Make it Fine in 2009!

It's been too long since my last post. Unfortuantely 2009 doesn't look like its going to be any easier than 2008. I am jam packed at work this week, although I'd prefer to be jam packed than layed off I suppose... Still, with two trips out of town, portfolio review, annual POAs, department staff retreat, and my city campaign launch event all in January, I'm about to pull my hair out. And now I just learn that I'm expected to run a F-ing workshop at the staff retreat! I'm about to go insane. Happy New Year!

Pissed Off - Grab Bag

I was standing over the sink last night washing dishes. You know... doing my little part to help out around the house. After a long hard day of bringing home the bacon I also try to clean that same bacon grease out of the pan that night. Anyway, I'm standing over the sink and I get to the part I hate the most. And when I say hate - I really can't understate how vile this is to me. Revulsion is not too strong a word. Loath is actually pretty spot on! I LOATH WOODEN F-ING SPOONS! The shit that get's caked onto those things is like a bond created at an atomic level! I know why you ladies like the wooden spoons for cooking... they don't scratch the pan; they don't conduct heat, blah - blah - blah! But trying to scrub dried egg, dried soup, or any other food filth off of those bloody things is an exercise in futility. I have to resort to using my own damn finger nails and - if I may peel back the curtain just a bit on my own inner psychosis - touching the food stained remains of dirty dishes is the essence of repulsive to me!


How about those stupid ass travel industry counter attendants? Perhaps it’s because I travel so much for my work but I've run across my fair share of these sons a bitches. In fact I had one a few weeks ago down in SoTex. When I travel I keep a tight schedule so I have very little patience for the out of ordinary delay! Anyway, I'm turning in a rental car. It's the end of a VERY long day and my frazzled wife and kids are waiting outside. I hand over the keys for the lady to provide me a receipt for the rental. She starts to tap on her counter key-board. Clickity, clack, clack, clackity, click, click. She pauses for a moment and then goes at it again for about five freakin’ minutes. More Clickity, clack, clack and Clackity, click, click. She stops and frowns before continuing for another impressive sonata. Mind you, she doesn't say a damn thing to me, but I can tell there’s a problem. So I wait and wonder when she's going to admit it. It goes on, and on, and on... until another five minutes go by and I have to say something.

Me: "Is there a problem?"

Lady: "Well I'm having trouble getting our rental out of the hold status."

Me: "How can it be in a hold status, I just rented it?"

Lady: "Well I upgraded you yesterday and I meant to take it off of hold but I couldn't."

Me: "So what about today made you think it would magically work?"

Lady: "Well I guess I just have to call regional and have them do it."

Me: "Do I really need to be here for this."

Lady: "Well, I assume you need a receipt."

Me: "Fax it to me... goodbye."


I have one final story for you today, and this is the pièce de résistance, the coup de grâce if you will. Dear heavenly Lord I almost throttled the woman in front of me in line at my local WalMart last week. I did my best to pick the line that might clear the fastest. It was late and I wanted to get home. As luck would have it there was a middle aged lady in a snappy blue blazer with about twenty items, so I jumped in line behind her. Little did I know she would stop the check-out girl for EVERY DAMN ITEM to inform she had a coupon. But wait! It gets better. You see she didn't have a stack of coupons. She had a stack of magazines. She had to flip through each one, page by page, find the coupon, extend her arms over the counter, without relinquishing the damn coupon, have the checker zap it, before placing the magazine back in her stack. She did this EVERY time! I almost had a fucking aneurism right then and there. But WAIT! It gets even better! Finally the checker rang up the total and this smartly dressed lady pulls out her check book. At this point I am scrutinizing ever move she makes so the fact that she writes the stinking check like it's calligraphy for a wedding invitation forces me to curse her under my breath. She deftly hands over the pristinely written check to the checker only to have the WalMart data base DECLINE the method of payment!!! Wonderful! Whip out that credit card and be done with it, right? Oh no... She proceeds to write another check. The checker objects but the woman insists this is a different method of payment... after all... it's a different damn check!!!!! It is taking every ounce of restraint I have to not knock this woman's block off. The checker stupidly accepts the 2nd check only for it to be declined as well. No shit, Sherlock Holmes! So what does the woman do? She leaves her groceries at the counter and tells her that she will return later with payment.

Dear sweet heavenly baby Jesus! Save me from a damn stroke!

