::chants:: I will not bitch, I will not bitch, I will not bitch...
So I fucking hate work right now...
Damnit! I have no willpower.
Seriously though, like I've said before, especially in my other blog, for the most part it's not the kids. (Except for the 8th graders, and most of them can rot in hell) It's my boss, and my coworkers, and the last-minute changes that I have no control over. It's the fact that my planning period isn't as important as another teacher's. It's the fact that these people don't seem to want to stop and think about what it must take to put a Christmas program together; they just bitch when an extra rehearsal puts a bump in their day.
F you guys. Seriously, I'm crying on the way home from work every day, I'm bringing my bad mood home to A; it's just not good.
Then there are things unrelated to work, like getting a bill in the mail yesterday from the hospital saying that I owe them almost $500 for a visit to the ER I made way back in June of 08. Keep in mind that I've already paid a little over $1,000 for that one visit, and it's been paid off for quite some time now. But no, this is for a lab that was ordered by Dr. Douchenstein, and the insurance won't pay it because they don't have proof that I didn't have a previous condition, blah, blah, blah. The lady I talked to at the hospital was actually pretty nice and she told me that I needed to talk to my insurance. Then my insurance said that I had to talk to the insurance I had before them.
Um, no, I was covered under you guys.
But you had been with us for less than a year.
It had been 11 months.
We still need verification that you had insurance prior.
Go fuck yourself.
So now mom's got to call up her insurance, get a something-or-other paper, then I have to call and fax it to my (now previous) insurance so that they can "re-evaluate" the claim. I swear, if I go through all this trouble and I still have to pay, I'm going to be pissed. The fact that I've already paid so much for that one visit and now all this time later they're sticking me with more if fucking ridiculous. I hope that A's plan doesn't try to do this shit when Daven comes. Because there's no way in hell we'd be able to afford bills like that!
::pulls on a Snuggie and sips a warm mug of hot cocoa::
*Disclaimer* I would never own, nor wear a snuggie. And while I enjoy a good cup of hot chocolate, I am not drinking any at this time. Damnit, I just made myself want hot chocolate.
I think Fed Ex somehow delivered a drum set to my ute today without me noticing. Because it's felt like Daven's been playing tom toms today. Not just one kick, but several at a time, like he's trying to find the steady beat. That's my boy! Although mommy would appreciate it if you would pick another instrument to play. Now now, if you really super want to play drums you can, but mommy wants to you learn at least one other instrument as well. Besides, drums aren't as cool in band class as you would think. It's actually pretty boring and mommy doesn't want you to get in trouble with the band director for goofing off because you don't have anything to do.
What? You want to play football? You better want to march in the band too, mister. And you know that your daddy wants you to play with computers.
But really, Daven, mommy and daddy are going to let you explore whatever you want. Yes, you will probably be subjected to piano lessons early on so that you can grow your musical background, but if you want to play a sport, we won't mind.
Keep growing, baby boy. Mommy needs to know that this constant pain isn't for nothing! We love you!
No comments:
Post a Comment