9/13/07

I'm not sure if y'all got to read what I had to say yesterday. I don’t know if Spiderman didn’t post it, if Blogspot lost it, if my connection to Blogspot didn’t refresh when I went to it or what, but I couldn’t read it. When I ask Spiderman about “lost posts” he usually sends me a questioning e-mail saying he did post it and that he can read it. I don’t know what causes my laptop to not see it, but it happens. Was that series of comments “passive/aggressive” in any way? I hope not. It wasn’t meant to be. But isn’t “not meaning to be” part of the whole thing with passive aggression? Hmm, interesting. Anyhoo, if you did read what I had to say yesterday, bear with me. Is it “bear” or “bare?” I think it’s “bear” so I'm sticking with that. Dang, I'm Mr. Tangent today aren’t I? So, what I was saying was that mom made me an offer about the house and I started making plans for how I was going to move all my “essential” vehicles there. See, I can probably afford the bills and taxes and such on the house if I gave up the shop in Beenbroke. Gregg pointed out that I wouldn’t need the shop in Beenbroke if I had my own place with a shop adjacent. I agree. There I go again! Anyhoo, back to what I was saying about what I was saying yesterday. I made it sound like I was tossing mom out on the street. Well, that was not what I meant to imply. She will be welcome to stay as long as she wants. I kind of imply that the living situation is that way already when the subject comes up. For instance, I'll say something like, “Mom lives with me,” rather than “I live with mom,” to imply that the place is mine and I'm allowing her to stay there out of the goodness of my heart. Of course, anyone who knows me knows I'm just a slacker from Generation X, that’s the real Generation X meaning anyone born between 1960 and 1970 and not some floating marketing term to describe people in their twenties, who refuses to get old by succumbing to societal norms of marriage, home, family, career, and all that other stuff we’re “supposed” to do. Psh, screw that! I'm going to enjoy myself as much as I can afford for as long as I can get away with it. Speaking of getting away with stuff, my “boss” came out to give me my annual performance review today. I've been here at the railroad for six and a half years now and this is the first PR I've had. Granted, I've worked for at least four different companies in those six and a half years, but still. Anyhoo, he’s putting me in for a raise. I'm embarrassed at how much they pay me now! I swear, if I had to deposit a check every two weeks, I don’t know if I could look the teller in the eye. I'm so glad I have direct deposit. Now don’t get me wrong, I'm not claiming to make obscene money or that I'm rich or anything like that, but for the actual work I do on a weekly basis, I'm overpaid! And I'm a comma abuser too. I think my problem is, and this explains the tangents, that I write “stream of consciousness” in a similar way to how I talk. I know; the grammar of that last sentence was atrocious. I'm not fixing it. It’s not like it was the first time nor will it be the last. Every English teacher I've ever had is spinning in their graves, even if they aren’t dead yet. Well, I have to go do some actual work, believe it or not, so I think I'm going to call the rant complete for the day. Toodles.