It’s all relative. Sure, I’m in excruciating pain, but from my point of view **StrawberryDaiquiri ** seems to be far worse off than I am with the lice.
As a person who’s trying to lose weight, I can totally understand where you’re coming from with gaining two pounds, especially when you’re exercising a lot.
I’m giving you an out, here. I’d take it, if I were you. 
Lacunae, Snakes, Mr. Accident, and StrawberryDaquiri, those are not mini-rants. Those are full blown, time-to-gut-some-stuffies-to-get-out-the-rage, RANTS. You have my sympathies.
Thanks purplehorseshoe, Mr. Accident, and Morgyn. On the bright side, I get to miss a week of class because I’m highly contagious. My vet thinks I got it from the animal shelter I volunteer at. Great- do something good, and shit hits the ceiling and flies in your face. Oh well, time to go take a few melatonin and hopefully fall into deep sleep.
UPS, you are such a bunch of idiots, how do you stay in business? You try to deliver two packages to my house. It’s a computer and monitor, something I paid a fair amount for. I am not home…I work during the day, go figure. You leave the standard note that you will be back next day. I call customer service to tell you not to come during the day next day, nobody will be there. I get stuck in robo-voice hell for 20 minutes before I get a real person. Then you tell me (a) you can’t deliver evenings or weekends (b) you can’t notify the driver not to come, 24 hours from now, but © you CAN notify him if I change the delivery address, and of course you will have to charge me for that. Fine, charge me the stupid $6 fee and have him deliver my packages to me at work. But then you tell me NONE of my credit cards will go through! Um, no, my credit is not maxed out. $6 on my charge card will not call the wrath of Bank America down on me. Well, you can’t get it to work, so you tell me I’ll have to on-line to your web site and make all the changes myself. Thanks for nothing, idiots. But I do. Then, after you charge my card, you manage to deliver one package to my work site, but you STILL take the other one to my house, and, since I am not home, return it to the service center 30 miles away and leave me a note that I have to go pick it up. So I call back, livid, get stuck in robo-voice-purgatory again for another 20 minutes, eventually getting another clueless agent on the phone who charges my account, not once, but FOUR times to switch the delivery address yet again. How the F---- do you idiots stay in business? I will never use you again, that’s for sure.
And don’t get me started on FedEx. Twice this week they missed a scheduled package pickup from our lab, and they left another package in Memphis instead of delivering it to St. Louis where it was supposed to go.
Fuck today. Stuck volunteering all day at school because half the signed up folks didn’t show. Had a short fuse and snapped at one of the kids running rampant during the tear down (after I’d been there for eight straight hours and missed lunch). Happened to be the kid of the PTA president. She tore into me. Actually respect her for defending her kid – but she should have stopped before the personal attacks.
Came home, had the blues over it. Told hubby about it. Hubby said I’ve been snappish for absolutely no reason lately and I need to fix it. Thanks for having my back.
Then neighbor comes over with a note my kid says he found in their front yard and brought to them. It’s pretty mean about the neighbor kid. Neighbor guy is cool about it. But it looks like the paper came from our house. He says his kid is very upset and our kids won’t be playing together anymore. We promise to look into it. Hubby and I confront 'lil Andrew. Complete denial. Does not seem like the times we have caught him lying. (Not often, but he’s a kid). Handwriting comparison ensues between note and homework file. Some similarities, but some differences. 'Lil Andrew’s story about finding the note doesn’t add up. Neighbor’s story doesn’t completely add up either. We can’t tell for sure who is lying. So, after much discussion, and yelling, and tears, we decide to believe our kid.
So now we have to go tell our next door neighbor that we believe our kid. The one we’ll have to live across the street from for years. And did I mention he’s also 'lil Andrew’s pediatrician?
So, fuck today. Obliterate it completely. Wipe it from the calendar as if it had never been.
Fuck you, anxiety! Fuck you very, very much!
Yes, I know we’re going tonight to a family gathering that we -really- don’t want to go to, both for the company (anxiety rising) and the location (anxiety rising further). We are doing it because dad is DYING. We are relatively sure this will be his last passover. GO THERE FOR HIM.
And now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED to use this as an opportunity to bring up every little thing we’re stressing about and injecting it straight into my conscious mind. Not my health, not my friends, not my car. None of those fucking insecurities. They are OFF. THE. TABLE.
Go to the fucking meal. Endure the assholes that will be there. Leave early if you must. But STOP FUCKING AROUND IN MY HEAD. It’s one fucking night. We do NOT need to bring all the other problems in our life to the surface over this, okay?
FFS!
No, co-worker, your go-backs box is not full because you have so much responsibility, and such a high workload. Its because you never empty it. Everyone else in your department picks up their processed documents when they drop off new ones, but you, you are too delicate and overburdened to pay attention to your box. That is why you also only pick up a handful out of the full paper-box when I ask you to empty it, and consider it done.
And while I’m whining about you, learn to freaking walk in high heels or stop wearing them. You are five foot nothing, I shouldn’t be able to hear you clomping from across the (one-story, concrete floored) building. Not wearing shoes at home ever (just a guess, based on your background culture) is no excuse, you’ve had 3 years of wearing only heels at work. Give up. Switch to flats. (clop clop clop clop clop clop clop)
I love my job.
I like the guy I work with, who is the senior guy on our team.
I don’t like getting called 4-5 times a day and IM’d twice that many times by my control freak co-worker whose office is in another state. I especially don’t like that when I disagree with her over IM, senior guy’s phone will ring within seconds of me hitting the enter key. Today it was literally 3 seconds between enter key and his phone ringing. She may have him on speed dial, but I find it hard to see how she could read my two sentences and call him in that small amount of time. Or why she would feel the need to do that so fast. (I was right, btw, and he backed me up on it.)
