NBC/Channel 11.  Like, the very, very beginning ... meaning the NBC buster introducing the first title of the actual movie.  What really pisses me off is that I really wanted to see the intro to the intro (probably the ding-dong-ding of the NBC jingle with the logo flashing on my TV, but I don't really know, because I missed it), and I set it up so that I had The Yule Log playing on Channel 5.2, but just at 7 I would flip it to Channel 11.1 to see the very, very start.  What I forgot was that I had mistakenly gone from 11.1 to Channel 5.1 because I fuckin' fat-fingered on the remote control.  I changed it to 5.2, but forgot that I was at 5.1, however, so when the commercial ended and I knew it was 7 o'clock, I flipped on the remote thinking I was going from 5.2 to 11.1 when in fact I went from 5.2 to 5.1.  I saw a commercial for Disney, and that made me think I was on ABC, and goddammit, I was, because I went to 5.1/ABC/Channel 5.  By the time I realized my mistake and hit the buttons for 11.1, I saw the Republic Pictures title card.  And I missed what I wanted to see.

And now writing all that makes me feel stupid for even caring about something so trivial.  But hey, this only comes around once a year.  Is Tivo still a thing?  Is there a device that allows me to rewind live TV?  If it's not Tivo, is it something else?  Because shit, man, I really could use that right now.

OK, stupid/weird rant over.

Fuckin' Janitors Tossed My Liquids

The cleaning crew at work threw away my coffee creamers and the bottles of apple and grape juice I hadn't finished yet.  There are two refrigerators, and pretty much every other week (although not next week because of the holidays) they're supposed to clean one of them, and they will clean out and throw away anything in the fridge they're cleaning.  I think I lost bottles of creamer once, and about a half-hour after they threw away the sub I just put in a fridge this one time, I frantically asked the janitors if I could have it back.  (I found it, still completely wrapped up, IIRC.  And yes, I ate it.  I paid for it!)

This ... well, this one came as a blindside.  The janitors are supposed to put up a sign in front of the fridge that is supposed to be cleaned out Monday evening the week prior.  Because of that bad memory, I know I always am diligent to move my creamers out of the fridge that will be cleaned and put it in the other one.  But like I said, they don't alternate cleaning every week, and I fucking swear to God that I didn't see a sign last week.  Now, I took Thursday off, and Friday was that shitty day where I got hit with an avalanche of work in The Fourth Department (BTW, it still hasn't abated, and it won't for a while) and then I had to get to the Timberwolves Game, and I didn't work Monday (I blog posted about my off-on schedule here) because I was working the Vikings Game.  I was venting with my supervisor and co-workers late yesterday/Tuesday afternoon about this, and they speculated that the cleaners put up the sign later in the week, like Thursday, and that's why I missed it.  If so, goddammit, that's their fault because they need to give all of us a week's notice.  Shit!

I had three bottles of creamer.  One of them was brand new.  Didn't even open the fucking bottle yet.  And yes, I had two bottles of juice I hadn't completely drank.  But fuckin' A, they were mine.  Those two bottles of juice and three bottles of creamer cost (granted, I think one was nearly empty and one was half-empty) ... oh, $20, $25?  Again, that amount is not like a mortgage, and I drank through a lot of creamer and apple and grape juice up to Monday, and obviously I can't do anything about it now.  But I can't help but look at it in terms of money, and that's money that was fucking taken away from me.  And I think -- no, I'm not 100% certain -- that I got royally fucked because no one put up a notice when they were supposed to.

The thing is, I didn't realize this until the middle of work yesterday, when I had to break away from my desk because the avalanche of work in The Fourth Department kept rolling down on my head.  And that might allude to why I didn't move my stuff (assuming I was given ample warning, which I don't think I got): I was too distracted by other things this time around to notice.  Beyond that, I didn't have time during the rest of my day once I realized I lost my shit to lose my shit because I had work to do.  It's only when I'm dwelling on what I lost -- for example, as I'm writing this -- that I'm pissed off.  For most of the rest of the day, at least until I vented to my supervisor and colleagues, I wasn't pissed because I had other things I had to concentrate on.

And so delving into work, like I will have to do today, might be a good thing because it takes my attention away from being pissed off at the fucking janitors.  I have half a mind to confront them next Monday evening for "stealing" my stuff.  But if I plunge into my work -- and I left yesterday/Tuesday, like Friday, with a ton of work to do even after I gave myself two extra hours at work -- I won't have time to get mad, and therefore I won't do something reckless and futile.  It's the best I can do.

