23 August 2009

Struggling.

I thought perhaps a day off on Friday would kind of start turning things around for me. However, I ended up having to go in to the office for a mercifully short, but insane, conference call. Fortunately, all I had to do was listen to the five people in the conference room on the other end talk over each other -- loudly and about things not at all related to our project. Thanks, jerkfaces.

The rest of my day off was spent home on the farm, hanging out with the fam. I had to come back yesterday afternoon, because I had plans with The Boy I Currently Like. Now, I was wiped the fuck out on Friday, as I woke up at 4:00 a.m. and couldn't go back to sleep. I really intended to check my bank balance, but I just spaced.

Before I drove back to Minneapolis, I needed gas. So I called to check my balance and ... my paycheck had not been deposited. Again. Fortunately, I had some cash. However, I had negative cash in my checking account. You must be motherfucking joking. I pretty much cried the entire 90 minute drive home.

Once I got home and unloaded my shit, I got the idea to take a closer look at my pay stub, to see if I could figure out where things went wrong. Upon closer inspection, the thing at the bottom was not my notice of a direct deposit into my checking account -- it was a check.

Hey, thanks so much for giving me a heads up that you had decided to stop direct depositing my check. I could have had that thing in my account Thursday night. Now, it won't be posted until tomorrow and since it's an out-of-state check, the funds won't be available for FIVE FUCKING BUSINESS DAYS. I wonder if they even know I got a paper check.

Honest to Christ. This shit is wearing on me. I told The Boy last night that it is just so exhausting.

My outlook on life improved dramatically after I'd been at The Boy's place for a bit. We had much fun watching the Twins, playing Tekken and doing the other stuff we do, as always.

Today, I had my fantasy football draft. We do it all online, so I drafted from The Boy's living room. I'm really quite pleased with this year's incarnation of The Bob Saget Fan Club, and he is totally excited about it. He was excited to be there while I drafted, as he is in a keeper league and doesn't have quite the pool of players from which to choose as I do in my redraft league.

As always, there were many, many stupid and inexplicable decisions coming from my league mates. It's hard to complain, though, because I always have great players falling to me when they should have been long gone. I can complain about the fact that I still haven't gotten my fucking money from last season, though. Nor will I get it. At least my league fees and about 20 transactions are covered. I don't even make that many moves during a typical season.

I appreciated having The Boy there to bounce ideas of of him and also to bask in his vast amount of fantasy football knowledge. He got me to make a couple of choices I never would have if I followed my normal draft procedure. Well, at least one, anyway. I have an elite quarterback this year!

Now, I am enjoying a lovely mint julep and making a pork loin to eat for lunch at work this week. I may not technically have money at the moment, but at least I have food and booze. I'm out of wine, though. That's no good.

2 comments:

Brian in Mpls said...

Money worries blow there is nothing more stressful then looking at a pile of bills and a negatitve checking account. I am glad you have booze though it is about the only thing that has keep me sane over the last two years.

Jess said...

Yeah. It wears on you.

Still no word as to why this has apparently happened to only me. But several coworkers got a little panicky when I asked, because no one else looked that closely at their alleged pay stub, either.