-- "SORRY YOU ARE NOT A WINNER" <-- Found on the inside of the
cap for the bottle of Ocean Spray orange juice I had for lunch. I
had it with chinese food (OK, Panda Express), so I consider it my fortune
for the day. It's one I'll cherish for sure.
Well, I'm feeling like shit. It's the first time in a month or so. My health isn't helping any -- that frigging cold that I contracted over the weekend is clinging to me a sex-crazed chimpanzee. Plus, work today has just sucked. I've been busy as hell, that fucking prick Duc has been treating me like I'm four, and a problem I thought had passed long ago has reared its butt ugly head.
Basically, the problem is like this -- back in September or so, this stupid company, Infotel, calls and says something about offering us a directory of all these law firms. I think I tried to get rid of them, but then I just relented and said send us the book. I planned to return it as soon as we got it, which I did, several weeks later.
Then I get a call back from Infotel saying that we can't return it -- I agreed to buy it. I was like, "Huh?" According to them, I agreed to order it, and apparently it's printed per order. So they said they send it again. Several weeks later they did. This time I just tossed the phone book-like directory away and hoped they'd go away. And they did. Well, until last week, when they wanted us to pay for this outstanding invoice. Duc's been harassing me about it (I haven't told anybody the real story, yet), and when I briefly spoke to someone from Infotel today, I told them I never saw the reshipment. The chick said she'd check to see if it got here (which it did). Meanwhile, I still need to come up with a plan to tell Duc and the Deej, b/c my fucking name is on the goddamn order, and there's no way I can just shrug my shoulders.
Fuck. I want to go home. But that'd mean leaving Duc around to find more things to bitch about. The guy is such a fucking phony. Heh, yesterday for "Staff Appreciation Day" we all got these gift boxes. We opened em' up to find a blue travel bag with our firm's logo on it. It might be useful at some point. The first words out of Duc's mouth were, "How come they don't have my name on it? They always put my name on it." Well shit, Duc, send it back up and tell the HR department that you want you want your fucking name on it while everyone else suffers without having their respective names on it! Gee, maybe next year they'll include a free blow job! But no, ass kissing Duc would never do that. He doesn't stand up to people, he just bitches and moans all the time to whoever is in earshot. Which means me.
Ray's mom still isn't home. She was supposed to come home Tuesday night. I even fixed the garbage disposal in anticipation. (OK, I pushed the button). But as of six this morning, she still wasn't in. I keep checking CNN to see if there's been any KAL tragedies over the Pacific recently. But there haven't been, luckily. Mebbe she hooked up with an ajushi in Seoul and is gettin' busy. Or mebbe she's just not very timely. That would explain Ray, heh.
The DJs on KROQ keep talking about New Year's, and what everybody is going to be doing, and how all the hotels are charging ten times their normal rates and that all the caterers in the county are already booked. I'm wondering if I'm should go ahead and buy some drugs from Drug Dealer John and save em', just in case he decides to mark up prices, or there's a run on them as New Year's approaches. And hey, are drug dealers Y2K compliant? What if there's a problem getting their shipment in? Tons of fresh ganja could be left rotting in a van somewhere b/c homeboy's distribution network broke down! Argh! What a tragedy that would be. Maybe I should fear Y2K.
Shit, I'm starting to worry that maybe my anti-depressants are hindering me from fully experiencing E. Something else to worry about, especially after I blew $180 on some more on Tuesday. Time to do some research...