I was afraid The Third Department was going to be hell since one of my co-workers was taking the rest of the week off, and it was.  Goddamn, I didn't leave last/Thursday night until 7:15 -- that's a 10:45 day.  I'm glad I got to the pizza place (in a gas station very close by me) before they closed.  But it might be just as bad today/Friday because there are a half-dozen tests coming in.  There were only supposed to be two yesterday/Thursday but that became six, goddammit.

Since I got home much later than I was hoping, all the things I thought I wanted to do I just didn't do -- not just because I got home so late, but also because I was so tired.  At least I have enough energy to blog post this complaint.

I've Given Up And Am Going Out A Lot This Week ... Again

So I've bitched often (though not in the past week like I thought) about "needing" to go out too many evenings in the week.  Man, sometimes I just want to go home from work and fucking stay there.

I was trying to reach some equilibrium with that this week, especially since it's a holiday weekend and you're supposed to just veg out.  But I had to chuck that all out the window.  First it's because of my cousin and her son.  She said that Friday might work, but that's The Official Start Of Summer, and I had plans to go to my speakeasy and ease into this Endless Summer by drinking.  Saturday could work, too, but United FC has a Match in the afternoon, I wanted to relax with pizza and a beer afterwards, and there is the possibility of the English Championship Play-Up Match that morning (I say possibility because as I type this, there is a hearing to determine whether Southampton, one of the teams playing, should be kicked out for spying on Middlesbrough, the club it beat more than a week ago to reach the Final).  Sunday and Monday are a lot freer, but I was hoping to fuck ****e one of those days and stay in the other, and I want to do both so badly that I consider seeing my cousin one of those days, as convenient that it might be, a frustrating spanner in the works.  I don't want to say I would rather not see my cousin, but ...

I'm getting over myself.  For one thing, all this soccer watching is still up in the air; Sunday, for example, is Decision Day in the EPL.  If Tottenham Hotspur is still in jeopardy of being relegated, I'm going out to watch it at a pub that morning, and in that case I probably won't have any time to myself at home this weekend.  Still, I'm looking for some solace, and I have to look to the workweek for that, too.  My plan during the workweek was to go out last/Monday night because I had a gas coupon that was going to expire, so I might as well work on my receipts and eat out.  Tonight/Tuesday night and tomorrow/Wednesday night I would stay in, finally.  Thursday I would, for the first time ever, go out to the State Fair, which now opens for Memorial Weekend.  Then Friday's the speakeasy.

That was all shot to hell when I came home from work last/Monday night.  Taped onto my screen door was a notice from the city.  They're doing something with the main sewer line tomorrow/Wednesday.  Between 8 in the morning and 8 in the evening, I am not supposed to use any water at all in the house.  Well, fuck.  I might as well not go home after work.  So, what to do?  How about go to the speakeasy then?  I don't want to "celebrate" summer two days early, but frankly, it makes a lot of sense to just do this tomorrow/Wednesday night.  Not only would I give the city time to not mess up the house's sewer system, going out (instead of staying in) tomorrow/Wednesday night frees up Friday night for me to hang with my cousin and cousin once removed.  Looking at it that way, a lot of problems get solved.

So I'm being a social butterfly again.  Yippee ... ?

(Aside: I am working the early shift at work today/Tuesday.  I should be in bed instead of blog posting this.  Anyway, if I get done with work early, well, it would theoretically allow me to go exercise at a decent hour in the evening.  Yeah, golly, I can do that.  But on that announcement by the city, I am supposed to pour water down all my drains in anticipation of this sewer line cut tomorrow/Wednesday.  It may not take up a whole lot of time, but if I'm doing that, I might as well do other chores ... like go through my stuff, finally.  Yeah, I need to get in shape, but if I really want to go home -- well, I should just do this, huh?  Might as well salvage one night to do nothing.)

My Sister The Proxy

So I told Mother that I got my passport book and card two and three weeks (respectively) after I applied online, and she asked for my help to coach her through the online application process for her and Father at a day I had time to help her with it.  I told her on Sunday that I could help her Monday evening.

Now, I've told all of you how much of a mental and emotional drain being on the phone with My Mother can be.  I think that planning a long phone call ahead of time, like it obviously was going to be when dealing with an online passport renewal application over the phone and not while I'm sitting next to her, helps remind me that I need to be patient.  What I didn't know, however, was that my sister just so happened to be visiting my parents in Las Vegas for a few days.  Awesome!  She basically became my on-site translator and extra set of hands!!  So sis, can you do the application process for the 'Rents ... and ooh, by the way, can you help me install a new modem and router in their condo, too?

This problem of theirs goes back at least a year.  Mother complains of dead spots, namely their dining room table, which is at the opposite end of the part of their condo where their old, slow, obsolete modem resides.  It needed a new one, I suspected, and then it needed something to boost its range and help the signal break through the condo's walls.  But I wasn't planning on going out there anytime soon, not as long as this Republican administration has the gall to snatch up anyone at the airport they decided they don't like, so I figured my folks would have to just suck it up.  My sister being there, however, changes everything.  I could tell her what the problem is and how to fix it.  So once I decided she could do this (and my sis made the online application process for both Mother and Father go so smoothly), I spent the rest of the night looking up the best modem and router to buy at an electronics store and bought them, then I texted her all the information for the three of them to pick up, bring home, and set up so Mother can finally stop bitching about their shitty wi-fi.

That part did not go smoothly.  First of all, the modem I bought for them has to be hooked up with a coaxial cable.  I thought every place had a coax, but apparently this condo only connects to the Internet outside via Ethernet.  My sister tried to see if the modem would work just hooked up through Ethernet, but she told me (on the phone Tuesday night while I was at the Timberwolves Game) that it didn't.  Also, the router I got for them was just one unit of those "meshes" or "pods" or whatever you call it.  I thought one would be enough.  I thought that if I bought them a second (which, presumably, would be placed as far away as the first "mesh" or "pod," which has to be connected to the modem, in order to maximize the range), they would complain that, like, "It looks bad," or something.  My folks can be that shallow.  Well, Mother complained (after my sis attached this new router to the old modem, which she had a bit of trouble reconnecting) that there still wasn't any range.

