This has been a shitty week, partly because of workload (people with high-deductible health insurance plans rush to get their (mostly) minor surgeries done at the end of the year while they’re “paid up”), and due to a bad cold I picked up from a sneezy child at a restaurant.
Wednesday was the topper. I barely seemed to get any sleep, tossing and turning until the alarm went off, dragged myself out of bed, showered, dressed and headed off to work. Halfway through my drive, I became aware that traffic was unusually light. Great, the pre-Xmas slowdown is here. And gee, it’s awfully dark out, but then again we’re at the solstice, shortest day of the year. Then I looked at the dashboard clock: 5:50.
Huh???!?
Yes, somehow I’d managed to get up two hours early without realizing it. And there was no way I was going to turn around and head home to try to make up the two hours. Turns out that I’d set the alarm for the right time in the a.m., but in my virus-addled state I’d also managed to set the clock ahead two hours.
Yesterday was my big busy day of the week, the day I had to come in for, rain or shine, sickness or health. And it was a doozy. And it’s over. Today is my last day at work before vacation. I’m really happy.
So what do I have to rant over? I just broke the underwire in my last good bra. This year, I lost a bunch of weight and then… gained a bunch back because I quit caring. So basically none of my bras fit except for one. And now that one is ruined.
But maybe I can use my wardrobe malfunction to go home early…
My nephew was in a similar situation. Now he’s moved back in with his mom because he’s admitted he needs the help to stay clean. Luckily they get along well. I’m taking him, my son and my 85-year-old mother to see the new Star Wars movie on Christmas (Mom loves Star Wars), then we’re getting Chinese for dinner. Lazy is a perfectly valid way to celebrate, IMO.
Okay, here’s a better one. Someone donated 75 teddy bears to kids in our emergency shelter. For some reason the arranged drop off was at an auto parts store… Not clear on that. But anyway, when the donor appeared with a bag of bears, some random person not affiliated with our organization claimed to be from us, loaded the bears into the back of her car, and disappeared. We’re still not sure what the hell happened, but I it looks like someone stole teddy bears from homeless child witnesses of domestic violence… On Christmas.
We’ve thought about it, but we don’t want to deal with 2000 teddy bears pouring in. Besides, I’m willing to cling to the possibility there was some kind of mix up.
The kids will be fine. We get so many toys donated this time of year anyhow. Our biggest issue is a devastated donor who feels responsible. It’s hard to imagine that anyone would do this, but also hard to imagine how exactly it happened.
I still think you should report it to the police and local news. You can figure out some way to deal with the avalanche of donated bears. Enlist the aid of local fire stations or college service fraternities/sororities. Don’t let the scum get away with this because it’s too much trouble to deal with the (good) outcome.
Welp, still not feeling well. No, let’s be honest, I still feel like shit. Regular doc couldn’t get me in, so went to the local urgent care where I was told “Yep, you’re sick” and give an excused-from-work note.
Officially it’s Not Flu (according to the quick office test) but it’s still a vicious upper respiratory thing. Asthma under control despite it, but some sign of secondary infection so I was issued a scrip for antibiotics. Went to collect them and dropped off the doc’s note at work, then came home. Exhausted.
Seems it’s going around work. One of my coworkers wound up in the hospital with this shit.
Off work until Sunday. So this is going to cost me $400+ between lost wages and the co-pay for urgent care. The antibiotics are free.
My dog passed away 6 weeks ago. He was a darling scruffy goof and my constant (and only) companion since the Summer of 2008. He was a rescue dog. What made our relationship even better was that I was made redundant a few months later so we were together all day long every day. Since he passed, when people ask “How are you?,” I briefly mention his passing. So far EVERY TIME, yes every f’ng time the person comes back with a sad story about some human relative or friend of theirs with some drastic problem and completely dismiss what I have said. Not even an expression of regret.
So my rant is to complain about conversation topic trumpers.
I’m so so sorry about the loss of your doggie companion. What a huge empty place their loss leaves in the home. They’re always so glad to see you–more so than any person I’ve ever lived with, that’s for sure! Doggies make the very best roommates. It’s very hard to adjust to their absence, if one ever does. (I lost one of my dogs last year, too. He was such a sweetheart.) I’m sad for you.
I am so, so sorry. We lost our beloved Oakley to cancer last spring and we’re still not over it. Our new-ish dog possesses some of his spirit, though, so in one sense it makes it easier, but still.
I’ve had people laugh at me for equating the loss of a beloved pet to a human. Words cannot express the rage I feel when that happens.
