I’m over this wisdom tooth thing. I was over it when I started puking for no reason on Tuesday night. I was even more over it when I woke up in a (TMI alert) puddle of foul-smelling discharge this morning and the oral surgeon I called in a panic said it was normal. Uh-huh. I’m over having eaten nothing but half a piece of quiche and a pudding cup in 36 hours. My TMJ is flaring like hell and I can barely open my mouth. I spend every other minute fretting about getting dry socket. I want chips. Bitch bitch bitch. Etc. OVER IT.
How the fuck hard is it to read the fucking threads you’re responding to? I swear, a couple of times a day I come across threads where
1)the OP asks a question and specifically says “Note: I’ve already tried/I’m allergic to/my workplace forbids (such and such) so that’s not an option” and still half the replies blithely suggest (such and such) or
2)in a list of things, someone posts “I can’t believe nobody’s mentioned (something or other) yet!” when yes, in fact, 4 people have already mentioned it including the OP or
someone, in trying to clarify the OP’s situation, asks a question regarding a point that was already asked and answered 4 posts and 2 hours before
and all of these happen on the first page; it’s not as if anyone’s asking you to sift through 8 pages of niggly backbiting and walls o’ text. Read! It’s not that hard! It’s right there! You can even scroll up!
I’ve probably doomed myself to make the same mistake, but I swear, CTRL-F is a savior!
Fuck everybody associated with the running of Comic-Con! They have made it impossible for anybody to attend without going through a scalper next year, and they have jacked up the prices even without the scalpers. All the new rules mean that, no matter how hard you try, a single-day pass will probably cost you $500 by the time all the charges are added up. You can’t buy passes for next year on-site, you can’t buy them on-line, the system they try to use for on-line was antiquated in 1990 and always crashes, and the greedy bastards are selling out everybody who made them what they are. Fuck them with Dr. Doom’s cock.
I went down to the Apple Store;
Which I’d avoided years before;
It was revolting to the core:
The crowds, the heat, and more. . .
So I. . .I decided not to buy;
I couldn’t even get to a salesman guy.
Couldn’t hear a thing o’er the hue and the cry;
I guess it’s not the Apple of my ieye.
I’m going to hide this one…men, feel free to scroll on by.
I once read an argument against birth control wherein the person – I’m pretty sure it was a guy – stated that “fertility is not a curse”. I wish I could remember his name, because I would love to track his ass down and find out what, exactly, it should be called when one’s body starts producing massive cramps along with copious amounts of blood and clotted material that are capable of soaking through a tampon and two layers of clothing in just a few hours. (Fortunately, the pants were “tropic weight”…I was able to clean them enough to return to work without having to drive home.)
That one’s for women who don’t want to ever get pregnant (again), it should be noted. I was going to do Novasure if Mirena (hormonal IUD) didn’t work, but it shut off my periods like turning a faucet - just a “drip” every couple of months or so. Best yet, it’s also eliminated my migraines - knock wood.
I keep auto-completing myself when I type today. It’s like I go on auto-pilot or something.
Earlier I meant to type the word “list” but instead it came out “like”. “That” became “the”, etc.
I almost always catch myself but it’s still annoying as hell, especially when I was trying to type out work emails earlier. I had to proof-read a bunch of times and even get my husband to read a few.
She is 8. When she had her tantrum the most exciting thing i was trying to do was watch Keith Olbermann. and it was approximately half past 1. I need to make her get up at nights so I can help her not wet the bed. I could NOT even watch Rescue Me— i was so zonked. Also I’d found she took a Mountain dew I had for her brother.
Kids don’t care. They think that adults wait until the kids are asleep to do neat things that they’re forbidding kids to do, else why would the adults be so insistent that the kids go to sleep?
Also, if she’s dealing with bed-wetting, part of it may be a general reluctance to go to sleep, lest she wet the bed again. Maybe she’s putting it off because she’s embarrassed.
I’m wearing a new blouse to work today that, I swear to god, is so sensitive to handling that it shows fingerprints. I have dark spots on the outsides of both of my sleeves that were not there when I put the blouse on this morning. I have a long dark smudge on the right chest area that looks like someone with greasy fingers got fresh with me. And worst of all, I have dark spots under my arms from my deodorant touching the blouse, making it look like I’m sweating buckets. It’s a sheer gray polyester blouse from Banana Republic that is otherwise elegant, but I look like I found it in a dumpster or something. UGH.
Luckily, I don’t interact with many people at my job, but I can’t guarantee that no one will see me and think I’m grubby. I wish I could run home and change!
Best yet, it’s also eliminated my migraines - knock wood.