In the meantime, I have to go to Target after work this/Wednesday evening and buy more creamer.

This Weekend, It'll Just Be Me And Him

Mother's going on a girls-only road trip this weekend.  This, I think, is her third one.  I'm glad that this time, she actually told me beforehand.  And I'm also glad, although I was surprised when Father told me she was spending those two weekends away, that she has girlfriends with whom she can go on road trips.

So that leaves Father and me this weekend.  That will be strange as all get out.  I really think that without Mother as a buffer, he will feel free to lecture me around the dinner table about cleaning my room and going back to school.  It's been a while since he hectored me about that, but anticipating the worst this weekend, I might react to it, uh, not well, let's just say.

I wanted to take the heat off leading into this weekend by doing things that make it look as though I am being a productive member of this household.  Namely, I had intentions this week of cleaning up my room.  But instead, I had a movie I wanted to go to Monday (I told my folks I was going to work out), on Tuesday I had to visit my alumni bar downtown, and Wednesday and last/Thursday night I just fell asleep after dinner.  And I had plans on exercising for real at least one of those days.  So, those best laid plans are ruined, and I have invited My Father to call me on the carpet for doing nothing around the house.

And yet, beyond all that, I am now worried about Father's health.  There is nothing telling me he is sick or going to hurt himself.  But I have never worried about him because he is never alone.  Seriously, I cannot remember my parents being apart for more than a weekend, such as this weekend.  But I go to work today, and tomorrow/Saturday I have that Game-watching event, and then I plan on working on my receipts while hanging out at a coffeeshop after that Game.  Meanwhile, he will be all alone, and while I am worried about his old age, I am also kind of scared he'll get bored out of his mind.  Then again, like I alluded to above, I don't know if I can stand being alone with him, either.

Mother comes back Sunday.  I hope it's closer to the morning than the evening.  But she doesn't even know the city the hotel she's staying in is located.  I will hope Father remains in good spirits while she is gone.  I will also hope I don't kill him.

Just sent four e-mails to four separate groups of alumni.  I am coordinating a group sale of tickets to our alma mater's football Game against the Golden Gophers here in October.  I may have gone above and beyond -- and possibly completely unnecessary -- by listing out, by section and by row, the number of seats available to be bought.  Some of the groups in my group sale want to sit together, and so I spent ... oh, somewhat less than an hour looking through sections and seeing how many seats are still open.  Have no idea if these guys are going to even use the information.  The e-mails are so long that I can't ensure they're going to read them.

I didn't think I would do these e-mails (four of them in total) until I decided it was the right thing to do in the evening at the community center, where I worked out for the first time in a month.  I was ready to eat healthy and give my stomach a break tonight.  But I needed something to keep me going through all the looking and listing and e-mailing, so I broke ate several Chips Ahoy! cookies which I washed down with the coffee left over from work.  Yes, I think I undid my exercise.  Oh, well.

Car Might Be Getting Worse

The buzzing under my hood when I accelerate got a little more noticeable and a little more frequent as I drove home last/Wednesday night from Brit's where I watched Colombia defeat Uruguay in the Copa America Semifinal.  And I'm telling you, I am freaked out as fuck over it.  This came when I heard that buzzing noise when I made a quick right on my way to Speedway to get coffee before work in the morning.  However, that was after a couple days where I didn't hear it at all.

I want to make it twelve more days, but I'm in such a panic right now, right this very minute, that I don't know if the car, or I, can make it.  I might make an appointment next week.  Depends on if the rattling comes back when I drive to work in the morning.

Man, I need to drive.  The ability to go where I want, when I want is something I cherish.  But ever since the car I drove for the first time, a red Jeep, overheated the first time, I have paradoxically been scared to drive.  That anxiety, that fear, that hasn't ever gone away.  So either I am overreacting to this ... or I should be more concerned about this problem than I am.

I Can Do Better Than This (Four Assholes At Work)

So I move around departments I'm trained in.  I consider only four of them.  But there are a bunch of other departments that I see.  Most of them I don't know.  And after yesterday/Wednesday, thank God I fucking don't.

