I guess it depends on your personality, but I never complain about my kid. She’s not perfect, of course, nobody is, but I’ve honestly never felt the need to whine about her. I don’t really get complaining about your kid. She’s my favourite thing, she’s the LAST thing I’d bitch about.
I do have a new boss, and it’s the first time in five bosses I’ve had a bad one, so that’s a complainable issue I guess. He doesn’t seem like a bad guy, he’s just not a very good fit, and he seems to have *a lot *of comprehension problems with email. Everyone - it’s not just me, nor even just his subordinates - is quickly learning that you can’t expect anything longer than twenty words to be understood.
Well, the name is confusing. I think the “summer hours” and “winter hours” of other languages is more clear and makes more sense - after all, I’ve never seen a sunlight piggybank.
You are a very evil person who should come to a really bad end.
AT least I don’t have to worry about habu jumping from the trees to bite or getting black VD just from kissing someone. Are you the one who made all of those public service videos we all saw?
If so, I think your end should include you watching all of them over and over and over for forever.
Just fuck Valentine’s day and everyone who feel gushing all over social media and the water cooler equals a true statement of love. Also fuck me for allowing myself to think fondly of my ex during this time. Lastly fuck online dating, in this month and any month.
If it helps any, we’re all on your side, and we all agree with you…
…we wish you were a different person, too! :-}
Just kiddin’. You can’t beat my horrible, evil, lonely, frustrating day for depression-fodder … well, you could if, on top of everything else, you were going through it all on your own.
And it was your birthday.
Fuck Ratzi the sexist, pedophile shielding Nazi. This piece in the New York Times about sums it up for me. I am not a Catholic but I have a tremendous respect for the many great work many Catholics do. What a shame such good people were represented by such a horrible man!
Cue my customary “standard, daylight, split the difference, pick something else altogether, I don’t care, just pick something and STICK WITH IT!!!” rant.
I know that one. I only started getting my life back together after my daughter was born[1]. When she’s around, I’m fine, but now she’s at nursery, it reminds me of before she was born, and it’s a bit bleak and scary unless I keep myself really busy and distracted. Which I’m not today.
Token minirants - stupid ebayer sending me the wrong item, and still not having refunded me. Stupid nursery, sending my kid out to play yesterday in her slippers and no coat, because they didn’t realise that the jacket on her named coatpeg was hers because it was BLUE and had Thomas the Tank on it. So I guess they just assumed the flowery shoes under the blue coat couldn’t be hers either. Her cold’s worse today too, grr.
Real mini-rant - just a vague kind of discontentment at the moment. I’m hoping it will pass once I get this weekends ordeal out of the way. Yes, this weekend I get to do a 5 hour round-trip to go visit my former in-laws and collect my share of furniture from the former marital home from them. My ex obviously didn’t even want me turning up in the same town that he lives in with his latest partner - what did he think I was going to do, steal my cats back or something?
[1] Lost my firstborn son to suspected cot-death: just mentioning it as background, no sympathy please, it makes me feel worse.
Eh, if it was Daylight Saving Time right now, sunrise wouldn’t happen here until ten minutes to 8. I like being able to see the sun before I start my day - at least on days when the sun is actually out. (Fuck February.)
After a few weeks delay, I am once again getting back to the project of spaying my stepdaughter’s cat (the one she “put out” when it got to be “a pain in the ass”). When asked to produce the cat, she responded that she thinks she’s seen it around and she can probably get it if she puts some tuna out. I had been hoping against hope that someone else in the household was caring for the cat, but it doesn’t sound like it. Now I am wondering, should I just take the cat to the pound? Does it make sense to spay the cat and return it to the life of a stray? If I take it to the pound, this will be the third inconvenient animal we’ve helped her dispose of in the last few years.
We need to discuss this cat, but it is very hard to talk to her. She is so blithe about the whole thing. Her dad is not secure enough in their relationship to say anything that might seem critical to her (it triggers drama). We mostly communicate by texting, which is good because it gives me the opportunity to process things a little bit before replying. You know how sometimes you’ll see a cockroach, and if you look closely, you can see its horrid little mouthparts moving? And then you’re overcome with revulsion and you just want to scream and stamp on it? That’s how I feel whenever my stepdaughter moves her horrid little mouthparts.
The other day in class, as part of an exercise, you had to name a person or group of people you’d like to “give a kick in the teeth to.” One guy in my class, who I thought was a decent guy, said he’d like to do that to “people who don’t know God.” Ugh.
I’m sick of people hating on others who don’t have the same beliefs.
I’d really like for Congress to get its shit together and come up with a budget that lasts for two months. Is that so much to ask? Working for a federal contractor is not particularly comfortable. We have work that we could absolutely hire more people to do, but general uncertainty makes management very hesitant to hire. All of our clients are spending absurd amounts of time (and money) planning contingencies for what may or may not happen when we get a budget. It’s just frustrating.
Hm, try being a federal employee, who is doing the work of six people by herself (yes staffing document requires and authorizes six), has been for almost a year, and is facing furlough and a 20% pay cut. That paycut, per month is almost my mortgage payment.
I think I’d probably just take it to the pound. Yes, you’re helping someone who should get her shit together and stop getting pets she won’t look after, but the more important thing is that you’re helping the animal have a chance to get into a loving home.
(I loved your cockroach analogy - I fervently hope that your stepdaughter grows up and becomes a viable human being some day.)
My take, depending on where the cockroach lives, is that if you spay the cat, you should give it back as if you were doing trap and release with a feral. That way, maybe she won’t get another pet if she still thinks she sort of in a way has one, and it may also help to keep the local feral population down.
Taking it to the pound most likely means it’s going to die. Living as a sort of stray near people who might get around to giving it food sounds like it should stay alive and it will also serve a purpose.