My sister was leaving Thursday, and there was no way my parents would even dare try hooking up this second router, so my sister got my brother to buy that second router, which could be delivered the next day (which was Wednesday) because he has Amazon Prime.  (This is where I expand the universe of this blog post by reminding you that after I got home from the Game, I saw that my thermostat didn't work and, ironically, decided to accept a free trial of Amazon Prime in order to buy the same brand of thermostat so that I didn't have to do any wire work to put in a different brand of thermostat, and get it delivered as soon as possible ... even though I put in a second different set of batteries which made the old thermostat finally work.)  My sister got this second router, she installed it Wednesday, and it ... well, I haven't asked Mother yet if the range is better.

All through this ordeal, I profusely thanked my sister for doing this favor -- for our Mother, because our Mother wanted it, but frankly, for me, too.  I don't think she had running to Best Buy and spending a good chunk of one afternoon installing new wi-fi as part of her plans while visiting my parents.  I recognize that I ask ... no, use my sister a lot when I want something done.  Most notably, when I feel like I can't talk to my brother about something I need him to know, I tell my sister and she tells him.  We were in Hong Kong for Grandmother's funeral several years ago, and we were not on speaking terms then, so we asked our sis to relay any messages we needed the other to know.  She recognized that; the night after the funeral service, when I took her to this bar I wanted to go to because I needed a drink, she told me she knows what both of us are asking her to do in order to keep the peace between us.  And she almost broke down crying.  The gravity of burying Grandmother had something to do with it, of course, but being the peacemaker brings its own anguish, and that is something we make her do.

She acted as if she didn't mind putting in a new modem and router, even though she had no previous experience.  Still, besides thanking her a lot for being my proxy, I wonder if there's something else I could do for her ... or does she have a favor I'll have to pay her in kind.  Either way, that's an obligation I should do for her.  She did this for me, after all.

And Another Snow Day!!!

This is more than ridiculous; this is fucking absurd.  Either this is one fucking monstrous snowstorm or Southerners really don't know how to deal with snow and ice, because when I woke up and checked my texts, my boss said there wasn't a shipment again this morning.  Third day in a row.  We've never had two days of no work, let alone three.  So, another snow day!!!

Not to complain too much, but you really can't enjoy a surprise day off if you have to wake up assuming you don't have the day off.  Compounding that annoyance is that today, because I was scheduled to go in and cut packages open, I had to wake up early.  Then, once I saw that someone was going to go in to work and do everything for the rest of us, I tried to go back to sleep but couldn't.  (This despite having only, at most, 90 minutes of shuteye overnight.)

Unlike yesterday, today I had planned on going out: There's a volunteer event my financial planner is putting on very close to my house.  And since he's treating everyone to dinner afterward, hell yeah, I'm going.  And since I am taking the car out today, I might as well go to the Walker today and use that offer to see the museum for free after buying a ticket to the Arrows.  I had planned on going Saturday, but the chances are now very good that I will be working that day, so I switched plans and went just today.

You know, I know I'm not enjoying these surprise days off as much as I should because one day, this will all be over and we will have to go back to work.  Something good will be taken from me, and anticipating that will happen makes me very, very sad.  But that day wasn't today.  And, to be fair, I really thought that it would be yesterday and it wasn't.  So I'm riding on free money.

The one thing I'm lacking right now is sleep.  I have to end this blog post now in order to try and get a nap in before I go to this volunteer event.

Addendum To: On Money -- When I Spend It And When I Complain About Spending It

OK, so this is what I did on Sunday.

I was still feeling the pull of the Megamall.  Moreover, I was feeling the pull of Grand Casino Arena, which was staging both Semifinals of the World Juniors.  I stay pretty late after Vikings Games to make sure the traffic thins out, but I could move it up and still leave without getting stuck.  So I formulated a plan to go down to the Mall Of America, buy some stuff at the pop-up store, eat at Popeye's (I had this digital coupon of three tenders for a buck), then drive to downtown St. Paul.  If I could find parking close enough to the arena (parking meters aren't enforced in St. Paul on Sundays, so yay for me), I would park, buy a ticket, then see the second Semi at 7:30.

That last bit was buoyed in part by the prices I saw at scalper sites.  I checked after Friday night's Quarterfinals, which included the United States losing to Finland in Overtime.  I thought the prices would crater because the host U. S. was no longer in it, but prices were too high for me to entertain.  In fact, I think StubHub told me there were no tickets to sell.  But I checked again Saturday, and not only were there many tickets, prices were falling like a stone.  SeatGeek's cheapest ticket Friday night was $93; it became about $50 Saturday, and while at work, I checked again and it fell to $39.  That's it, man; even though I was tired as hell and I would be driving all around the Twin Cities, I decided to do all this.

Well, first of all, me eating so much after the Game that I had to shit really bad threw the Popeye's deal out the window.  I felt this push out of my asshole while I was driving down to MOA, and if you know that feeling, it feels like you're about to fucking shit your pants so bad everyone will see and point at you and laugh.  Scariest feeling in the world, am I right?

But I made it to the public men's room next to the doors at MOA, aka the last place I would want to evacuate my bowels, but of course, I had no choice.  This diarrhea attack made me second-guess if I should even try and go to the Game.  Good thing, then, that I didn't plan on buying a ticket unless I found a space to park in St. Paul.

Systems back to normal, I went to the pop-up.  That orange quarter-zip that probably was going to be the thing I buy?  Well, it went from one or two of those to six or seven.  Unfortunately, the only sizes available were small and extra-large.  This was something I saw with several popular items while I was browsing for World Juniors clothing.  I couldn't buy that, and nothing else there interested me.  So I didn't buy anything there, like I thought I would.  Yeah, it was kind of a waste driving down there.  But I had to know.

