One of these. As for why, ask the teacher.
Why is it that some men simply cannot tolerate heat? Drives me nuts when the humidity goes up maybe 1/1000% and my husband HAS to put on the A/C. I can holler about BIG ELECTRIC BILL but no, he HAS to have the A/C because “OMG I can feel the humidity!”
Meanwhile I can sleep in that humidity with only a fan :shrug:
Oh no kidding! Mine is driving me freakin nuts with this crap! Cowboy up, you twit - it’s barely 80 degrees and humidity is almost non-existant - its a beautiful sunny day and you are NOT DYING OF HEAT!!
I took the boy to the doctor. The nurse said 4 times in the first 5 minutes “I can’t see this. I need my glasses.”
Then maybe you should go get your glasses!
I ended up reading to her because she couldn’t see the fucking chart.
I get the lowest quality porn/dating spam in the Western Hemisphere.
Example from my e-mail spambox:
Mrs. Ingeborg Wierson You Have 7 New InstaB00tyCalls
Mrs. Dorry Orn 8 New InstaHookupAlerts
Apparently there’s a bunch of oversexed white-haired ladies up in Minnesota wanting to invite me over for lutefisk and naughty knitting. 
Thanks for the giggle, Jack. “Naughty knitting” needs to become A Thing.
I had a shit-ton of things I meant to come in here to bitch about, but they all got resolved one after the other this past weekend – literally, the last crap got wrapped up a few minutes before frigging midnight last night *yaaawn *-- so I guess all that’s left is for me to pit my own 1.) incessant mental re-hashing and PRE-hashing over situations that bother me, and 2.) inability to advocate for myself.
Oh, I almost forgot! I got a mosquito bite directly above the crack of my ass. If that’s not worth a Pitting, I don’t know what is.
I have been unable to trust a fart for 3 days now. Don’t know what I ate, but it has not sat well.
My husband needs to stop watching documentaries. A few weeks ago, he watched one about sugar. Which is totally valid - we need to eat less sugar. So I got a vitamix and he proceeded to blend the living shit out of everything in the house. In addition to the raw broccoli smoothie he made me (urp), he is now starting to talk about adding okra. Okra for fuck’s sake!
Then yesterday, he watched a documentary about eating meat. Now he thinks we should all be vegan or as close to it as possible. I can’t keep up with his diet changes. I do not begrudge him his information, but holy fuck, do more research and please don’t jump on every bandwagon you happen to bump into! These changes are also exhausting (guess who does the cooking?) and expensive as hell. And they’re wreaking havoc on my digestive system.
I have a nurse horror story from my childhood in the same vein. I had ankle fusion surgery (cut out the joint, bolt and cast it back together - sorry if that’s graphic but lots of people don’t seem to comprehend what “fusion” means - it’s literal) and when it came time to remove the cast and pull out the pins, mom took me in to the doctor’s office. The nurses removed the cast and the pins and then proceeded to argue about who could go to lunch and who had to stay and wash the patient’s leg with open wounds on it. They kept arguing until my mom told them all to shut the hell up and go and she would wash me up.
She earned her wings in heaven, as well as the Iron Stomach of the Decade Awarded to Those Not in the Medical Industry. There were holes right through my leg where the pins were. It’s shocking that they would all leave an untrained person do something like that given the high risk of infection if it was done wrong.
Adding my own different pit topic:
Last week the IT team replaced my old laptop with a new one. I’m sure most of you know the pit involved in that already (New version of Windows, for those who aren’t). I’m not the kind of person who HATES change, in fact good changes I will do a happy dance for. But this wasn’t one of those. Along with the new Windows, I got upgraded from Office 2010 to Office 2013. My productivity screeched to a halt as I had to stop working and reconfigure my Outlook view back to my liking, and I keep interrupting myself as I find things that make me twitch. For example when I need to insert or change an image in a Word document, I deeply resent the assumption that I want to browse the internet for the image to use. No way to shut that “feature” off without a registry modification.
In addition to the extra mouseclick to say “No, I don’t fucking want to search online”, the vast ocean of whitespace in the popup box makes me feel like Luis Black. It’s like this but worse: I don’t have Flickr or Skydrive, so those options are just whitespace on mine.
Try clicking on Pictures instead of Online Pictures.
Courtesy of my first husband - the only human left on earth that I’m afraid of, but he had his moments: If you’re feeling evil, when confronted by someone suffering from a terrible hangover? The offer of an okra daiquiri is nearly guaranteed to turn the hangover sufferer almost the same shade of green as the proposed drink!
Oh, that’s interesting. I started to reply saying you misunderstood and then took another look to see what you were talking about before I submitted my reply. Yes, now the Ribbon contains both “Pictures” and “Online pictures” in the Insert tab. But if you right-click on a picture that’s already in the document, it defaults to the online picture behavior.
My poor daughter is celebrating her first day of summer vacation with a headache. Poor kid. I just hope she has not inherited her dad’s propensity towards migraines.
Should I try an okra smoothie, overlyverbose? I think the kid would leave the entire state in complete horror. And she likes okra, the little freak.
My mom is going downhill. I could go into it but it would end up a giant rant. We’re meeting with people Thursday to see about getting home assistance and I need to push to get her into some sort of home. I’m tired, before I was trying to get her to move out because I’m done with the hangups and issues and boundary crossing and attempts to make me and my son dependent upon her and need some space for the first time in my life to gain some sort of sanity and make sure my son grows up to be the wonderful person I know he can without being dragged down as I have been in ways that I couldn’t put into perspective until recently.
