Bitching about Work

I have bitched too much about work, I think, and now Stacy is depressed. I apologize, Stacy. Today I don't need to bitch about work. It's just stressful. I'm handling several applications at once and I keep getting phone calls and questions.



Meanwhile, Davy has picked up hot chicks in the Monkeemobile!



I mean, meanwhile, I have registered for a class I don't really need just because I can't take the advanced class until I've taken the boring waste-of-my-time-and-money prerequisite class. I'm thinking about dropping it and getting my money back because I am also taking this same class at work and not even paying for it. Why take it twice if I don't have to?



Anyway, I've contacted the training person here at work and left a message asking if they offer the advanced class or if this is all there is. If I can get the advanced training at work, which is where I'd be using it anyway, then I'm getting my $500 back and dropping the Community College class. And they can take their stupid, overpiced book back, too.



Yes, yes, that would mean I won't get to sit in a classroom with hot 19 year old girls for 3 months, but somehow I suspect that they will be less than interested in me and I will simply be distracted and frustrated by them.



Just a hunch.



Also, I will be taking this class at work with the woman I work with who looks like one of those impossible science fantasy/comic book women. So that should charge my hormones for quite awhile. And I have applied to transfer into the group she is in, which uses these skills exclusively. If I get the transfer I will work with her every day and gain valuable job experience. Plus, I will be working back in the field I am trained for, which would be nice.



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