Didn't feel the urge to crap after that excretory meltdown when I cashed in the winning Powerball tickets I bought (oh yeah, I did that, too) on my way out to the car, so I felt good going to the arena.  And maybe I shouldn't be surprised considering the half-empty crowds at Mariucci Arena for group and Quarterfinal Games, but I found a spot easy-peasy.  And so I turned off the car, leaned my seat back, and looked at SeatGeek and StubHub for a ticket to that 7:30 Game.  And I was surprised, and disappointed, that somehow prices for that Game went back up.  It can't be demand; these scalper sites are running fucking algorithms to maximize prices.  Makes me so goddamn frustrated.  But hey, I got there, and I wanted to go, so I bought a ticket for Canada-Czechia for, hrmph, $50.

By the way, great Game.  Back and forth, but the Czechs got the upset (even though this is the third straight year the country eliminated the Canadians), 6-4.  (That Semifinal, by the way, was delayed from its scheduled start because the first Semi went past Overtime into a Shootout, where Sweden slipped past Finland, 4-3.)  I'm glad I went, and this is the World Juniors, so maybe I shouldn't bitch so much over the price of the ticket.  Anyway, I had plenty of time to check out the merchandise tables at the "Gicka."  You remember my obsession/fear about "exclusivity," buying items that I could only find at Mariucci or the pop-up store at the Mall Of America?  Well, that OCD blew up in my face.  That hoodie with the huge 2026 IIHF World Juniors logo right on the front that I bought at Mariucci?  Saw it there.  And I also saw the Paul Bunyan & Babe t-shirts I also bought at Mariucci, as well as the first pair of t-shirts I bought, the ones that had the flags on the hockey blades on the front I bought at the pop-up.  Oh, and the pin, too.

So, when it comes to buying things that appeared to be at only one place, I got the scarf that I bought down at MOA and the winter hat with the logo on a plate stitched on it at Mariucci.  All the other stuff I bought I could've bought at any of the three places.  And the scarf and hat, for all I know, were being sold at the other two places before they sold out.  I'll rest in the peace of my ignorance.  But I think I could've been more judicious about what I would've bought if I could've went to Grand Casino Arena for that Sunday group stage Game if not for the snowstorm that blew in that day.  I think I would've gone up to the merch tables, realize that most if not all the items were the same as that at Mariucci, realize that some of the things I saw down at the Megamall I didn't see there (and vice versa), and purchased accordingly.  But now I have a lot of things that, right now, I'm not cool with (see Title of blog post).

But hey, it was the World Juniors!

End Of 2025 Thoughts

My now ex-boss ... yeah, he was a guy.  Not only did he announce he was leaving through e-mail the minimum two weeks before he actually leaving, today, his last day, he didn't stay the whole day.  And he just e-mailed everybody peace before he left for his car five minutes later.  We all made a goodbye and thanks card for him, but my co-worker had to run it out to him as he was about to leave.  I think I said this before: I would rather have him than a micro-manager.  But geez, this is the guy who hired me for my first full-time job.  He helped me turn into a responsible adult.  I would have liked to express my gratitude in a less shallow way.

---

My co-worker to whom I leaned up for much of my job left at the end of 2024, so in that sense, 2025 has gone full circle.  It has been a challenge to see my job, and thus me, change, mostly because people above me were leaving.  (I forgot that my supervisor left in the late summer; I still haven't recovered from that.)  We'll get by, only because we have to.  But I have no idea what this change will bring, and I don't like change as a principle.

I think the main thing that happened in my life, though, is Mother's knee surgery.  I am able to live much of my life independently, and for the most part I love living alone.  I haven't been able to do that for the past seven or eight months because of what Mother has to go through.  I always adapt, and I am glad that she got her knee fixed (even though she complains that it is not as good as she wants it to be), but some days it hasn't been fun having them around here ... and yet, I want to cherish the times I have with my folks when they're good, like when Father helped me clear the driveway of snow, or every night I get to eat a great dinner my parents made.

My neighbor's death a few weeks ago still weighs on me.  She is the person in my life I have lost this year, so in that sense, I have been quite lucky.  That's why I want to enjoy my time with my parents when they should be halfway around the world.  One year I will look back on the year with great, intense sadness.  I know it'll happen, and I don't want it to.

---

I'm driving down to my friends' place after I get finished with this blog post.  Hope I survive the drive down and back.  It's a tradition I intend on continuing for as long as possible, as a signpost that, despite all the setbacks and wrongs and pain I might have incurred through the year, I made it.

Happy New Year, everyone.  Let's make it a good one.

On my way out the door at work yesterday/Wednesday my co-worker stopped me.  I had logged off of my computer, and thus didn't see my e-mail.  But my co-worker was staying a bit longer and had me look at her e-mail.

My boss sent a letter, just as many of us were leaving.  He's leaving the company at the end of the year.

Look, I don't want to get too mushy, but I'm not taking this well.  So yes, I have complained about him in the past about overtime.  First of all, that's largely subsided in the past year or so, partly because most of the year has been filled with learning to do the work other people had been doing, partly because the workload has actually been tame enough that we've been leaving after eight hours ever since, oh, Halloween or so.  And even so, beyond one time where I started putting out feelers for other jobs (and by the way, I think he's leaving to pursue a passion of his), nothing too serious came about his, for lack of a better word, threats over it.  I didn't like what he said, but he didn't go beyond that to action that affected my workday or pay.

Beyond that, I actually like him as a boss.  He's overall easygoing, he for the most part provided answers whenever I had questions, and yet at the same time he sure isn't a micromanager.  I could go to him if I had issues.  Finally, I respected him as a boss.  He was dedicated to and serious about doing the work, even if he didn't take himself seriously, which is the best combination.  He wasn't a dick, and he didn't play games as a person in authority.