And now instead of just helping her find her own place and get her own life I have to get her into somewhere that can help her. It’s becoming more and more obvious she’s probably getting dementia and I’ve missed the signs for awhile because I live with her and she’s always had quirks and been a worry wart. These things are just so much more obvious now.
I’m just so tired. It’s been awhile since I’ve had good sleep, everything is combining to contribute to insomnia in me again and I haven’t been this bad off since I was a teen and I don’t need to drop back into that depression.
Barring the unforeseeable (:D) I’ll be going through something similar with my mother in a few years, Flutterby, and I’m going through some temporary insomnia right now, so these {{{ }}} come with some extra empathy AND sympathy from my corner.
When I got ready to move a couple of weeks ago, I eyeballed the chicken bones and carcasses in my freezer and simmered them all into a thick, delicious stock with lots of garlic and celery (to use those up before the move) that took up 1/10 of the space.
After we moved in, the fridge/freezer in the new place promptly gave up the ghost. We’re getting a new one, but all perishables were unsalvageable. I keep thinking about the time and energy involved in simmering the stock in the first place, plus transporting it over, plus all the time the chicken was taking up space in my freezer in my old home … what a total waste. Plus, this guy I’ve been quietly seeing for a while is sick and I’d have loved to serve him real homemade soup, so that’s basically an opportunity waste.
I hate waste, in all its forms, and this one piddly instance highlights so many instances of it.
I know the mom thing. My sisters and I are planning an Intervention for our parents.
My dad nearly up and died Saturday night while we were out to dinner. Taken to the hospital, we drove there and spent the evening. Walking around with my mother, she insisted on holding my arm and then moved extremely slowly. Like ludicrously slow. She had a back operation last year and has had TWO toes removed, but she still insists on wearing shows that cram her remaining toes together. She’s forcing our father to do more and more of the housework because she can’t (read: won’t) move. The man is going to be 80 this year. When they went to Europe for almost two weeks earlier this month, apparently HE had to haul all the luggage because she complained (which is pretty much all she knows how to do these days) incessantly about how hard it was.
So we’re going to sit down with them and tell her to get off her ass, lose some weight, STOP COMPLAINING ABOUT EVERY GODDAMNED THING, stop working our father to death and really, SHUT THE FUCK UP ALREADY.
For him: You’re getting that pacemaker. No questions. You’re also going to stop doing all this shit for our mother and you’re definitely NOT going to be a fucking pack mule on your next vacation, which we fully approve of you taking without her.
My sister had the post-hospital talk with him about how we’ve already made it clear that we expect him to outlive our mother, because she’ll a> Spend every dime she ends up with way too quickly, and b> We know the whiny MARTYR bullshit will go into overdrive, forcing us away from her even as she needs more and more of our help. And OH HELL NO, none of us are moving in with her or allowing her to move in with us.
On the bright side, large study reveals that medical marijuana actually does work for Chronic Pain. Hopefully more states will allow that as a treated condition. My own state just opened up with very limited ‘oil or pills only’ options for the first time, but Chronic Pain isn’t one of their options. Yet.
{{{purplehorseshoe}}} I hate waste like that too. And on some good homemade stock! Have you ever tried making stock in the Crockpot? I’ve been doing that when I make chicken in it, bones and everything tossed back in and water and celery and carrots and onions, you know the good stuff. Lid on and overnight it, half the work and tastes just as good.
Good luck with your intervention Chimera. That sounds like it will be pretty rough too, at least you and your sisters are on the same page. I just have my mom to deal with because my parents are divorced, my dad is dealing with Grandma stuff and his own health issues and my brother lives closer to him. At least dad has step-mom to help him too. For many reasons I still live with my mother (or rather she lives with me, it flipped a bit ago) and I’ve been trying to separate my life from hers for a bit since I started realizing how she was contributing to problems under the guise of help… I read something on codependency a few months ago and it was like word for word issues I’ve had for years and been unable to articulate because on one hand it’s helpful but on the other… And now she needs help and is obviously confused about things.
I’ve got my BF who went through this with his Grandmother and I’ve tapped mom’s sisters for help it’s just frustrating that I’ve basically been watching over my mother in many ways since I was my son’s age and I need to get her help and out and make my own life for once.
Flutterby - I understand what you’re going through, and it sucks. My mom is, sadly, into the paranoia stage of dementia. Every day I wonder when I became the mom to shoo the monsters away.
Speaking of mom… Dearest woman, QUIT fucking asking me if I am napping EVERY damn time you call, be it 7am or 7pm. I’ve asked you three times to stop. It’s annoying. When I tell you what I’m doing (working, cleaning, reading) don’t suggest that I really should nap. No. I. Don’t. If I’m tired, I will sleep. I’ve been managing to do so for, what, 46 years now? And QUIT using my illness as an excuse for everything. I have a mandatory meeting tomorrow. “Oh, you should tell your boss your sick and can’t come in”. It doesn’t work that way. She even wanted me to tell the auto repair shop how sick I am in order to obtain either/AND speedier service or a discount. Just NO.
And, FWIW, dialysis absolutely sucks monkey balls. I hate every minute I’m stuck to the chair, 12 hours/week.