I tried posting yesterday, but one of the many things that annoy me was hard at work. My laptop is in desperate need of an overhaul. I have a feeling I may have some virus in my system as it’s taking forever to load even the simplest of pages. After I’d spent nearly half an hour writing a post, something wonky happened and of the 500+ words in my post, only 28 actually decided to make an appearance! Gah! I didn’t have it in me to try posting again. Had I tried the laptop may have found refuge inside the television, and I’d have been out one laptop and one TV!

My original post had to do with cyclists. Yes, they annoy me to no end. You’re driving your car, just cruising down the road and you wind up behind a band of these guys. You know there is no way they are actually going the speed limit, so you wind up waiting for the moment when there are no cars in the oncoming lane just to go around them. Basically you have to nearly put yourself in the path of an accident to avoid running one of these fuckers over. There I said it, they’re fuckers! My annoyance with these morons is compounded by the fact that my boss is an avid cyclist and I can no longer stand the man. Which brings out my next annoyance, stupidity.

My boss called me on Saturday morning. He basically wanted me to stop what I was doing or had planned to do that day so that I could drive home, log into my office computer and write him a check on Quickbooks. After telling him I was at my father’s house and that I didn’t know what time I’d be home, he became miffed, only to finally calm down when I asked him why he just didn’t write the check himself? I could hear that epiphany moment building up in the deafening silence! “I can do that?”

Okay, WHAT THE FUCK?

“Uh, yeah, why wouldn’t you be able to?” I asked. I had no idea why for the last two years this man has constantly bothered me at home to specially write a check for him. Turns out, he didn’t think that he could write checks out by hand, if we used Quickbooks. Honestly, I can’t wrap my head around that one.

Really? Why the hell would it matter to a computer program if you decided to write out a check or print it? It’s information you enter! A check is a check. I mean, is it me? Do I expect too much? This man pays himself six times what I get paid and he has the intelligence of a pap-tart!