Now that he's gone ... well, it's not to say that I'm sure that I'll get the opposite, but we're heading into the unknown as to who we'll answer to and what he or she will expect from us.  And sure, I didn't know what I would get from him as a boss.  But he was the one who interviewed and hired me for my first (and so far only) actual job; I was going to have to deal with whatever he was going to give me and whoever he decided to be.  And I can say, for a fact, I could do a lot worse than him.  But he is gone, and frankly, on top of my neighbor dying, and the massacres at Brown University and Bondi Beach in Sydney, plus Rob Reiner and his wife being murdered by their son, and this corrupt and stupid piece of shit that cheated to win the presidency a second time getting away with it every day, this is more change I didn't want to have to deal with at the same time.  It's a blindside, and right now, it feels sad.

I Was Afraid The Masseuse Made Me Sick

So last week, because I hadn't had one in so long, I needed one, and just to get away for some me time, I got a massage.  And for the first time in a long time, I went to the massage place close to my house, not downtown.  They're cheaper out there, and so I didn't mind indulging $200+ for the first two-hour massage I've ever had.

Problem was the masseuse.  I've had her before, once before.  She is the second masseuse I've used at this place.  The first one was a revelation: Strong hands, she knew where to untie all my knots, and she was so cool to talk to, both informative with what she was doing as well as friendly when we were making small talk.  I have tried for the longest time to get her again, for years actually, but when I try to schedule her online, she's not available.  This reservation system shows the first date she is available, and it's the damnedest thing, but it says she isn't available for months, literally months.  She's great, but I can't believe she's that in demand.  This massage place is in an office park in the suburbs, for crissake.

So the one I had last week was the second time I've had this other masseuse.  She's good, but the first time I had her, she walked in with a cane.  I couldn't believe someone who has trouble walking would do massages, and I was wrong, she was very powerful with her hands as well.  But the juxtaposition kind of stayed with me, and in a bad way, even though she did nothing wrong.

Last week I was desperate for a rubdown, so I went to this place, which I hadn't been to in more than a year, and I got this second masseuse because the first one was still booked out months in advance.  So imagine my surprise when I got to the office park (I was asked on a voicemail left for me if I was willing to move up my reservation; I called back and said work was probably going to keep me where I was at; I only got there ten minutes before my scheduled time) and saw both masseuses just sitting there.  I was going to ask the first masseuse why she was there and when can I get a massage from her, but that would've been rude to the second masseuse who ushered me into the room.

I can't complain that the two-hour massage was bad.  Time actually dragged, which is something weird to say when you're theoretically being pampered like this.  Also, I was face down for half the time, and in the end there my face really began to hurt.  I can't sit face down like that for long, and that's something I need to be cognizant about.  Maybe two hours is a bit too long.

But -- and again, the massage itself was very relaxing -- this masseuse kind of bugged me even more.  There are two reasons that I can recall (although I thought I had one or two more complaints about her but forgot).  One, she inadvertently knocked me in the back of the head a few times with her forearms.  Not relaxing.  Two, and worse, she had three or four really nasty coughing fits during our session.  She said that she was doing that because the cleaning lady was around.  I don't buy that.  I think she had something, and for a few days after the massage I felt like I caught that nasty something from her.  I don't think I got sick, but still, having a masseuse get into several coughing fits without doing all she can to cover her mouth puts a lie to the tranquil, antiseptic atmosphere that is the ideal environment for a rubdown.

So, will I go back to her, and this place?  Probably, though probably not for a while.  Massages are expensive.  Plus, I still cannot fathom how this first masseuse is booked months in advance when she was just sitting around when I came in, and a piece of me wants to ask questions about that.  But, maybe this second masseuse will be healthier when I get a massage from her again.

The Really, Really, Really Long World Series Game

I was going to talk about ****e standing me up Sunday afternoon, but it's now past 1:30 a.m. Tuesday morning as I type this, and Game 3 of the World Series is now in the 18th Inning.

I have railed (maybe not here on WAF) against Penalty Kicks in soccer and the Overtime rules in college football to determine a winner after regular time.  I hate them because the formats are so unlike how the Games were played up till then.  It's gimmicky and just a way to get the thing over with.  Well, this ain't over, not by a long shot.  I have to admit that I don't think the players playing now are playing well now that the Game is approaching the length of two Games (and I hope that sentence makes sense).  But this maintains the integrity of the baseball Game, no doubt.  Hey, at least there isn't a ghost runner like there is in the regular season nowadays.  And I have to say that I want to know, for my own self, that I stayed up till the wee hours in the morning to watch arguably The Longest Postseason Baseball Game In History.  And like I complained about before, I have to wake up at 5:30 because I work early today!

I Should Try Getting Off Of Social Media

Well, ever since the Jynx lost in Game 2 on Tuesday I was dreading the worst.  And I knew that if I came across bad news, I would do so while scrolling through Twitter or Bluesky.  So I did my best to stay off of them.  I think I've blog posted before that the urge to look was strong, so strong that I think I'm addicted to it.  But, I did.

And you know what?  I didn't feel bad.  The feeling that I was missing out on something was still there, believe me.  But that subsided since I started my self-ban.  Moreover, I was able to concentrate more on watching TV.  I have complained about missing key plays (such as Goals in soccer) because I would always take even a short lull in play to pick up my phone and start looking.  Yesterday/Sunday, knowing I wanted to say away from all things Jynx, I just curled up in my bed and watched the NFL ... well, when I wasn't passed out and taking naps.  Those are good ways to note doomscroll, too.  But all day I went without checking social media, and I felt alright.

Alas, since I do The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey, at some point I had to learn about what happened.  I was going to wait till today/Monday to hear any montage from The Common Man Progrum to tell me.  When I reached for my phone to see how charged it was, a notification from The Athletic app told me what I had feared, indeed the worst-case scenario: Minnesota indeed lost Games 3 and 4 and were summarily eliminated from the WNBA Playoffs.  My full autopsy on this abortion of a season will go up on Tuesday, but suffice it to say, this is one of the all-time chokejobs in Minnesota sports history.

