Back in the Office Again

After all the family and holiday joy. After all the eating and lounging around. After all that travel and reading. I'm baaaaaack in the friggin office. The Mrs. is working a four-ten this week so I dropped her off at 6:15 am and got to work early got the pot of coffee going. Checked my emails (work ones not the hotmail fun) and got settled and figured that Sir Von Ass Wipe and his lovely and gracious wife, Peach would have spent the holiday at the beach so they would come to about noon and carry their sorry butts in here around closing time (that's the usual Monday schedule) but NO. At about quarter to 8 I saw their shit carrying car whip into the parking lot and out they came. Fighting and yelling all the way up the stairs and down the hall. The little four foot 90 pound H. Ross Perot look alike stomping like a three year old with his six foot, 350 pounds of love stomping right behind him. Her arms a waving like a scared emu and her trap a flapping like an unlocked metal door to a tool shed following him all the way to my office.

The first thing she does is lit into me for not taking the phone off night ring and not having the office unlocked and the lights on. I wanted to tell her that I was about to but saw her sorry ass coming and decided she could do something constructive around here for once. She stood at the door of my office shutting out any possibility of light coming in from the hall trying to squeeze information out of me about my holiday. Her chicken shit of a husband finally stuck his head throught a crack betwen one of her rolls and the door jamb to tell me they will be out of the office until Friday. They will be in Minnesota drumming up business. By 10:30 they were gone and the three remaining people in the office were completly frazzled. It was like visiting my friend McMurphy at the state hospital. Everyone was riled and the asshole nurse Ratchit wouldn't put the damn game on the TV. I wish Ken Kesey before he caught the last bus trip would have not only written about my hometown in Sometimes a Great Notion but this crazy outfit. I guess I'll have to do it.

What Sir Von Ass Wipe and his lovely and gracious wife, Peach don't get thewy have lied too much lately and Friday may be just drop dead day. They have lied to us since May that we were getting a bonus. First it was during the summer, then at the end of October (fiscal year), then before Thanksgiving and now we have been told December 1st. There are several deadlines and promises to clients due the next couple of weeks and they think they can go galivanting around the frozen tundra while we slave away. Not happening. January 1 will be the day I tell them I am leaving and they can just stick the whole thing in their ear. That's if I make it to January 1. Friday will be telling.

Meanwhile back at the ranch. We returned safely to our beautiful home that has more fix-it needs then Bob Villas could ever muster, but everything was intact. Right where we left them except for the dead mouse all chomped on, on the kitchen counter that "Killer" cat thought would be a great welcome home gift. The kid watching the house told me he couldn't see what was in her mouth when he let her the house the night before.

Oh yeah, all the neighbors have their Christmas lights(or holiday lights for you Bostonians and left-wing pinkos)up. This is the first time in ten plus years in the neighborhood we weren't first. So Wednesday night we go to work on the display.

I hate when holidays are over. I am going to write my congressman and see if we can extend this years holidays to May.