My over bearing ruling class ( the Siamese cats ) have beds on top of the dryer in the laundry room. They can watch my every move from there. I am not allowed to put anything on the dryer. Sometimes I am not allowed to walk too close to the dryer without receiving a soft slap ( soft, this time ). This is the nature of my internment. I am a lifer.
Go Missy Go Missy Go Missy!
My mother has always had cleaning ladies if economically possible; I always find her territorial issues with OMG the horse figurines are all looking in the same direction again! hilarious. Apparently one of my own virtues as a cleaning lady is that I’m capable of aligning the knick-knacks and piles of papers when the people who actually work or live there want them that way, and of leaving them un-aligned when that’s how they like it.
After not getting a newspaper delivered for a week, I called the customer service number to see what was going on. Apparently, when we were out of town for three days earlier in the month when my mom died, our carrier noticed nobody had picked up the papers in the driveway and took it upon himself to have our subscription cancelled. WTF business is it of his anyway if the papers are picked up or not? So then I had to spend another half hour on the phone with the customer service chimp who seemed barely able to work a computer, in order to get a new subscription set up.
I laughed hard at this so thanks.
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But don’t go away…
Sorry, I can’t even hear the name Missy without flashing back to the funniest, most passive-aggressive emails on the internet:
“Missing Missy” (an epic Shannon production)
Yes, Missy’s a cat. The other emails are fun, too… don’t miss “Please design a logo for me. With pie charts. For free.”
Apparently, I am not as picky as Nava’s Mother or some of our cats, because I usually don’t care enough about placement unless something really gets in the way or so far out of my reach that I have to stand up and get it. Lazy is probably a very good name for this condition.
Missy isn’t the first cat I’ve had who has been pickier than me*, but she’s the first cat Karen has dealt with who does this sort of stuff.
She doesn’t have cats and my BB only had 1 cat before we got together and he (cat) only noticed if there was clothing on the floor. He would promptly pee on it, which meant that nobody left clothing on the floor. (Even in the heat of the moment, our clothes always got tossed on something besides the floor.)
I did have the dreaded talk with Karen today and told her that Missy was the one who was moving things, not the dogs (or us, but I didn’t say that part). I don’t think she believes me because she stanchly defended Missy as a “very good cat who never gets on the counters!”
She also told me that she liked that kitchen towel on that drawer because of something, but if it bothered me, she would fold it up on the counter instead.
Missy does indeed rule the household, because I told Karen that maybe just folding it on the counter would be a better idea without trying to defend myself or explaining that cats are very, VERY sneaky when they want to be and that I am sure that Missy only waits until Karen moves into a different room before fixing things.
*my late Princess Kitty the most Beautimus always wanted all eyes on her and would move figurines so that their eyes pointed towards the middle of the room. Or so that is what I thought when I’d catch her moving them because she was so vain that she thought that all songs were about her.
Well, if the dirtbag had been at the Seattle VA, then THEY could be expected to maintain a sign-in log, no? You may not have the horsepower to compel them to release that, but your insurance company might.
Especially if you suggest to them that it might make the difference between you just renewing your policy and shopping around for a company that looks out for its policyholders.
Seconded. And I’m glad to see that you’re getting settled into a routine in your new place. 
Start rebelling. leave the lint on top of the dryer when you clean the lint screen, just to see how they react.
My mini rant (they always have an upside and a downside; I guess that’s why they’re mini):
Upside: My husband is trying to save money by eating lunch at home at least once or twice a week. Which is great.
Downside: He does it when I work from home so he can spend time with me. The problem is that a) my work schedule is completely different and 90% of the time I have meetings during lunch, b) we don’t eat the same thing and c) I like the quiet. So today when he called me and said, “Hey, I’m coming home to hang out! Let’s have the same damn thing we’ve eaten 3 nights already this week when I know you had plans to grab a salad you’d really been looking forward to” (or maybe it was, “Can’t wait to see you for lunch - leftovers?” and I somehow translated it wrong) I sadly glanced at my car, at my quiet office, sighed and decided I’d just be hungry until he leaves so I can get my salad and eat in peace. Assuming I have an opportunity to do so before my mom arrives.
Oh, did I mention my mom is coming to visit tonight? For a week? And this is the only time I’ll get until next Friday to not have someone talk at me constantly and comments on how fat I’ll get if I eat something? Fuuuuuck, I need to take some PTO so I can stare at a wall and not talk to anybody for 8 hours.
A friend’s husband is pissed off at us because we’ve been nice to his wife.