With that seal broken, I declared the self-ban broken, and I went back on Twitter and Bluesky again.  This time I knew full well that not only did I want to see a reason as to how the Jynx fucked up this championship run, I wanted to see tweets and skeets reflecting my hate of this failure of a team -- "Yeah, anonymous person whom I don't even know could be a Russian bot -- insult all of those worthless players!  You dumb motherfuckers fucking SUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!"  And then I saw the litany of tweets and skeets about what Trump did and said, and all the ICE raids happening in the country, and all the rude and mean things Republicans said and did over the weekend ... and then I remember that whenever I go on social media, I get very upset and angry.  In fact, social media is engineered to get you upset and angry.  And then I remembered how I felt since Tuesday, when I just didn't go on social media.  Sure, the urge to see what I was missing out was there.  But I was a hell of a lot less upset and angry.  And now, come to think of it, being clued into what I'm missing out on isn't worth the rage that boils inside me whenever I scroll.

I liked how I felt when I wasn't constantly going through social media.  And maybe this will cost me being a more attuned sports fan and American citizen, but I don't know if I want to do it anymore.  Maybe these past few days of being clueless is actually beneficial to my soul ... and maybe I should stay off of it, permanently, for my health and mental well-being.

Maybe Fuck Dinner

I am doing my level best to convey how upset I am that they have gone through and literally thrown away most of my stuff, but doing so in a passive-aggressive way so that I don't get thrown out of the house.  That's tough to do, considering that they still don't seem to give a shit.  But I might have been pushed to do something that could get their attention, if only because I am now tired of it myself.

Yesterday/Thursday was a no-spend day.  I was going to go in to work, leave work, and go home.  (I have my trepidations about doing that, but I will blog post about that at a later time.)  Work actually was light, light enough for me to come home at a decent hour, early enough to eat dinner with my folks.  But that didn't happen.  My Fucking Mother recently alluded to the fact that, because I had worked so late so often, My Fucking Parents don't eat dinner much, either.  So, regardless of when I come home, eating together has gotten quite rare in the last, oh, couple months, and we really haven't eaten together all that much since they came home.

What they do is leave food for me, and usually it's too much, way more than I would get for myself if we were eating together.  My Fucking Parents continue to say that I don't have to eat all the food they leave for me, but I know that's a goddamn lie.  I mean, they used the impetus of me spearheading donating my old car as an excuse to clean everything else I hold near and dear out.  (Don't care if that sounds like a conspiracy; I believe it.)  So I am under the gun to eat everything they laid out for me.  And for dinner last night, they laid out two pork chops, three pieces of Kentucky Fried Chicken, a bowl of spicy vegetables, tofu soup, and about a cup of rice.

That was so goddamn much it took me two hours to eat it all.  And I feel fat because I am fat after consuming that all.  And they're not even there.  So now, after they've taken everything important from me and done so under false pretenses, why in the fuck am I eating all this shit by myself?  If dinner is something we don't do anymore, why should I even eat at home anymore?  I mean, sometimes I will eat out.  But I am thinking that even on these no-spend days, I just go home and ... not eat.  And it doesn't matter if I get home late or early.  I just won't eat.  You know, I keep complaining about all this food and how it's fattening my belly and making me gain weight.  Why not ... just not eat?

And hey, it might send a message that I don't think we're a family anymore.  Because after the bullshit they just pulled, we're not.

Nine Inch Nails Concert

So I just bought a ticket to the Nine Inch Nails concert.  I've complained in the past about finding the perfect time to buy a ticket -- buy too early and I might be paying more than I should, wait it out and get shut out altogether.  Well, I just got a ticket for $36.15 through SeatGeek.  Nine Inch Nails last toured more than three years ago and they're shopping their newest music, which is not a new album but the soundtrack for the latest Tron film.  Are those the reasons I bought this for about $20 cheaper than face?

I am looking forward to tonight.  As tired as I said I was in my last blog post -- and I am -- I look forward to the challenge of doing two music concerts on the same night ... which, I just realized as I brushed my teeth, I did just a fortnight ago.  (But back on the 2nd I went from The Dakota to First Avenue; here, I'm going from Cedar-Riverside to downtown St. Paul, so that will be an added challenge.)  I look forward to seeing my friends -- one at Palmer's, then at least one of my high school buddies at NIN.  I believe there will be more because we all were listening to The Downward Spiral our senior year.

You know what I am not looking forward to?  Well, Trent Reznor & Co. are supposed to end their show by around 10:40, and tomorrow/Monday I have to work, so that won't be fun.  Also, I took a look at the band's setlist.  They're not ones to change it up, and though it looks as if Nine Inch Nails will play the hits at the end like most bands do ("Hurt" looks to be the last song, and there doesn't seem to be an encore, BTW), there isn't the spontaneity from changing up the setlist that, I feel, makes the show I go to a special one because it isn't quite like all the others.  But I have to confess: Besides the hits, I am not familiar with NIN music.  Come to think of it, I'm not much of a Nine Inch Nails fan.  So, why did I buy a ticket then?  To say I saw them in an arena?  To park for free in St. Paul?

Well, I am seeing these guys for a bargain.  That ain't bad.

I got the news that my parents' accountant has had a sudden downturn of health and is no longer working, effective immediately.  My parents told me.  They in turn learned about it through a text sent from their accountant's phone, although the person who sent the text is his son.

It's not like I really know the guy.  But as long as I have lived, he has been the one who has prepared all my parents' tax affairs.  And we have talked from time to time if he needed me to relay some message to my folks because either they were overseas or they didn't understand.  My parents (well, Mother in particular; she's the one who handles all the financial stuff) have always badmouthed him.  Mother only talks to me about their accountant when she wants to complain about him.  It's not incessant, but I have never heard her say a good word about him.  So I feel bad about how my folks bash him without him knowing; I know the feeling.  Add that he apparently has suffered a very serious health emergency, and I sympathize.  In fact, I grieve for him, even though he probably will never know my sentiments.

