I got an offer (pre-qualified! limited time!) for a Visa black card.
Okay, that's out of my system. They have clearly mistaken the flow of money out of our household for wealth rather than the medical desperation it has been. Fools. Anyway, I am wholly uninterested in paying an annual fee of $495 for the privilege of making myself more broke. Although, the rules and regulations have a footnote that informs me, only 1% of the US population is offered a black card. Oooh. It entitles me to 24-hour concierge service! An exclusive(!) rewards program! VIP(!) airport lounge access! Luxury gifts! And it's made with carbon! Wow. So is most everything that resides on Earth. Like pencils, bacon fat, bong water, and a fair percentage of dog turds. Well, you know what they say: I bet once you go black, you don't go back. Or something. But haven't these banktards heard about the credit, mortgage, foreclosure, unemployment, and healthcare crises? Where have they been? Partying with Goldman Sachs? I'm still paying off the five-figure IVF clinic and pharmacy balance on my Mastercard, so I'll pass.
In other not-so-equally amusing news, I learned today that my group at work is mandated to overtime (45 hours of billable work per week, with any nonbillable internal meetings or training piled on top of that) from now until whenever. Apparently several business units that I suspect are comprised primarily of lazy assholes are falling far short of their productivity goals for the first quarter; now the rest of us more responsible and industrious employees in the successful business units get to pick up the slack. This just kicks ass seven ways to awesome. My usual 40 hours per week already feels like eternal damnation right now -- this can only make it rock harder. Supposedly, if we make up the slack by second quarter we will return to business as usual. If not, I will locate the homes of the lazy a-hole squad and knock some skulls. Detroit what?