We had a wind storm last week, and I was driving to work on the backroads I always take. I came upon a car stopped by a tree that had fallen across the road.
Since I didn’t have a chainsaw with me, and the tree was too big to deal with anyways, I put my Wrangler into 4WD and drove around the obstruction.
As I went by the other car I noticed the woman behind the wheel was furious, screaming and giving me the finger. As I continued on, she blared her horn nonstop.
I’m 99.9% certain the tree hadn’t fallen on her car, trapping her. I’d have offered help if that were the case. I can’t figure out though why she was angry with me.
Ok, so this one is really minor, but damn it annoys me. Now that it is heating the house season, I have to put the toilet paper roll on in the incorrect underhand method, otherwise the forced air heat unrolls it.
Clearly, you were supposed to stop, load her and any of her belongings into your 4WD, and drive her to her home, unload her, and bow gracefully for the honour of helping her.
That’s really all I wanted. We are able to do the yard clean up and the broken car parts were all small enough for us to pick up. We just couldn’t move the sign and I wasn’t going to get any sleep because I was going to be laying awake listening for a crash.
In the daylight, we also noticed that the drunk smashed one of my pyracantha. I hope they are pulling thorns out of stuff forever!
Just fuck you, Billy Graham, Jr., and your annoying commercials to entice the terminally stupid into calling your 800 number for “someone to pray with you”. Yeah, right. At how much per minute, you fucking leech on humankind’s ass? Fuck you, you god-spouting predator. Your father was a phony asshole and so are you.
I’ve never been pregnant, but if I ever were, I’d keep a detailed daily diary. Partly for me, because there are so many distractions and this is an experience I’d want to remember all of, but also as a keepsake for the baby way down the road. I don’t know if this would make the time pass faster, but it would be a good place to work out all those anxieties and worries (but maybe edit the keepsake version). For me , writing helps, which may not be the case for everyone. However you do the time, enjoy all of it, it’s a remarkable process.
What in the hell has happened to air compressors at gas stations? I tried three different locations in town; the units were either too damaged to be useful, or were flagged as being out of order.
People say all those trite things because usually when people say they’re old, they’re just fishing for compliments about how young they look. Others get upset at the idea that they might need any accommodation just because they’re 50. So you can’t get too upset at people’s glossing over your complaints – they’re trying to not upset you. You need to be very specific in what accommodations you want. Not sure what others can do about your acid reflux (which is not necessarily an age related problem), but if you say ‘Slow down’, or ‘Give me an extra 10 minutes" because I’m not as fast as I used to be’, they’ll likely accommodate you. Also, a 20 -minute daily stretching program covering all the major muscle groups will help tremendously with the loss of flexibility. Which will help prevent the muscle pulls, and sciatica, and other common old age complaints.
Also, Spice Kit clearly loves Sr. Weasel more than me. He is just enraptured with anything my husband does. He follows him all over the house. Yes, it’s adorable. But where does that leave me? I’m just lame Mom.
Today: Me: He just has so much energy. Sr. Weasel: Well, he sure doesn’t get it from you.
It’s true, but like, I have clinical depression. I get that he’s a better parent than me, I really do, but he doesn’t have to rub it in.
NONONONO!!! He’s a different parent, not better. Quite frankly, I don’t think he was rubbing it in, but joking about the energy levels. Of course, I wasn’t there and I’m usually wrong about relationship issues, but I am NOT wrong about him being a better parent. You are both noobs, you are figuring out things differently, but your Kit didn’t come with an instruction manual and nobody knows him better than you guys.
In our family, the “favorite” cycled every few months, then every few years. But it was precisely during the high school years, when I was the “take you out and do dangerous stunts” parent, that my wife took up the slack in terms of “make sure all the college applications and financial aid paperwork was done.”
Right now, she’s the favorite. I’m fine with that, I just have to remember to ask her what the kids are going through (they’ll text her with their personal dramas, maybe to avoid me saying “Sounds sucky… so suck it up.”)
If he routinely said things like that, I might agree with you. He apologized for that one as soon as he said it.
Yes, we tease each other a lot and I think he just made a bad joke. My insecurity about being a good parent has been a running theme lately so what is meant as lighthearted teasing can feel brutal when I’m feeling demoralized.
Before I became a parent, being upset about one parent being the “favorite” seemed laughable to me. Of course I won’t mind! My job is to provide for my child’s needs with zero expectation of receiving anything in return!
Hahaha. No, it turns out, I want my baby to love me.
Your baby loves you. Your partner loves you. We all love you and think that you are being a bit of a silly-billy and are a brand new parent. I don’t think that any first time parent feels confident and in control.
Meh. Fold a clean (dry) facecloth and drape it over the roll.
My minirant: my daughter called me last night at 11:00 (2 a.m. for her), and let me know her toilet was clogged and flooded the bathroom floor. She used every dry cloth in the apartment to clean it up, and it still wouldn’t plunge clear. Her landlord is an observant Jew, so she had to wait until sundown for him to text her to call a plumber (at her own expense). The $50 house call is going to come to $92, when taxes and COVID sanitation costs are added. I should hav asked her if waiting until Monday would cost less (probably not).
A hearty fuck you to Swarovski for suddenly deciding that the great unwashed masses should no longer be able to purchase their loose beads and other embellishments. I just design jewelry for my own enjoyment, but this sudden decision has really hit a lot of designers and suppliers hard. What a slap in the face for years of brand loyalty.