I need a hero!

Okay, so you'll never guess what happened on Tuesday. I walk out of my office on the one year anniversary of my first day at this job and I notice a campus police officer taking a statement from a student who had her car window shattered. Apparently there were some break-ins in the parking lot that my office shares with student parking. Then I notice a strip of metal on the outside of my driver's side door had been pulled out. It was bent and sticking out at an odd angle. It looked as if the hoodlums attempted to break into my car as well.

Luckily they didn't gain entry so I guess I have that going for me, but my deductible on this type of thing is $250 so that sucks. The most shocking thing is that both my car and the student's car had this happen to them in the middle of the afternoon. And this is a very busy parking lot. Lots of students and staff are constantly walking through it to go from one end of campus to the other.

I have to say I kept a surprisingly level head about the whole thing. Maybe it's because I was just thankful to not be the girl with the shattered window. Maybe it's because I hadn't started drinking yet that day. Still, I have to say things like this make you wish for justice. Luckily I came home to find my son ready to spring in to action. After he learned what happened to my vehicle he and the family dog were ready to help. God love 'em.

365 days and counting...

It was one year ago today that I started my new job at the University. It was a happy time because the old job and old boss was something out of your worst nightmare. The new job and new boss where really ideal and I was excited to begin a new phase in my career. Unfortunately experience has taught me that all good things usually come to an end and the warts begin to show within the first year. I am ecstatic to report that while the University is not perfect, the luster has not worn off of my work and my chain of command still proves to be as fantastic as ever. Of course this doesn't preclude something negative from ever happening... I'm just thrilled it hasn't happened already!

Happy 365 days to me!

A Chance Encounter with The Dick

I was in the campus bookstore with about eight coworkers when I noticed a famous former NFL star browsing the sweatshirts. Now you have to understand, I'm not one of those lucky types that always has a funny story about this famous person I saw at the airport or that famous person I bumped into at the coffee shop. I worked in LA for THREE MONTHS and never even saw a single famous person!

So you can imagine my giddy surprise of seeing another former NFL player after having met Roger Staubach a little over one year ago! This time it was none other than Eric Dickerson. What was so funny was that the four men in my group of coworkers were like moths to a flame. We drifted over in his direction almost immediately while the four ladies in the room were still focusing on the best cut of t-shirt and if the store had it in pink or baby-blue.

Us boys were later chided for paying homage to one of football's greats. I simply replied that my shameless pandering was not for me but for the bragging rights amongst my social circles... of which this blog is one!

So yeah, the encounter itself was awesome. I even managed to make him laugh by suggesting that he needed to put on a uniform and play for his former college team.

Good times... good times.

Motivation... or lack there of.

I've got plenty to do but I don't want to do any of it. Nothing is urgent so I'm not hard pressed to put my "nose to the grindstone," as it where...

Damn, I've got to shake the funk and get busy!

Please bring your seat to an upright position.

Last year I talked about The Stupid, Crazy, and Selfish. Today I'd like to share one such story about the before mentioned "Selfish".

It was a sunny Thursday afternoon and that meant I was leaving SoTex to head back for my home in NoTex on the lovely Southwest Airlines. I had my work notes in hand and was conscientiously reading them in my lap, as I have learned that the pilot is unable to get the plane off of the tarmac if my tray table is down. Now other members of The Quad poke a little fun at ol' Cyber for being "Mr. Corporate Guy". If that is the case than the gentleman sitting to my right made me look like a Casual Friday All-Star. This guy was the whole package: gold cuff-links, Armani suit, and slicked-back-hair. Of course he had his seat leaned back, his tray table down and his wireless laptop burning up the information super-highway!

It's one thing if you're stupid. I can almost abide the stupid. They don't know how they are supposed to play their part in preparing the plane for departure. But this jerk would actually fold down his laptop screen every time an attendant walked by in an attempt to avoid turning it off.

What an A-hole!

Eventually the hard working young air-hostess was forced to confront the man several times. Eventually he did place his seat in the upright position as well as fold up his tray table. But the guy never turned off his damn computer. Can you imagine the nerve? Everyone could tell that the poor girl was getting really annoyed as she kept walking by to gain his compliance. Eventually the pilot had to stop just short of the runway as the crew confronted the big time businessman as a group.

