The Perfect Storm of Stress and The Romper Room Rant

I’ve been buried the past couple of days. It’s one of those times when all the crap hits all the fans while all the rest of the crap is flowing downstream at the same moment. The perfect storm of stress.

I have been:
Forced to participate in endless conference calls with representatives of the company that acquired the company that owns the company that is one of my biggest clients. I have done projects for this company for 20 years. I’m known for being early on deadlines and under budget – routinely, consistently. So what are all the calls for!? “Let us discuss how projects can be done quickly and cost effectively”. OK John J. Junior Exec – you incredibly ignorant slug. Please do tell.

I have been:
Trying to collect from a client. They owe me over $12,000 for months and months. For projects I did for them last year. 5 weeks ago I was told the check would be cut in a week or so. Yep! – It’s in the mail, it’s on the truck. And I walk a tightrope with these collection attempts. There is a small determinate number of clients giving out work to a large number of vendors. Can’t really piss them off while trying to get paid. Whores in shark infested waters – my new company slogan.

I have been:
Juggling minimum amount due dates and extensions on extensions. Funny – the fact that my client hasn’t paid me in months doesn’t seem to impress my bill collectors. Seems that only large corporations can get away with non-payment.

I have been:
Vocally and passionately fighting with the big-ass-asshats at the big-ass store. Seems that sales associates are now supposed to clean the store. Not a little dusting or tidying – we already do that along with lifting, carrying, stocking, boxing, folding, unfolding and hanging. We also clean the fitting rooms. Of course this is in addition to actually doing our job – ya know – sales! Well now we’re supposed to polish shelving and stands. Clean “on, around, and under all displays”. Really!? If I wanted to be a cleaning person I would be a cleaning person – and I would earn $30 an hour off the books. Since I’m 52 freakin’ years old with a bad back I am NOT cleaning your fucking hell hole of a store that hasn’t been professionally cleaned in 20 years. I’m certainly not cleaning it during the same hours that I am supposed to be helping customers. And I’m not cleaning it while the temperature in my work area is 87 degrees (I bought in a temp gauge that disappeared the next day) because the AC unit is too old and the duct work is bad. And I’m not cleaning while you continue to cut the hours of the cleaning people – you know – the ones who took the job knowing they’d be cleaning! It is not that I think I’m too good for cleaning – one of my many 2nd or 3rd jobs over the years was cleaning office suites all night. NO! I’m not going to clean because you just can’t suck any more labor out of me for a few bucks an hour. NO MORE! And if you keep pushing there’s going to be news crews and labor people crawling all over your filthy store.

So in the midst of this – well – my stress level has been a wee bit high – just a tad. But I am glad to report that I never lost sight of the bigger picture. I never lost sight of the fact that the $12,000 I’m waiting for is a years salary for many of the folks I work with at the big-ass hell hole. I never lost sight of the fact that my home is not in foreclosure, that I don’t have small children, that although I can’t pay for it on time – I do have health insurance.

And not losing sight of the big picture is a big deal. It helps us focus on the real enemies, the true threats. It strengthens us and gives asshats like Bushie Boy and his ‘All Corrupt, All the Time Choir’ less power over us.

And it left me enough room in my heart and soul to rejoice in my nominee for President actually, finally being called the nominee he has already been for weeks.

I’m also managing to maintain my sense of humor. I called a friend last night to ask some labor law advice and some collections advice. During the conversation I mentioned that some of the cleaning people at the big-ass hell hole call me “Miss Dianne”. (another story). This lead to the Romper Room Rant.

Lawyer friend: Miss Dianne!? Makes you sound like that bitch from Romper Room
Me: I always hated her.
LF: Hated her? That’s strong.
Me: You know how I am about perky.
LF: You would have done a great job on Romper Room
Me: Me? Romper Room!? Only if it was Adults Only Romper Room
LF: There’s an idea. Did SNL do that?
Me: Maybe or maybe I just dreamed it during a twisted moment.
LF: Miss Dianne and her Warped Wand see all …
Me: During the one hour Comedy Central Special – Romper Room Rant
LF: I’m still in the office – I can’t laugh
Me: I see Billy and Bobby – Billy stop sniffing the glue; it’s for your school project
LF: Laughter is not permissible in the halls of corporate justice
Me: Bobby go warn Mommy that Daddy’s home – don’t be scared – the pool boy isn’t hurting her
Me: I see Susie and Sally – Susie honey you can’t keep vomiting and then eating more Ring Dings
LF: Ahhh – eating disorders are always so funny
Me: Sally – Sally - Miss Dianne knows what you’re doing! Make sure to always have extra batteries
LF: You know how loud I laugh
Me: Fuck em, it’s after hours
LF: It’s never after hours. Not in the world of greed and despair.
Me: Well that brought me down
LF: So you’re stable now?
Me: No.
LF: Good.

And then we drifted into talk of all our less than stable moments and the hilarity that usually ensues.

It sucks that I missed Peace Blast but I try to blog for Peace in my own way all the time so I’m letting myself off the hook on that one.

And hopefully I’ll be finding some more Project Blue soon.

Back to work now – I have so many projects that I’ll never get paid for to finish.

Note: Romper Room – for all you youngins - was a children’s show during the 60s – I don’t remember what they did on Romper Room other than the perky annoying bitch who hosted the show would hold up this freaky whirling pattern wand and “see you”. She never once saw me! And that pissed me off. Then again, I’m sure her head would have exploded had she seen me.