I don't know what the fuck happened, but these other dopes who work in other parts of the building were just a bunch of revolting cocksuckers.  There was the chump who was lined up to get coffee, got out of line and then, after the person ahead of him got his or her coffee, fucking cut in front of me to get his coffee.  There was the asshole who thought he was funny when he said, "Don't cut yourself," like it was his fucking business that I stupidly cut my finger last week.  This shit-fuck think he's funny?  The person who processes is always an ass, and this one's no different, invading my space to get the opened packages because she thought I was too slow.  And then there was this moppy-headed incel at the end of my day, hitting his ass on the chair and then angrily moving it around to get into the best position to eat his ramen.  He sounded like he wanted to watch the TV even though I was watching the end of the Euros and holding the remote.  So, like an adult, I offered him the remote, and without looking at me -- nice passive-aggressive touch, boy! -- he sternly shook his head like a scared and hungry child.

So there's that saying in the TV show Justified: "If you run into an asshole in the morning, you run into an asshole in the morning.  If you run into assholes all day, you're the asshole."  No.  Nuh-uh.  I ran into assholes all day.  Don't fucking know why, but I was surrounding by a bunch of dead-end, basic bitches who took out their frustrations and limitations on me for some goddamn reason.  To hell with these dumbasses.  The only reason I'm not filled with anger and anxiety (although my body hurts because my heart's beating a mile a minute) is that they're not really my co-workers.  One of the places I have to see these pricks I go to only once a week.  Otherwise I hope to God I don't see them in the hallway or the breakroom.  This is not like having run-ins with my boss like I've had in the past, or my true co-workers, most of whom I can deal with.  I see and have to work with those people every day, so if I got a problem with them, that affects my work environment and thus my work.

These shitheels?  Dirt off my shoulder.  Well, I'm trying to wipe them off.  But it's not defeat to leave this situation, you know?.  I mean, do I really "win" if I stick around and start talking back to these rude no-hopers?  Maybe there are higher classes of people at a different workplace.  And maybe it would behoove me to look somewhere else.  Maybe I can do better than this, and maybe bad days like yesterday are the impetus for me to finally find out if the grass is really greener on the other side.

Bruised Bananas

These days, Father packs two items for me to eat at work: A banana and something Mother made for which I need to heat up.  Never mind that I have never needed to brownbag a lunch for work; that ship has sailed.  On top of that, I don't have time to eat them.  The lunch break they think I would use to eat I instead use to sleep.  The morning break I use to get coffee and, if necessary, have a bowel movement.

So it's the afternoon break where I may get around to heating up the thing Mother made for me.  That's all I have time for.  I had in the past just brought the banana home with me and took it back with me to work the next day.  These days, however, I have eaten the banana as the late-night snack.  I usually have hunger pangs after dinner, but I want to substitute something better for me than the chips I can eat.

But since my parents have gotten home, Father as bought and given me bananas that are severely bruised.  I go to the kitchen to eat the banana.  Once I peel the skin, I see these ridiculously battered bananas that usually have massive black spots.  I don't know if they're edible or not, but I refuse to eat those parts, so I take a knife and carve them out.  Sometimes that leaves me with half a banana, but that at least looks like a banana.  I am guessing my folks are getting these past-ripe bananas on sale and want to buy them in bulk.  And that is why I'm afraid I'll have to keep inspecting every single banana given to me for bruise spots from now on.

Thought I Could Take It Easy The Rest Of The Week. Nuh-Uh

I work in The Main Department today/Thursday and tomorrow/Friday, which means I usually don't have the time to stop for coffee before coming in, which incentivizes me not to spend any money on that day because I really should start having no-spend days.

These two days were supposed to those no-spend days, days in which I head straight to work and then, once my shift is over, I head straight home, lock the door, and figure out what the hell am I going to eat that night.  But that isn't happening because things came up last week.

Tonight/Thursday night, I am going to First Avenue for a concert sponsored by, all of organizations, MNUFC, for which I am a season-ticketholder.  I don't know either musical act, but this is a concert at First Ave. that is mainly for one particular demographic only -- fellow STH'ers.  Plus, the ticket was just over twelve bucks.

Also last week, a person with whom I ushered invited me to a Friday fish fry in south Minneapolis.  At first I wanted to stay away.  This feast is associated with Lent, and I am not a part of any Western faith.  But then I read this article about how these fish fries is another unique thing for us Minnesotans that people from other parts of the country might scoff or even ridicule.  Once I learned that restaurants and churches and even VFWs have these Friday fish fries, I was intrigued and wanted to see what it is like.

