It’s WTF Wednesday, y’all!!!

Dear Hostess, 

While myself and all the other poor addicted snack cake bastards are extremely glad that things turned out for the better and you brought us that little yellow spongy cake filled with white fluffy goo morsel of horrible deliciousness, I need to voice my disappointment.

You see, for many years, 43 to be exact, I have had my guilty pleasures satisfied by your delicious individually portioned snacks. I’ve enjoyed the SuzyQ, Cupcakes, Twinkies, HoHo’s, Sugared Donuts, those delicious poppable crunch-coconut Donuts…and lastly, but most importantly, the Berry Pie. 

While this list of goodies has probably made a few of my readers cringe and others raise their fist in solidarity – in their minds…because everyone knows that *no one* admits outwardly to enjoying a Twinkie – but the beauty of it is, you and I both know differently. It’s usually the one that complains the loudest about them being the most unhealthy snack – who you will find empty “shame wrappers” under the bed and shoved behind chest of drawers. 

Here’s my beef with your big comeback, Hostess. 


Ever since that whole company liquidating debacle and the fact that hoards of people stockpiled Twinkies as if the end of days was rapidly approaching thinking that if they were lucky enough to be spared, at least they’d have 18,000 packages of Twinkies on hand, I have searched high and low for your delicious Berry Pie, only to be let down time and time again. 

So please explain where they went. I cannot be the only weirdo who loved those suckers. Now? I have to settle for what I refer to as “Ghetto Berry Pies” because they are typically the store brand…and it’s just not the same thing, yo. 


Feel free to leave a comment. 

Sassyland – People Pleasing and Saying No

Hi Guys…I’ve got something to get off my chest…

I come from a long line of over-achievers. Entrepreneurs and self-starters. I have a business mind. I like that about myself. I think full-circle, I know what it takes to make something succeed. I love my job for those very reasons. I’m an apartment manager. It’s basically running your own business on behalf of someone who is taking all the risk and reaping all of the reward, which I’m fantastically happy to do. I love everything about property management. Even when these asstards don’t come in and pay their rent or give me a hard time.

For the last few months, I offered my expertise to one of my Management Company’s “Property Managers” (a “property manager” manages the Managers…so basically someone who is in the same position as my boss.) to help get his Apartment Managers on track with the way our company needs things at the property level to run. My outlook on this task is simple, bring these managers up to speed on how to run the Management System that we use, help them get organized and to help them shine and succeed, so that we can save the account which will help to save 7 properties in our company’s portfolio.

Recently, I was asked if I’d like to “lease” a few single family homes in a development that we manage for an owner. There were 4 vacancies within this community. I would only be responsible for leasing these homes – which means I’d need to market them and show them and sign the lease with the new resident. Herein lies my issue.

I’m a control freak. There…I said it.

The troubles I have with this task are both professional and personal.


  • I don’t have control of when maintenance needs to be done on these homes when the time comes for someone to move out. Vendors need to be contacted, work scheduled and there needs to be a sense of urgency to get things done so that we can get someone else in there. I have the power
  • At the time I was offered this position, it would be on top of what I’m doing already with the other properties that I’m “helping” get up to speed. I’m already taking 2-3 hours per day Tuesday – Friday to do this.
  • The properties are about 40 minutes from my house, 25 minutes from my home property, that I’m still responsible for.
  • When I said “Yes” it was with trepidation, thinking about all of the things I’d have to juggle so that I could be sure that I was still helping at my property as well as helping the other managers with their properties.


  • My nephew did a “terrible/awful” and we may or may not have some very serious things to attend in the coming months and we are sort of on-call for if/when these things occur. (yes, I’m being purposely vague…it’s too much to type and waaaaaay too much to put out there on the interwebs.)
  • My brother-in-law is a hot mess and is in horrible health and is in constant need of help, it seems.
  • My mother and father in-law are very old and sickly and both have health issues. We seem to be the only children in the family that can rush to them at a moments notice to help them or buy them groceries and a myriad of other things.

