Some Quick Updates

This afternoon and tomorrow morning will be spent defending my job.  Not so much my chance to keep a job.  Actually, it’s a bit perplexing that I get to keep it.  Well, maybe not – I wouldn’t fire me.  Then again, I know what’s going on in my head and have a handle on what I can and have already done for the company.  But I don’t need to go down this shitty rabbit hole again.  At least not today.

Rather, I’ll be defending the department and its daily operations in opposition to the perception that must exist in light of my recent fuck-up.  Did I mention?  There’s now a gigantic white board right in front of me as a result of this.  I’m supposed to figure out how to use it show current and upcoming sandwich deliveries.  The back end manager says it’s “more for him”, but it’s pretty obvious it’s for me.  Understandable, except that it only proves to me that no one bothered to look at the material we already have.  It might just be semantics, but what’s the difference between a “checklist” and a “log” if they both contain the same information?  Also, why does everyone think that the standard checklists they use are any good?  They aren’t.  They are awful.  If this is how we produce all of our sandwiches, then the industry really should’t approve of them.  Our curly fry delivery process, on the other hand, is rock solid.  Stop fucking with it.

Next thing:

My lips are en Fuego.  They hurt so much that they are making my teeth hurt.  They hurt so fucking much that I wish I could just rip them off.  Of course, that wouldn’t help and only make things worse, but you know.  Always seems like a good idea.

Next-next thing:

Been booty-less for a little while.  This happens when you live in close quarters with family for about a week.  It happens more when your lips are all gnarly from the following week.  It’s unlikely that I’ll be up for it by this weekend, even if my lips are free and clear before then.  I’m pretty sure the risk of infection is still pretty high right after they clear up, and I just tend to feel gross for a while after.  It’s a real shame, because knockin’ boots really makes puts me at ease.  It boosts my confidence level, kills stress, and stops the world for a little while.  I could use that right about now.

tl;dr – Just fuckin’ bummed.

It’ll be fine, of course, so there’s really no need to sweat it.  I say this more to myself than the reader.  You fucks really shouldn’t care.