Mini-est of minirants and most definitely a First World Problem.
I wrote a book with a co-author. Publication date was last week. My co-author has her author’s copies, and is enjoying them.
I do not have my copies. I bought a house and moved, and they are being forwarded from the old address.
But they are not here yet.
WHERE ARE MY DAMN AUTHOR’S COPIES OF MY BOOK YO?!?!?!? I want to physically SEE the book I wrote!
Both the dumbass who sits through an advanced green because they’re texting and the dumbass behind them who doesn’t honk after a very short time need to beaten with large sticks.
Fuck. My fucking gynecologist’s office has fucked up my concert in November that I bought tickets for months ago. And I can’t try to sell the tickets because there’s still a good chance my surgery will get bumped because it’s elective, so if Murphy’s Law is in effect, the surgery will go ahead and we’ll lose the money for the tickets, or we’ll be able to see the concert and my surgery will wait another fucking month. Fuck.
Shitshitshit!
I just checked my email, and there’s one there asking if I want to come to a job interview- well, yes! I do! I’m desperate for a sodding job! But it’s for today, at 2.30- and it’s after 1pm, and I’m over half an hour’s drive away, not sure where it is (I know which small town, but nothing else)- wearing sweaty muddy gardening clothes, and suffering from the effects of 3 hours sleep and bad period pains, and basically there’s no way in hell I could make it there being a) on time and b) human enough to be worth interviewing.
And yeah, WTF guys? Less than 24 hours notice for an interview?? Checking the time sigs, he sent that less than 20 minutes after I sent in the application- and about 10 minutes after I would have logged out of my email account. I don’t think it’s that unreasonable to not check a personal email account more than once a day, is it? AAAaaaaaaaahh…
No, Larry’s not here, this is MY phone, not Larry’s.
Yes, I understand this number may at one time have belonged to someone named Larry, but no longer. It’s MY number now.
Also, fuck you Larry for being such a deadbeat you get calls from creditors almost every day.
You have no say in scheduling your own surgery? You can’t say, “Sorry, that date won’t work for me.”?
The guy who had my cell number before I got it was a deadbeat, too. His hobby was apparently filling out sweepstakes entry forms. So I got a lot of people looking for him (or at least his money) who wouldn’t believe that I had no idea who he is and where he is now. I also get a lot of people who want him and me to attend a meeting to collect our prize, where we can learn about this fantastic time share opportunity.
If there are A number of surgery slots open, and A x 2 patients who want or need that surgery, then when a slot opens up, the wise patient will take it, even if it’s inconvenient. Because there’s no telling when the next slot will come along. Since it’s a gyno surgery, there’s every chance that the doctor might be delivering a baby with complications, to add in even more fun to the calculations.
Leaving Philly the other day, I was in the right lane waiting to turn right at a red light, and some fucker in a big ass trailer truck drives around me, stops directly to my left, thus obstructing my view, and then makes the right turn I’m waiting to make by cutting me off and turning in front of me. I FUCKING HATE DRIVING IN PHLADELPHIA.
It’s the one terrible thing about an otherwise lovely city.
I don’t have enough energy to yell about my current annoyance, which is I have no energy. I get Wendesdays off and have all these big plans of productivity, but then Wednesday arrives and I basically sleep through it, in an attempt to recover from the first two days of the week. I do pretty well until about the 9th hour of my shift and then my brain shuts down just in time for me to enjoy my 1.5 hour drive home. It doesn’t seem that bad at the time, but the next day I’ve got nothing left.
That’s pretty much it - you take the slot they give you or wait and wait and wait… Since getting my tubes tied is more important to me than the concert, I choose surgery, but I’m still not thrilled about the conflict - we go to a couple of concerts a year, I have surgery once every ten years (if that), and of course Murphy’s Law is messing with me. :mad:
olives, that driving story is a big ole WTF?? We’ve seen stuff like that occasionally, too, and it always blows my mind that someone thinks that is an acceptable way to drive.
