The Mop Bucket

I have a problem with lazy people. The problem I have with lazy people is that they are LAZY. You know the type. They see something that needs to be done, they don’t do it, pawn it off on someone else, hope someone else will do it if they ignore it, or do it and half-ass. Just enough to keep their job, but not enough to actually have to do any work.

Seems that some people at my place of employment weren’t aware of the problem I’m writing about. One person knows now. Because that person, let’s call her Alexa, is now no longer employed by my company, on account of me firing her lazy ass.

At the end of every shift, housekeeping type chores need to be done. No one wants to work in a dirty environment. So, of course, they need to sweep, mop, dust, wipe things down, and keep a generally tidy area. All of that gets done daily and is carefully managed. The issue is is not being able to put things back where they go, or having common sense.

For a week and a half, someone was mopping, washing the mop out, and leaning it up against the wall with the wet mop on the ground with the mop bucket next to it. UNDERNEATH THE HOOK THAT IS THERE SPECIFICALLY TO HANG A MOP ON. I know what you’re thinking. Alexa probably wan’t aware that it was there for that. It’s an odd-looking hook, she had been doing it the she did it since she started working for us, and most likely didn’t realize that the large label above the mop hook that says “MOP” is there to make sure the mop gets hung on the hook. The hook for the mop. The hook with a label on it, FOR A DAMNED MOP.

So I approached Alexa about the problem, let her know how mop hooks work, and told her why we do things a certain way. We don’t want puddles of water seeping through a crack where the floor and wall meet and creating mold or any other issue. Alexa apologized and told me she understood.

The next day the mop was on the hook! Unfortunately, the bucket was nowhere near the mop and a large puddle had formed overnight. Again, I confronted Alexa and tried to find the root of the problem.

“I didn’t know I had to put the bucket under the mop.”

I guess that’s my bad. I should have mentioned that too. Why would anyone think to just put the mop bucket underneath the wet hanging mop, or anywhere in the vicinity of the mop, especially after having a conversation about proper mop storage the afternoon before. So I gave her an in-depth training on how mops and buckets work and told her not to let it happen again. Because I have sooooooo much time for doing that kind of thing.

Another day passed.

The mop was on the floor. The bucket was closer to the mop. Next to it, actually.

Alexa will not be returning to work.

Don’t be lazy, use your brain, and try to think things through. No one has time for dumbassery. Noone wants to lose a job over dumbassery. And I don’t want it to affect my day so much that I write a blog post about your dumbassery. I even had to call it “The Mop Bucket.” Now, that’s lazy.

Fire me.

Stay classy, and I’ll see you at the next stop.

The Deathbed

My significant other is sick. She has a fever. It was 101.6. Then a couple hours later it was 102.7. Now it’s under 100. This all took place over the course of 8 or 9 hours. So clearly she’ll be dying soon. That’s right ladies, this guy will soon be on the market. Take a number.

That was a joke. Except for the sick part. She really thinks she’s dying even though she’s pretty much all better.

She texted me while I was at work and I dropped what I was doing to rush home and start the funeral arrangements. I walked in and there she was. Sickly, pale, sweating (surely not from the sweatpants and blanket she was under), so weak. She called me over with a tiny voice. I sat with her, rubbed her feet kept her warm when she was cold, and cooled her off when she was hot (which is always). I even ran to the store, Walmart of all places, to grab some stuff sick people need when they think they’re dying.

She’s pretty much just been lounging on the couch, relaxing, and watching TV with me. It’s been a great evening. We had to cancel some plans, but there will be time to fix that down the road. We’ve had a busy week, haven’t slept much, and a lot has happened. So, I guess she deserves a reprieve. Unfortunately, she’s sick during the reprieve. Sucks to be her.

All jokes and sarcasm aside, I was worried about her, got her all fixed up, she’s doing much better now, and just needs to sleep. A lot. So she may not be dying today. But when she is I’ll be right next to her waiting on her list of Walmart items. You know, because of love and all that jazz.

I hope the day never comes that she truly is truly on her deathbed, at least not in my lifetime. She’s too awesome for anyone to not get to experience her presence.

Anyway, I’m tired and I need to get her showered and in bed.

Stay classy, and I’ll see you at the next stop.

The Quitter

There are many reasons to quit your job. Maybe you aren’t being treated fairly. Perhaps you aren’t making enough. There’s a chance you just aren’t the right for for the job.

