I'm rich!

Got paid today and found out the amount was $2.30 more than usual due to an adjustment in the work comp classification. Whee! $2.30! If I save up both of them, that'll buy me one frou-frou coffee a month. Or I could be responsible with it and up my charitable contributions by that much (or, y'know, probably more). Either way, witness my joy. It's tongue-in-cheek, of course, though the net amount is now a much easier number to split between accounts.

Weather like this makes me crave strawberry-rhubarb pie or torte or tarts. It's not overwhelmingly warm here like it is in other places (Am I the only one stupid enough to be surprised how hot weather always merits such a huge amount of newstime? I mean, it's summer and there's always a heat wave.), but like I've said a million times I apparently sweat enough for three people. Contrary to what Old Spice would try to make you believe from their quite offensive and gross advertisements, a woman sweating isn't really all that sexy, especially if it's as she's handling a cash transaction at the bank. The tellers certainly don't seem to appreciate it.

And all of that is WAY more than any of y'all need to know about my sweat. Sorry! But not sorry enough to remove the TMI. :)

I don't get paid enough

I'm so glad I don't ever answer my phone, because Mr. Bigbossman from Job 2 just called me at home. After 9 PM.

Mr. BBM: Yeah, SBG, this is Mr. Bigbossman. You're probably out watering the plants right now...

Me, on sofa: WTF??

Mr. BBM: If they don't get water we'll end up losing them and our automatic sprinklers aren't working so I asked S. to ask you to water the plants every evening. Check in the garage storage to see if there are any sprinklers in there, because I think we only have one hose that you're probably using right now on the north side. Blah, blah, blah more about sprinklers and me doing stupid ass things like watering his damned plants.

Now, I honestly don't mind the task (well, I do a little, because the lazy maintenance guy could surely take half an hour out of his day to do this job instead of shooting the shit with S.)...but the calling me at 9 PM thing is annoying as piss, even if I didn't actually speak to the man.

And why on Earth, if I was asked to do this every evening, would I wait until dusk to go lurking around the building for half an hour? Seriously. Why?