So I texted this usher friend and said I changed my mind and I really would like to see what is up with this peculiar tradition.  Unfortunately, tomorrow/Friday probably is the only Friday I have free until Easter.  So, I am going to get back on the road today/Thursday after coming home from work (and maybe taking a nap once I got home) to eat lots and lots of fish at a church.

Eh.  Could be worse.

(Edited Leap Day at 4:24 p.m. because I was so damn tired when I wrote the last two sentences before going to bed last/Wednesday night that what I typed doesn't make any damn sense, so I am going to end the blog post like this below:)

So, instead of probably boxing up my things and throwing them back in storage, I will be having fun and spending money.  That's great ... until I realize I'm bleeding money and I still don't know when my parents are coming home.

Fuck it -- I'm having fun!

Vehicles, Man

So my anxiety level has gone up and down the past 24 hours.  It was real high when I woke up yesterday/Saturday afternoon because I had to return the rental, but I woke up early enough that I could both get my face shaved and go to Target after filling up the gas tank on the rental, then returning it.

The next thing was the big thing: Seeing if the minivan still works to my satisfaction.  Last time I used it was Wednesday, when, after dealing with the door ajar indicator light and body lights coming on on my way home from work, I opened the power side door and got extremely desperate trying to get it to completely close.  It didn't look as if the door was open from my vantage point of the front bay window.  But as soon as I hopped into the car, and shut the driver's-side door, the door ajar indicator light was on.  And when I turned on the car (and it turned on just fine), the "POWER DOOR" indicator light came on.  I'm shocked that there were no lights that burned out the battery between Wednesday and yesterday/Saturday afternoon.  Thankfully, it took only one try for the power slide door to open and then fully shut by itself.  The less cold temperature plus the sun probably had something to do with getting it to shut immediately and for good.

I'm paranoid about looking at the thermostat for the minivan, and my eyes darted to it about every five seconds.  But honestly, it was as smooth a ride this beaten down, quarter-century-old work van can be.  I drove it to my storage place and then to Chipotle to pick up lunch, and it didn't overheat whatsoever.  And the doors stayed locked ... well, until I drove into Chipotle.  For all I know that damn door ajar light will come on no matter the temperature, but so long as I can drive the car (and I can lock the doors once it's parked), I'm not sure the doors unlocking themselves is a huge enough deal to worry about.

---

Finally, it was time for me last/Saturday night to reserve a car for tomorrow/Monday through Wednesday.  I marveled at how cheap it was for a two-day rental -- only $82! -- but I didn't reserve because I didn't quite know how I felt about the minivan.  It drove fine, but in the end, I wanted the sensation, and security, of a new car until (hopefully) my car is returned to me.

It dawned on me when I went back on to the car rental that there is no guarantee that the price that I saw would be the same when I finally reserved.  And goddammit, they weren't the same -- they went up, dramatically, like an extra 85%.  If I reserved when I saw the prices (and I should have because I could cancel at any time), I would have had to pay only, I think, $82, a savings of about 27% of the price I paid for the rental last week.

After beating myself up for reserving too late, I thought about whether or not I should reserve it at all.  After all, the minivan works, and I still don't know exactly how much that fucking repair job is going to cost me.  I should save all the money I can now.  But ... in the end, I still can't quite trust that the minivan won't crap out on me on my way to or from work.  Also, more than saving up money, I wanted to feel, yet again, like I can drive without a care in the world, and so I need, or "need," to rent a car Monday through Wednesday just to feel normal again ... and to go to the Timberwolves Game (friend got me a ticket) and, probably, to go out for coffee Tuesday night, even though I would've planned to stay home if I didn't rent a car.  Finally, I found a way to defray the cost of renting it: The points I have saved up on my credit card.  I don't think I have ever tapped those points to redeem something, but I am going to use them this billing cycle ostensibly to pay for most of the rental.  That's the way I can justify renting a car again when the minivan probably will get me everywhere I need to go.

Mental note: As soon as I find a price for a rental care you like, I should reserve it.

Forever Behind On Balancing My Checkbook

I have a day planner, still.  In the pouch of the front cover, I put in all the ATM receipts I get, withdrawals and deposits, out of my personal account.  I keep them there because, I promise myself, I will mark them down in my register.