There are also many ways to quit your job. Throw things around and slam doors. Yell at the parties you feel have wronged you. Just don’t show up.

Today I had the opportunity to deal with a quitter. Not only did this person quit, she quit on the worst day of the worst week of the worst month. Oh, at the worst time of the day.

Around lunchtime I was pulled into a meeting with a shipping supplier our company uses. After my meeting I checked the time, noticed the quitter was missing, and wrote it off to her being gone for lunch. After all she was clocked out.

An hour went by, I waited for her to clock back in shortly. We have a ton of orders and a ton of wholesale that needs to be done on top of that. So I was swamped. I lost track of time when the owner/founder called me from his office.

Turns out the quitter lived up to her moniker. She clocked out for lunch and decided to just never go back to work again. She also took it upon herself to TEXT the owner/founder and let him know there were no hard feelings. Because she has such good morals and even better work ethics.

I’m sorry. I don’t care why you quit a job. If you don’t want to do the work then I don’t want you there anyway. I hold myself and my employees to a very high standard and I have zero tolerance for anything less than what I expect.

Now, I know exactly why the quitter quit and what her thoughts and feelings were. I read the text she sent. By the way, the quitter’s text was only sent to one person. I, the one person she should have texted, was not that person.

So the quitter left in the middle of the day, left all of her current work half-finished and all over the place, did not say a word until long after the fact, and left the entire department in a pretty bad bind on the worst day possible. The worst part of all of this is that the whole situation pissed me off and put me in a pretty bad mood, because I don’t have enough to deal with on a daily basis.

I’m basically just venting here, so don’t take any of this to heart. Interviews have been done, more of them will take place tomorrow and Friday, and I will have two new people in the department first thing Monday morning. So it all works out for the best, especially since I had plans to terminate the quitter at the end of this month anyway.

Oh, as a side note, if you are going to quit your job, please inform the appropriate parties. Be an adult. Tell someone. Even finish out the day, get those extra few hours on your last paycheck. The one you have to come in to pick up in person since it’s your last one. Hell, I don’t know, maybe even put in and honor your two weeks notice since you care so much about the company and those of us that run it.

Such is life, we all move on, the world keeps turning, and now it’s bedtime. I quit.

Stay classy, and I’ll see you at the next stop.

The Deadline

I’ve had many jobs, all of which have had important deadlines to adhere to. My current job is no different. Several deadlines a day, weekly deadlines, monthly deadlines, even annual deadlines. This makes me very busy, very tired, and very focused.

One deadline in particular expired today. I’m always very prepared for anything that comes my way and I tend to finish whatever is thrown at me way ahead of time. This makes me look good, my team look good, and the company look good. So today I was finishing up some random daily task when I get approached by the guy in charge of operations for the company.

Take a guess as to why he approached me. To tell me I’m doing a great job? To give me a raise? To let me know that he wants me to take on more responsibility because I’m always ahead of the game? To shake my hand and hand over the company?

NO.

“Do you want to tell me why you’ve missed the last three deadlines you’ve been assigned?”

I was clearly surprised, the blood rushed to my face, I immediately went over everything I’ve done in the last month in my head and came up short. I’d done everything asked of me and then some and I’d done it extremely well and, as usual, ahead of time. I’m a very organized individual and I document and track everything I do.

So how in the world could I have missed something? Prepare to be enlightened.

The operations manager was out of town last Thursday and Friday and somehow missed any communication I had sent him. Obviously this guy gets a ton of emails every day so I can’t fault him too much. But he’s been doing that job for years. He should know at this point that he needs to go through his emails before he gets in someone’s face about not doing their job. Especially if said person is known for always doing their job correctly and ahead of time. Especially if he wasn’t in the office for two days, followed by a weekend. Especially if he had all day the following Monday to actually go through anything he may have missed. Especially if he ATTENDED AND RAN THE WEEKLY MEETING WITH ALL DEPARTMENT HEADS THAT HE HAS BEEN IN CHARGE OF SINCE THE FOUNDING OF THE COMPANY HE OWNS.

I’m probably being bitter. I’m sure he had a lot going on. Maybe a family emergency. Maybe something crazy stressful that had him preoccupied. Maybe it was an off day. It could be any number of reasons.

But I don’t have time to focus on all that right now. I have a deadline to make.

Stay classy, and I’ll see you at the next stop.

