^^^ this. so. much. this. ^^^
I’ve pretty much been working nonstop since jackass’s last day. Seven day work weeks. Twelve hour days.
It’s ridiculous. Really fucking ridiculous.
I took this job because I didn’t want that type of responsibility. I didn’t want to work that hard again.
The good news is that I was told that Saturday was my last day of OT.
So… I’d throw a party and shit but I’m too fucking exhausted.
The italki New Year Language Challenge is on! Luckily (?), my tutor was on vacation for the first week of the challenge, so I haven’t started yet. I say luckily because if I had scheduled any classes for the first two weeks of January, I would have had to reschedule them.
No more OT = more time for Ukie classes!
Which totally reminds me about a whole thing going on in two of the Ukie Facebook groups I belong to. Simultaneously.
One person in one group brought up that they hate Ukrainians being called Ukies, and then someone else brought that discussion to the second group.
I didn’t know what to think at first…
I mean, I grew up with the word ‘Ukie’ - it’s who I am. I went to Ukie school (before my mother pulled me out), I went to a Ukie church, attended Ukie weddings, and my mother is buried in a Ukie cemetery.
Shit - for my birthday, I’m getting a personalised license plate that says UKIE on it. (And maybe a tattoo. Don’t tell J. I’ve always hated them, definitely hate the idea of something on me that I can’t take off if I grow tired of it, and don’t like the one on him… Turning the big 4-0 is definitely fucking with my head.)
One of the Ukrainian-Ukrainians - not a member of the diaspora - took offence to it. Compared it to the N-Word.
I think that’s taking it a tad too far, but since I’m in the States I’m probably not the best judge. The Canadians don’t seem to mind it either, so maybe it’s got something to do with the fact that we’re here and not there.
Knitting a test sock so I can try the fish lips kiss heel. I am so sick of working on the gift socks and having to tear them back because the pattern I’m using says that row gauge doesn’t matter. The fuck it doesn’t.
The only problem with test knitting is that I LOVE the test socks and want to finish that pair first. *sigh* I don’t think the gift socks will ever get done.
Maybe by the recipient’s 40th? (Happy birthday! Here’s some socks!)
In other news, Guinness had a thing on his nose that went from a bald spot (like he rubbed it on a door handle / gate latch a little too hard) to HOLY-FUCK-IT’S-SWOLLEN-AND-INFECTED in the space of a few days.
Since neither of us could take Monday off with a clear conscious, we went to the Emergency Vet last Sunday night.
He’s on some serious antibiotics and it’s starting to look better, but it was looking pretty rough for a while there. We had to deal with the cone of shame which is always fun. Big dogs without peripheral vision and no concept of spacial relations always make for a rip roaring good time. His first cone is held together by duct tape. His second cone is pretty much pristine because he figured out that picking at the scab means he has to wear the CoS.
I swear, that fucking dog is going to be the death of me.