TC the Terrible

I use this space to bitch about my job. A lot. The problem today is my new computer.

This is the fourth machine I’ve had in the past year.  The first boat anchor machine was so old that Dell no longer lists it on their support web site.  After nine months I got upgraded to a brand spanking new HP.  Which was a pretty good deal.  Not as fast as my home machine but I’m not burning porn DVDs at the office anymore so no big deal.

Two weeks into the deal I get swapped again.  This time for a Dell laptop that is only slightly smaller than my 19 inch monitor.  Seriously.  When I raised a shit storm about the swap I was told by my boss that he sees me as “one of our main travelers” and I really needed a lap top.

Fine, I said.  Then give me a laptop for travel (and it can be a piece of crap) but let me keep my desktop that is capable of keeping more than two spreadsheets open at a time.  No, he said.   Twice.  Loudly.  Travelers get laptops, office support gets desktops.  Thus the worthless ass clown at our front office gets my new machine, I get Captain America’s shield to lug around the country.

Now I get word that my machine is being pulled again. For another laptop.  No word on how old this one is going to be.

This ordeal wouldn’t be so bad, but it means that I have to deal with our IT wunder kids each time.  And since they won’t simply re-image the new machine to match my old machine I have to spend an entire day moving files, having my software re-installed, re-loading shortcuts, favorites, passwords and all that other fun crap.  Of course somewhere in the middle of that I’m expected to get my job done like nothing is going on.

Maybe that’s why I get that huge ass check twice a month.  For doing my damned job.  That’s a strange concept.

There’s not much that I miss about Memfrica.  But I damned sure miss the food.  And the sweet tea.

All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy, or so the saying goes.  So what does a week with out blogging make me?  A normal person.  At least for a while.  It also gives me the time to learn a few things.  Life lessons if you will.

• Never give a seven year old an iPod with speakers for Christmas.  Or at least load it with decent music before you wrap it.   The 32nd (yes I counted) playing of “Baby Got Back” in two days drove me over the edge.
• Remote control airplanes were built with Dads in mind.  Period.
• It takes a full fifth of Jack Daniels whiskey to get through two days with my in-laws.  At one point even THE BOY asked for a Jack and Coke.
• Boarding school for girls is a great idea.  Congress should give parents of 12 year old girls tax breaks AND vouchers to send the little wenches to boarding school.
• THE WOMAN is the hottest female on the planet and I’m damned lucky to be married to her.  If she ever recovers from her head trauma I’m out in the cold quicker that I can say “Oh shit.”
• The boy that wants to be my son-in-law tried to get on my good side by giving me a flask for Christmas.  I reminded him that it was empty, thus of limited worth.  Of course if he’d given it to me full I’d pounded him for buying liquor while under age.  He never gets to win.  It’s good to be the Dad.
• The first day back after a week off sucks no matter what you do for a living.
• “Some Assembly Required” my ass.  It takes three hours and a full tool bag to put anything together.

Despite all my rantings about Christmas I had a good time this year for the most part.  I’d like to have seen MY MOM, FDFM and SDFM – and not the step-father-in-law – but other than that things were good.  I got to sleep more than four hours a night.  The food was good, I drank more than I normally do, and the kids got a big kick out of the crap that Santa brought.