I'm sure the conversation was a heated one and I wish I had been able to hear, but my ipod volume was up pretty loud. Oh well, at least they finally were able to get that selfish pig to turn off all electronic devices.

I'll give you a head start!

My office is pretty competitive. There are seven people that hold positions like mine and we all do basically the same thing, making it fairly easy to compare, contrast, and "race" each other in our progress towards our individual goals. We are also all new, making it all the more easy to gauge each other equally in terms of progress.

So I was thinking about this little fact as I was driving into work this morning. You see I had an especially challenging weekend, as my wife is getting her home business up and running again, having taken a hiatus for the birth of Lil' Higgins. This was my second weekend where I have basically been on my own with "the boys." Let me tell you, when they are about six and eight years old, it's going to be great to take them to football games, movies, camping, etc. etc. But a two year old and a newborn are hard-ass work. That's not to say that older kids are easier but at least my back will not be breaking in half from carting Lil' Higgins in my arms all morning and giving horse-back rides to Lil' Magnum all afternoon.

I digress... (I do that allot)

Long story - short: I felt like the walking dead last night and I feel just terrible this morning. I'm thinking about this driving into work because most of my co-workers don't have children and none of them have children under the age of four. I couldn't help but be a little envious of all the rest they must have had this weekend, the feeling of being refreshed heading into the office, of getting their week started with a bang - like a race horse right out of the gate! Meanwhile, I'm still getting my saddle on and my jockey is busy puking in the bathroom, attempting to make the weight limit.

God help me I'm tired.

Notes from The Road

This is what I know:

1) Airplanes suck.

2) Airports suck.

3) Rain is awesome on your yard but sucky at airports.

4) Ipods are filled with awesomeness unless the battery is empty.

5) Deoderant is awesome but even more awesome if the very large hairy traveler standing next to you had chosen to use it this morning.

6) ...and airplanes suck.

Oops!

So I'm kickin' some ass and takin' some names at work all day on Friday. I had been on the phone to prospects, setting appointments, and generally feeling really good about my productive day. It was a good day and I was motivated to stay at my desk over my lunch break and work on a few things on my "honey-do" list. Call the baby-sitter, check on flights for Thanksgiving, pick my nose, etc. etc. I'm flying through my list with the same speed and accuracy I've been doing with my work.

Next Up: Check Delta Flights for Thanksgiving. I've got Delta skymiles that are about to expire next year and since I don't fly Delta anymore, I'm hoping to cash in on a little free-miles before I close the book on Delta all together. The only problem is they don't really fly much out of my local airport so I really need to speak with a representative. A Big problem I have with the internet is that companies don't like to just hand over their customer service number... go figure. I guess they either expect you to figure it out yourself on-line or just go away. Not a problem for me, I do a google search for Airline numbers and find a whole list.

Look right there! It's the Delta Domestic Number! Don't believe me? Try it for yourself.

1-800-221-1212

Just one word of caution. Don't get your 1's and your 2's mixed up. Like say for instance...

1-800-221-2121

I'm warning you! Don't believe me? Try it for yourself.

Me? I'm expecting a call from Information Technology and Human Resources within the week asking for my resignation!

Time to knuckle-down!

Back in April I got reassigned. I was working the west coast and had taken my sweet-ass time in building up towards a pretty heavy travel schedule. The reassignment couldn't have been better timed because right around the time Lil' Higgins was born, I got to plant my ass at work and pretend to diligently prep my new region assignment. So now my time has run out. I've got my first trip mid-next week and I'm going to have to get serious.

See you bloggers later...

sometime...

whenever...

just later.

Taking Care of Business - Part 1

I was on the phone with Dagromm last week and we were talking about work. I shared a little secret of mine that I have been using for years and (like many other occasions) he declared me a genius. He said that it's those type of things that they should be teaching in school and not all the math.

It got me thinking about all the different work-lessons we teach ourselves. The type of stuff that they don't tell you in the classroom. I'd like to humbly submit this little nugget of wisdom as one of a series that I plan to share. Call it a multi-part lesson in how to get ahead while doing nothing.

