Here’s what has happened since the last time I blurted out my brain pictures onto this white space: my project from hell continues to remove pieces of my soul and chomp on it, and I’ve had about four million pages of science fiction to read, and also have decided now that my science fiction professor hates me. Also, my project from last year? The one whose unceremonious political assassination almost took me with it? The one that made me cry for an entire solo drive home from Shermer, Illinois, out of sheer frustration and disenfranchisement. That project?
So here is the thing: I am a vindictive pissy person sometimes and as you can tell from the opening paragraph, am still really fucking bitter about the whole ordeal. I mean, last year’s project should never have been tanked. It’s like telling someone who is dying of an infection that they could be cured with antibiotic and a $5 co pay and, well, let’s just see if it gets worse, ok? You might get better on your own, after all. You never fucking know.
Had I seen a movie character make this move, I would have groaned and called it predictable, but I was multi-tasking and talking on a phone call about the specs for my 2007 project, when I got the e-mail indicating that our patient from the 2006 project had just hit a Code Blue but been brought back from the dead. While words were actually coming out of my mouth about this big fucker of a 2007 project that affects something like 800 different people (normally my go to number for exaggerating is 800 something but in this case, it actually is in the 800 ballpark) I am dashing off a pissy snit to the SVP and the political assassin for the last project saying “See? See? I fucking told you this would happen. Nice!”
Less than eight hours later, I had the money and the sign off to fund the 2006 project.
I would gloat, but I’m too busy fucking myself over repeatedly.
The bonus here is that, man, do the ten and twelve hour days go quickly. I am making charts and talking to people left and right, designing scopes and talking about things being “scalable” which honestly, I don’t even know if I’m using that word correctly but it really sounds good and when I say it, everyone pinches their eyebrows and does the slow nod of consideration.
In other news, I’m pretty sure that there are more layoffs coming and if I were willing to bet, I’d say we’re going to hear about them in the next couple of weeks. The signs are there and the way of the Google is strong with this one.
God, I just made a Star Wars joke. This stupid scifi course is going to sap all of my cool.
Also, I’ve been keeping something from you. Not really on purpose, but rather because things haven’t been official yet. But now they are, so I can give you a peek at the staging area. Of course, if you’re a BFD reader, you already knew this. Catch my updates there three posts a day, Monday through Friday. Right now only some of the posts are signed “Weetabix” but if you know me at all, you’ll be able to tell, and the other writers (one of whom is the unbelievably talented Anne from Hello I Am Fat) are awesome. I kind of keep expecting someone to tap me on the shoulder and say “What the hell are you doing in here? Also, you say ‘fuck’ too much.” Which is totally true.
Next time on Weetabix’s diary, the amazing true adventures of her medical procedure that involves lasers and perhaps robots and if she is a very good girl, one doctor Gregory House, MfuckingD.