And in the meantime, I might need to help my parents find a new accountant.

The Last Fuckin' Thing I Need

I had two long conversations with my sister, one just tonight and one last night.  It's good to speak with my sister.  We don't talk often, but when we do, we talk for a long time.

With that said, I didn't like the news she gave me.  She's in touch with our uncle, with whom my parents stay when they're abroad.  My folks just returned from China yesterday/Sunday, and my uncle said my mother (his big sister) said that she was really complaining about her legs.  Maybe she's just complaining a lot, and even if it were serious, maybe she could just find some treatment over there.  But, remote as it is, my sister says there's a chance my parents will come home.  They planned on being gone four months, and they're coming back in one?!  Don't fucking ruin my plans like that.  Yeah, I guess I'm glad I haven't hauled out my shit from my storage unit (yet).  But I want to at some point, and now you're telling me there's a non-zero chance I won't be able to do that at all?  And that I won't have the run of the house to myself, and that I have to watch what I eat, and what I wear, and what I do?!  Gimme a fuckin' break!!!

Maybe I Will Get Fired, Maybe I Won't ... ?

So after thinking about it for almost 48 hours, I fired off a reply to my boss' e-mail where he did not like me speaking out about the workload I had kept to myself.  While I initially wanted my response to be fiery and even maybe a little bit defensive, I toned down the comebacks and invited guidance as to why I need to get done before I leave for the day and what I can push off till the next day.

Well, I haven't been fired.  Nor did my boss snap back at me when he replied Wednesday morning.  I get the feeling, however, he doesn't think I completely understood what he was complaining about.  His response was all about asking for help the next time I'm swamped.  I already know that, I was hoping he could tell me which specific tasks must be done and which can wait.  I didn't get that answer, so maybe we're talking at each other and not to each other.

With that being said, my boss hasn't raised that issue since he e-mailed me back.  Maybe I was right to stop and think instead of react viscerally because, like many things that seemed insurmountable at the time, it washes over by the next day.  Maybe he doesn't really think it's that big of a deal.  Maybe he had to e-mail because he was told to.  So, maybe this is nothing, and I can continue to work overtime to stay on top of the work, however slow my boss thinks I am being.

Too Much Food Anyway

I also wanted to eat out on Friday because I had eaten a lot, I think way too much, at home.  My parents cook splendidly and I'm glad I can eat, and for free.  But they make a goddamn lot, and they still make me eat a goddamn lot, and I swear I'm getting fatter and thus unhealthier.  So yes, I understand eating fast food is much less healthy and I am spending money while doing it.  So, if I can control how much I eat, that should be good for me, right?  Well, that plan goes out the window if the restaurant screws up the order, which they did, technically.

OK, so I got home, grabbed my phone which was on my bed all day Friday, was going to tell my parents I was here and then leave but realized they didn't give a shit, and went to my car to order Chipotle.  I had free birthday guac, so I bought chips, and since Chipotle gives you a lot of chips, I didn't think I needed more than one taco (and I got their new chipotle honey chicken) and pop and I would be good.

What I have noticed since the pandemic, with the resulting rise in mobile ordering and the possibly-causal decrease of staff working at these places, is that orders sometimes get real screwed up.  I usually don't do anything because, yes, I'm cynical enough to think it won't make a bit of difference.  But there has been more than one occasion where I have been given more food than I ordered, and that was the case here.  I suspected nothing when I took my bag directly from the workers who had just finished my order.  I intended to eat it there so I could just be at peace to start my weekend.  I noticed a bag within the bag, so that was the bag of chips.  I grab it ... and see another bag underneath.  They gave me two bags of chips?  And then I opened up the aluminum lid of the bowl in which I expected my one chipotle honey chicken taco.  And there I saw three.  (By the way, I only saw one cup of guacamole, not two.  I stopped to buy Top The Tater on my way home so I have something to dip the second bag of chips in.)

My guess is is that they were slammed with orders and were just getting them out.  I also guess that people usually don't order just one taco, so I assumed the workers just looked at the word "taco" and automatically made three.  That doesn't explain the two bags of chips, though, so maybe they wanted to give me a second bag of chips to make up for making me wait, even though I think I got there a bit before the ready-by time I was given on the Chipotle application.  Or they were being nice.  Or generous.  Or a combination thereof.

I know it's weird to complain about getting more food than you paid for.  But I have a waistline I have to tend to, I had a plan to watch what I ate, and dammit, I got all this good food again.  It wasn't unlike eating at home.  But I'm not stupid; I ate the three tacos (pretty good) and one bag of chips with the guacamole before I left.  And I got fat and I was happy I was given all this food.

And I think that, now that I'm done with this blog post, I'll start working on the second bag of chips and the Top The Tater.

Addendum To: I Played Myself

As paying ten more bucks than I needed to wasn't bad enough, I saw something at the X I didn't think I would see.  There was a merchandise stand there, selling several items related to the conference (the NCHC) and the event (the Frozen Faceoff), but not as many items as I would expect for an event of that size.  Two of the items, a shirt and a pint glass, commemorate the fact that this is the last time (or so they say) the conference will have its tournament in St. Paul (and for the first few year of the NCHC, it was at Target Center in Minneapolis)/neutral ice; starting next year and for the foreseeable future, the conference tournament will be played on campus sites.

The tag line for the event was "Last Call In St. Paul," and that slogan was on a shirt and a pint glass.  I saw the shirt (but not the pint glass) while I was walking the concourse inbetween the Semifinals on Friday and thought, "Hey, that's kind of cool."  And then I saw there were a few people at the stand, so I figured that I would continue to get my steps in, buy food (a pizza slice because it was the shortest line) and, once I got done with that, go back to the stand to purchase something.  Swear to God it was maybe 25 minutes at the most.  But once I went back to the merch table, the "Last Call In St. Paul" shirt was gone.  I never thought that, what, 5,000 people would buy enough shirts to sell out, but it sounds from the merch people that they didn't have much to sell.

