Well, it feels like it's been just about forever since I last blogged. I guess it's been over a month. I'm sorry for that. Things have been crazy hectic since I last wrote...We still have our foster kids, Sir Complains A Lot and her younger, bratty sister Hurricane. Since last I wrote, we increased out license and got a third kid. We felt bad because there are so many kids in the system and they have no where to put them, so how dare I have a spare bedroom that could be used as a guest room if anyone were to ever visit me? So, yeah...We upped the license and we've gotten about thirty calls asking about different kids. Most of the kids were in sibling groups--four or five kids. Can you take all of them? Um, no. We have room for one and do not need to round out the number of kids to an even dozen. Although, if I got that many, I would buy a whistle and teach them to come to their tune on the whistle and teach them to sing...And we could escape the Nazis by going through a nunnery and running over the Alps...*stops and considers this* Okay, maybe I've seen The Sound of Music a hundred too many times...Whatever. Who can resist The Lonely Goatherd song?
So, the calls kept coming in. Finally, we actually got a kid. We'll call him Goliath...think of the story, if it's not Goliath, it's----Yeah. Anyway, so Goliath was an 8 year old boy who on his first night was already tossing toys down the stairs, jumping down them, and sliding across the linoleum. By day two, he was tossing toys over the loft wall and down the stairs. We think we might've dodged a bullet when they called to pick him up three days after we got him. Well, I guess it was more like 48 hours later, but the third day. Phoenix was thinking he might've been slightly autistic too because he had some very strange mannerisms. But he was gone quickly. Then we almost got a 4 year old little boy who was in the hospital with a broken leg. Phoenix was asked to go pick him up from the hospital and she agreed, but then the CPS worker threw it out there that he was in a cast from his clavicle (shoulder) to his knee. Say what!? A 4 year old in a body cast? He couldn't sit up, so if we were to take him in the car he would need to lay down. So, already that doesn't work since we have two other kids who need the backseat as well. Second, we live in a two-story house...Are we to carry him everywhere? CPS suggested a wagon. Oh good...That would work lovely on the stairs, I'm sure. "Hold on, kid! We're going down!" *rolls eyes* He also had to wear diapers. So not cool. Phoenix would've had to take time off of work to take care of him, which wasn't an option. So, we had to pass on him. And I tried not to think about why a little boy is in a body cast for a "broken leg"...It would have to be his hip or femur to need to be in such a big cast, you know? *shakes head* Let's not think about it. Finally, we got a call and it was another sibling group, but they needed to find somewhere quickly for the youngest brother who is 2. Yay! Another 2 year old! We'll call him Mr. Mischief. It sucks to admit this, but he's absolutely adorable. He doesn't talk a lot, but he's a sweet little boy...And he's ALL boy...Like rough and tough little boy. lol I picked him up on my way home from work on the Monday before Christmas. I met his brothers. It was very strange. He looks like he might be white and African American. He has a three year old brother who looks Mexican and African American...And a 9 year old brother who looks straight up African American. No way would anyone think they were all related. Basically, I walked in and CPS was like, "Here you go." And I took him home. I have grown somewhat attached to the little guy in the last week and a half and today Phoenix got a call from CPS asking if we wanted the 3 year old as well. We can't. It just won't work with our cars. So, CPS says they might have a house that will take the 3 year old...and Mr. Mischief. *sad face* I know he'll be better off with his brother, but it sucks. He's such a cutie, not to mention, he's way less drama than Hurricane and Sir Complains A Lot. It figures. We're going to have the two girls until they're married or something, but the cute little boy comes and goes so quickly...
In other news, our puppies ran off. We went to California at the beginning of the month and Phoenix's mom puppy-sat them. While they were there, someone kicked in her back gate and our dogs were gone. Either they took them or our stupid, lovable dogs ran off. Dumb dogs...We've watched Craig's List and the pound, but to no avail. We had just spent over $100 registering them too!! Not to mention all the money Spencer cost me by chewing everything up! Or Madeline and her need to rip out the drip system in the backyard...Fucking dogs!
