Thank you both for your helpful suggestions! I’ve started shopping around for a daylight lamp and I already get out as much as I possibly can.
Unfortunately my day did not get any better for a while. I hate my birthday because it’s the always one of the worst, unluckiest, most dangerous days of my year. For the first time ever, nothing bad happened last year. I wanted to think that meant the curse had been broken. Not a chance.
First thing in the morning I went into the bathroom to discover that not only had my Mom stopped up the toilet, but she had gotten poop on the throw rug. I have no idea why she just left it all there for me to deal with. I guess she thought I needed something else to clean. About an hour later I went out to the kitchen and saw my burned beyond edibility birthday cake. She used the old, unreliable oven instead of the new one. I hadn’t put the chairs back in place after moving them out to mop the night before. I had moved our large glass-topped table to mop around it. I started to move it back into place so I could bring the chairs in. Almost as soon as I touched it one of the legs came off and the top of the table hit the floor and shattered. I started to cry. I couldn’t help it. It took about two hours to clean up all the glass and stuff that had been on the table at the time. By then I was running late to meet my friends who were taking me out to dinner. No, not the Oktoberfest friends. I still haven’t heard a word out of any of them. :mad: I got dressed and went outside to find a flat tire on the back passenger side of my car. This was where I started laughing in that creepy sort of way. I went back inside, changed out of my good clothes, back out and changed the tire, back in to change my clothes again, then out to the car and I left.
That was the end of the birthday horror. Everything else went well. We played some games and had a great dinner. I got home not long after midnight, took my shower and went to bed. It’s all over until next year.
Holy crap, do you work with me? You’ve got to be talking about Anita… I hear her inane giggling and I turn into Alice from Dilbert: “Must control fists of death!!!”
If I may add my own here - you people on Ucomics who comment on the strips as if they’re real life - um, they’re not. They’re stories. They’re comic strips. They’re little nibbles of silly entertainment. So quit telling Mom that she needs to crack down on her kids. Quit telling Dad to help out around the house. Quit telling the talking dog… um… anything! They’re comics! Made up! Pretend! :smack:
This morning on my way to work, I was marveling at the beauty of nature. The leaves changing color, the sun, low on the eastern horizon giving everything a golden glow . . . the half-smooshed squirrel convulsing and trying to drag itself across the road.
I had to turn around and go run over it a couple of times before I killed it.
No bread
No dairy
Nothing in a can
No restaurant or fast food
No seafood
No processed meats
No iodized salt
So think about what you ate for lunch yesterday and take away everything on the list above. Probably doesn’t leave much. For instance, I love a ham sandwhich on white bread with mayo, lettuce, pickles, and spicy mustard and chips on the side. Of all of that, I can have the lettuce. Everything else a no-no.
I’m a grab-and-go eater and I basically can’t have anything that I didn’t prepare myself, which is a problem since I HATE cooking.
Luckily, I’m done with the diet on Friday afternoon.
Lately I’ve been keeping my laptop on a TV tray in the living room so I can use it while I’m watching TV. A few days ago I woke up to find that sometime during the night the cats had managed to knock it over, no doubt during one of their nocturnal recreations of the NASCAR finals. Fortunately, there was no damage to the laptop itself. However, this was not true of my wireless mouse. The top cover had popped off and the battery was missing, along with the cover itself.
I have searched the entire living room, including under the couch, and the adjoining dining room, but both the battery and cover are nowhere to be found. I checked the bedroom and my office, and they aren’t there either. Both cats deny any knowledge of where they could be, and display total disinterest in helping me locate them.
Apparently either the mouse won’t work without the cover in place, or it was somehow damaged in the fall, because I tried putting in a new battery but nothing happens, forcing me to use the trackpad and arrow keys to navigate, which I find very unsatisfactory.
I now know I watch too much HGTV. This morning, there have been at least 3 shows where they were painting walls, and they NEVER removed switch and outlet covers. Who does that?!?!? One or two screws and there you go - how hard is that?
It has been years since I burned my ear with the curling iron. A week or so I crisped my poor left ear. It hurt, it scabbed over, it healed.
This morning I cooked the very same ear in the very same spot with, of course, the very same curling iron. I’m afraid I’m not going to have much of an ear left, at this rate.
This is because the cats ate them, and don’t want to tell you because you might insist on taking them to the vet. Cats do not like going to the vet. You might try checking the litterboxes over the next few days, though.
Cats can be incredibly finicky about what they eat…if it’s something that you want them to eat, and something that you bought specifically for them to eat. Cats prefer to hunt down and kill their own food. Even if it’s something that humans would consider non-edible.
Also, very few cats show any interest at all in doing common household chores, unless you consider “putting a thick layer of fur on all the furniture to protect it” to be a household chore. Cats are generally pretty enthusiastic about that chore.
This is because the cats ate them, and don’t want to tell you because you might insist on taking them to the vet. Cats do not like going to the vet. You might try checking the litterboxes over the next few days, though.
Cats can be incredibly finicky about what they eat…if it’s something that you want them to eat, and something that you bought specifically for them to eat. Cats prefer to hunt down and kill their own food. Even if it’s something that humans would consider non-edible.
Also, very few cats show any interest at all in doing common household chores, unless you consider “putting a thick layer of fur on all the furniture to protect it” to be a household chore. Cats are generally pretty enthusiastic about that chore.
