I started feeling fatigue a few years ago and it was found I had low B12 and now I take injections. A few months ago I found out my regular doctor was leaving and I had to pick a new one to get my prescription refilled. He insisted I come in to see him (which I guess is understandable), but he apparently didn’t read my file at all before I came in because he couldn’t figure out why they would give me B12 for fatigue and I had to keep telling him to read the damn file I don’t know!!
He did renew my prescription though, so thank god for that.
Give 'em hell, margin. My boyfriend is an Army vet dealing with PTSD. Fortunately we live near one of the good VA hospitalswhere they have resources to help and people who care. After all you’ve done, the least they can do is help repair the damage.
Bill’s plane is late. I’m going to have to drive to Phx in the dark. Phx driving scares me during the daylight, I hates driving there at night. And…I just got a text saying that he was too drunk to text. So much for my plan of making whoopy tonight.
Yesterday I was in a major hardware store (Bunnings for Aussie dopers). In the plant section and there was some guy there shuffling the seedlings around but he was also talking on his mobile (cell) phone. It wasn’t at his face as in a normal phone- somehow he had it held around his waist area and must have had some connection to use it and hear.
For all the world he looked like a worker there.
Some old chap - I mean in his 80’s with hearing aids and all- asked him where he could find something.
The guy on the phone went really crook- telling him he didn’t work there and he was on the phone and to have some manners. Absolutely no call for it whatsoever- he could have politely said “Sorry sir, don’t work here” or something similar.
What a hero. He hides among the plants to have some silly little phone conversation and then abuses an elderly client.
Seriously dad. The car dealership only wanted to run a credit check on you. I know, it’s silly, you’re paying cash and the check will clear before you pick up the car. That’s no reason to declare that you will never do business with them again. There’s also no reason to go into coded racist talk about ‘them’ when they say they have to do it on everyone nowadays. It is a stupid/criminal thing, not a racial thing dumbass.
Oh, and don’t tell me that I have to accept my sister’s insults and anger in silence because I said NO when, without asking me first if I was even interested in it, she promised her friend that she would buy their car from them and then make me make payments on it to her. A car that is older than the one I have with as many miles on it. Of course I’m not interested in it! She had no right to make that commitment without speaking to me first, no right to be angry with me for merely turning it down and a fuckload less of a right to stop talking to me over it. She can fucking grow up.
Yup, you’re right - she didn’t have any right to do any of those things. I hope she does grow up (but if this is the sister you’ve posted about who keeps on acting like an idiot), it doesn’t sound like she ever will.
As Alice the Goon noted, he didn’t work there.
I am contemplating a letter to the store because the way he dressed and the manner he was mucking around with the plants suggests to me that he may have been some sort of supplier to the store.
Against that, he would be almost impossible to identify conclusively and the old gentleman didn’t seem overly concerned himself- maybe due to his hearing aids he didn’t catch most of it.
I just don’t understand the need to be like that. (Also makes me wish I was 30 years younger and a lot fitter).
Why oh why oh why do I keep going into Walmart?* The trip wasn’t so bad this time, no screaming kids running amok, no aisles blocked by gossipers, they actually had all the items I was looking for, the store was clean. Until I get to the checkout…
This store was built with 27 checkout lanes. Three were being manned. No U-scans at this store either. (The lack of U-scans caused a big kerfuffle that I can share if anyone is interested.) People were stacked eight and nine deep in the checkout lanes. I know, I had plenty of time to count. I spent more time in line than I did in the actual store.
*Why do I go? They’re the only store in town that carries these powdered coffee things I love… sigh. Am I griping more about the store or my addiction to these coffee things? I dunno…
Am I doing this wrong? I thought that we were supposed to have wild swinging from the rafters sex every time we got 5 minutes alone during the courtship and then move to missionary with the lights out once a weekend after we got married. At least that’s what most of my divorced friends say happens.:smack:
I honestly use that on a couple of homophobes in the club when they are ranting about same sex marriage. “If you don’t like gay sex, let them get married, adopt a kid or 2 and buy a house. They will be so stressed that the icky sex thing will stop. Isn’t that what happened with you?”
We are officially engaged…or not. Bill’s cat gets along with my cats. They aren’t sharing food or grooming each other, but they can be in the same room without doing the feral scream and trying to kill each other. There has been some hissing and raised paws, but no contact.
However, yesterday, I learned that Bill isn’t a real Texan. We were talking about what I would bring with me and what I’d give away. Both of us are bibliophiles, so he went through my books and put postit notes on the duplicate ones. The bookcases will move. I’ll bring one kitty tree and he will buy more before I move…so the cats can have new stuff to scratch up.
Then we moved to my gun safes. Yes, I do have 2 fridge sized gunsafes. I opened them and he asked “Do you really need all of those guns?” When I challanged him, because no real Texan would question the need, he confessed that he had been born in Tennessee.
I feel so betrayed, so bereft. I thought I knew him and now I’ve learned that he’s a fake Texan. What else is he hiding?!?
flatlined—remember there ARE some things that TX frowns upon the sale of, that you will need to bring with you. After all, Bill might need a rest every once in a while…
Y’know, back a few years ago, there was a supermarket chain out here that had a “Three’s a crowd” policy (if any checkstand gets three deep in customers, you holler out “Three’s a Crowd!” and they open another checkstand, or they give you a buck in store credit for your next visit). The most salient result of this policy I can recall is that the chain got taken over by another chain a few years later, but that’s not important to me. These days, if I see unacceptably long lines at all of the checkstands, I’ll holler out “Three’s a Crowd!”
Sometimes it actually works and a new checkstand opens. When it’s Wal-Mart, I just take my purchases to the jewelry counter.
Why yes, I do consider that waiting at checkstands is something I shouldn’t have to do; why do you ask?
