Hey, look, it’s the first post of the year!  I’ve been putting off updating the site until I’d upgraded the WordPress software, which was so horribly out of date that some of my plugins had stopped working right.  So last night I decided to hang out at work a little longer and upgrade to the newest versions of everything I use and now everything is shiny and new and wonderful (on the back end, anyway).  I had to stay and do it at work because for two months now I’ve been unable to bring myself to do it at home.  That’s because after ten hours of sitting on my ass in a dingy office, I’m likelier to parade around the house in winged sandals and a feather boa than I am to sit back down in front of another fucking computer.

You know, about a year and a half ago, WordPress wasn’t working so hot in one or two areas and I decided to just go ahead and write my own blog code.  I spent months working on that shit and it worked pretty well.  But every time I wanted to do something new, I found myself having to spend a lot of time reading up on PHP or tweeking it just right and after a while it just got too frustrating to deal with and I decided to give the newest version of WordPress a shot and wow, what an enormous difference.  The old version I was using was good but flawed.  The newer versions have all been stellar.  It really is a kick ass program.  I’m glad I wrote my own code because it forced me to learn quite a bit but when you compare the time and effort between doing it yourself and installing a program and running it through some tweeks, it just becomes increasingly silly to do it yourself.

Anyway, this will be the first thing I’ve written in over a month.  I decided to ignore everything for the holidays and just goof off with friends as much as I could and it was every bit as productive as I knew it wouldn’t be.  I’m a slack ass.

New Year’s Day was mostly spent doing nothing.  I successfully avoided the Rose Parade and the various Bowls.  Unfortunately, it was after 3pm before I stepped outside and discovered that I’d missed out on an entire day of perfect, gorgeous weather.  It was that nice outside, and it has been pretty much every day since.  Hooray for January in Southern California.

You know what’s weird?  I’ve gone through mild depression every December 26 through January 1 for as long as I can remember.  Almost exactly two years ago I wrote about this and I haven’t experienced it since.  Last year, everything was just peachy and this year I had the best Christmas I’ve had in years and The Awesome continued right on through New Year’s Eve/Day to this very moment.

Then there’s work.  For a variety of reasons, I purposely try not to talk too much about work here.  If I do, it tends to be something I think is too funny or odd or sad not to mention.  This is one of those times:

My boss is a horrible person.  She’s like Veruca Salt from Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory only with more severe temper tantrums and a cocaine problem.  Oh, and underneath it all, she’s not a troubled teenage girl, she’s a 51-year-old gorgon with a voice that sounds like cats having an orgy in an industrial mixer.  Never, in the almost 41 years I’ve spent meeting people, have I met anyone who has a less realistic idea of themselves.  She’s bitterly resentful that she’s in her fifties and runs around wearing shit she bought at Forever 21, which is simultaneously funny and sad, and she refuses to let on that she’s middle aged (though people seem to figure that out for themselves anyway…).  Part of my job is designing and maintaining web sites for her and she’s constantly giving me shit because the font size for the text is too small.  It isn’t, of course.  The actual problem is that her eyesight has turned to shit as she’s gotten older but her delicate ego won’t allow her to wear reading glasses.  I used to tip-toe around her ego every time she would complain but now I just tell her she needs get some fucking glasses because I no longer care if I lose my job.  I’m not joking, I’ve literally walked in on her reading web sites with a fucking magnifying glass.

Last weekend she bought a Teacup Chihuahua.  In a parking lot.  For fifty bucks.  Swear to God.  She bragged about this and then told me they normally go for $700 – $1300 and that there’s a good chance she bought a stolen dog.  She’s fine with this.  I’ll repeat that:  She does not have any moral qualm with purchasing a dog that might have been stolen.  Personally, I don’t think it was stolen.  I also don’t think she knows what she’s talking about.  I’m sure there’s a breed of Chihuahua that sells for that much and I’m also sure she doesn’t have one of those.  But that’s not why I tell you this.  I tell you this because she now brings the goddamn dog into work with her every day.  She walks around with the little fucker like she’s Paris Fucking Hilton…at the dildo factory.  Fucking ridiculous.  The goddamn dog looks like that “Yo quiero Taco Bell” dog.  And it’s so attached to her that it whines and cries and howls every time she walks out of her office without it.  And it’s not even dog enough to sound like a goddamn dog when it whines and howls.  It sounds like a fucking Seagull.  This is a new part of my every day life at work.  When she brought it into my office to introduce us, she told me I could pet it if I wanted to and I told her I couldn’t because I was allergic to dogs.  She asked if I was going to be alright if the dog was here and I told her I didn’t know but I hoped so.  She said, “You’ll be fine,” and walked out of my office.

I’m not even angry about it, I’m just kind of fascinated.  At this point, I feel like I should be keeping some sort of scientific journal like Jane Goodall:

Coco seems to have befriended a small dog today.  The male still forgets to flush the toilet.

Anyway, it’s just amazing.  And bringing it into work every day is one of the most inconsiderate things I’ve ever seen an employer do.  Fortunately, I’ve never defined myself by what I do for a living.  And I’m married to the coolest wife ever, and my family and friends are all doing well and aside from the economic fisting this country has had to take, and the subsequent poverty, things have never been better.  But Jesus, I need a new job.  Here’s hoping 2010 provides that.


Tim Hatch lives in a secret volcano headquarters somewhere in the South Pacific, where he controls the world economy and writes confessional poetry about his disappointing childhood.

His poetry has been published in MungBeing, East Jasmine Review, The Pacific Review, The Vehicle, Touch: The Journal Of Healing, Apeiron Review, and he is the recipient of the 2014 Felix Valdez Award.

He finds writing about himself in the third person to be an overtly seductive invitation to tell lies.

He once captured a French Eagle at Talavera.

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