That. Was wonderful.
Sounds like some of my ex-wife’s BPD, where the slightest sign of disapproval or concern over her irrational or destructive behavior was seen as persecution and the other person (mostly, but not only me) being a “dangerous psychopath”.
There is no positive path through this. Every possible step to get him to recognize his issues is going to meet with resistance and nuclear strengthed upping the stakes. Either he wins and everyone apologizes and recognizes how right he is and how wrong they are and everyone kisses his ass for all eternity, or the entire thing blows up in fire and a cloud of radioactive ash, poisoning everyone’s lives.
Since I clearly do not recommend the first course of action, what you will need to do is to work out how to minimize the damage to yourself and others, concentrating first on yourself as you cannot control the actions of others.
This will not end well.
Unfortunately, you can only accept that and deal with it.
Why am I getting plot bunnies when I need to be doing something else? (Specifically working on products for a craft show in October.) And I said I was going to do Camp Nano in August, but I think trying to cram making shitloads of bookmarks and postcards into one and a half months is unwise, knowing myself. So no writing!
For that matter, I wish I would feel like doing something productive in my free time. I’ve managed to do unimportant but useful things the last couple days.
My kids have lice. You would think that would be rant-worthy but that’s not what has me annoyed.
We found out late Tuesday night. So, on Wednesday my husband did a walk around the neighbourhood to tell all the neighbourhood parents while I called all the friends and family we had been in recent contact with.
He goes to one house, let’s call it Judy’s house. Her dad comes to the door and my husband explains the situation. He says thanks and my husband moves on to Sam’s house. Her mom answers the door and says thanks and that they probably got it from Judy. Huh? Apparently, Sam’s mom had noticed lice on Judy and had told her parents about a week ago.
Since it takes about a week for the little fuckers to hatch, guess that they did get it from Judy. That doesn’t really bother me. It’s very easy to pass on.
What does get me?
Why in the name of all things holy did Judy’s parents not give us a heads-up? Judy and my kids play together ALMOST EVERY DAY. FFS. I would have been a lot more diligent and pulled out preventative measures.
(Thus preventing having to wash/heat every article that MAY have come in contact with my kids in the last week now that we definitely DO have them.)
Is there some kind of law that you can keep every single receipt that comes into your house, but when an item still under warranty breaks down, that is the one receipt you can’t find? I’m off to Best Buy today to see if they can re-print the receipt for our five month old camera that has broken down. What I’m not looking forward to hearing is, “I’m sorry, we can’t do anything without the receipt,” but I’ll take it if I have to, because it’s my own damned fault for losing it.
While I’m at it, the five month old Nikon has broken down (lens doesn’t go in and out any more). Our eight year old HP war horse that eats batteries like candy and weighs about half a pound just keeps plugging along, no matter how many times I drop it. So, boo Nikon, and yay, HP. Maybe we should have bought another HP digital camera.
I know it’s difficult, but you have to recognize your limits. Then you have to stay within them, and don’t let anyone try to give you more.
Just. Say. No.
It’s hard to do, but if you take on too much you end up not doing things well. This is the voice of experience talking! I love doing scrapbooks for my hockey players (almost as good as burly Marines) and they enjoy having them. I ended up accepting more commissions that I could handle last season and got really stressed trying to get them finished before the end of the season. Thank goodness we went all the way in the playoffs, or I might not have made it. I won’t be doing as many this season, although it will be hard to say no to sponsors who ask.
If someone tries to give you something else to handle, just smile and say: “I’m sorry, but my plate is full right now; the baby’s not sleeping through the night and I have all I can handle. When I get some of my current projects completed, I’ll call you.” And stick to it. Good luck.
ETA: flatlined, you are my hero.
Amen Sistah (Brothah?)!! It’s the same over here in South Dakota. It just frickin’ sucks. What’s even worse is that we don’t even get the rain to go with it. If it’s gotta be this damn humid, it might as well be raining.
Also, lets remove the word ‘Seriously’ from the vocabulary of teenage girls. I work part time at a grocery store and we have one teenage girl (Thank god we only still have one) that uses that word constantly. At least she has cut down on the incessant giggling.
You should tell them, and here’s why: it allows you to tell the what you told us, i.e. “I’m going to play along with him because I don’t want him to cut himself off from me when he might need my help, but I don’t want YOU guys to think I actually agree with his BS, so just FYI.”
Oh, and seeing “the” in my post above when I TOTALLY typed “them” reminded me of my mini-rant: I hate this cheap-ass keyboard that came with my current computer. I miss my old keyboard, but I can’t use it on this computer because it isn’t a USB keyboard, and this computer doesn’t have the old-style keyboard input.
Do you know about these?
When two plot bunnies love each other VERY much…
When my daughter was in her tweens, she wanted to sleep over at her cousins’ place. It was OK with my sister-in-law.
Guess what my daughter came home with? SIL knew damn good and well that her kids had lice, and not only was my daughter allowed to play with those kids, she was allowed to sleep over, in the same bed, naturally. Twenty years later, I STILL get the urge to kill. Also the urge to scratch.
I had to visit the dentist today ( a filling that was 30 years old had finally cracked). Anyway, my friend owns a few racehorses and he emailed me that two were running at a provincial meeting today. he didn’t say they would win, he said they had good chances.
So Flash Cicero loosens the purse strings and has $20 on the first horse. It blows to 50 to 1 on course. Oh well, it will pay well.
I will always remember the callers words at the end of the race “and XXXX last every step of the way”.
Okay, I head off to the dentist, come home a lot lighter in the pocket and back up on the second horse called “Last Dancer”. The name seems pretty apt now. Intending to get my money back I throw $50 at this one.
It comes with a flashing run from second last on the turn to run … last.
I can’t remember the last time I had two bets and they both finished last.
There’s a tendency now for car salesmen and other dealership employees to steer you on how to fill out customer satisfaction surveys.
A couple of times now we’ve had these people tell us how important it is for them to get top ratings, and Mr. Smarmy pressed my wife yesterday to acknowledge if she was willing to give the service department exceptional scores.
Fellas, you shouldn’t be handing out evaluation forms if you don’t want to hear honest answers (which is basically what she told him).
Are businesses in general obsessing about these idiotic ratings more now than ever before?
Which reminds me to fill out my outpatient surgery center questionnaire, mentioning the anesthesia person who got all snippy when I inadvertently failed to give him his proper title (chief pseudo-anesthesiologist, or whatever). There’s nothing like getting nasty remarks from someone who’s about to put you under for a procedure.
Our car dealership now tells us if you score the workshop ten on the rating you are in the running for a prize- such as a free service. i am sure they get unbiased responses.
Okay, I gotta know. What’s a plot bunny?
Plot bunnies are story ideas, they like to show up at awkward times and can multiply like crazy when they get going.
I haven’t had many in awhile. Too much RL and I just can’t seem to make time to sit down and write.
Snakescatlady, do you think you can post a picture of Captain Morgan? I’d sure love to see him.
OMG I love that. Reminds me of ‘‘thought bunnies’’ which is how I describe anxious thoughts, and I have to mentally round them up and put them back in their cages.
Today I am supposed to find out whether or not I’ve been selected for a job that would radically change the course of my life and start my career on a solid path to my long-term goals.
I’m seriously so nervous I’m about to throw up.
This is why people used to have the wedding and honeymoon in different places, y’know. You got a nice honeymoon with no wedding guests bothering you. Somebody was not too clear on this concept.