That would all be true. If the parents weren’t wackos. But wackos gotta wack.
Besides, 65-70 years ago, nobody named their daughters Taylor; it wasn’t a unisex name. Post-, say 2000, sure. Not in 1953.
I get something like that occasionally, on the outboard edges of my eyebrows (the right seems to do it more frequently than the left). Tweezers solve it nicely.
The small check was supposed to come to the store today. I kept texting, the boss said, we’re trying to figure how many hours you put in.2? I said no, it was 5 and a half and I logged 2 hours online.
So that means my check Didn’t come, or its less than it should be?
I need that amount to get me through til I get a new job and paid weeks later. My month expenses bare minimum without coffee are 25 rent, 40 bus’s, 20 toilet paper.
Jesus, 1953 was 70 years ago.
F-u-u-u-uck me.
I had exactly that reaction as I was figuring out the math from their ages. Scary shit gettin’ old(er).
I feel kind of like I’ve scaled rickety scaffolding up the side of a building slowly and surely. No big deal. Then I turn around and look at the view from up here, or worse yet look down at the height of the fall and WOW. Shivvers!!
My daughter has started school. That is a good thing. I am not mad about that and I am not being sarcastic. What I am irritated about is that this means she needs a new prescription for physical therapy. Every year, it is like pulling teeth getting a new prescription sent. I don’t understand why it is so hard. We know she has diagnoses that require physical therapy that haven’t changed. We do this every year. Why does the doctor’s office act like they’ve never done this before? And, in the meantime, her therapy gets delayed while we wait.
Referrals do expire. Could that be it?
Yes, that’s why we have to do it once per year. But the doctor’s office is mystified by the school asking for the prescription. Even though they ask for it every year.
Institutional stupidity, then.
Yes, you do it every year, but your kid’s case isn’t as important to the doctor’s office as it is to you. Since you know it’s going to happen again next year, you have a chance now to get everything together for next year. Set a reminder for yourself to re-read this post in July, 2024.
And best of luck in getting the 2023 iteration to run smoothly.
I woke up with my peak expiratory flow in the yellow again. My cousin thinks it’s mold. So we’re doing that now, I guess.
I forgot my fucking Vyvanse this morning which I only figured out after sleeping on the couch for two hours.
Lots of depression and anxiety today as I try to figure out what to do about my job.
Another issue here is, I rarely have 40 hours of work to do, and now we’ve gotta bill 40 hours. I have to figure out what to do to fill all that time. After several hours of panic, I’m developing some ideas. After I’m done organizing all of my files and shit, and put in some time prospecting for new funders (something I admit is lacking in my routine) I think I’m going to make this the Year of Professional Development. I’m going to put myself through an online leadership course and read as many books about development as I can. And I’ll study the manual from the Grant Professionals Association. I know my CEO will approve of this (she’s already approved the leadership course) and all of this is consistent with the purpose of the grant, which is capacity building and extremely open-ended, so I think the state will approve. I think there could be a very clear line drawn between my professional development and increased organizational capacity.
I think, and here’s the hard part, I’m going to have to learn how to start talking to funders. It’s one of the skills I’m lacking due to intense social anxiety, but this is probably the best time to try to learn it. And what a report that would be!
I had the hard conversation with my CEO. I told her I was worried about having to take intermittent FMLA to take my son to various appointments without a flexible schedule if I were state funded. She said no problem we’ll figure something else out, and heaped me with copious amounts of praise. I know I’m lucky. I may not always work 40 hours but I put my best effort into everything I do, my heart and soul is in this agency and I’m determined to help it succeed. She did say she was skeptical about flexible schedules before she came on board, but I’m living proof that it can make magic happen. Her words. I praised her too, because I’m genuinely impressed with the work she’s done in her short time here. So it was a good lovefest all around. She wants to meet my son.
In addition to the usual cigarette butts, vomit, trash, and other delights outside of our local Walgreen’s, today there was a meth addict collapsed on the sidewalk asking for spare change. Walgreen’s really doesn’t give a damn. They won’t pop for a security officer for the store, so thefts are common. In fact, they don’t even have shopping carts because thieves fill them up and then run out the door. What a world.
I know that fall is impending and Halloween is inevitable, but the cinnamon brooms can just fuck right the hell off. I should not smell cinnamon in the grocery store parking lot when the heat index is 101°.
I was always told that over-tweezing would cause the hair to die at the root. I’ve been tweezing this damn boar bristle off of my chin for over two years; it’s a little slower to come back lately, but it definitely keeps growing. 
No, see, that only works on eyebrows that you mistakenly over-tweeze. It doesn’t work on the ones you want to eliminate.
First rant: I got a meal-to-go from a high-end healthy grocery store yesterday evening, and have been having miserable intestinal cramping since I woke up today at 6:30am. It’s finally starting to ease up after almost 12 hours. Idk if there was something wrong with the meal, or if it just hit me the wrong way.
Second rant:
Yesterday, received my monthly email from Wells Fargo, directing me to “click here” to access the monthly statement (my place of employment, not personal). Every other banking institution I use knows enough not to send emails directing you to click on links! WF even sends emails warning not to click on email links.
Yesterday the power company replaced the streetlight bulbs. I looked out last night and couldn’t believe how hideous they are. They give off a super-bright greenish-yellow light that casts everything in a sickly pall. My god, did they not ever look at these in the actual dark? Today I was thinking about how I love watching snowflakes in a streetlight’s glow. Now they will look like twirling snot. The one closest to my house is not working. I hope no one calls to report it.
One of the lights in our parking lot gives off a green glow. In the winter, the snow looks green!
When the city replaced the bulbs on my block with LED’s, they were set way too bright. Calling to report it got them to come out and adjust them correctly. Maybe yours can be adjusted?