These are the gloves I use for my mandoline. They fill me with confidence.
I have a scratchy throat and a little gurgle/rattle in my chest. Argh. I want to know whether I’m sick or not.
Gargle with warm salty water, and maybe you won’t be sick after all?
I need to go back to bed. I got up too late with a sore throat, got snapped at by an asshole supervisor at work over making a minor mistake, realized I found the library book I was looking for after I went to the library and have mildly sprained my ankle yet again which means I’ll probably need surgery at some point soon. My old friend has not returned my calls which sucks as I want to speak with her. I want to go comfort a dear local friend dealing with cancer but the nasty chemo she’s getting has trigged shingles in her and my husband has not had the vax or a natural case of chicken pox so I can’t take that risk. I’m mostly pissed about the work thing. I work for this company full time. I do NOT get any paid time off that I can take at my leisure and I’ve gotten one lousy pay raise in quite a number of years so they can go fuck themselves for lecturing me about anything.
On the plus side, I spent some of the weekend shopping for clothing because I’ve been given a scholarship to attend the Shot@Life conference on vaccines in D.C. next week. The local six foot tall twelve year old in the dressing room next to me was so impressed with the idea of meeting an author, she hugged me.
I filed my federal taxes online, and am expecting a refund. The filing said that I should get my refund automatically deposited into my bank account in about 21 days. After 22 days and no refund, I went to the IRS website and looked my refund up, and they said the refund was sent to my bank on February 20 and I should get it into my account by the 25th.
It’s still not there, so I went back to the IRS website to print out the page which said that I should have it by now, and it now says my bank rejected the refund and the IRS will be mailing me a check by March 7 and to expect it by April 4. What the hell, Bank of America?
And why should it take a month to get to me via mail?
Fucking bunion…here I am limping round…suppose I should look into the surgery:eek:
(bolding mine) There’s your answer right there.
Stupid dog! I mean I love my dog and all, but we were playing and somehow he managed to scratch my face but good. Owie!
Dammit, weather dot com! If, the day before I travel to Norman, Oklahoma, I ask you for a ten-day forecast, how about you tell me that there’s going to be two frickin’ inches of SNOW hitting the ground over the weekend, instead of assuring me that the temp will not be dropping below 43F!
I definitely brought the wrong coat for this trip. Four days left, and I get to go home.
Cue my semi-annual “standard, daylight, split the difference, pick something else altogether, I don’t give a damn, just pick something and STICK WITH IT!!!” rant.
I’m with you. I would choose to stay on DST though vs. staying on standard time.
I really don’t care what “time zone” gets picked, I just hate the twice-a-year switchover hassles.
Aren’t you from sunny California? Everywhere will be cold for you! Heck, Houston is still cold for me and I’ve been there for a year and a half.
Get ye to the closest department store and buy some thermal undershirts. You can wear them under your shirt and all of the locals will think you are wearing a tee, instead of being a weenie.
Seconded all the time-changing rants. I hate it. We need to stop doing it. It serves no damned purpose at all.
Pulling out my “yes, it serves a decent enough purpose, suck it up already” counterpoint.
Prove it.
Just an FYI I discovered while waiting for the train. When wearing a very long winter coat, closed up all the way, farts rise. And linger. And run around with you.
Here is a car rant. When there is a long line of cars waiting to get on the entrance ramp, you being too stupid to think that the cars are all lined up to get on the freeway does not give you the right to cut in. And for another moron, don’t let anyone in. They can drive down the road, make a U-turn, and get on just as well.
Same goes for those who ride the exit only lane until the last minute and then cut into the regular lane because some moron let them. Let them sit there until they give up and are forced to exit, or until someone (in a big truck, I hope) hits them. Let them kiss airbag.
For the third time this year (already), I’ve had to tow another boat back to the marina. I understand “stuff happens”, and I really don’t mind, but here’s a little boating clue: “A boat is not a car”.
I imagine our poster Onomatopoeia (sp?) will back me on this but…
You do not “buy” a boat. No one does. You merely pay for the privilege of entering a long-term, unending battle with Entropy. If you do not join this fight, you will not last long out there… and the rest of us have to spend our afternoon getting you back to shore. I’m tired of hearing: “I dunno, it worked fine last fall.” :rolleyes:
Since January, I’ve:
- removed the lower unit
- replaced the gear oil
- replaced the raw water impeller
- replaced the seals and gaskets between upper and lower
- changed the engine oil
- replaced the water separator/filter
- greased and repacked all 4 bearings
- replaced one bilge blower*
- oiled all the teak
- replaced 2 docklines
- repaired a variety of canvas and snap issues
- checked and added drive and trim tab hydraulic oil
- tested and cleaned both bilge pumps
With one exception* these are normal, scheduled maintenance. Nothing was broken. And that is why some of us seem to always have running boats in the spring.
For those of you wanting cheap entertainment, go to your local public launch ramp with a cooler and a lawn chair on Memorial Day weekend. Seriously. This is some of the best free comedy available. 
I pulled out the sunrise/sunset time comparisons for Chicago whenever the hell it was we did Pit bitch-a-thon last, and was convinced enough by the ugly, insane timing of the sunrise without the effect of DST that I’m convinced. Especially since we are, indeed, “stuck” with the system so that there’s no need for me to convince anyone. 
But hey, personally, I would rather not spend the majority of June with the sun rising at (plus or minus a few minutes as the month progresses) four-fucking-fifteen in the morning, and it sounds like most reasonable people agree, thus the system. 
One of my coworkers brought in donuts for his birthday. It’s how we do things here. I get a donut and chomp happily away. I walk to his office to wish him a Happy Birthday. What do I see?
He has pink-eye.