If it's not one something, it's something else. Crud!

.

Hey y'all!  Hugs, kisses, whatever...


Man, I finally got some time off from work after an especially challenging couple of weeks.  The two weeks started out with me witnessing first hand two uniformed Soldiers showing up next door to inform the family that one of their sons had been killed in Afghanistan.  I will certainly post something about this when I finally get my head wrapped around it.  But for now, just know that it really knocked all of us off our game.  The family more so than me, obviously...but, well, I'll post something about it once I've got my head wrapped around it.  Then it was on to work for a couple of challenging weeks.


Don't get me wrong...as y'all all know, I love my job.  But, it was time to shelve it for a while. 


So, I had me these three whole days off hand-runnin', and had me my plan.


My garage looks like crap.  Seriously.  For a guy that prides himself on keeping things neat, clean, and in order, it is truly embarrassing.  And, my yard looks like crap.  SERIOUSLY!  I mean, this is ME!!!  I'm the one guy in the 'hood that can't stand it when his place gets to looking crappy.  But, there I'm iz...with a crappy looking yard.


Crud.


So, since I got off work on Sunday morning, I have literally felt like crap.  And, my well-laid plans have turned out just such that way.  My garage still looks like crap, and my yard looks exactly like it did (except with three extra days of crappy, viney, weedy growth piled on top of the crappy look).


Crud.


It has been a struggle just to move around.


Waaaa!


Waaaa!


Waaaa!


Well, as some/most/maybe none of y'all know, I am the pro bono Secretary for my beloved Daddy's business.  Yes, I handle all of his website updates, his electronic correspondence, his billing, etc.  Well...it seems that a couple of weeks ago (just about the time that I found out that a fine young man that went to High School with my #2 son, and is a true military hero was killed in action) that my Daddy's online fax service, and e-mail service basically cratered.


To be honest, I KNEW something was wrong.  I just didn't have the spizzerinkum to look in to it.  But, I knowed it must be did.  So, yesterday I dived in to it.  About three hours of web-searching, and two calls to a very nice lady in India helped me get Daddy's online fax service back up.  (She did a bitchin' job, too!  Really!  Them Indians are pretty sharp from time to time.  Just sayin'...)


Then it came down to figuring out WHY all of his e-mails were not being forwarded to my main box where I have ALL of his biz e-mails, my biz e-mails, my personal e-mails, etc. forwarded.


Waaaaa!


Waaaa!


Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!


Well, I finally figured it out (by the hardest).  So all was right with the world.


Not...


I still felt like crap.


Then, Monday night I was so tied up in knots that I did not get to sleep until 0420 HRS on Tuesday morning. (A really good friend of mine called me a "pussy" twice on Monday night.  It hurt.  Really.  Not.)


Waaaaa!


Waaaaa!


Waaaaaaaaaaa!


Then, I wake up at roughly 0845 HRS on Tuesday to this!

Yep!  The Gooble Mail has somehow decided to screw with me.


Again.


I wake up and find that 1490 old e-mails have been re-deposited in my "catch all" inbox.


The Mrs. thought it was REALLY, REALLY funny, too.  She was like, "Bwahahahahahaha....you're the guy that's so anal about keeping his e-mail box cleaned out.  Bwahahahahahahaha"


I love her.  Really, I do...so I laughed along with her. 


Ha ha ha ha.........


So, it's been a good long while since I thought about marketing this great idea for leisure wear that I had in the way back.  Most/Some/Probably not none of y'all remember it.

But, I might just do it.  Probably!  Maybe.  Probably not...


Anyway, I truly do NOT enjoy being a titty baby, and unloading all my junk on y'all.


Well, maybe I really do...


Not sure.

The ONE THING I KNOW FOR SURE is that The Netflix (registered/copywrite/whatever) has come through, and sent me a video of "Rainman."  

I'm planning to look at Dustin Hoffman in his retard role, eat some of The Mrs.' world famous refried beans on corn chips, and enjoy the last few hours before I have to go back to work.


Have I ever mentioned that I love my job?