My gf has a friend whose husband is from Kentucky. She wants him to relocate to PA, but he wants her to relocate to Kentucky. They’ve been married almost a year. He got an opportunity (funding) to finish his Masters Degree (in Kentucky) so he is living there off and on for the next year.
My gf feels bad for the wife sitting alone at home all the time, so she invites her along whenever we go out, which is fairly often. We’ve kind of become a threesome, going out and having a blast. No hanky-panky, just drinking and seeing bands.
So yesterday the friend told my gf that her husband is pissed off at us for being friends with his wife. He thinks that if she just sat at home alone she’d give in and agree to move to Kentucky. She, meanwhile, wants to continue hanging out with us, even if it means her marriage ends up crumbling.
I am not worthy!
The dryer lint and dryer sheets are a big issue.
I have to get close to the beds to clean the lint screen out. I usually do it while they are eating in the kitchen. As soon as I pull out the thingy, both cats stop mid-chew and glare at me.
One day I was careless and a small red tinted piece if lint got on one bed. I went in the laundry room to see both cats in the other bed staring at the tiny red-tinted piece of lint with derision written allover their lovely brown faces ( I am required to call them beautiful several times a day). I grabbed the lint and put it in my pocket. So then they stared at my hoodie pocket, as punishment. I was only saved by giving each cat a little treat. So I lived to face another day. Such is my life, Cat slave that I am.
I confess to some mixed feelings about one aspect of my job.
I don’t like tobacco. My parents smoked like fiends and I always found it a disgusting habit. My dad died of lung cancer. I don’t like smoking.
On the other hand, it IS legal. Adults have the right to purchase tobacco in our society.
At work, I am frequently stationed next to the cigarette rack and I wind up selling cigarettes to tobacco addicts on a daily basis. I am polite and service-oriented towards them, I make sure they get what they want, I say nothing against their addiction. But I feel… dirty. I’m selling something that I know is unhealthy. I’m selling something I find disgusting. On the other hand, I do feel that as long as it is legal I can’t tell another adult they can’t do it, and certainly not in the context of being a cashier.
Don’t think there’s really a great answer to that. Sometimes, being a grown up isn’t fun.
Oh, we know who it was. He was all friendly and helpful up until he (most likely) figured out his premiums would go up if he had a claim against him, then he lied. My insurance company has been wonderful. If anyone has a chance to do business with Mutual of Enumclaw located here in the Seattle area, I highly recommend them. I got my coverage through AAA so I have a nice discount, too.
I just found out I won’t have my car for another ten days! There must be a delay getting a part or something. If I’d known that I would’ve kept my car until they had it. I’m just not comfortable maneuvering this Impala so I’m going to trade it in for something smaller since now I’m going to have it awhile. I’m also going to complain about their stripping the backup camera which is quite necessary for this vehicle.
I worked in a liquor store for awhile. Every morning we had a handful of serious drunks waiting for us to open. It was sad, really, I hated selling them the booze. They paid with shaking hands. But, the saddest ones were by far the ones who would come in begging. They had no money. The owner of the store would keep the whiskey that had lost it’s seal and partially evaporated or the label had came off. He would give that to them. Terrible. I too felt guilty.
Hey Go365, here’s a little tip for your website. If you put an asterisk next to a sentence then you should have a footnote with further information. That’s what the asterisk indicates.*
So enjoy the shitty feedback I gave you on your survey!
(It wasn’t just the asterisk, it was the circular logic to register. To register you need an ID number. I don’t have one yet, that’s WHY I need to register!)
When I worked in a store that sold booze. We had the most depressing regular who would show up almost every day, walk up to the counter holding something like a newspaper and a loaf of bread and ask for a bottle of vodka, always in a fake casual way like she’d really just gone out for bread, and the booze was an afterthought.
She made friends with the staff, and used to stop and chat in quiet times. She was the sole carer for her husband that was dying by inches, and had been for several years. She had time to walk to the shops, while he was napping, but she only had half an hour or so before he woke up.
Sometimes she still had her bedroom slippers on.
Her husband wasn’t sick enough to be hospitalised yet, though he couldn’t get out of bed any more, and he desperately didn’t want to go to a care home, so that was her whole life; caring for him alone and numbing her brain to cope.
She couldn’t get help, she could just get vodka.
I can’t help but think there’s something missing in your post.
Here’s a little something for all the web sites and ads that use Half-An-Asterisk,
with no corresponding explanation or disclaimer at the bottom of the ad:
*Madja look!
I was so glad when the grocery store I work at quit selling tobacco. Of course they didn’t do it for any altruistic reason, they did it because the kickbacks from the tobacco companies had been reduced.