More Fucktasticness

So, fuck. The fun continues. I don't even know where to start.

Well, on a day of remembrance in which we acknowledge the truly weighty and significant events of six years ago, let me do my part by distracting you with some utterly petty and pathetic minutae from my unemployed life.

First off, the issue of my withheld unemployment benefits has yet to be resolved. Still haven't heard either way regarding a decision from my "caseworker" as to whether or not my funds are going to be released. It's been a long and scary waiting game and the bills continue to pile up.

Last week I was supposed to have started my new long-term temp gig at FuckEx. But first I had to take a drug test. Fine. So, I do that and then have to wait to hear from my representative from Fuckvantage Human Resourcing saying that I passed the test and I can start. Which they were ready for me to do last week. Well, of COURSE it takes several days to get the results and then I get a call from my rep saying that I'm now not going to be starting until the 24TH. And, no. They don't have any short-term gigs to fill in in the meantime. Which is AWESOME. So, I call the other FOUR temp agencies I'm registered with to find out if they might have anything available for a week or two until my new gig starts. NO, they all say. Nothing. And while you're at it, why don't you go ahead and shove a stick up your ass.

THEN, a couple weeks ago, I got a ticket for having an expired inspection sticker on my car. $65. Totally didn't realize it was that time of year AGAIN, but didn't have the dough to get it done. Then I got another ticket. $65. Then ANOTHER. $65. So, finally I take the car in to have the inspection done, fingers crossed. Sometimes it takes about $100-$200 worth of tweaking to get the emissions to pass. If it failed, it failed. But, if it passed, yay. It's $35 either way, so I'm really hoping. I drop it off and the mechanic calls me 2 hours later and says that it's going to require $1400 worth of work before he can even TEST the emissions. Um. Fuckin... WHAT? So, of course I tell the guy he's full of shit and not to TOUCH my car and I'm going to come pick it up. Luckily, he didn't charge me the $37 since he didn't test the emissions. But, yeah. As has become my wife's mantra of late, "Put it on the fuckin' list."
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In addition, I've been putting off following up with the agent I was supposed to meet with after Labor Day because I don't have the $250 I need to get my reel done and don't want to go in empty-handed. Another fucklicious morsel to add to my already-overflowing shitplate.
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Oh, yeah. And then Kanga managed to pick up a lovely case of pinkeye after mingling with the other pooches at the Prospect Park Doggie Beach. So, THAT was $90 on The Missus' already-overfuckflowing credit card.
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OH.... And those awesome construction workers I mentioned in my last post? Haven't been back since last week. So, there's this unfinished monstrosity of a stoop/fuck/porch that the neighbors give a sort of pathetic head shake at when they walk by.
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Basically, I'm in a state of unbridled fuckstasy. And am beginning to wonder what the point of it all is. Actually, I'm now more concerned about whether or not there's a point to it at all. Trying to have faith.

REALLY. I AM.

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Now... If you're still reading this then it means you survived my Woe Is Me spew and haven't left in disgust. Congratulations. Takes a real steady stomach to weather that much blech. As a reward, I will share what bits of sunshine I have perspective enough to reflect your way.
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Had another surprise opporunity to spend a couple nights up at Meg's this weekend. Which happened to coincide with the one-year anniversary of my quit date. So on Saturday evening I made a tuna steak (my first attempt. successo.) and The Missus put together a really fantastic carrot/ginger/peanut slaw and some RIDICULOUS wasabi mashed potatoes. And we washed it all down with a surprisingly awesome bottle of rose. (I know. Who'da thunk?) Then Sunday evening, on our way back to the City we stopped by the Eveready Diner in Hyde Park. We'd seen it on an episode of Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives and were jonesing to check it out. Holy crap. All-American comfort food done phenomenally well. Everything homemade. Friggin' yummish.

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So, yes. I know. There's always some good with the bad and if you don't at least get over yourself long enough to LOOK for it, then you probably don't deserve to have it come your way ANYWAY, right?

Well, of course you're right. But, if I did that then how the hell would you have passed the time for the last fifteen minutes?

See? I'm frustrated and you're bored.

...We're a perfect fuckin' match.