Bzzzzzz

From wine, and not all that much of it, but it's still pleasant.

I was pretty zomboid today. Jane called this morning and we had a fine chat; she was out of town this week, hangin' with her 8-month-old granddaughter (and her daughter and son-in-law), so we had some catching up to do. We had an additional supplemental chat when i got back from dinner at Crunchy Hippie Restaurant. And Mom called this afternoon; she's making my dad go to a lung specialist, ostensibly about his cough, though likely because the CAT scan (?) that was done as part of the bladder cancer diagnosis turned up a spot on his lung that is likely asbestosis--given his occupation, that wouldn't be uncommon--but of course could be something else, plus the cough, which could be nothing, or a side effect of one of his meds (he has managed to exhibit the most bizarre of the side effects for several medications over the years). (Did you follow that? I'm not sure I did.) And I edited some stuff, and did a lot of vegetation.

I also found out that my gynecologist does, in fact, accept my health insurance, though I probably shouldn't get a pap smear tomorrow, if i can wait another month, because (a) the health insurance has a 90-day waiting period for "preventive" things like pap smears, and (b) if i try to get a pap smear as a followup for HPV-related dysplasia (which I should have and would have done in November, if Chuck had paid the COBRA), it won't be covered because they won't pay for anything related to HPV, and (c) of course I got my period early-ish. What a fucking pain in the ass. I find it appalling that routine health care like this is basically prevented by the health care insurance system. Given my situation, a Reasonable System, one that was truly interested in promoting the health of individuals and communities, would encourage me to get regular screening and any other damned thing I needed, because failing to do so could kill me, and with a cancer that is among the most treatable on the planet, particularly when caught early, as a result of regular screening. Instead, I have to pay for said screening out of my pocket, and, were I to need additional treatment, pay for it myself, die, or throw myself on the mercy of a lame-ass system of insurance for people who have a History. (Who reaches the age of 48 without any pre-existing conditions of any kind?) And all of this pales in comparison to Ron's sister's experience, and recent death. It is wrong--morally, ethically, and every other -ly--to not provide health care when it is within our means to do so. Instead, capitalist insurance companies are interested in Shareholder Value & Profit, or some such shit, presumably because said shareholders are wealthy enough to take care of these problems or purchase insurance for these problems and therefore are unaware that the majority of us are fucking struggling along here.

Okay; change of subject.

Friday night I was (what a surprise) working late; mixing my dough for Saturday, IIRC. Bossman is throwing bread into the oven to thaw it out; one of the regular restaurant customer's orders apparently wasn't filled, so he's pulling stuff out of the freezer to fill it. Bossman's wife comes in and starts harping on him. What's the customer doing? (It's only going to be five minutes.) Is that five minutes or ten minutes? (It's not a problem.) Why is this happening? Why are you working late while everyone else has left? Why don't you have a meeting and find out what happened and hire some competent people?

And on and on. I had to bite my tongue to keep from jumping in--which would have been wrong on SO many levels--but it was pretty annoying. Despite the fact that she collects a salary of some kind from the business, despite the fact that her husband has been in this business for, oh, 35 years (and loves it), despite the fact that this business affords her a reasonably nice life, and despite the fact that she does maybe 6 hours/week of actual work for this business, she persists in telling Bossman what he's doing wrong and how he should be doing things differently. And does she really think she's going to get better people than Johnnie and Phil and Artie? For the wages they (can afford to) pay? She's fucking delusional if she thinks that, and she doesn't know shit (despite her assumption that she knows a lot), and she's clueless about the industry. Let's not forget that Bossman told me--after two weeks--that he couldn't afford to pay me what I'm worth; and I'm not THAT damned special. Johnnie can do any job in the place; he does beautiful decorating work; he has off every other Sunday, i.e., he works 10 to 12 hours a day, 26 out of every 28 days. Just who, exactly, does she think she's going to get?

Bossman let it slide, and I, of course, at the time pretended I didn't hear a thing, and I have no intention or desire to fix any of the things that are wrong there. I figure the best I can do is give it my best effort, laugh at his jokes (which isn't hard, because he cracks me up; I wish i could remember what he said yesterday that made me double over), give him feedback in the areas where my feedback is relevant and helpful and wanted, and help out in the ways I can. He told me yesterday that the reason the order wasn't filled was because the night guy said he "ran out of dough." Um, okay, but . . .? I think Bossman was glad he could tell me what had happened (especially given what I had witnessed) and know that I would understand his frustration at the night guy--c'mon, dude, how long have you worked here? figure something out! don't just not fill an order!--without ranting about said night guy. We've also been commiserating about NP; i think he appreciates being able to discuss the situation with someone who isn't castigating him for Not Dealing With It Properly. What we're going to do, apparently, is hire the woman who's been working with me on Saturdays, starting as soon as she finishes up; she's willing to stay until at least September, which gets us through the markets. Plus the other Saturday person is going to do her internship with us, starting in July. As a result, NP is going to be history ("we're going to tie a rock around her neck," according to Bossman) as of the end of June.

It's been educational for me, because NP is so unbelievably incompetent, in so many dimensions. I've worked with incompetent people before, but they've had MBAs, so they're better able to at least (a) appear to be working and (b) sling the bullshit. Not to mention (c) get a much higher salary than me. NP is a whole other kind of incompetent.

Okay, enough ranting. I want sleep.