The Staring Contest

Seeing as how my last post was a little harsh, I’ll try to keep this one light.

We, myself and my better half, have two cats. One is Grady. Grady is super cool. He sleeps a lot, likes to play, eats everything, loves to cuddle and love up on people, and has the personality of the guy at the bar that everyone knows and never has to buy a drink.

And then there’s the other one. Gracie. Gracie is a manx, skittish, sleeps sporadically and usually not when I’m asleep, and has the personality of Garfield in a world where lasagna doesn’t exist and every day is Monday.

The most obnoxious aspect of the special bond I have with Gracie is her staring habit. I know, cats stare at things. This cat stares at ME. All day and night. From any distance or angle. At every hour of the day or night. If I glance at her, she’s already staring. Gracie is probably staring at me as I write this sentence.

Let me draw a picture. One night, I’m cuddled up in bed with my special lady. 2:30 AM, I wake up for whatever reason. I open my eyes and lift my head. On the other side of my girlfriend is Gracie, the the demon from Hell, sitting up, just staring directly into my soul, which I’m sure she thinks will be delicious. I have pictures of that moment. I have pictures of many moments. She sticks her head out from around the edge of a door, sits in a corner and stares at me, lays down on my better half and stares into my eyes.

Gracie will probably try to kill me at some point. On the other hand, she also tries to fight Grady every night and loses, on an epic scale. So I’m not super worried. Until she drags me into the underworld.

But I love Grady and Gracie equally. And they love me just as much. At least they do when it’s time to eat.

Stay classy, and I’ll see you at the next stop.

The Breatharian

I’ve been very good in the past about not calling out individuals by name. Especially when it comes to my rants about morons. I at least try to stick to a group of people and just use the name of the group (we all remember my flat-earth rant). My other half and I have a fake Instagram account that we use to make fun of basic bitches doing all the stereotypical basic bitch things, to the point of us creating our own basic bitch moments and hashtags. We don’t post often and we think it’s hilarious.

One lovely afternoon, as we lounged around on our couch, we came across the Instagram account of a young woman claiming to be a breatharian. This is where I’m going to lose a lot of patience and start my rant and call out an individual by name. Please forgive any typos or run-ons in my tirade.

AUDRA BEAR. This, person, is the idiot who runs the village entirely filled by village idiots. Many of you can come back and tell me that if they are all idiots, then none of them are idiots. Keep your logical “if, then” trash to yourself, you’ll agree with me by the end of this.

Again, AUDRA BEAR IS AN IDIOT.

Let’s start with what being a breatharian is all about.

A breatharian is a person who has no common sense and has lost all ability to think clearly due to a lack of nutrition. No, that’s not right…

A breatharian is defined as an individual who has no idea what it means to be a healthy human being and is dumb enough to think their ideology is the only way to… No, that’s not it either…

A breatharian thinks it’s possible to reach a level of consciousness where one can obtain all sustenance from the air or sunlight. Damn it, that’s not it either…

Wait… actually that IS the definition. Turns out I was right on all 3 counts.

These people are under the impression that they don’t need to eat. Or drink. Like, at all. Just breathe. And be in the sun. THAT’S IT. Oh! These people also think it’s super healthy to live that way. For a very long extended period of time. And by that, I mean several days, until they die. Which is exactly what has happened to EVERY ONE that has tried to live by breatharian lifestyle.

By now, many of you may have looked up Audra Bear, the heroine of our story. She seems to be alive and “well” and living her best life, despite being a breatharian and living a pranic lifestyle for several years. This is because she is NOT a true breatharian, which is unfortunate because I’d be okay if the lifeguard of natural selection kicked her ass out of the public domain that is the human gene pool.

Audra Bear has many posts, videos, pictures, and stories claiming she is a steadfast breatharian. She has actually claimed, recently, that she has fasted for 97 days on nothing but the sun and breathing techniques.

She’s also a dumbass who goes on to claim that she does her breathing techniques and takes in sunlight while sustaining nutrition through juices and smoothies. What? I’m sorry, I thought I was writing about a breatharian. My bad, turns out she’s a liar who doesn’t know what being a breatharian actually is.

Now, I don’t care if you want to be a breatharian and do whatever fasts and breathing techniques and sun-soaking that make you feel better about yourself. But if you’re going to do it, then fucking do it. Don’t say you’re going to do it and then do some sneaky shit to make it sound good.