It's sort of a guide to maximizing your earning power while minimizing any actual work you do for a living. For me it typifies that goal of working to live and not living to work. I like to call this one:

- I love the smell of email in the morning -



As a parent to Lil' Magnum and Lil' Higgins my wife and I are often up in the early hours of the morning. Consequently, I tend to go ahead and leave for work ASAP. Whatever your reason for being at the office at the butt-crack of dawn, it's always important that people know how committed you are to your work. Never mind the fact that from 6:30am to 9:00am I'm catching up on all my favorite TV shows on-line. No, the important issue is that your boss and coworkers know how committed you are to having you ass planted at the office.

Now if you're lucky enough to be a non-except paid employee than you don't have to worry about this, because your time-card will tell the whole story. But if you are a salaried employee than you don't earn the benefits of overtime. It's great when you want to go sneak out for an extra long lunch and see Spider-Man 3, but it sucks when you are either working early or working late.

That brings us to the strategy:

I want to make sure as many people know that I'm working early (or late) so I send out emails. Perhaps it's a response you've been meaning to give a co-worker. Maybe it's an update on a project for your boss. Or even if it is the generic FYI to anyone and everyone, send it now! There's no guarantee, but I think there is a better than even chance people notice what time the email got sent. I know that one can program an email to be sent on delay but be wary of such attempts. You never know when the boss might actually be in the office early and discovers your little ruse. No, the best bet is to send the emails when you are actually in the office. Don't worry about actually working. Surf the net, download some music, or in my case - watch some TV! The best part about it is no commercials!

Steppin' Out with My Baby!

In the last two weeks I've thought of probably twenty different things that I really wanted to blog about. All of them now escape me save the last... I really need to keep a pocket-note-pad handy.

I've been at home all week this week, mainly playing with my toddler, while my wife tends to baby-duty. This morning I told my wife I would be going into work today. After having my shower and getting my suit on she asked if I could help her by holding the baby while she took a quick shower. My toddler was still asleep and my wife would definitely have her hands full after he woke up, so I decided to hold Lil' Higgins while she showered (to ensured that the chaos of waking children could wait until she was fresh and ready to go).

BIG MISTAKE. No more than five minutes into Diane Sawyer's latest expose on motel criminals did Lil' Higgins piss all over my shirt, tie, and slacks. "Ding-Dong!" I cursed in my newly acquired G-rated languate that I use at home. I was irritated. But it's not his fault. He's just a baby. It's not my fault, I certainly didn't want to wear tee-tee-clothes. It's not my older son's fault... he is still asleep. That rules out everyone but the wife. It must be her fault, right? She didn't see it that way.

Long story-short... I had to add a pair of pants to the drop off at the dry-cleaners.

Just hold it...

Hydrate, hydrate, hydrate. That's all I keep hearing from my wife, my doctor, my mother... you name it. And it's true. Often times when I feel run-down, lethargic, or just have a simple head-ache, a few bottles of water is all it takes to get me back on the right side of feeling swell. But there is a dark side to hydration. A wicked side with a nasty sense of humor.

How many of you in blog-country have been right on time for a meeting at work, with no wiggle room for a bathroom break? You can already feel it coming on and you hope that the meeting, scheduled for an hour is only going to go thirty minutes because that may be all your bladder can handle. So you sit in the meeting. You take notes, you participate, you listen and you watch as the momentum of said meeting goes well beyond your window of opportunity. Now you're holding on for dear life. You'd prefer not to get up and leave the room, drawing attention to the fact that you are gong to pee-pee and you think that maybe the meeting could wrap up in just a few minutes. The time ticks away and you are no longer able to concentrate on the content of the meeting because the pain in your bladder is blocking out all other sensation.

A few minutes earlier you were chiming in with great ideas and interesting observations. Now every person in the room that says, "Have we discussed this option yet?" becomes your mortal enemy and you curse the day that they were born because you now know that it would one day lead to them setting in this f-ing meeting and forcing you to risk pissing your pants!

You begin to squirm ever so slightly because it is all you can do to hold back the tide of urine that is now dangerously close to spilling forth! You think to yourself, I can't wait any longer! I must excuse myself from the meeting. But you're paranoid now. Worried that someone may have noticed your change in demeanor long ago and will know that for the last thirty minutes you've been thinking of nothing but unzipping your pants!

But then the meeting ends! Thank the Gods! relief at last. You stand up and prepare to file out the door of the conference room. You're home free! The toilet is just a few yards away and you can almost feel that sweet relief. It's the most precious thing in the world at this point and you would trade away your first born child just for the chance to let it fly!

