Eh, it's not as bad as all that, but I've been dizzy since Judo class Wednesday night. Just enough to be bothersome. There's a lot of rolling, flipping, tumbling, that sort of thing in Judo, and one move just started my internal gyroscope to wobblin'. I wish it would quit.
Seems like it's getting better very... slowly...
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Yesterday the dizziness was bad enough to send me home a little early. Love the boss's response to me humbly requesting to leave 30 minutes early because I'd felt like crap all day:
"You usually leave at 6:30?"
"Yes"
"You can make up the :30 minutes next week, or take it off of your time card."
"Okay."
No "hope you feel better," no "hope you're not having an aneurysm," no "hey, it's just a half-hour and your work's all done--just scoot out." I'm 36, and I don't know when I'll leave the UTTERLY SOULLESS CONFINES OF BELO, but let me tell you, sometimes I feel like burning this bridge with an epic-length manifesto-type "go screw thyself" letter. This is the most stuffed-shirt bunch of assholes on the planet. We'll have our monthly staff meeting in early February, and I fully expect that we'll be chewed on a third time for the two minutes some of us (not me) spent at the window watching the snowfall during our one winter storm last month.
They seem to have no idea how many resumes are floated out of there on a weekly basis; if the job market didn't stink they'd be struggling to put butts in seats, let me tell you.
Do I seem a little angry? Maybe I should save the rest for my manifesto...
***
Let me clarify one thing, though: I think my boss is the best one there (and she doesn't read the blog as far as I know, so this isn't just brown-nosing). She's good. Thing is, she's loaded down with lots of projects (like a new station), and I'm currently not dealing with her directly much. I've got a team leader or some such that I report to mostly. I trained the person who trained her, and now she's my boss... sorry... save it for the manifesto...
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THEBOY is better, thank God.
***
Randy Galloway, a fairly useless radio personality and hack Ft. Worth columnist, reports that Jim Reeves, a good Ft. Worth Columnist, is going to report tomorrow that he thinks the Rangers have Carlos Delgado locked up.
(Follow that?)
You know, I can't say the prospect of having his incredible left-handed bat in our lineup doesn't sound enticing. And hell, I'm not the one signing the paychecks... I just didn't think that splurging on pricey free agents was our approach these days. Didn't we learn anything from the Alex Rodriguez debacle?
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Dad informs me that reading the blog is inspiring him to write more. Good!
***
Kelli continues to work out and drop weight. It's inspiring, I have to say. When that woman sets her mind to something WATCH OUT. She's lookin' finer than frog hair, let me tell you.
***
Mike Llorca is living those hazy early days as a father. Joshua is, what, two weeks old now? And I gather no one's getting much sleep. Ah, I remember those days. Sort of. But I'm thrilled for him and Denise, and I'm only chuckling a little when I say they'll get through it. It may seem like a long way off now, but babies do often start sleeping through the night at six weeks of age.
***
Be good--but not too good--and have a happy weekend. Good luck Michael.
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2 comments:
Good luck with the soulless confines, bro. There is something to be said for writing a manifesto Jerry Maguire style and calling it quits.
A friend of mine once quit his job with no job lined up, a chunk of debt and no clear idea of how he was going to make it all work. He was that fed up. He was luckier than most would have been. He only spent two weeks unemployed before a better opportunity - both in income and working environment - presented itself. Since then, he has become a miser, paid off every last debt and stockpiled cash sufficient to allow him to walk away from any job at any time without looking back. I admire his dedication to cutting his umbilical cord to corporate America. Just having the freedom to walk away, he says, makes it so much easier to stomach the day-to-day frustrations.
He is single and without kids, which makes it infinitely less complicated to leave paychecks behind.
Delgado... Glad to have his bat, but wondering why we wouldn't use that money on pitching. Some teams just never figure it out. It is all about pitching, especially in the post-steroid era. Now that MLB finally has a drug testing policy with some teeth, I'm looking forward to a new era of 2-1 and 1-0 ballgames where every last pitch actually matters.
Here's the weekend!
Oh, and I almost forgot: Keep the writing coming, father Briscoe! The more of us doing it, the better. And inspiration is contagious, so we will all be happy to hear more from your muse!
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