Standing naked in front of the mirror last night while getting ready for a night out by myself at the art museum, I felt like my best days were behind me. I looked old and haggard. Perhaps it was down light from the overhead recessed can lights. I could help but wonder if it would have better to die in my twenties like most of my friends. They left this world while they were young and handsome while I was allowed to live and age. I’m not sure who got the better deal. Clearly, I’m having issues with aging.
Archive for August, 2013
This weekend marks the one year anniversary of our split. I’m in a much better place but I still feel fractured and damaged at times. I’m looking forward to the year ahead.
Julie accepted an incentive package to leave the company. Her last day is Friday. There’s a luncheon honoring her tomorrow. Everyone on the team is attending along with associates in the product house and R&D. Donations were solicited for a going away gift which will be presented at the luncheon.
Julie is one of the best business analysts on the team. She’s kind, considerate, intelligent and a great team player. Julie is the only person on my team who ever asked about my partner. She’s getting a great send off because she will truly be missed.
This is a huge contrast to Nann’s departure which was poorly attended. Nann was a hateful bitch who terrorized her peers. She was like working with a creature from the seventh level of hell. Nann not only threw people under the bus, she drove it over them. I was not sad to see her leave. I counted down the days until she left.
Nobody wants to work with a bitch, prick or sourpuss. Be remembered for your good deeds, not back stabbing or throwing your peers under the bus.
I was copied on an email that contained this sentence. The author never met a comma she liked.
There is always more to do that’s for sure and I’m really happy you were able to get the stuff done too Tom.
Can you believe she has an MBA?
I was pulling weeds in the garden on the north side of front yard after I mowed the lawn yesterday afternoon. The princess next door pulled into her driveway in her black X5 BMW.
Princess married well so she quit selling real estate after she had her first child. The nanny comes every day even though Princess is a stay at home mom. Princess also has a housekeeper and refers to her yard service as the gardener.
Princess wanders over to chat. After a few pleasantries she tells me about her ongoing search for a larger house. Princess tells me it’s too hard raising two children in a three bedroom house while she sifts a Nordstrom shopping bag and her Prada handbag one hand to the other. The nanny has to sleep on the sofa when she spends the night because there is no guest room. Her monologue is interrupted when her kids come running out of the garage followed by the nanny. I silently thank the universe for ending out visit.
I wanted to slap the bitch. I bet she has no idea that she comes off as entitled and spoiled. I grew up in a small three bedroom house. There were three kids so my brother and I shared a room. I seemed to turn out just fine, although, others may argue otherwise.
Cindi threw herself a belated birthday party on Sunday afternoon. She sent out an email invitation to sixty people three weeks before the party. A simple click on the evite allowed one to accept or decline the invitation. Twelve people responded to the invitation while about twenty showed up.
The caterer served a variety of street tacos along with a bar stocked with a variety of wines and beers. There was an overabundance of food and liquor since Cindi feared not having enough. It was a nice, but small party. I was happy to help Cindi celebrate her birthday.
What the fuck is wrong with people? Why would one show up for a party when they did not bother responding to the invitation? Why did so many people not respond when all it required was a quick click on a link in the evite? It’s rude and shows a lack of respect for the hostess. It seems that in the age of smart phones and social media people have forgotten about common courtesy and manners.