So now we have a breatharian who also juices and makes #liquidarian posts.

After a little more digging, meaning more hours of making fun of idiots on Instagram, my lovely partner and I discover that she is also a vegan. That’s right, folks. A breatharian, who only takes in juices and smoothies. And plants and shit.

Okay, why not dig a little more, right? We now have a breatharian-liquidarian-vegan, who only takes in sunlight and air. Today, I found a picture of her drinking Starbucks, at a Starbucks. It wasn’t a juice. Or a smoothie. Or a plant. Or air. She was outside though, so I guess she gets points for the sun part of it. But you see where I’m going with this.

This is my favorite part of the story. In the midst of our sleuthing, we discovered a post where our main character dissected her name. Mind you, this was on the internet for the whole world to see. Let me draw this out the best I can.

AUDRA BEAR

AU=Gold

RA=Sun (cuz of the Egyptians and whatnot)

BEAR-Bearer

Audra Bear is a golden light-bearer.

She wrote all of that on her account. I did NOT make any of that up.

I know, I know. You guys are super smart and probably noticed that nothing was put in for the letter “D.” I noticed that as well. Maybe she forgot it was there. Maybe her lack of nutrition has gotten the better of her and she’s gone loopy. Maybe it’s a silent “D” and it stands for “DUMBFUCKERY.” I’ll let you decide, I’ve already made my decision.

My laptop battery is dying, and I’m struggling to keep all of this rant flowing in a semi-organized structure, so I’m going to put a pin in it for tonight.

Hopefully all of you are on my side on this. It isn’t often that I’m going to call out someone specifically for doing dumb stuff, but this had to happen. I mean, living off air and sunlight alone? Even the guy who founded the whole breatharian ideology said it’s a healthy way to live, IF YOU DO IT RIGHT WITH PROPER FASTING WHILE SUSTAINING THE NUTRITION YOUR BODY NEEDS. Seriously, if that dude said it then get your head out of your ass and stop doing moronic things for likes. Take your anorexic ass home. Get out of the sun, eat a pizza, and read a book. Get off the internet.

I’m all about living a clean and healthy lifestyle. I promote it and want everyone to live their best lives. That doesn’t mean starve your body of everything until your head goes crazy and then get on one of the biggest social media outlets in the world and influence others to live the way you do. all you will die. And to be honest, we will read the article, or maybe only the headline, and shake our heads at your brief, but fatal, insanity.

I’m going to go make a smoothie.

Stay classy, and I’ll see you at the next stop.

The Comeback

It’s been way too long, a couple of months at least. Consider this the first post in my renewed attempt at writing at least once a day. A lot has changed, some has stayed the same, and all of it has been for the better.

The format is the same you know and love: dry sense of humor, jokes you may or may not get, observations and experiences in my work and personal life, and the uncanny ability to come off as a general asshole, major dick, private douche (more bad jokes) regardless of the point I’m making or the fact that you agree with me.

First off, I have a new job. I get to work with a ton of people. It’s great, I think. You know how people are. I also get to be in charge of them, so we’ll see how that goes. On the bright side, I’m home every night, I get to cook every night, I get to see the old lady every night. On the other hand, no daily cross-country travel. Not that I don’t have a million complaints on my 10 minute commute to and from work every day (I’m talking to you silver 2003 Malibu that takes up 3 lanes on a 2 lane road in rush hour traffic). But all that other stuff makes up for it.

Next, I’ve more or less settled down and gotten used to the home and work life without the nuisances of a different hotel every night, fast food for every meal, and the insane hours that drive lesser people mad. On top of all that, there’s a cat next to me on the armrest of this couch so I’m going to type a bunch of nonsense to appeal to the cat lovers out there that think it’s adorable when cats walk all over keyboards: adjklfhdsakjabs;dca n sd lj lasdflkjkdf s dfh;ks ;k jsdkf;j sadkf. Gotta get those likes. Definitely wasn’t the cause of a very brief writer’s block and a poor excuse to take up space in this post.

Now that all of that is out of the way, I’ll just say that I’m sorry I haven’t written in a couple months, like I’m the only interesting person on the entire internet and you could figure out anything else in the world to do.

So begins my daily posting. Look out for tomorrow’s post where I rant for quite a while about the idiocy that is being a breatharian. You’re really going to enjoy it.

Stay classy, and I’ll see you at the next stop.