So, I got a promotion yesterday at work. Eight months in and I’ve been promoted to a higher level admin. The promotion also comes with a nearly 20% raise. Yee haw! It’s also DOUBLE what I was making this time last year at the newspaper.

As my boss was explaining to me the motivation for the promotion, all I could think of was, “If only that m-f-er at the paper could hear this, too.” I’m not stupid! Ya hear that! They like me! They really like me!!! I guess I’m not a sorry, stupid baby after all.

My dad thinks I need to let it go – being pissed about all the crap I dealt with at the paper, that is. I’m sure he’s right but at the same time, all that anger is what fuels me to be the best at my job now. Maybe I should be thankful that my last boss is such a weenie. Maybe not.

Oooooooooooooh early morning sunshine…. I’m going to miss thee when US Law forces me to “spring forward” this weekend. It’ll be back to driving to work in the dark for another few months. *sigh*

I did watch the Oscars last night (well half of it before I fell asleep) and as much as I’d like to offer up my thoughts on the winners and losers, I didn’t see any of the movies. At all. Except for “Coraline” which was only nominated for one Oscar, I think. Most of the movies sit atop my Netflix queue, where they’ve been for months, with the dreaded “very long wait” next to them. I’m beginning to wonder if Netflix even has these movies… is it some big Netflix conspiracy? Either way, I’ll save my Netflix rant for another day.

Even though I haven’t seen any of the movies, I’ll comment on the Oscars anyway, since that’s how I roll.

- I wish Neil Patrick Harris had been the host. I got excited when he walked out on stage to kick off the night. I loved him as Doogie, I loved him as Dr. Horrible, I loved him as host of the Tony awards, fuck, I just love him.

- During Steve Martin’s and Alec Baldwin’s opening monologue, I wondered one thing: Was George Clooney only pretending to sit there like a smug prick, or is he really one?

- Ben Stiller’s “spoof” was Epic Fail… for the second year in a row. Here’s an idea, why not walk out on stage and show some respect for an 80-something year old award? Or at the very least, be funny.

- I LOVED the John Hughes tribute. Mostly because I loved John Hughes. And Molly Ringwald. Jon Cryer… not so much.

I’m so over this friggin winter (remind me I said that in July when I’m whining about humidity and heat). Commuting to work in cold, rainy, snowy, windy, cold crap every morning is whipping the life out of me. I try to tell myself that we only have another month (FUCK) to go until my mornings are a little better.

And don’t even get me started on that whole “Spring Forward” bullshit that’s on the horizon. Just as I’m beginning to get used to actual sunlight when I leave my front door each morning, daylight savings time is going to take it away from me again.

It’s leaving me to epic screw-ups at work. And I’m talking EPPPPPP-ICK… like setting up a conference call for your boss and sending all call participants onto a line that is already in use by someone else. Fun! Thank goodness I have one of the nicest bosses ever. Mean Boss would’ve reamed me out for that one.

On the plus side, I never tire of watching Ben Roethlisberger make a complete ass out of himself. Again. Nice one, Benny.

Remember the days when I used to incessantly bitch about Monday holidays? Yeah, those days are gone as I sit here in flannel pajamas – on a Monday holiday – sipping coffee and trying to decide if I should go back to bed or watch a movie. Life is grand.

But what’s not grand is the fact that my NFL DT’s have started to kick in. The glow of watching Peyton Manning lose the Super Bowl only goes so far. One week, actually. And I know this because it’s a mere seven days later and I’ve got the shakes. (Spare me your “Truck Day” bullshit. I don’t give a rat’s fucking ass about a stupid truck carrying stupid baseball bats to Florida. Not a rat’s ass {please excuse my crankiness – I am withdrawing after all}).

To keep my mind occupied, I have been watching a ton of Olympic coverage. The Winter Olympics is akin to putting a sports nicotine patch on my arm. It soothes the cravings but is by no means an adequate replacement. Except for figure skating. I love me some figure skating.

I’ve also been knitting like a machine. It’s soothing, I tell ya. Although, the dye from this yarn I’m working with is turning my fingers blue.