I vow that even though I haven't balanced my checkbook in ... well, the last time I did it, I was in St. Louis, specifically at a 24-hour coffeeshop.  I was already way, way, way behind in marking up my register, to the point where I felt I needed to a vacation -- to physically leave Minnesota -- in order to have the headspace and devote the time to finally get down to the business of catching up on my balancing.  And it was stupid difficult.  I had mounds of ATM slips that piled up.  Some of them were so old that the ink had already faded out the dates and amounts.  Moreover, I threw in so many registers that it took a little bit of time to figure out in what chronological order the registers should be in.  I think I got myself situated to the point where I could finally grab the oldest ATM slip, write it down in the register I should have been using at that point, and keep going until either I ran out of registers or my hand gave out.  I think the former happened, but I'm glad I did as much as I could because I was at the coffeeshop until dawn started to break.

That is not to say, however, that I got caught up.  No way in hell was I caught up.  I had months and possibly a couple years that I had to do when I stopped.  And that late night/morning in St. Louis was at least six years ago.  I do not believe I have not touched the plastic bag in which I threw all those ATM slips and registers since that day.  I haven't really added onto it until, well, just now, when I finally got around to taking out all the ATM slips I piled into the front pouch of my Franklin Quest and slid it in the back of the pile of slips already in the plastic bag, and hopefully in chronological order.

The earliest slip from the pouch was from 2020.  So yeah, I am at least half a decade behind in balancing my checkbook.  The damn bag is bursting at the seams.  And there is no way in heck that I will have an accurate running total by the time I get done -- if I ever get done.  I think I remember one time when I had fully caught up from months and months of being behind where the running total I wound up with on the register was totally off from the current amount in my checking account and I said to heck with it, made up the difference, and wrote down something to the effect of, "Discrepancy" or something.

I know I will have to do it again, if only to make up for all the direct deposits for which I don't have an ATM receipt.  With it being almost definitely inaccurate after years and years of neglect, does it make sense to even start?  And by Buddha, I still say to myself, Yes, I will get around to it.  That's why I still have that plastic bag ... which, after I added all the latest ATM slips, I rested back on my desk, where it will probably stay, undisturbed, for a long, long time.

No, Vegan Dumbass, That's Not What You Just Said

I hate that rude interactions bother me so much.  But I went to Glam Doll Donuts today and corrected the guy at the cash register who was ringing up my order.  I asked for three donuts.  He was talking out loud and pressing the buttons for the donuts he believed I ordered.  He got one wrong; he said "Sweetheart" when I ordered the "Coffee Cake."

"Actually," I said, "it is the Coffee Cake, Ginger Betty and Fall On Me."

"That's what I just said," he mumbled under his breath.

Excuse me, asshole?  That just bothers the fuck out of me.  And then, once I was done, he shoved a cup of coffee in front of me even though I didn't ask for one.  Then I realized the guy behind me asked for the cup of coffee.  Hey, maybe wait till I'm fucking done and out of the way before you shove a cup of coffee in front of me, yeah?

And after I left, I think that motherfucker overcharged me.  Donuts are expensive at Glam Doll, so I didn't really think it was that obscene.  But then I thought about it and I think it's a buck or two over what it should be.  Whether that asshole was trying to rip me off or if he is as incompetent as he is rude, I don't know.

I have to remind myself that this is just him.  The person who bagged the donuts for me was real nice -- said goodbye to me as I was out the door and everything.  I don't know if I'm going back to Glam Doll anytime soon, so I won't have to see that piece of shit again for a while, if ever.  And once I take in my whole relationship to this place (which has taken somewhat of a beating on social media, which I don't quite understand), I have to remember that they have often given me free donuts in the past.  Even if this prick overcharged me in this case, I have gotten way more for free.

This dude had a "I (heart; don't know the character code for a heart_) PLANTS" black t-shirt.  Maybe if he ate some animal flesh he'd be nicer.  Or be able to do basic math.

Customer Service Sucks And I Don't Mind Saying So

Man, I think I'm entitled to basic manners like eye contact and saying goodbye.  And yet last week while working the Twins Game I was telling the press box concession lazyass he's run out of coffee lids and he tells me he already told his supervisors about it while scrolling through his phone, probably looking at TikTok while on the clock.  And just now, when I made an appointment for my check-up (which is fucking December, for crissake), she confirms the appointment, I say thank you, and she just hangs up.

