Tag Archives: wtf

She can’t with me. 

I haven’t shared much since my old job. Which is a real travesty, since I have so many good stories lined up. (Don’t worry, screenshots are coming your way.)

Let’s just jump in real quick with a good share from today. I share my (tiny-used-to-be-a-storage-closet) office with two girls. This afternoon, between meetings I ran into the one we shall call Chiquita. She’s a nurse. 

So, Chiquita goes into a patient’s room with a giant needled shot. As she’s leaving I can hear her calling out, nicely: happy birthday. 

She sits down in our office. I turn towards her and say, inquisitively, “Did you just tell that patient happy birthday after giving her a shot?”

“While giving the shot. I said happy birthday!”

“Is it really her birthday?” I ask, stupidly. 

“Of course.”

As if Chiquita would never randomly say something weird. I am so dumb. Clearly. 

“And you shot her in the butt? On her birthday?” Why do I ask these things?

“I did.” 

“Usually when it’s your birthday, you usually get to DO the shooting in the butt. At least that’s what tv has taught me.”

She said she “can’t, with me.” And faced her computer screen with such conviction. As if she hadn’t thought of that herself. Or maybe she can’t (stop laughing) with me. (Because I’m so hilarious.) 

Best Friend Boundaries – What Even Is That?

Poor Bestie. This one happened this week. Autocorrect? Or maybe just me skipping words. Who knows. Either way.

text ps3

He’s lucky. Being my best friend comes with the perk of saying: what the actual fuck is she saying? at least once a day. If not more.

And now I can make “poop” an official tag on my blog. Great My parents – they’re so proud.

Disappointment

I’m at a funeral. I see this book.

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I was hoping I’d open it up and see blank pages or “mommy drinks a lot more” as an answer.

#disappointment as it’s just a book that really tries to explain death and funerals to children in a responsible and on-their-level way.

I still stand by my belief that they should make a smart ass one for people like me.

Please provide your best snarky answer to this book’s question to appease me.

Update: we just left. I am banned from funeral homes according to Bestie* and Alice* due to my spotting the “Losing Your Mom” pamphlet as we exited and loudly exclaiming “what, like at the mall?”

*names changed to protect the not so innocent as they also laughed.

Shark Tank Look Out

This isn’t a surprise to those who know me, but my phone is too full of pictures. I had to delete over 1500 last night to finally get the latest upgrade.

As I slowly go through them, I find some great screenshot pics. I imagine I started saving them to share with all you, but my new job is so amazing I forget to be snarky here.

This one is when Bestie was at his parents’ house and texted me about his father. I know the rest of the conversation was probably amazing. But I didn’t save that. ….of course

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That Shit Is Cray.

I learned two important lessons today: my phone only keeps 20 messages in a group (which means I can’t screen shot this one for you) and that #9 seems to be keeping true to her roots of “wtf” at my old job.

Here’s a rundown of what I saw in my phone on my break at new job.

Seamstress: #9 said if she eats Taco Bell she will be in the bathroom for days.
Me: She’s an oversharer. First day on the job;  I love serial killers. First day at new desk;  Taco Bell makes me run for the border – of the bathroom.
Seamstress: and she says “this shit is cray cray.”
Me:

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New Girl: And her friend who just got hired here and #9 say “love you!!!” when they see each other.
Me: Like at the office?  In public?
Seamstress: Yes. …and yes.
Me:

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Good to know nothing has changed in the 24 work hours since I left.

Introducing: My Replacement.

Well, my replacement is here at work. She was to be hired for another job, but when I put in my notice they offered her mine instead yesterday. Apparently she has no brain, as she said yes. So she’s job shadowing me the rest of the week. Yesterday, we decided we couldn’t call her New Girl since New Girl will always be New Girl. I had no idea how we would figure out a nickname for her so quickly. But never fear. I’ve established one.

She seems timid. And a bit overwhelmed. But maybe she’s just harnessing all of her energy. Because out of nowhere she whips around in her chair, as I’m on the phone and looks at New Girl and says: Do you know that you walk by 8-7 serial killers in your lifetime?

New girl stammers out an “uhhh…” and my replacement excitedly finishes her statement with “I love serial killers. I’m basically obsessed with them.”

While I can understand the allure of reading and learning about humans who are different than us? I would not share this on my first day. Before lunch. I hadn’t even had time to eat my peanut butter and jelly before I started to worry about my co-worker’s lives.

Allow me to introduce: Nine…..Because she could very well be the #9 serial killer I passed in my life.

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Edit: My mother just asked me how things were going via text. When I explained how I am going to call her nine, she responded with: Is she sitting close to you. Don’t tell her where you live

Sounds Legit

I am cleaning off my work phone for the inevitable, gtfo moment that will transpire next week when I tell them I found another job.

I dumped all my pictures and found some great screenshot moments I had saved and forgotten. Here’s a gem from SnarkSibling.

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Apparently I never responded when my they said my mother called 911 for my father. But most importantly, the succession of texts together? Fantastic.

I’m dying, I need a slurpee. Stat.