There are good meds for that! I used to take Mirapex, but it’s really expensive and now I’m on the generic. Somehow, the generic doesn’t seem to give me the wonderful weird dreams Mirapex did. (My personal favorite was the one where I was in my back yard feeding one of the hockey players to a plant.)
Talk to your doctor about this. If you only have RLS occasionally, that’s ok, it’s not something that has to build up in your system. It seems to take about an hour for it to kick in for me.
Centipedes.
shudder
My first experience with those demon-spawned creatures happened shortly after we moved into military housing on Oahu. Mr SCL was upstairs asleep when I saw the cats messing with s newspaper on the floor. Out crawled/slithered a 10 inch centipede.
I had already been warned about the little bastards. They are hard to kill and had been known to survive oven cleaner and concrete blocks. Bug spray? They laugh at it.
There is one on the floor at my feet. What to do?
I stood on the sofa and screamed until Mr SCL woke up and came downstairs.
Sealing them in an airtight jar for a day or two does kill them.
That’s interesting - I had just assumed that all meds were daily ones, and since I only get the restless legs occasionally, I didn’t want to take a pill every day for it. Taking a vitamin C pill does seem to calm them down when I remember to take one, too. 
Oooh, centipedes are gross. When I was still new to Hawaii, we were on a field ex and I nestled down in a spot under a tree, in a pile of pine needles. My platoon Sgt. walked by and said ‘Good position, Ate. That’s where the centipedes live.’ and strolled away. I moved.
Got back from vacation back to the mainland and found a foot-long centipede laying dead in the middle of the living room. I never saw a live one that long, but it would be a thing of nightmares.
Speaking of nightmares, which is why I stopped in…
I hate having a dream about somebody I’m not attracted to, in which theyare naked, and then running in to them the next day. This could be awkward for a week until it wears off.
Dear pickup truck with the “Please do not tailgate” bumper sticker: It’s awful hard to follow that when we try to pass you, you speed up, and then slow down again when we fall in behind you. Kindly go fuck yourself.
I get worse ones where it is a coworker that I am attracted to (not that I would act on it). I am sure I blush for a few days around them.
Heh - we were driving behind a car with a bumper sticker about not tailgating the other day - they were driving about 10 km under the residential speed limit (which is 50 kph). I think I might know why everyone is always tailgating you - you drive too fucking slow!
I like that my new(ish) car has so much get up and go. A few months back I was driving up a county road behind a guy doing 52 in a 55. I was just getting ready to pass him when we went around a curve into a winding ‘no passing’ zone several miles long. Asshole slowed to 45 (in a 55) the entire way. One we got to where I could pass him, he sped up to about 63.
NO WAY.
I blew past him. Pulled over in front of him.
Slowed and set my cruise control at 56.
Fucker tailgated me the next 10 miles.
If he’d have tried to pass me, and I’ve done this before, I’ll speed up to whatever speed I need to in order to prevent it.
Hey, I’m driving the speed limit.
You’re the asshole who deliberately drove 10mph under the speed limit when I was behind you and couldn’t pass, and then sped up to 8mph over it in order to prevent me from passing when I had the chance.
Geez, another one - stuck in a construction zone, semi truck in the right lane locked in at 55 mph (posted construction zone speed), car in the left lane located immediately behind the truck and quite possibly in the blind spot… and not passing or even budging. At all. We’re behind the left-lane-blocker. An impatient driver comes up on our right and tailgates the truck hard, hoping the blocker will slip back a little, but no joy.
After a couple miles like this, the truck finally takes an offramp - and the lane blocker immediately hits the gas. :smack:
Next time? Give baby cantaloupe and THEN bath instead of the other way around.
:smack:
Apparently my car really IS invisible. Yesterday morning on my way to work someone tried to change lanes right into me! Thankfully no one was in the lane next to me (the turn lane).
I don’t know what he was thinking because I had to get behind him right away anyway due to a cop having pulled a car over and they blocked the lane I was in. So if he’d gotten into my lane he would have had to get back out of it immediately anyway (and he kept going straight, with the only way straight being the on ramp to the Deerfoot).