It’s been one of those typical nutty weeks around here. The good news is that Joey’s laptop finally came back from the manufacturer after being in the repair shop for four weeks. The long nights at the office are over for now! The bad news is that we’re both so freaking exhausted that it’s hard to be excited about it.
Note to self:
When driving in the city, do not drive behind flatbed truck carrying portable toilets.
I witnessed some poor soul receiving a free carwash this morning as the truck in front of him took off from the stoplight. God knows whether the porta-johns were actually clean or not. I am still shuddering with the thought of what that guy must have thought watching all that nasty water/stuff pour out onto his beautiful white car.
Damn you, Panera Bread!
Damn you and your Caesar salad dressing. I love to dip my baguette in it and eat it. Forget about the salad, useless crap. Oh, I wasn’t supposed to say that, was I?
When I was out on the jobsite, I bet we ate at Panera at least 3 – 4 times a week for the entire year we were out there. It got to the point where I would almost dread the “what’s for lunch” question because we would invariably end up at Panera.
I’ve been back in the office since September, and just went back to Panera a few weeks ago. And dammit, I’m hooked again. It’s that dressing.
The new favorite national pastime – torturing interns
Let me start off by saying that MY intern, J, is awesome. This girl is seriously a workhorse. And polite, friendly, and just seems to be a good kid. I can call her that because I’m technically old enough to be her mother.
That being said, the intern working for my buddy JB is horrid. Talk about a conceited little punk-ass kid.
First of all, he shouldn’t be arrogant considering he goes to a school that in all honesty shouldn’t even be considered an accredited university. The place is a party school, period. I bet his real major is beer bong engineering.
His first day on the job, he told the project assistant, “You either need to help me with the fax machine or fax this yourself.” Then later on he told her, “Guys don’t file – chicks file.” This is after he threw a total conniption with the HR manager because she wouldn’t give him a management-color hard hat (management gets white, hourly employees get another color).
Um, okay. Buddy, you just picked the wrong bunch of bitches to piss off.
So on his first day he managed to piss off every female in the company. JB thought that good torture for him would be going through all the files looking for some innocuous information, making copies, fetching Starbucks orders, etc. After being yelled at by all of us to do something with the punk, JB sent him out to the jobsite, where his arrogance (“I learned all that stuff in college and you’re doing it WRONG” he told the superintendent with 30 years’ experience) made the superintendent so angry he called JB and said, “If you don’t come and get this sumbitch, I’m gonna throw him down the trash chute.”
JB sent him to another jobsite yesterday morning. Intern called him yesterday afternoon to ask where he should report for today. JB told him to report back to the jobsite to work all day. Intern said, “Dude, they told me we get off early on Fridays!” JB replied, “If you leave early, make sure you bring your hard hat in on Monday morning and be ready to clean out your desk.”
Ouch. But like my husband and I say all the time, if you’re gonna be dumb, you’ve gotta be tough.
Signing off for now…I hear the couch calling my name and perhaps a small snooze before I pick Monkey Man up. I need to figure out where we’re going for dinner…because if I don’t pick a place, Monkey Man gets to pick and it’s either Chick Fil A or the Japanese steakhouse. I don’t mind the steakhouse, but CFA drives me just as crazy as Chuck E. Cheese. And honestly, those cows totally creep me out. Have you seen the one with the big mop of brown hair? Exactly.