As you can see, my plate if fairly full as it is, without adding this task to the list – and I haven’t even added anything about my personal family unit.

For my sanity, after a week of answering inquiries, trying to coordinate with the person that is in charge of getting the vendors set to complete these homes so that they can be re-rented, I sent an email saying I felt that it was a good idea if I didn’t accept this job at this time.

If you knew me personally, you’d know that I have probably lost several hours of sleep the last several days obsessing about how I could possibly manage to make this work…and the thing is…I feel that it would take less energy to be in control of the whole thing – from beginning to end – than to just be the person that shows the homes and signs leases with new residents. The worrying about the unknown drives me up the wall. I guess I’d prefer and it’d be less stress for me if I had complete control than only partial and be the person hanging on a thread waiting for someone to finally tell me things are ready and have to constantly ask if things were done.



I hate saying no. I’m learning to say no more frequently and that probably comes from “being of a certain age”. Being of a certain age also helps you realize what kind of people you want in your life and what tasks you are comfortable taking on and which battles you choose to take on and which ones you need not bother with.

Having been a people pleaser for much of my 43 years has brought with it a lot of frustrations. You learn a lot about the things you let bother you and how to surround yourself with people that enrich your life rather than drain you of your will to live. You learn a lot about your own limitations and what it takes for you to be happy and to create balance. You learn a lot about what you absolutely will not compromise on. You measure the risk vs. reward and learn what true pros and cons are. Genuine-ness takes the front seat and Superficial-ness gets dropped at the curb.




The internal dialogue of falling asleep…and math.

It’s 11:00pm and I start the internal dialogue…

“If I close my eyes now, I will get approximately 8 hours of sleep. That’s enough, right?”

a few minutes later…

“I’m never going to fall asleep. Why does this happen? Maybe if I roll over onto my stomach and tuck my arm under my pillow and wrap the free arm around my chest and tuck my hand under my shoulder, I’ll be comfortable enough to doze off.”

“Why is he BREATHING LIKE THAT! Sweet JESUS he needs to get a sleep study done! That can’t be healthy!”

…I kick him a little under the covers…

“Good…he gasped for air…he’s still alive. THANK GOD!”

…peeks at the clock…

“Holy shit, it’s 11:45…that means I have 6 hours and 15 minutes until I have to get up. Tomorrow is going to suck ASS!”


“Did I set the alarm for 7 or 8? Jesus…where is my phone?! It’s so fucking dark in here!” 18 items hit the floor from my nightstand…met with a grumble and snort from my erratically sleeping husband.

Blinded by the light of the display on my phone, I wince and shut my eyes quickly realizing that my glasses were one of the 18 items that fell to the floor in my attempt to feel where my phone was placed on my nightstand. Realizing I’m blind enough to not be able to read the time display on my phone and also the fact that I had not reset my alarm clock on my bedside since the last time we tripped a breaker in our rather old house, I figured I’d squint to bring the numbers into focus…I had set my phone alarm to wake me up at 8am.

It’s midnight.

“I better set my alarm for 7am. That way, I can psyche myself out and hit the snooze a few times before I actually have to get out of bed.”  I adjust my alarm for 7am. I set the phone back on the nightstand.

“So, if I wake up at 7…and don’t *really* have to get up until 8…I can hit the snooze button…how many times? One hour = 60 minutes. 60 divided by 9…SIX!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I can hit it 6 times. Whew. Glad we got that figured out.”

“What was that noise? Did I lock the door after I let the dogs back in? Crap…if I didn’t…no, I did. I must have. Shit. FINE. I’ll go check.” Carefully getting out of bed so as to not step on the glasses that fell off of my nightstand.

yyyyeeaaahhh…it was locked. Good thing I got up, though. Now I have to pee.