Sodalite, I’m starting to think we’re related. So far, I have had one memorably good birthday - it was my 30th when my husband threw me a surprise party. Before and since then, they have absolutely sucked. Last year’s wasn’t quite as bad as the previous years’ have been - my dad forgot my birthday (as usual), my mom insisted on coming and I wound up baking my own birthday cake (which is common, but at least I get what I want), I broke a finger, made my son cry by losing my temper with him for the very first time, fell down in the parking lot on my way to work and spent the rest of the day waiting for my pants to dry and for my shirt to stop smelling like coffee. Then I went home to clean up after my mom who had vomited in the downstairs bathroom. But at least I didn’t have to clean up her poop or spend two hours cleaning glass off the floor.
I’m sorry your birthdays have sucked so much. I hope they get better the more of them you have.
My mini-rant for today is brought to you by Weight Watchers. Yes, Weight Watchers, a program that I actually love, but has been tainted by the co-worker who sits next to me and tells me every single thing that goes into her mouth. I come in in the morning and get a report on her intake from the previous night. She eats something and I get a continuous commentary through my cube wall. At my baby shower this afternoon, she told me exactly how many points was in everything on my plate and hers. I think it’s great that she’s lost so much weight, but I’m sick of hearing about it.
Remember the zit in my ear? Well, it’s not a zit. The pain got worse and worse and worse and finally I went to the health center on campus today, and I officially have an ear infection. I’m typing this from the waiting room in the pharmacy as they get my antibiotics ready.
HOLY FUCKING SHIT IT HURTS SO FUCKING MUCH I WANT TO KICK A HOLE IN THE FUCKING WALL FUCK FUCK FUCK.
I’ll keep an eye out for a AA battery and a 1.5"x2" piece of plastic (or the remains thereof) in the litterbox.
It could be that they’re upset because I won’t open the door to my deck to let them properly hunt the frogs and moths, not to mention the birds and the occasional squirrel, that they keep seeing.
I get amazingly little cat hair on the furniture, but I recently had to upgrade my vacuum cleaner because the old one did such a poor job. I had to empty the new one twice the first time I used it - and that was just on the living room carpet.
That’s a retroactive rant. I got a tooth pulled a week ago. Before that it was drawing attention to itself in a most forward way, from time to time. It would be pulsing and demanding of tylenol for a day or so and then simmer down to being only a little belligerent under pressure. Then the bulge started and I called the dentist.
Saw the dentist and the root canal guy on the same day. Got an appointment with the oral surgeon to pull it the next morning. Didn’t cost as much as I had feared.
In a world where you often don’t know whether you made the right decision, this little event had some nice feedback. I went with a local, which turned out to be the right way to go. I went with assuming that the dead tooth was cracked, rather than having the root canal guy numb me and drill around hoping to find that it could be salvaged. It was cracked, straight down one root. Unsalvagable. That’s time, pain, and money saved.
Putting off going to the dentist for a couple of weeks even helped it show bone loss on the x-ray, which implied that it was cracked.
I have to say I did not at all enjoy keeping gauze on the seeping hole left behind. And, note to self, next time someone gives me a pain Rx ‘just in case’. I’ll get it filled before the local wears off. Waiting at the pharmacy with the gauze and the blood and the throbbing was not fun. Slow bastards. Slow bastards that binned it for pickup instead of calling me up to the counter. If I hadn’t gone up to check on how much longer it might be, I could have been there indefinitely.
But I’m chewing on both sides, now. I can eat. All is good. Except that the tooth was cracked because I grind my teeth at night. . . despite the night guard. This may happen again. Dammit.
I’m considering hypnotism. Do you think I could be hypnotized into not grinding my teeth?
Oh. Did you know that a recurring smell of dirty gasolene can be a sign of a tooth abcess?
Been there, done the Canadian version of that. The company I used to work for was Canadian. Most of its customers were in the States at the time it was bought by a British company. Of course, one of the things we had to decide was which dialect of English to use: US, Canadian, or British.
We ended up using Canadian, except when writing documentation that connected to the Visual Studio and other Microsoft help systems, in which case we followed Microsift’s lead. That didn’t get us out of having two sizes of all the four-colour glossies, though; we had an 8.5 x 11-inch version for ther States and Canada, and an A4 for overseas.
Dear Moron Covering the Office While I am Out for a Biopsy:
Why do you insist on being so stupid? When I send you an email that says “Please follow up on this project and take care of it while I am out of the office.”, that is not your cue to send me several single-sentence emails asking if I’ve already taken care of it. You stupid frackin idiot. Read. Your. Email.
There are at least 2 other people you could have taken the initiative to contact with your attempted evasion of an assignment OOPS I mean “question”. Thanks for helping. NOT. Guess how much work I will heap upon you when I return.
Oh and Senora Profesora - thanks for emailing the entire search committee to angrily point out TWO SIMPLE ERRORS I made in a spreadsheet intended to provide a synopsis of the 35 applicants for the open position, pendeja. You’re very fucking welcome I crammed to complete it for your convenience before I took two whole days off for a surgical procedure.
Oh and hey don’t forget that you already have all the data at your disposal and could have made those corrections yourself. Please look into increasing your dosage, you Type-A menopausal battleaxe.
Now I really feel like going back to work. Please pass the percocet.
