This guy who was just put on our work (not b-day lunch) team is becoming an asshole. He goes on and on about how he has to get enough protein and how much he can bench press ad nauseum. He makes protein shakes every day, and eats several boiled eggs every day. This gets on Rick's nerves, who shares an office with him. He finally had to tell him to eat his eggs in the break room so the office wouldn't stink of eggs all damn day. Now it's the break room. (I think the egg remnants stayed in the garbage all weekend and were rancid yesterday. Ewww.) When I sent the email to everyone about when/where/what, he starts in on how he'll have to eat many, many sandwiches to get enough protein. This continued through the lunch yesterday. He's watching the meat tray making sure there's enough turkey left for him. He's gonna "hit it hard." Whatever, Mr. Punyverse. No one cares. I have a special diet, too, but I don't go on and on about it. Damn he gets on my fucking nerves.

And why did my team end up with only 2 women? I'm not trying to be stereotypical, but damn. I mean, I don't like to cook either. If we do anything requiring cooking, the two women on the team or the men's wives end up having to do it. That's why we get pizza so often. I just delegate who goes to get it. OK, I've bored myself. I just had to rant for a minute.

I mentioned the CD-RW problem to Dean (he'd left it unplugged), and he said "You get what you pay for." True enough. That doesn't mean I can't give him a hard time.

So, the little contractor that could is bad-mouthing us in meetings (my boss was there). It took me an hour and a half to get to my side of town from work. Then I had to go directly to the chiropractor's. I'd better hurry to get two dinners cooked, the soaps watched, and a shower before Angel. Oh, and Buffy's ending. All of a sudden I'm depressed. I guess that's better than homicidal.

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My goddamn rock solid ghetto shiznit name is Munchi Teapot, Yo.
What's yours?
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