Nava, any chance she took too much medicine? I know that she has been previously reported as “off”, but this is a new ‘high’ for her.
Also, you might want to alert her GP, or the local equivalent thereof, that things are not normal. Forewarned is forearmed.
Fuck me, every time I try to improve myself I manage to fuck it up worse and worse. Not so much of a mini-rant as a moderate sized self-pity, but there isn’t a thread for that.
For lack of a better term, I have been having a mid life crisis for a while now. I was absolutely determined to make sure I didn’t move in a destructive direction, and would force myself in a constructive direction.
Most important on the list was quitting smoking. I have been doing it for decades, and trying to quit for nearly as long with the last couple failures to quit leading to a crushing and demoralizing self hatred. So I was absolutely dedicated to making sure this time to quit worked. I totally over-thought every detail, and reviewed why my quitting has failed previously. I prepared for 8 months like I was planing to climb mount Everest. It was a complete focus until the date I planned.
And the problem is it worked perfectly, almost too well. Between my over planning, and the quirks of my brain it ended up being so much easier than expected. So much so I didn’t really get the sense of accomplishment that was my goal almost as the act of quitting.
Then with an odd feeling of anti-climax I looked to move onto my next challenge.
Which is when I realized I didn’t really have any active challenges or sense of purpose. I had spent 8 months fully preparing for that, and giving my job 0 effort, and no one really noticed. The organization had become completely dysfunctional and purposeless itself. I somehow tunnel-visioned things so bad I failed to notice things were irrevocably heading down the shitter, and most of the people there, who I really like, were deluding themselves as well. After thinking and rethinking and searching for options I came to the realization that It would never be a place where there was anything productive happening ever again, and I would not be happy. So I gave my notice, but was so depressed about leaving I handled it very poorly.
And having now left the job, and the people I like, I now realize that I not only have no purpose, I also now have no daily/weekly anchor to the outside world until I find another job, which I won’t rush into until I find one that brings a sense of purpose.
Yesterday I managed to drop my car onto my hand whilst putting the tire back on after doing some brake work. I had my left hand resting on the tire to hold it in position and was lowering the jack; the car came down unexpectedly quickly, sheared the jack pad off the safety stand and smashed my left hand between the wheel well and tire.
It took the longest 30 seconds of my life to wrangle the jack back into position with my free hand, get the handle into its fitment, and pump the car off my left hand. So, a weird combo of two equipment malfunctions and very, very, very stupidly having an appendage under the car.
I was sure my fingers were sheared off and was relieved to see they were attached. A swift ride to the ER and an x-ray didn’t show any bone damage. So I have enormously swollen sausage fingers and we’re on watch for compartment syndrome. This is in my Top Three Terrifying Moments shudder I’ll be hiring my neighbor guy to put the tire back on.
I specifically bought the small dose of AcCys (200mg) and she was even pouting about taking that much because she had to dissolve it; she tried to claim it was “making her pee too much” (as opposed to the 3-4L of water, milk, horchata, juices and coffee; 4L is aprox 1qt). Her current anti-inflamatory meds are supposed to have no cognitive effects; the painkiller is just ibuprofen.
I’ve also seen her perform gestures that I saw on her mother when Grandma was about 20 years older, and when she tries to speed up she does that thing where she keeps her legs completely stiff and either shuffles fast or moves the whole leg rotating it from the hip. Cute in toddlers who still haven’t figured out what knees are for; not cute at all in someone with a history of bone problems (exact diagnosis has changed, but the one thing everybody agrees on is that she’s had arthrosis since her teens).
Her GP is SiL-the-doc, so hell yeah she’s being warned, along with the rest of the family grownups. They may or may not believe me, she may or may not like their reactions, but as much as I dislike SiL-the-doc in other regards I do know she’ll be watching Mom like a hawk.
Actually, 4L is approx 1 gallon. Unless they use different-sized liters in Spain…
No, you got it right. But damn, can’t you guys just start using normal units already?
Yeah, sorry, in my middle school Bio class (Wisconsin, 1968) we had the metric system drilled into us “because the U.S. is going to switch over any day now, and you need to be prepared!”
OK, I’m still prepared.
Hey, maybe if we get Fox News to mention that Obama hated the metric system (and we can feed them video of him buying pint of beer and ten gallons of gas), Trump’ll issue an Executive Order!
Given the popularity of 2L bottles of soda, I’d say liters were the one metric unit Americans actually DO grok.
Not only that, but after a couple of rounds of tweets, the people most likely to claim that the US can’t do this or that thing a lot of other countries have managed because exceptionalism will realize that the Metric system was actually an American invention, cunningly presented in Paris through proxies of whatever the CIA was called at the time as a ploy to get Dem Foreigners to accept it. And it worked! Yu-es-ei! Yu-es-ei!
