Ouchy. Whine.

Oh, dear do I have Squooshneck.  

Squooshneck is what one has when one’s neck hurts so badly that one can barely move it, usually from holding one’s head cocked for too long…sort-of like my Squoosh does.  That’s why I rub his neck at least once a day—because he has Squooshneck.  And oh, do I have Squooshneck.  I feel as if someone took a tiny V-shaped wedge of wood and shoved it under my axis beneath my right ear, hoisting my C1 and C2 up by an inch on the right side.  Well, that is what it *feels* like.  For those that are interested, and don’t I know that we all are, this results in it hurting to turn my head, and I have a sore-ish throat.  

Damnit.  

It is probably from sleeping wrong.  When I got home last night, I was in such a mood that I screwed around online for a while and then went to bed.  I had one of those “is this a date, or not?” dinners last night and although I still am unsure what it was, I frankly do not give a fuck.  If anything comes of it, I may whine about it later.  :-)  But for now, I do not care.

First, ‘cos I was bored shitless last night; second, because I have Squooshneck.

Oww.

Speaking of Squooshable, he got into the dental floss again, and un-spooled half a roll of minty Oral-B floss Monday night, which I found Tuesday morning—along with Squooshbarf.  I was running late to work, so I begged Meg to stop by and take a look at him on her way to work.  He had barfed again, so she dropped him off at the vet’s on her way to work.  They x-rayed him, gave him a barium-thingy, and watched the Squooshpoop work its way through Squooshable.  They pronounced him Just Fine ($350 later), and I picked him up that evening.  Then yesterday night as I was cleaning out his litter box, I noticed he had pooped up a huge mound of dental floss, I guess a day or so ago.  Sigh.  I wish I could convince him to quit with the Poop-On-A-Rope endeavour.  I am a little upset, ‘cos I thought Dr Vet was saying that he *hadn’t* eaten any dental floss, but I guess he did the test to make sure that no dental floss had wrapped itself around his Squooshtestines.  Bwaah!  

I cannot take much more of this.  

And I found out cursory details yesterday, and then received the Full Assignment today—I have to travel next weekend.  Pfft.  Thanks for the warning.  I have to do it ‘cos the person who was going to do it (you know—the person whose job it *actually* is?) crapped out, so I have to catch a flight at like, three in the fucking morning Thursday night (okay, technically Friday morning), and I will be back sometime late Monday evening.  So I have to board Squooshable.  Grumble.  At least that will be expensed out, ‘cos I told them that I would do it No Fucking Way unless they picked up my vet bill.  Damnation, am I a bitch.  But this means that I have to probably change and do the whore’s bath thing in the god damned airport to go Be and Do on Friday.  I was offered to be allowed to fly out earlier on Thursday, but I cannot do it—I have other things I have to race and put to bed if I am going to be out of commission for four whole days.  Grr.  And I have classes all day Wednesday—there is NO WAY I can ditch those to get shit done so that I can leave at a reasonable time on Thursday.  And all this because someone at Eviljob’s eyes were bigger than their stomach, as it were, because their mouth was writing checks that their butterfly ass couldn’t cash…however one wants to think of it.  Farking loser.  

*And* my manager is quitting (I saw this coming *several* months ago; she is taking a higher position at another company), though how that effects me, I have no idea.  For all intents and purposes, I haven’t worked for her in several months other than in an “on-paper” sense.  And I know that they’re not hiring a replacement for her.  And I do not know what that means, either.  It is not a situation where I am afraid for my job, but it is a situation where I am concerned that the next person I have over me might be an asshole, which means less freedom…as if I had much now, or have no idea what I or others on Team A *do*, which means tolerating some idiot meddling in That Which They Know Nothing About.

And I HATE flying.

On the other hand, at least I am going somewhere that has a few cool places to go, and I will have half of Saturday and all Sunday free.  Grumble.

Okay, I am off the ‘pity me’ kick; I *did* bargain for Spring Break off.  Yay.  Now I guess I have to go with Meg to Reno over Spring Break.

Three guesses why.

I would go get a hot towel for my neck, but I am too damned lazy.  Sad, iddnit?  Staring at a monitor for eight hours straight today did nothing to help, but I did not want to push my luck and ask for today off at the spur of the moment as well, because I didn’t want to jeopardise getting the two weeks of Spring Break off.  Ow. Ow. Ow. Squooshneck. Ow.

I am going to go read stuff for classes this week and go to sleep, I think.