What did catch my eye was a scarf.  It had the NCHC logo, the year of its birth ("Est. 2014"), and the 2025 Frozen Faceoff logo.  It makes no mention of the fact that this is the last neutral site Frozen Faceoff, but shit, this is as close to marking this "end of an era" as I'll get, especially if they don't make this scarf anymore, which, in hindsight, I doubt.  But I bought it, for $30.

I went back there last/Saturday night for the Frozen Faceoff Final.  (By the way, Western Michigan came back from a 3-0 Second Period deficit to win it in Double Overtime, 4-3.  Some kid from Prior Lake potted the Game-winner, his second of the night.  I didn't see it in person; I left early because I had to catch the last light rail, at a quarter after 11 [which got pushed back to 11:25 or so -- damn, Metro Transit has to be more accurate with that stuff], to get back to where I parked my car at Midway)  No new shirts or pint glasses.  But they still had scarves.  And now they were selling them for $25 apiece.  I looked at the sign with the price; someone printed out "25," cut it into a square, and taped it right in front of the "30."  I have no fucking clue why someone suddenly discounted the scarves by five bucks, but I feel cheated, and I feel so goddamn impotent because I want to complain to someone about it, but I don't want to come off as a whiner.  But why in the hell did they knock off five bucks on the scarf?!

So now, not only did I overpay for the ticket to that Game by $10-3, it looks as though I paid five bucks too much for that goddamn scarf.  So that's $15-8 I feel like I need to make up by not spending on something I would spend money on, like coffee and breakfast before work.  Man, that shit just pisses me off.

The Place Where Pop Bottles Are Still Cheap (Well, Not Anymore, At Least Not Quite)

As I've gotten older, I have gotten more attuned to how much things cost.  I guess I could have been more aware of that earlier, but maybe that ignorance is a sign of how blessed/privileged I am.  Still, inflation is a thing (though it shouldn't've been enough to throw Joe Biden out of the race), and even I am beginning to grouse about the price of things.

To wit: Pop.  It increased the past several years to the point where I reconsidered that a second reason (the first being that it's bad for you) to cut back on drinking it as much as I have.  Emphasis on the past tense: I might be a caffeine addict or have a sugar tooth, but after cutting back, the withdrawal was too much for me to take, and I have been back on my pop tip since.  But still, I notice.  And I have tried to counteract that by keeping a mental list of how much a bottle of pop is at the grocery stores and gas stations I buy them from, so that maybe I will patronize places that sell it regularly for cheaper.

There was one place that consistently sold it for cheaper: The mom-and-pop grocer not too far from here.  While a bottle was going for $2.79 and up, this place was selling them for, get this, $2.19.  Whoa!  Now I fully understood the concept of comparison shopping.  Why in the hell would I buy the same bottle of pop for sixty cents more -- sixty?!  The problem is that I did not patronize buying bottles of pop here as much as I should have.  I usually succumbed to convenience -- for example, since I was already at the gas station to get gas, I might as well buy the pop there, even if it is $2.79.

And now I feel regret about not exploiting that financial disparity.  For one thing, I went to a gas station to get gas for my car late last/Thursday night, and I noticed that they are, ugh, $2.99 there (although you can buy two for $4.50 or something, I think).  More unfortunate, however, is that the mom-and-pop grocer recently, and finally, raised the price of pop bottles they sell -- to $2.49.  Yes, it's still a pretty sizable bargain compared to what you'd get at other places around town.  But I swear a bottle was selling for $2.49 everywhere not too long ago.  And the reason I didn't hoard bottles there at $2.19 is that my parents would yell at me for indulging in such a sugary drink, and they're coming back soon, so I can't hoard at $2.49, either.

At this point, the grocery store will ratchet it up to $2.79 soon enough, and then I'd have to question how much of a difference it would be to buy there instead of anywhere else.  But for the longest time, a bottle of pop there (and it was both Coke and Pepsi products) was just $2.19.  Those were the days, man, those were the days. ...

Work Has Been Really Much Lately

So since my co-worker retired, we have had to fill in for her.  We have, or at least I have, realized I need to refresh my memory on how to do things, and there are new things I either haven't done in ages, haven't done at all even though I was trained to do it, or have not been taught how to do.  On top of that, there has been primarily only one person assigned to The Third Department every day, and the work is not manageable enough for only person to do all day.  Well, it can.  I've done it a few days a week this past work week.  It's just that I have had to stay an extra hour, or two.

I used to call The Third Department my favorite department because it was a difference in both task and environment from the first two positions I got trained in.  But with no one who's been at the job for years to lean on anymore, we are fending for ourselves, and even though I guess I am getting by, it's been overwhelming, particularly this week.  I cannot call this department my favorite anymore.

Yesterday/Friday was an indication of how bonkers it gets.  We get our shipment of forms every morning flown in from the South.  As usually happens once in January, a snowstorm down south prevents the shipment for that day.  That happened yesterday/Friday: A flight was cancelled, and we got a third of the forms we were supposed to get.  That meant that all the people out in data entry (My Main Department, although I think I might have to change that designation because I work in the back a little more often nowadays) got done very early.  (They might have to make up for it, by the way; the shipment that got delayed might come as early as today/Saturday, in which case they will have two days' worth of work to do over the course of one day.  I am on call in case that delayed shipment comes in, and yes, I might be doing data entry for several hours this afternoon if need be.)  But, and maybe I should have realized this earlier than I did, the work they get does not come from the same sources from which I get work in The Third Department.  While all the keyers left, I got flooded with things I needed to do -- so much so that I stayed an extra 1:45 minutes yesterday/Friday.  That was on top of the extra 1:15 or so Thursday.