All in stark contrast to senior guy, who tells me what a great job I’m doing and trusts that I will do things properly and ASK if I have any questions on how to do things. (Hell, I largely trained the new guy who started 4 weeks after me leaving senior guy to deal with his own already heavy workload.)
Then I felt bad because I felt like I had to apologize for being so incredibly frustrated by her behavior when I’ve only been there a month and a half.
All in all, that’s my only complaint. I love every other aspect of the job, the company, the people, the location, the pay. everything.
But it still makes me 
:mad: partly because I have my own issues with control freaks (my sister is a bad one), I don’t like being second guessed so much (feel like I’m not being trusted to do my job properly) and all in all do not want to have this or any other complaint about this job.
Workplace gripes is down the hall, fella.
First world problem, I know, but I’m getting annoyed with the one game I still play on Facebook. Actually, it’s more like I get annoyed on an intermittent basis.
You have to ask friends for help with materials and the like (it’s not a Zynga game, though). And about every 4-6 weeks, my ability to send those requests gets bolluxed. Which normally wouldn’t be an issue, but we’re getting to the end of a time-limited event which, once more, I’ll be unable to complete because I can’t get the materials I need and I refuse to pay for them.
And support has a habit of just saying, “yeah, we know there’s an issue, we’re working on it” and then closing the ticket. Really? You haven’t fixed the problem, so why are you closing the ticket?
Oh, well. The story is enjoyable, at least.
fuck you mr big hands. fuck you mr bitey.
Yes I was drunk, yes I was manic. Yes invited you home for sex. What I did not invite you to do was put bite marks all over my body even though I asked you to stop. have anal sex with me when I asked you to stop. use your big big hands to make me bleed and tear because you didnt fit - even when I asked you to stop. Gave me injuries requiring hospitalisation. fuck. my first experience of intercourse. now I have to wait for tests - up to 6 months they say. fuck
Fuck my bipolar. fuck the infection i now have
I’m a Christian - how did it come to this. I dont understand why I did what I did
My friend has Stage 4 glioblastoma. On her brain stem so it’s inoperable. Six weeks of radiation and chemo, and that’s just to give her more time. Her doctor gave her 12 months, but said that’s normally from the date of surgery which she will not be having.
It’s weird, shock. I feel like I’m floating, like this is not real. I need to go down and see her and I want to go RIGHT NOW but of course that won’t work since she’ll be going to Houston each week for treatment and coming home on the weekends. I don’t know what to do yet, I just know I have to see her before she dies.
Mostly I just want to go and sit with her under a tree and talk like we always do.
Oh, that’s just great.
Some neighborhood skunk decided to dump a half gallon of haz-mat juice outside.
[repressing urge to take off and nuke neighborhood from orbit. It’s oozeing past the window seals.]
Oh Carol, that sucks in the suckiest possible way. I hope you get to go enjoyed your tree time. Soon.
I need to figure out how to offer help to my fellow geek parents. And whether it will be feasible to get all of our boys together for a normal Geek Day/Weekend sometime soon. Depending on the results of Tuesday’s surgery… (The healthy 2/3 of the Squad have already made plans to shave their heads on Tuesday, in solidarity. Fortunately, the kid who will be bald due to surgery will look okay with a bare dome. The other two won’t, but they’re willing to look like idiots for DJ. I love these guys so much!) And I can’t fathom how DJ’s parents are coping…
I lose 3x that much in one day, every month… well, every 32 days, now that I’m back on schedule (“liquids retention is just an excuse”, my ass). And yes, one kilo of muscle in a week of walking all over the place when you usually don’t is perfectly normal. If it’s that, your trousers should be slightly roomier.
madrabbitwoman, that totally sucks. And being a Christian got nothing to do with it.
I’d send hugs to the people with sickness and pain, but some of you sound like even the hugs would hurt.
t
I’m so sorry for you and for your friend.
Get your time with her now. Bring her flowers and sticks and leaves and ice cream and lots of love. Give her anything she asks for and then think about anything she hasn’t asked for.
When my second boss was dieing, she didn’t complain or ask. 3 days before Lolli died, she told me that she wished she had a laptop because she wanted to check her email. Nobody had thought about that. Lolli also wished for a Kindle.
Of course, I went right home and packed up my laptop for her and ordered a reader. By that time, she had been moved into ICU and she died before I was able to give her my laptop. The reader is sitting on my desk, loaded with books that I thought she would like.
Do whatever you can now. Tomorrow might not come.
{{{{{{Carol}}}}}}
I have no words, but I’m holding you in the Light.
LM, I’m holding your son and his friends in the Light as well. It’s such a terrible thing for someone so young.
Thank you to everyone for your kind words. My friend seems at peace at the moment. She told me last night that she’s done pretty much everything she wanted to do in life. She just wishes she’d gotten to travel more.
I’ll call her today and how she feels about me coming down and if she’s set up on Skype. (I’m in Nebraska, she’s in Texas.) I wonder if she has a laptop or notebook computer since she’s going to be spending her weeks in Houston and coming back to San Marcos on the weekends. I know she’ll be exhausted (beyond exhausted) and sick from the chemo and the radiation. I’ll let her guide me and let me know what she needs. I have a Kindle, I’ll send it to her if it she’d like to have one.
I’m just glad to have had her in my life. What a blessing she has been to me.
I once called a business that had a message: “While on hold, you may choose the type of music you listen to. Press one for urban, press two for country, press three for classical,” etc.
When I told my husband about it, he asked, “What do you press for blessed silence?”
Please note that any kind of music, to me, is preferable to having to listen to a cheery voice tell me that I could be contacting the business by computer. Yes, I know it’s easier, but if I could be doing that, I would be, not hanging on the wretched phone!