Yep, you guessed it. I am the newest member of middle management.


The interview went better than I thought, evidently. I was completely shocked I got the job. I'm a bit concerned that people won't take me seriously since I can be such a goofball. In a way, I'm more concerned about what my coworkers will think than what my higher-ups will. I know what it's like to work for someone that management thinks is fabulous but I think is clueless. It's frustrating.

But, regardless, for better or worse, I am the new shift supervisor for afternoons. That's cool in and of itself because it was a rotating position. I would have hated working so early. And I'm more comfortable on this shift since I've been there so long. 


It becomes effective Monday, then I'll have a week of training with a supervisor, and then I'm on my own until the other one comes back -- about a month or so. It'll be a lot of just trying to keep my head above water, I think. Talk about trial by fire.


Ending thought: Can you have a trial by fire when you're drowning? I think I'm going to find out.


Oh, and if anyone happens to be running some homespun experiments on cloning, drop me a line.

Interview's today. Wish me luck.

My, oh, my, have things been nuts. I feel embroiled in some crazy work drama. And not even of my own making this time.


Long story short, a supervisor will be off for 6 weeks, and another one just put in her two weeks' notice. Nice timing, jackass.


The good point of all this? There is a supervisor position open. The bad news? I can't decide if I want it or not. Too late now, since I already applied. But, good God, what if I don't get it? Or...what if I do? This is a major responsibility-taking on my part even considering applying, since I enjoy my current lack of real responsibility. And I have a lot of good friends that work there, and I know that's going to be an issue in the interview. I'm going to do my best to make it known that not being a raging cunt isn't necessarily a bad thing. Sometimes, when people like you, it helps.


But do I want it? Those are the thoughts I fall asleep to lately. So I just, in my lackadaisical way of praying, say, "God, let the best thing happen." Whatever that may be. And then I'll just have to live with the consequences...whatever they may be.


If I do get it, I think it will be a good thing. I am a little concerned because there are people who have been there longer, but it would be solid afternoons, and not many of them work that shift. I think it would only cause a problem with one or two people on my shift, and if it does, I just keep telling myself it's their problem, not mine.


So, my 2 semi-faithful readers, think good thoughts across the ocean this way. This week, I'm gonna need it. 


And next week. And the week after that. 'Cause even if I don't get this promotion, we'll still be down one supervisor and working with a green one. Oy.


But I had a dream that a wedding episode of "Dynasty" was filming in a hotel room where I was spending the night, which also had a casino, so there are definitely high points these days.


Hope all of you are well.

Love and warm thoughts to funky and her family.

It's amazing to me sometimes how a person you hardly even know can impact your life. And I'm not talking about someone who's made a huge impact on society as a whole and you feel the trickle-down effect. Just somebody you sort of know, off in the periphery of your past somewhere.

I found out today that the brother of a friend of mine from high school died. I'm not sure exactly how old he was, but he was younger than 40. It started me on one of my fabulous mental rants about death, which is always a good time. Mostly it was, what would happen if Dana or my mother died? I barely survived it when my dad died almost four years ago, and Mom and I are a lot closer than Dad and I were. And Dana -- can't even describe that relationship. Never had anyone mean to me what she does.

And then I think about Friend's family. No parent should have to bury their son. It just seems against the natural order of things. And Friend and her brother were very close -- at least, they were when I knew her...which, granted, was 10 years ago, but I figure they were still close. I remember in 8th grade, we had to write an essay about the person we admired most. Friend chose her brother.

I chose my grandmother, who also died this year. Uh-oh, someone better warn the others...



But then the totally evil and selfish part of me comes out to play. I think that I should probably go to the funeral home or at least send a card or have a mass said or something. But then I remember how hurt I was that neither she nor her family did anything when Dad died. Not a phone call, card, visit, flowers -- nothing. I had friends who came from over 2 hours away for a prayer service, and one of them didn't even believe in God. Friend and I had known each other since first grade and were close from a dozen years or more. Our families knew each other from church, and we didn't live far from each other, either. And nothing. And, boy, did it piss me off.

Petty? Yes. Childish? Sure. Immature? You betcha. But human and totally real? Unfortunately. 

Why do we care about things like that? Why does that still hurt my feelings after all these years? And why am I letting it influence my decision about whether or not I should go to the funeral home? 

I know in my head I should do what I think is right, whatever that is. But the hurt is still there, and it pisses me off.


So a man that I barely knew dies today, and it has occupied my thoughts for the half-dozen hours of the day that I've known about it. I hope that he's not scared or afraid or worried anymore, or whatever you are when you're dying. I can only assume, as I haven't experienced much of that myself. My grandmother wasn't in her right mind when she was going downhill, and my dad died unexpectedly. I'm grateful that my only experiences with the process of dying have been tangential, and I realize that, in my ways, I am lucky.

But Friend's brother, S., was presumably surrounded by loved ones -- people who got to say goodbye to him as he was leaving. In that way, a lucky man.

What are your favorite and least favorite words? Any reasons why?

When asked this question, I think of "How I Met Your Mother" and Lily's aversion to the word "moist." I do not like the word "box." Or "provocative." For different reasons.

Favorites: fabulous. outstanding. splendid. All good answers to "How are you?" Why be boring? And why tell the truth? No one cares if you're really feeling crappy.