I don't think I'm an entitled douchebag to expect decency when it comes to customer service, or any interaction between strangers.  Is that so difficult?  And I really don't get people who don't care about customer service, who think just getting what you want matters.  How transactional of a prick are you to think like that?  Does being kind mean nothing to you?  Am I the asshole for wanting that?

The Food I Eat And The Weight I Gain

I complain to exhaustion -- privately, possibly incorrectly -- that the weight I have packed on my belly is because my parents keep feeding me food.  Well, if they're gone, that means there is no pressure to eat the food they give me.  So I should be able to finally get my weight under control and maybe even start losing weight, something I have desperately wanted to do.  Right?

Well, about that. ...  Like I have said many times before here on WAF, I have come to accept that when I am free of being given food by my parents, I instead go out and eat as much fast food and fancy food as my heart can devour.  I did it last/Monday night.  I was going to eat in, but dammit, it was National Cheeseburger Day.  Well, I have to celebrate National Cheeseburger Day!  Both McDonald's and Burger King had specials for their cheeseburgers; the former was selling them for only 50 cents, the latter was giving them away for free if you purchase something else for at least a buck.  So I went to Mickey D's to eat a cheeseburger and cookies for dessert (I was so busy at work that I had more than half of my coffee left to drink.  Pairing that with cookies was a no-brainer.)  I then went through the drive-thru after I put in my mobile order for BK (using the Wi-fi at Mickey D's), for a cheeseburger and a new wrap that they had.  I ate the two cheeseburgers, that wrap and, later, the cookies and the rest of my coffee, no problem.  Whether I needed to ... well, probably not.  After not having anything for breakfast and eating the last of the bananas that my parents left for me as an afternoon snack, I wasn't really starving.  I think I packed on the pounds today.

My folks have been gone a week, and it's possible, even likely, that I'm eating more now that they're gone.  A lot of it is on me.  For example, I went through with my plan to order a large pizza from Pizza Hut and eat it while watching football.  I ate the whole thing.  Frankly, I have eaten whole pizzas in the past, and I wanted to see if I could still do it.  Well -- I still got it!

I know eating all this stuff can't continue.  But -- and I am not using this as an excuse -- my parents have left a lot of food for me.  The more aggravating part of this is all the perishable stuff that I feel compelled to consume now, even though I don't want to.  I talked about the banana I took with me to work yesterday/Monday.  Well, they left four of them for me.  I like bananas, but not enough to eat them daily, and the skin was browning real quick.  So I ate one on Friday (or was it Saturday?), and I threw in the other two to make a smoothie I hadn't planned on making until I found time to work out.  That meant buying the other ingredients, like yogurt and frozen fruit.  On the other hand, another ingredient is milk, and my folks left a lot of whole milk for me to drink.  Unfortunately, even when pouring as much milk as I could into the blender without overfilling it, I still have a lot left.  And since I'm now totally convinced I'm lactose intolerant, I don't know when or even if I can finish the milk.  Meanwhile, that gallon of milk is sitting diagonally from the blender of the smoothie, two-thirds of which I have yet to go through.  And the frozen fruit is chilling in the freezer.

Oh yeah ... like they have done the last few times they've wintered in Las Vegas, my folks have prepared a lot of stuff they have frozen for me to eat over the intervening months.  This time they went all out.  There are ribs and beef and pork.  And this time around they've also froze for me fried rice and mashed potatoes and spaghetti sauce whenever I want to cook pasta to go with it.  I am grateful that they cared enough to leave food for me.  But I'm not sure they understand how much of a compulsion it is for me to eat out on my own.  That is a problem if they come back half a year from now and see any, and I mean any, food they left for me still in the freezer.  When they came back in the spring, they had a cow that I hadn't eaten a box of friggin' Hot Pockets they bought, presumably for me, on sale.  Their conniption fit was somewhat humorous, and somewhat not.  I don't think it matters; as long as it's frozen, it's edible, so why would they be so upset if they came back in the spring to see food still left over?  They can take it out, thaw it, and serve it for dinner that all three of can enjoy!

I may be going off on a tangent here.  All that food doesn't have a lot to do with the thrust of this blog post, which is me gaining weight eating food even though my parents aren't here.  But note that there is a lot of food, and I might be complaining some time during the winter of all the food that's still in the freezer because I chose to buy the food I chose to get fat on.