Climbing back into bed…

“Seriously, I can’t keep living like this. That’s IT! I’m going to brush my teeth at 8:30 tomorrow go to bed early! I mean it this time…I’m SICK of it!”


Calm down crazy, you know your favorite TV shows start at 8pm. There’s no way you’re going to follow through with this plan. You and I both know – wait…”You” and “I” are the same people…this just got really weird. Shut the fuck up and go to sleep you freak!”

The sad part is…most of this happens the same way while I’m sitting on the couch until 11pm…”I swear I’m getting up at the next commercial…”







Apartment Manager Tales #70: *facepalm*

Can we all just agree that paying your rent on time is YOUR responsibility and that it’s NOT the responsibility of your APARTMENT MANAGER? After all, we DO give a 5 day grace period before late fees are imposed.

Man up – or woman up – AND PAY YOUR FUCKING RENT ON TIME.

Guess what happens if I don’t pay my house payment on time, y’all?





add *muthafuckah* to that…

Hi Sassyland: Parenting ain’t for sissies, you guys.

Y’all…there is some brutal honesty in this post…

Lately, things have been pretty tense in the house with my extremely moody teenager.

Let’s just say that I probably won’t be getting the Parent of the Year Award this year. Ya wanna know why? M’kay…

I told her, and I quote, “Get the fuck OUT OF HERE RIGHT NOW!” the other night. Yeah…it wasn’t my best moment. Here’s the deal, yo…

Parenting ain’t for sissies, y’all…

These creatures that I brought into the world are beautiful, articulate, highly intelligent and downright frustrating as all hell. I knew the minute I said it I’d feel bad about it…and I did – sorta. But I’ll be honest…it took awhile for the eye rolling and the heavy sighs and the stomping around the house and the door slamming and the acting like a complete twit to bring me down to that level.

So here is what I’m going to fucking do about it:

I’m going to leave the room and compose myself from now on. I’m going to focus on positive reinforcement instead of getting pissy about the attitude.


Every time I get an eye roll, I’ll tell her that her eyes are REALLY BIG AND BRIGHT TODAY…


When she stomps up the stairs, I’ll tell her I love her shoes or socks.


When she slams the door, I’ll tell her she’s got one heck of an arm.



And when she talks back to me, I’m gonna ask her “Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?!”

…I may have to work on that last one. Your suggestions are welcome.

So I’m going to LAVISH her with positive reinforcement, asking about her day – which I normally do, but I’m going to take it to a new level. I’m going to schedule time for us to just hang out together alone. Just the two of us. I’ll show interest in different ways with regards to the things that make her tick. I’ll cook her special meals…all to win her back and extinguish the attitude. Then, at least I won’t be able to say I didn’t try. And if it continues…I’ll plunk her ass in therapy so quick it’ll make her head spin.


What Not To Do: Century Link Salesperson

Your name may be on our football and soccer field in Seattle, WA…but you are a fucking asshole, Century Link.

Just got a call at my office from our friendly Century Link Sales Representative. Talking about how the lines to our office are actually theirs and that Comcast is “utilizing” them and are simply the “billing party” and that we should switch.

Sales 101:

  1. Don’t ask me to tell you how much I’m being charged before you tell me how much you’re willing to charge me.
  2. No, I will not send you my current bill so that you can make a lame-assed attempt at “beating a price”.
  3. Don’t talk to me as though you’re “just going to go ahead and switch me over” because I’m not giving you permission to do so.
  4. When I say to you “For the record, in case this call is being monitored for customer assurance, that I am NOT giving you permission to do any kind of service change whatsoever.” Do NOT come back with, “This isn’t the 90’s………” I will call you out on your condescending tone and will promptly end the call.

Dear Century Link,

Matt Davidson is a douche. His direct line is 1-877-804-4180. If you call back and I am the one to answer the phone, you will certainly be told to never contact this office again.


The Property Manager BITCH of the UNIVERSE.