I need a randomizer
Ya ever have the urge to write... but don't have a topic to write on? I need to find a site out there that just gives random topics: "the topic is: Giant Shrimp... Myth or Oxymoron? Now go! Talk amongst yourselves!" Writer's block is almost as bad as Artist's block (I've had that really bad as well... the Muse is a fickle bitch. One moment, you just can't get the ideas out fast enough, and then just as suddenly, you're as dry as the Gobi Desert); you just have this urge to get ideas out, but nothing is cohesive enough to put down to words.
I know I've mentioned elsewhere that an ex of mine once complained (well, complained a lot of times, really) that I didn't open up and communicate enough. I had to explain that if I were to just always say the first thing off the top of my head at all times I would sound like a sociopathic schitzoid with Tourette's Syndrome. This, oddly, didn't do much to appease my ex. Ah well, there's a reason why we're ex's now... and why, in the long run, I don't have too many romantic relationships (and those I do have don't tend to last long). It's not a lack of communication on my part... it's just that I don't communicate in the general fashion. Give me a keyboard, give me a mouse and electronic 3D software... -that's- how I communicate. Ask me to... talk? Nope. Not so good at that.
Yeah, I wasn't really looking to talk about that... but I guess it's a topic. Feh. Look guys! Phrogie's bitching about how her ex doesn't understand her. Again.
Actually, no. I'm not. The fact that I'm misunderstood is a fact that I've lived with a good portion of my life... and one I'm generally okay with. If I think I'm going to be misunderstood, I take great pains in explaining myself. I simply don't bitch about how my ex doesn't understand me... I'm more likely to bitch about how my ex was more interested in changing me from something I am, into something more to her liking. It kinda worked for awhile, too. At least until I caught on. Of course, by then it was took late. Ah well. There were other issues, of course... and more that have come to light since then. In the end, everything happens for a reason. We got together for a reason, we've parted company for another reason.
I do have some kvetching about work that I need to air. One: thee's this kid that's been coming in (I say "kid" but he's got to be in his mid-20's or older) the past couple nights. Buddy's with my coworker, which in and of itself isn't a problem. Obnoxious as all hell tho, which is. Ego the size of Cleveland, and about as dumb as a stump, from what I can tell. Tells me about this photo of himself he brought into Staples to have blown up... and how they did this horrible job... that it just couldn't ever be made larger than it was. Anywhere. So, I raise my eyebrow, and tell him that's what he got for going there instead of here. He asks me how large can he blow it up, and we get into a conversation about sizes and such... and I tell him his best bet would be to bring in the frame and let us just blow it up to that size.
So of course he comes back tonight, photo in hand (which was grainy as all hell, and I explain that as grainy as it is, the grain marks will just come out that much bigger)... no frame. Aparently, he forgot that part of our conversation. So... we discuss again. And I tell him the price (which I also did last night... aparently he forgot that as well)... $10/sq foot. He's talking a poster sized print along the lines of 64"x64" and asks me what the cost is. Now, I have my hands full with another job, and I'm not looking to find a calculator at this point. I tell him "let me put it this way, if you were going to go at 60"x60" which is five foot by five foot, then you're looking at 25 square feet, which equates to about $250. Before tax.
Ego-boy, who wants a 25 square foot poster of himself for his bedroom wall decides that's too much money (I believe his comment was a "hells to the no" accompanied by the dropped jaw and popped eyes). Hmn. Guess he doesn't feel he's worth that much to himself after all.
Whatever.
I'm also not pleased with the idea that I had to go into the city earlier this week for a district-wide "town hall" meeting... and then my manager calls for a store meeting in the same week. You know, I have a habit of saying "Sleep is Over Rated" a lot lately. I need to stop saying that... people are starting to belive me. I'm tired. Very tired. And I just want to lay in bed for a full day's rest without interruption. No phone calls, no text messages. Just sleep, wake up when I wake up, and lay in bed for a bit before dozing off again.
-sigh- Another mouthful or two of Mountain Dew and back to work.
Bah.
I know I've mentioned elsewhere that an ex of mine once complained (well, complained a lot of times, really) that I didn't open up and communicate enough. I had to explain that if I were to just always say the first thing off the top of my head at all times I would sound like a sociopathic schitzoid with Tourette's Syndrome. This, oddly, didn't do much to appease my ex. Ah well, there's a reason why we're ex's now... and why, in the long run, I don't have too many romantic relationships (and those I do have don't tend to last long). It's not a lack of communication on my part... it's just that I don't communicate in the general fashion. Give me a keyboard, give me a mouse and electronic 3D software... -that's- how I communicate. Ask me to... talk? Nope. Not so good at that.
Yeah, I wasn't really looking to talk about that... but I guess it's a topic. Feh. Look guys! Phrogie's bitching about how her ex doesn't understand her. Again.
Actually, no. I'm not. The fact that I'm misunderstood is a fact that I've lived with a good portion of my life... and one I'm generally okay with. If I think I'm going to be misunderstood, I take great pains in explaining myself. I simply don't bitch about how my ex doesn't understand me... I'm more likely to bitch about how my ex was more interested in changing me from something I am, into something more to her liking. It kinda worked for awhile, too. At least until I caught on. Of course, by then it was took late. Ah well. There were other issues, of course... and more that have come to light since then. In the end, everything happens for a reason. We got together for a reason, we've parted company for another reason.
I do have some kvetching about work that I need to air. One: thee's this kid that's been coming in (I say "kid" but he's got to be in his mid-20's or older) the past couple nights. Buddy's with my coworker, which in and of itself isn't a problem. Obnoxious as all hell tho, which is. Ego the size of Cleveland, and about as dumb as a stump, from what I can tell. Tells me about this photo of himself he brought into Staples to have blown up... and how they did this horrible job... that it just couldn't ever be made larger than it was. Anywhere. So, I raise my eyebrow, and tell him that's what he got for going there instead of here. He asks me how large can he blow it up, and we get into a conversation about sizes and such... and I tell him his best bet would be to bring in the frame and let us just blow it up to that size.
So of course he comes back tonight, photo in hand (which was grainy as all hell, and I explain that as grainy as it is, the grain marks will just come out that much bigger)... no frame. Aparently, he forgot that part of our conversation. So... we discuss again. And I tell him the price (which I also did last night... aparently he forgot that as well)... $10/sq foot. He's talking a poster sized print along the lines of 64"x64" and asks me what the cost is. Now, I have my hands full with another job, and I'm not looking to find a calculator at this point. I tell him "let me put it this way, if you were going to go at 60"x60" which is five foot by five foot, then you're looking at 25 square feet, which equates to about $250. Before tax.
Ego-boy, who wants a 25 square foot poster of himself for his bedroom wall decides that's too much money (I believe his comment was a "hells to the no" accompanied by the dropped jaw and popped eyes). Hmn. Guess he doesn't feel he's worth that much to himself after all.
Whatever.
I'm also not pleased with the idea that I had to go into the city earlier this week for a district-wide "town hall" meeting... and then my manager calls for a store meeting in the same week. You know, I have a habit of saying "Sleep is Over Rated" a lot lately. I need to stop saying that... people are starting to belive me. I'm tired. Very tired. And I just want to lay in bed for a full day's rest without interruption. No phone calls, no text messages. Just sleep, wake up when I wake up, and lay in bed for a bit before dozing off again.
-sigh- Another mouthful or two of Mountain Dew and back to work.
Bah.
posted by Phrogie at
2:51 AM
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