Yo, yo, major shout-out to my homies Debbie, drm2b, duckie, and Steph, kickin it out there in Bloglizzand, who managed to get through my very long rant from Friday and even offer some mothafuckin words of encouragement on the situation. I appreciate it, mothafuckas. Word, homie, etc.
I love disguising myself as a white Irish guy whose only knowledge of the 'hood comes from movies and music, when in reality I'm a mothafuckin G'd up hustla slangin rock down in LBC, reppin 213, straight up, beeeatch. G's up, ho's down, and bounce to this shit. I am drunker than a mothafucka.
This might be my last post for a few days, because I have a nightmare week ahead here at work. I really grudge doing overtime, because I don't get paid for it, but I'm just gonna have to suck it up for now. It'll pass, as it always does.
This morning, I had a mothafuckin meeting with my manager. A timely meeting, considering the enormous rant I had about him on Friday.
He played me. Played me like I was a damn gee-tar and he was muhfuckin Hendrix or some shit.
He told me:
- how much he appreciates me in general
- he knows how hard I work
- that I'm the most knowledgeable and experienced person on the mothafuckin team and he would be totally lost without me
- that I am an example to him and teach him lessons every day on how to manage his time and prioritising his workload
- that he looks up to me
- that he's happy to just let me get on with things, because he trusts that I know what I'm doing
- that he is very grateful that I do all the additional shite he asks me to (read: his work) without complaining
- that he's impressed that I always have time to help others out.
- that he wants to give me more opportunities because he doesn't want to lose me (this after I told him I'd likely only be staying until March next year or so)
Basically, at this meeting, he systematically invalidated all my reasons for being annoyed with him. Which really fucking pissed me off.
Now, of course, it remains to be seen whether or not he follows through.
One thing that did annoy me in our meeting (I wouldn't be me if something didn't piss me the fuck off...) was that he kept saying things like "I mean, we're mates as well as colleagues, so I want to see you do well...".
Okay, on the surface, that seems fine, but frankly, I'd rather separate the whole friends/colleagues thing and not speak about the friendship part when we're talking about assessing my career. I don't need a mate putting in a good word to progress in my job - I want to be measured on my performance, not be subject to a fucking nepotism that I didn't ask for. He thinks he was being nice, but really, it was a bit insulting.
Other than that, life's great. My little boy was five weeks old yesterday. I'm conscious that I've blogged about him very little, but to be honest, he hasn't done very much. He's a beautiful little bundle of perfection, and I love him with all my heart, but at the moment, all he does is sleep, cry, eat, piss, shit, then sleep some more.
Five weeks. Fucking hell, time really does start passing faster and faster as you get older, eh?
Comment from Erin while I massaged lotion into her back (she's my almost-two-year-old daughter, so shut it):
"Mmm...that's nice and dangerous."
Duckie's right. They don't know it, but kids are the funniest people around.