You step one foot out of the conference room and in that very moment your boss stops you and says, "Say, cyberman. Have a seat for a few minutes while I go over this other project with you."

Normally you'd have the right words to explain your situation. You'd say something like, "I'm sorry, boss. I need to run to the restroom really quickly and I'll be right back." Unfortunately all sanity has left you at this point and you only manage to blurt out, "Pampers" because that's what you'll need if you're not careful.

Riding High

A recent article by the illustrious Q got me thinking about a now infamous experience he and I shared over the course of a lunch hour back in the year 2000 (please read the last phrase like that dude from the Conan O'Brien Show).

Q and I often went to grab a bite while he was working in my office. This particular time we took my Sa-Wank company car - a powder blue Ford Taurus, Ching! There is this little burger dive in an old part of town that we enjoyed visiting, only it had us roll through a moderately sketchy neighborhood.

This particular time we were headed back to campus and I slowly pulled up to a stop-sign next to a 7-eleven. As I did this I could see a young man riding a bicycle down the intersecting street. Instead of going through the intersection (where he would have had the right of way) he chose to cut across the 7-eleven lot, and in doing so slammed into the passenger side of my car! Q screamed like a six-year-old girl and dove his head into my lap as the man's body buckled in half, with arms and torso sprawling across the hood of my car and legs flailing against Q's window. His momentum (now displaced by the powder-blue sex-machine) rolled down the right side of the vehicle along with the bicycle, leaving a long scratches and a very unattractive streak from his tennis shoes.

I did what any mild mannered driver sitting at a dead freakin' stop would do. I pulled Q's head out of my crotch, yelled "son of a bitch!" and jumped out of my car. The guy had popped up from behind my back-right tire, his long blond mass of hair swishing from side to side in a disheveled mess. He was probably in his mid thirties, wore a sleeveless Iron Maiden t-shirt and cut-off blue jeans.

FYI - Cut off blue jeans are always a bad sign!

He rubbed his three day old stubble as he groaned and looked over at me. The following conversation ensued.

Me: What the hell do you think you're doing?

Blondie: Dude, I've never been hit by a car before.

Me: You mean you've never HIT a car before. I was at a dead stop, a-hole.

Blondie: Yeah, man... I'm sorry about that. You like came out of no-where.

Me: I was sitting at the stop sign. (By this time I've walked around the car and seen that he's knocked my side mirror completely off). Look at the damage to my car.

Blondie: Yeah, man.

Q: (to me) Do you think he's okay?

Me: Oh yeah, are you okay?

Blondie: Yeah, I think I'm okay. Thanks for asking (Keep in mind, he's bleeding all over the back of my car as he turns to pick up his busted bike and begins to walk away).

Me: Hold up, Tex. This is a company car. I've got to call the police and file a report.

Blondie: What?

Me: You need to stay here while I call the police.

Blondie: The cops?

Me: Yes.

Blondie: Yeah, I gotta go home and grab my wallet. I just live down the street but I'll be right back.

Me: Listen. You do what you want, but I'm calling the police. You say you're coming back... that's on you.

Blondie: Okay... see you in just a second.

I go into the 7-eleven and the clerk says, "Man, that guy is not coming back."

Me: Don't I know it.

Two weeks and $780 later I get the Taurus back as good as new. Message to the kids: Don't do drugs.

New Boss

For those that read this blog on a regular basis, you will know that with the start of my new job came a little bit of anxiety around the question-mark that is my new boss. Because there was a delay on hiring the executive director of my department, they did not want to wait any longer on hiring the directors, so I was one of three people given offers prior to the arrival of my new boss. Meaning what? Again, for those of you who read this blog, you will know that I haven't had the greatest luck with bosses. Every single boss I have ever had has been fired from the organization where I worked with them. So you can imagine my trepidation when it comes to bosses.

So I start thinking this guy is going to hate me since he wasn't involved in the hiring. Well, that's just my emotions talking. I'll not even bore you with all the details of all the other bizarre nightmares I've worried about as it relates to the new guy.

Long story - short... I met him today and he seams like a nice guy. I mean how much can you really figure out after meeting him for just a few minutes? Only time will tell.

For those of you paying attention...

I started my new job last week. And for those of you that care I give the new situation an A- on the report card. Everyone I have met is very nice. The entire atmosphere is far more friendly and welcoming. Everything I have seen so far seams to indicate that resources will be plentiful, the work load will be distributed well, and that my support staff will actually support me which was a complete crock of shit with my last employer.