Work so far in 2025 has been so stressful, and has me so strung out, that after work both Thursday and yesterday/Friday, once I came home, I eventually got really groggy and conked off to take naps deep in the evening -- about 90 minutes Thursday night, maybe a half-hour just this past evening.  I wanted to stay up to listen to both College Football Playoff Semifinals on SiriusXM, but I just couldn't.  I fell asleep to both Games and woke up after they both got done, even though I may have woken up just long enough to listen to Drew Allar throwing that Game-losing Interception for Penn St. and Jack Sawyer's scoop-and-score for Ohio St. to seal their Win before I fell back asleep.  Or maybe not.  I don't remember the last time work has physically beaten me into unconsciousness.

Now, a part of the general weariness I have leaving work is that this lab closing continues to flood the company with work I have had to deal with in The Fourth Department, which is also not a picnic.  That is supposed to subside at some point this month.  The work in The Third Department will not.  The workload that has been will continue to be.  The big problem, and I don't know if my supervisor or boss sees this, is that The Third Department is not a one-person job.  It may not be a two-person job -- I still wonder whether my co-worker back there was simply laid off over the summer in a cost-cutting move -- but it sure as hell is not a one-person job.  I should add that yesterday/Friday, the person holding down The Fourth Department helped me with an important task I should have gotten to well before the mid-afternoon but simply couldn't.  Without her coming to rescue me like an angel from on high, I would not have been able to finish all the work I absolutely had to do before I had to leave ten hours after I bleepin' started work.  She said that she was busy with work too, and she was surprised she put in a full day when many other departments scrammed after only a half-day.  I'm still shocked she still had time t help me.  And if she can get through her day of work in that position faster than I can ... well, my higher-ups might have questions as to why she can get done faster with her stuff faster than I can.

And, well, that's my saving grace in all this.  I might be inundated with all this work, but the company wants the work to get done, so I am racking up the overtime.  Yeah, I don't know if I have mentioned this, but my boss has not bitched at me about OT since around Easter.  I think my co-worker getting let go (or fired) has resulted in a paucity of workers to do all the work that has to be done.  Maybe others can do their job at 40 hours a week, but I can't, I haven't, and I haven't heard any crap for it.  Maybe I will hear more blowback now that the holidays are over and overtime is priced at time-and-a-half and not time.  (By the way, that might change now that That Fucking Guy will be installed as President again.  I think he and Republicans are proposing a change that allows companies to spread overtime thresholds over a whole month instead of a week.  Stupid damn MAGAts).

My boss is going to have a meeting late in the month about how The Third Department is working out now that there is no one full-time back there.  I don't want to lose work per se, but I really don't want to be overworked and abandoned back there, so I am going to tell him that it's too much for one person.  That might bring about meaningful change ... or it might bring about me losing my job.  Who knows?

My Boss Can't Set My Schedule Next Week Because My Parents Might Not Be Able To Pick Airplane Seats

I'll let the cat out of the bag: My parents are going on safari starting on Thursday.  That obviously entails taking them to the airport, which I will do in the morning and for which I have already asked my boss if I could come in late.

Unfortunately there is another thing that my parents, or at least My Mother, wants me to do for them: Pick out seats.  I'm guessing that the same process applies to all airlines -- you check in before your flight online and, assuming you didn't pre-pay for a seat (and I always think that's a ripoff), that is when you select your seat.  I usually don't care all that much.  Besides, in my estimation (and this is usually through Southwest, even though I just saw that the airline is doing away with open seating, which is a stupid idea), when you check in, half of the seats are already taken by people who decided to pay to cut in line and pick their seats.  But my parents care.  Don't know if this is a new way of thinking, but at least their second flight (they technically fly from here to Canada and then to two stops in Africa) is long enough whereby they want to pick their seats to prevent getting crappy ones.  They're old, you see.

Now, I just assumed they've picked seats at online check-in before.  But for some reason -- my guess is Mother is panicking, which scares me because this is no damn reason to get anxious -- they either don't know how to do it or don't trust themselves to be able to do it.  And so they want me to do it.  This particular airline (and maybe it's because it's an international flight) allows you to check in 48 hours in advance.  Assuming I correctly accounted for the time zone difference, my parents can check in as early as a quarter to 10 on Wednesday.  I would be at least a couple hours into my shift at work.  But they still want me to help them open their computer, type out the airline's URL, punch in their confirmation number, and pick the seats for them.  Forget how people younger than boomers should be able to figure this out; this might -- might -- be a ten-minute ordeal.  But I might have to orient my entire day around this, and them.

Oh, and on top of this?  They might not even be able to pick seats.  They obviously booked their safari through a tour company, so it's possible that the tour has parcelled out seats already.  Do I know for sure?  Nope.  Mother is complaining that Father should be in contact with the tour company about whether seats are assigned.  But I have no idea if he has even talked to them, let alone whether the tour company has pre-selected seats for them.  If they have, I assume my folks can take care of the check-in process (and it's possible the tour company will check them in for them), and that means I won't have to stay home to help them.  But if the tour company is leaving tourists to do it themselves, that means I have to do this shit.  And since it's at least a couple hours into my normal workday, it's possible I might have to take the whole goddamn day off.  Just to help my parents pick fucking seats.

I raised this issue with my boss, and maybe I shouldn't have.  My original line of thought was to ask to come in a couple hours late both Wednesday and Thursday.  Then, after not getting a clear signal one way or the other as to the check-in/seat-selecting process for Wednesday, I had to convey that to my boss.  He then said it might be easier if I am scheduled a couple hours later than usual both dates.  That's when I had to remind him that Wednesday's still up in the air.  And I didn't receive word from him before I left for the day yesterday/Thursday.

He fills out next week's schedule by Friday because Friday's my last workday and I need to know where I am working for Monday.  But I don't know what's going on with this bullshit with picking friggin' seats online, so my Wednesday's unclear, and so I take it that my whole week is unclear.  If my boss is frustrated that he can't schedule me yet, I can't blame him.  This is absolutely ridiculous.  I cannot see how something as trivial as picking seats is hanging up my work schedule.  But dammit, it is.