Good and bad, good and bad, always both at once, never just good...

~Aug. 10, 2003~

Well, it�s been �One of those� weekends. Started out pretty cool but has somehow spiraled down with some peaks here and there. So let�s recap, shall we?

Friday I get to work and find the cutest Stitch boinger on my desk. Katrina, my first observer, found it and bought it for me as a birthday present. So I got to play with Stitch all day and had a little mascot for my car. For a day.

Work was tediously boring that day and most of it I felt out of it. Sort of like I didn�t really fit in that day, so I was quite happy when it got close to time to leave. Than find out that Pirates of the Carribean was playing so called J and asked if he wanted to come see it. He was annoyed because my calling had booted him off the net and he had been playing EQ. This being after we sort of talked about not playing while the boys were awake and runnin� around. But he says he�ll come out and we�ll watch it. GREAT movie! Loved it!

So we go see the movie. I come back to the office to collect my things and head home. Note here that I left Stitch at work so I could play with him this weekend as well. Can we say mistake? Anyway, I get home and we put the boys to bed and then J goes up to feed Cory. I lay down on the couch with a heating pad on my neck and shoulders which have ached all day and promptly pass out. J wakes me up when he gets home and I stumble to bed.

Cut to the next morning. There�s no coffee to drink on the way in, and I could NOT stay awake to save my life. Kept doing touch and gos while driving to work, which is not a good thing. So I was really surprised and quite happy to actually make it to work in one piece. Only to find that Stitch has gone missing. Well, lemme back up a bit, as I didn�t discover that until awhile later, though I did think about it at one point. Was just too busy to look for him at that point. �Course, if I had than, maybe I would have found him in time. NO! I�m not going to think like that. There�s no way in HELL his being gone is my fault...

Open my email to discover that Scruffie has had the puppies on time. All 7 of them are doing well, as is momma. 4 girls, 3 boys, and one of the boys is the wheaten color. The rest are brindle. So, my puppy is in the outside world now. YEA! Dunno which one is mine yet, but that will come later. I�m hoping that she, the breeder, won�t make me pick right now. That maybe she�ll wait a bit, let the personalities develop some, and that would be the earliest. I�d prefer to wait until I can be there, but I wouldn�t want the other people to have to wait that long. But, since I was the first to make a deposit, and a hefty one at that, you would think she wouldn�t mind. We�ll see, though. No pictures as of yet.. And that has been the high point of the weekend. *sighs*

Ok, so cut to 10 o�clock and I�m starting to work on the TAF. (Forecast) I look at the old on from 3Z and realize there was no 3Z forecast done by the last section. Niiiiiiice. So I throw one together, really shoddy one at that and get that out 30 minutes before I do the 9Z one. Brilliant.

It�s around this time that I started looking for Stitch, but couldn�t find him.

At the same time the CatB plane comes in, which means the air terminal is overrun by people that have just arrived and are waiting to leave again. Which means that there are lines for everything as well as nosey people around everywhere. So lunch was delayed until around 1 when they started reboarding. 20 minutes later they were deboarding the passengers as something broke and here come the hordes of people again. All in all, the flight that was supposed to leave at 12 didn�t leave until almost 5pm.

All the while I�m looking for Stitch and fuming more and more because I couldn�t find him. We were able to figure out that the last person Alicia had seen playing with him as Gibson. Little fuckin� prick with a serious short man�s complex... So it�s left in pass down to ask him if he knows what happened to it and I eventually leave work, leaving my backpack and laptop here since I�d just be bringing it back in the morning, today as it were.

Not much happens last night until right before bedtime when the phone rings and J answers it. Turns out to be Gibson. I get on the phone and he says �I hear you were all fired up today about your Stitch doll� I said yea, because it was missing and it still is. Turns out that yea, he knew what happened to it. He was messin� with it and they were supposedly talking about how I think Gibson hates me and he said �Well, she�d really hate it if I fucked with her doll� and than promptly puts it in the trash as a joke. Who the hell puts something that belongs to someone else in the freakin� trash!!?!?!?!! Especially a fucking birthday present! Especially after said person has just informed the whole freakin� command to NOT touch her stuff? Jesus Christ! So he says he�ll replace it blah blah blah. Whatever, dude. You shouldn�t have been fucking with it in the first fucking place. IT WASN�T FUCKING YOURS!!!

I mean, how difficult is it for people to understand that if something isn�t yours, you should at least ask before fingering it, hmmmm? How tough is that? It�s about personal boundaries and respect for other people. I�ve gone through most of my freakin� life wondering where my boundaries where after having Dan totally strip them away, and now when I think I�ve got them establish, people keep taking my shit. It�s MY stuff, in MY box yet people still seem to think it�s community property! Did they pay for the chips they ate out of my box? No. Did they pay for the hand lotion they use up? No. Did they pay for the pen they broke, or the pencil they stole? Or the freakin� doll they threw in the trash? NO! Than why the hell can�t they just leave it the fuck alone?!!!

Crystal, a lady I work with, said to booby trap my inbox with mousetraps so that when someone sticks their hands in it they�ll come back with sore fingers and I�ll be able to tell who�s been in it. I can�t begin to say how much this idea appeals and tempts me. Teach them to leave my stuff alone.

Than, today is looking like it�s going to be one giant pissing contest between Gibson and I. He�s decided, since he fucked up so royally and got something of someone else�s thrown out with the garbage, that all personal items will be removed from the spaces over night. What the fuck is that? It�s a weekend watch, there�s no one here except us, and if I want to leave my backpack under the desk, out of the goddamned way, I will. It�s not hurting him, it�s not hurting the observer. Hell, she likes me to leave my stuff so she has music and movies to watch. But nooooooo. Because he screwed up, he�s going to try and pull this shit. WRONG! First, I outrank the little fuckhead and WILL pull rank if I have to. Secondly, just because he screwed up is no reason to try and screw it up for everyone else, which is exactly what he�s doing. Third, the officers do it and I KNOW they�re not going to listen to some little punk short man thinkin� he�s Goddess�s gift to the command tryin� to lay down bullshit rules to cover his own ass. What a fuckin� prick. I am so mad at him right now, I can�t even talk to him on the phone. And he�s rubbing off on Shawn, who used to be cool. Gods, I hate this place. I can�t wait to get the hell out of here.

And to top it all off, I have to come in on 2 of my off days this week for bullshit meetings, so no sleeping in for me and no 3 day weekend this week. Gods damned fucking Navy. I hate it. With a fucking passion.

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