But it is a large organization. The largest I have ever worked in and there are inevitably some logistical and communication issues associated with it. This however is the least of my worries and probably one of the easier things to fix.

Of course this is all very knee-jerk since I am still in my first week (which is largely just orientation), I will not meet my boss until November (he was hired after me), and I have no sense of how maxed out the management pushes the staff work-load. Call me a high-S on the D.I.S.C. assessment but I am not quick to trust and I can be be very skeptical of peoples motives. So I am reserving judgment for a little further down the road. In the meantime I am Mr. Positive Thinking Man and hopeful that this is someplace I can spend the next 5-7 years... or more.

So going from a D- in job situation to an A- is pretty good.

It's not an invitation to dinner but it's more than most people get!

Today was probably my last major event with my current employer. I would say that for the most part I went out with a whimper. I wasn't in charge or even responsible for much of anything so I showed up on-time and stood around holding up a wall. This is much different than what I am normally accustomed to doing - that being working the room and meeting strangers so I can ask them for money. It was actually kind of nice to be as anti-social as I wanted to be without any expectations.

The speaker was quite a bore, and the program was pretty hap-hazard so it made me feel pretty good about the fact that even though my ex-boss expected perfection, she will continue to be disappointed by the people that she hires since (like me) we are all only human!

But there was one very special moment. Had I been a little more "on the ball" I might have gotten more. Maybe a conversation. Having received only a hand-shake and the casual comment of "hi," I was still extremely satisfied, because I got to shake the hand or Roger Staubach! Two and a half years with my organization and finally the man comes to one of our events. He's been invited to absolutely everything we do and he finally came. And I got to shake his hand. This is a Three time Super Bowl Champion, Quarterback of the Dallas Cowboys Football Franchise from 1969 to 1979, and all around person of prominence. It's not everyday that one gets the brief brush with fame (and believe me - mine was brief), but it's more than most people get, so I'm not ashamed to flaunt it. Woo-Hoo!

Carpe Job!

It is a moment like this that one is reminded that the wheel of time does eventually turn. Like a child in the month of December the thing you crave most feels like it takes an eternity. In this case only nine months... and no I'm not talking about the birth of my son, although we are celebrating his birthday this month.

I'm talking about a job offer with Some-Such University. It represents so many things that I have been wanting/needing/longing for that it is hard to put into words what I am feeling right now. Disbelief is actually one of those feelings. Glee, peace, excitement, and fear are also some of the feelings rushing through me at this time.

I am now waiting for the contract to come in the mail so that I might review it, sign it, return it, and then shove my stinking resignation letter in the face of those I dislike most at my place of current employment.

Two and a half years isn't a long time on a resume but it sure is a long time being a duck out of water. I'm returning home in a sense. Back to working in higher education. And I have to say the best thing about working outside of that arena is now knowing that in the fundraising business - higher education is the place to be.

But the good news is that I am not just running away from something... Actually the running away part has become the smallest of factors. The even "gooder" news is that it is a great professional move to a university on the rise in prominence. It is into a facet of development that is truly the direction I want to take my career at this time and not the bizarre hybrid that it was at my current place of employment. It is significantly more money which is always a good thing and something that will come in handy with a new baby on the way.

(Did I not mention that on my blog yet? I guess I was too busy ranking Seinfeld characters.)

The one drawback is the travel. I will miss my wife and son terribly. Also being gone more often with the new baby will certainly be harder on my wife by comparison to my being home every night when Lil' Magnum was an infant.

But I am hopeful that this is something we can become comfortable with in time. I am also hopeful that "me time" will become a part of my life again. Perhaps there will be some time to persue my writing instead of watching lame cable television in a hotel room. "Me time" has been in serious short supply. But with all change comes stress. I anticipate growing pains with the new situation but the positives certainly outweigh the negatives.

So Carpe Job I say!

One of those days...

Have you ever had one of those days where all attention feels like it is on you? Where a confluents of demands hits you all at the same time and you can't manage to do one thing right or meet one stinking deadline or satisfy one single expectation. Today was my day. Uggggghhhhhh! I'm just going to have to get over it. God, just help me through these next few weeks. I hope to see some light at the end of the tunnel.