I gotta say, if technology had nuts, I would totally kick him in them right now. Yesterday was a total nightmare trying to figure out how to configure my Outlook to match up to the network server. It took me two hours before I sent out an SOS signal into the sky and have someone help me. It then took me an additional 5 hours to figure out why my email was not being sent to my phone. I thought I had everything inputted into the system correctly, but nothing seemed to be happening except for a danger exclamation point symbol popping up and telling me that my email wasn't working. Well, excuse my French, but no shit Sherlock. Instead of showing me the sad clown face, why don't you send someone here obviously smarter than me to figure it out?!?!?!? Sad faces and exclamation points are just condescending. You should be ashamed of yourself. So, that was yesterday. Today, I've spent the better part of the morning yelling at the scanner for eating my papers or doing nothing at all. And then the afternoon wondering why the mail merge that I did on Monday has somehow morphed into a new being completely and now won't take the new data entries into the template. I can't tell you how many times I imagined taking a baseball bat to these machines and drowning them in gasoline and then lighting a match. The creators of the movie Office Space were onto something. One can never feel dumber than when one is staring down the face of machinery who you know is just sitting there laughing at you.
And now onto more important things. So last week I mentioned that I was heading to Vegas for a job interview. And considering that I was so vague I'm imagining that your first thoughts were of a showgirl try out, stripper audition, or celebrity impersonator. So close on all of those assumptions, and part of me wishes that any of those were true. But, I'm happy to announce that I will not be changing the title of my blog because in radio is exactly where I'll be staying. I never thought I would utter those words again, but this new company is allowing me the opportunity to get back into the world that I have spent the majority of my adult life, while continue to live out the dream of opening my dog daycare. When I first got the call about the job, I really thought it was almost too good to be true. How could a company encourage me to do something with my extra time, even when they were paying me? I've always waited for the other shoe to drop when something was way too good too be true, but after much self convincing, I know this is exactly the opportunity I deserve. I can't tell you how many days I've sat behind a desk and wondered why I'm taking up a chair at all? When I do work, I work my ass off, but I've never really had a job that required my year 'round attention. Now I have the chance to do things on my own timeline and be happy at the same time. Of course I could write you all in a few months saying that my trepidation of taking this job was a reality and now I'm living in my car with my dog wondering just how long we both can go before I start to eat her. I don't think it will get to that point, but hey, anythings possible. So, I'm happy to report that after 6 months of funemployment I am gainfully employed and moving to a city near you. For the time being, I'm going to sit tight and make some money so that I'm able to move, but in the meantime I'm just going to have to make due with my room mates :o) I don't know if Scout will make it out alive, but I'll do just fine. I guess with her, moving home meant that her animal status moved up from dog to goat. I've heard of dogs eating some crazy things, but this particular animal has gotten into EVERYTHING. She's eaten everything from dad's glasses, to phone cords, an ENTIRE tin of cupcakes, a loaf of bread, pillows, paper towels, oven mitts, towels, wrappers, money (well to her credit, she's only eating half of the bills, but still. We try to check her poop for change, but sadly there is none to report) you name it, it's not safe in the house. Unless of course you are her actual food and that she's been picky enough not to eat. Today I get a call from Meg asking me if I had thrown away a container of vitamins because it was empty. The answer was no, but somehow she got into the drawer in my bathroom and took out the empty container, got bored with that, found the cookie wrappers that were hidden somewhere downstairs, got bored with that, started working on the pillows, got bored with them so went upstairs to have a nap. The amazing thing is that the gate was up to prevent her from even going downstairs. This kid is the best magician that money can't buy. It honestly amazes me how we haven't ended up in urgent care with her yet. I'm sure there are things that we haven't even seen her eat that she's gotten into. For a few days, Meg was missing her Netflix DVD and I thought, oh God, here we go again, but we found that in an unexpected place. (that's not unusual for the Galanty house though) I mean, my brother lives with an honest to goodness goat, and I wonder how different the two of them actually are. I mean besides the fact that it's not weird to own a dog. Last night my dad came home and probably said the funniest line of 2011. Meg had asked about my brother and how things were going in the new place and he says "Well, first of all, the goat is now living in the house". I thought I was going to pee my pants. If this were a euphemism for anything it might not be so funny, but in the literal sense, that is the funniest thing I've ever heard. I mean, for starters, did you really think if you were going to move in with someone who got a goat, that that animal wouldn't somehow make it into the house? I mean, what kind of crazy nut job wakes up and thinks to themselves that their life is incomplete somehow, but if only they had a goat they would be fulfilled? And then, what type of person also says, the person that I'm going to live with decided one day to get a goat. This is awesome. The goat is so cute. To me, I can't honestly say who is worse? The dirty hippie for getting the goat, or my brother for thinking it was going to be okay. But then, it keeps getting funnier, or to me at least. I literally just got off the phone with my brother who says, "I leave the house for 2 minutes and by the time I get back, there is goat shit on my bed". I honestly tried not to laugh directly into the phone, but did you honestly expect a different result? THE LADY HAS A GOAT!!!! I sometimes wonder how he and I are related.
I think that just about wraps up the latest in the dramady that can sometimes be my life. I hope I have kept you entertained, line by line.
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