Yes, this. Metric. Divide by 1X10^(n), and keep doing it. What is so hard about that?
Fifty years ago this little white-crap Southern town had round signs above smaller square signs. The round signs said something like “75km/h”, and the square signs said “45 mph”. What’s the actual problem here?
I don’t see metric speed limit signs here, for the last forty years or so. Meh.
They needed clarification. Were the km/h hours the same length of time as the mph hours?
And what if you weren’t even planning to be on the road for an hour?
repeatedly hits k-dad with a pillow
Still no laptop. Have to use husband’s desktop while he’s either at work or sleeping. It’s essentially killed my desire to be online more often than not. I’m still debating if this is a good thing.
Meanwhile…how is everybody?
:waves:
Bah. As if being a freak of nature wasn’t enough of a pain in the ass on a daily basis already.
Went to look at bikes yesterday. Figures that nowhere has a bike that fits me, which (I know nothing about bikes, mind) the places I stopped in referred to as an XL frame, or ‘61’ which I correctly deduced was cm.
So fuck, can’t even walk in and try something.
Then doing more internet poking later, I discovered that there are actually XXL frames, or 64 cm out there that are actually better suited to me.
Nobody bothered mentioning them. Fuck 'em. How the fuck am I supposed to find a bike that works when nowhere will even bother mentioning a bike that actually fits me? They probably get plenty of business without special ordering anything for me to try. Assholes.
Are we going to get someone asking if foreigners poop? Some of the questions about “those strange people abroad” are getting so deeply into the questioners’ navels I worry about their spines. At least part of it seems to be the same idea that “if someone doesn’t do something exactly the way I do, it means they do not do it at all” which pervades so much of American pearl-clutching about other countries’ legislation (or, occasionally, gun-clutching: it depends on what the clutcher keeps handier, I guess).
A family friend’s elderly father passed away very recently. Since Mom and I can’t really do anything for her at the moment – she lives several states away, yet Southern tradition states that a death should be acknowledged with large amounts of food – we decided to put together a care package for her, full of snacks and non-perishables (she has repeatedly mentioned that her pantry is empty). We also included a nice gift card. The package got mailed today.
In the meantime, Mom has found out from this friend that two other people have gifted her $100 each. Nice – our friend can use the money! Except Mom has been having an absolute conipshit-fit about it…she’s convinced that our friend is going to think we “copied” the people who gave her money. Mom actually just came in here and said, “Why couldn’t ours have gotten there first??” Well, we didn’t put the box together until Saturday. You talked to friend on the phone that day and told her to expect a surprise in the mail, and specifically mentioned that it was taped up and ready to go. You found out about the cash gifts Sunday and today. How is our friend going to think we “copied” anyone? And why should that matter, anyway?
GAAAAAAAHHHH
Scorpion stung me the other night. Felt a prick whilst digging thru the laundry basket, getting ready to load the washer. Looked at my little finger, looked back, and there it was crawling around on the shirt I was grabbing. My finger swelled up and there was a tingling down my arm about 1/2 way to the elbow. That was Sat., yesterday I was fine.
My pit is not actually the scorpion, although those motherfuckers shouldn’t live, but, the last 15 years I’ve spent living in this house being terrified of them. That sting? That’s all you got?? Fuck me, I got stung by a yellow jacket once on my ass, and it swelled up like mad, hurt so bad I puked and I honestly could barely sit on that ass cheek for .weeks.
Washington Post, your breaking news sucks.
They have these red banners they add that say BREAKING NEWS, and I see them and think, oh fuck, North Korea just shot down a plane, or Serena Williams just got kidnapped by mole people, or Mitch McConnell has started eating flies on the floor of the senate with his long lizard tongue.
Then I read the article, and it’s like (this is the real example that set me off)
Seriously? That’s BREAKING NEWS?
I am here to formally pit our former next-door neighbors, two women who found a house and moved instantly to Palm Springs, two women who, if they were on the back deck when I came outdoors would immediately go inside, and who never talked to any of their neighbors.
I’m not pitting them for any of that.
I’m pitting them because they had been feeding four semi-feral cats, and when they moved without warning they just left them behind without any plans for having them taken care of. Then their woo animal friend visited us this morning to guilt us into taking over. And in 3 or 4 or 5 years, when the start getting old and sick, guess who’s going to be the ones stuck taking them to the vet. It’s not the time or expense of feeding the cats, it’s the heartache when it ends. I didn’t want any more of that, and now we’ve got it times four.
Repeat after me “no, I am sorry but I just can’t”