And what blog would be complete without some words about work? *sighs* Work, work, work...I think that I would have an absolute heart attack if just one card holder would take responsibility for their own mistakes, but in our society, that appears to be too much to expect. I am also pretty damn sure they don't listen to a thing they say, let alone what anyone else says. For instance, listen to this craziness that we all hear almost daily--"I mailed my payment in two days before it was due! I don't know why you are sitting on my check not posting it!" Ummm...In what universe do you live in, dumbass, where it only takes two days to mail something from Seattle to Dallas? I mean, really. Especially at Christmas time. So, two days to mail it that far and for it to be processed at our payment processing center and posted to the account. You're right, American Citizen, you mailed it in plenty of time. Our workers must've had a slow day. Please, let me credit you for that late fee and I'll throw in some extra points on your account to make up for you having to take five minutes out of your life to call in. *rolls eyes* I had a guy argue with me that he doesn't have any control over the USPS. I said, "Neither do we." He didn't like that, but come on! I work for a credit card company--We want your fucking money! Why would we not process your payments? It's just nonsense. And we offer free pay by phone! How much easier can we make it? Today I had a guy call in asking about a balance transfer. He said he initiated it ten days ago and we still aren't showing it, so we must be milking him for every penny of interest we can to pay my bonus. I sort of laughed at the absurdity of it and refrained from pointing out that I would not be getting much of a bonus at all since assholes like him give me shitty survey scores because they are pissed at my company. I am so over jackasses saying things like, "The service was great, but...." and then go off about shit that wasn't on the call with me and give me a shitty score. I want to call back and be like, "Thanks, dick face." Dick face? Who says that? I have no idea where that came from, but whatever. It's how I feel...And how a lot of my co-workers feel. It sucks. I suppose I probably wouldn't be so outraged about all this shit if I had had some sleep recently, but I haven't. I've gone five nights without sleeping through the night and without getting much more than a couple of hours of sleep. I have bronchitis and I'm so not in the mood to deal with anyone. I nearly told a lady today that I didn't care if she canceled her card. She was pissed over an interest charge and told me that if I didn't remove it, she would cancel her card. I had to mute my phone and bite my tongue for a moment to refrain from saying, "I'm not removing the interest charge. It's a valid charge. And I can cancel your card for you." I mean, seriously. Threats mean nothing to me...Unless you say you know where I live and what I drive and that you're going to come get me...Then I'd gladly remove the interest charge and give you whatever you want...*grins*
It just gets old after a while. They talk to us like we're a bunch of morons. No, ass monkey, I'm not the idiot who expected my payment to go from China to Idaho in two days. I'm also not the idiot yelling about a charge not going through when I'm already $4000 over my limit. Nor am I the jackass screaming at someone on the phone just because I can. Nope, I'm the poor sap trying to make ends meet by working at a shitty job, getting yelled at by idiots, because I need a job. And on some days, the only way I make it through my day is by joking with my team at work. My team is the biggest bunch of misfits I've ever met, but I'd be lost without them. I mean, who else would go along with my jokes about how I'm coughing up my lungs and other spare organs like my spleen and liver? Haha! This is the same team who still loves me even when I get so pissed off on calls that I throw my mouse or flip my keyboard. (I know, it's immature, but it's hard to take it sometimes.) And on the other side of my cubicle wall is where Ken sits with Barbie. Ken should get an award for his temper tantrums. He literally stomps his foot and sometimes slams his hand on his desk. I joke that I didn't bring my riot gear and hard hat to work, so he needs to keep it down. Or on other days, I've been known to ask if there are cockroaches running around and if he's killing them. lol We all have our days, but we all find ways to joke about it to survive...
All right, well, that's it for me tonight. It's late and I should be trying to get some sleep. I think I hear half a bottle of Nyquil calling my name...Or maybe just the bottle of Tequila...You know, whatever.
