Sabotaged.net

Archive for April, 2007

Not a friend in the world

My anxiety levels have sky rocketed after incurring some monster medical bills (hello high deductible!). I’m making every attempt to consolidate and stay on top of the many payments I will be making. In doing so, I’m trying to take advantage of an employee benefit that I’m supposed to have access to: payroll deduct. The hospital that owns my employer could take a small amount of money out of each paycheck I receive. This gives me the ability to make smaller payments over a longer period of time (no interest involved).

I was told yesterday by my HR lady that due to complications with two payroll systems (ours and the hospital’s) it probably isn’t going to be “worth her time” to set it up for me.

HBNP! Not worth her time? She’s human resources of a company 14 strong. She spends much of her day chatting with employees. Twice a week we receive pay. I know that certain things would not be automated as per her liking. However, her entire job is to help out employees and do the right thing by them. I’m currently working three jobs to take care of these bills and I’ve told her that the minimum payments to each of the institutions without payroll deduct (which is determined based on the balance I owe) are higher than I can afford each month individually.

If she doesn’t feel it’s worth her time to assist her employees, then perhaps it’s worth her time to give me a raise. Or a bonus. Or anything but a kick to the head.

I suppose I’m not so much upset by the payroll circumstances as I am by her indignation in telling me that it’s beneath her to spend a couple extra minutes every two weeks adjusting my payroll. Apparently she doesn’t have time, or maybe the interest, or she just doesn’t care.

Further proof of where I live

As seen on a church sign the other day:

“Get ‘R’ Done For God”

 

Welcome to Kansas.

It’s been a while. I hope you’re doing well.

Happy birthday old friend!

Consider this a formal request

If I die, please do not add my name to an “R.I.P.” list and pass it around MySpace. I would much rather that I not be remembered at all.

Contest

My brother and I were somewhere between 3 and 7 years old sitting the back of my mother’s beat up boat of a car. Bench seats. No seat belts. Torn fabric. Cigarette butts on the floor board. Hot Southern California day and our windows did not roll down. Alex would lean away from me, lifting a cheek up off of the seat and tooted. Nothing major. Just a ice breaker, of sorts.

I laughed hysterically. Leaning away from him, I shot one back at him. Slightly louder with a little more body to it. At this point, both of us here giggle machines. Our mother yelled back from the front seat that if we continued, we were to be recipients of some serious punishment. Bravery and rebelliousness won out, as Alex faced away from me, picked his rear up off of the seat and blasted me with enough wind to blow my hair off of my sweaty face. I distinctly remember rolling clean off of the back seat onto the floor with my back against the front passenger seat.

Mom reached back and swatted me. Scurrying back to my place, I did what I could to muster a mean, plastic melting, nose hair singeingfart. I stood up on the seat, glared at my brother with the devil’s eyes and gave him all that I had. It came out as a little “poot” but was more than enough to send us both into a laughing fit.  Mom shouted obscenities, threatening to pull over and leave us on the highway. Alex had troubles breathing, face red like the worn leather we sat on.

He stood up facing away from me and ripped one so loud and horrendous that I struggled to find away to plug my ears and nose simultaneously. Mom flipped around in her seat and caught him with a slap to his outer thigh. He immediately sat down, straight back, laughing like she never touched him.

When we got home, punishment was to be had. Alex got the worst of it, not so much for standing in his seat while we were driving, but for shitting his pants with that last fart.