Showing posts from April, 2012

Letter to Crazy. . . .

Dear Crazy,

It is never pleasant to have a day full of good intentions that ends in a total disaster. And per the waterfall effect, it just keeps getting better. One missed item seems to keep falling faster and faster, collecting many additional items on the way down to crash against the rocks of expectation to shatter into a million little glittering shards.

That is a bit much metaphor for a Wednesday morning. Let's just go with the premise that screwing up sucks.

I hate to do it, you hate to do it, we all hate to do it. It is a human desire to strive to be perfect, or at the very least, not cause mayhem because you can't keep all of the balls in the air. I do not mean a catastrophic fail. I just mean a, oops I forgot to do Blah blah blah fail. More of a Shame Shame on you fail. I think it bothers me because I end up feeling stupid, or inept. I ain't the sharpest tool in the shed, but I am not a stupid woman, so the shove towards public humiliation isn't making me yo…

Lather, Rinse, Repeat.

We all know those words. They are on every bottle of shampoo ever made, although I believe "as necessary" has been added to the end of the instructions. I am not sure who needed the caveat although someone had to need it or it would not have been added. Much like the "Do Not Ingest" has been added to hemorrhoid cream because someone felt the need to taste it at some point.

ANYWAY. . . .

For the most part, I do not like to repeat stupidity over and over. I don't think anyone does, and in fact I do believe there is a witty quote out in the ethereal plain that implies that THIS IS the definition of insanity.

I think, however, that there are things in life beyond our control. INSTRUCTIONS perhaps, provided by someone other than one's self, in a position of authority that you have to follow regardless of the lack of logic.

Execute the same stupid pattern of behavior, get the same jacked up results which bring all activity to a screeching halt, and then you ar…

Parade of Spaz Part Deux

There is a special place in heaven for my sibling. I am not sure what was said to the parental unit, but some minor behavioral adjustments have come to light in the two days she has been returned to my care taking.

We geared up for a whole new Parade of Spaz yesterday, but there were a couple of surprising substitutions that made it almost tolerable. I was still the designated pack animal of the O2 concentrator, but this time, no stupid little luggage cart. So I am guessing my charming sister in her reasonable sweet way convinced my mother to leave it alone. YAY.  I still got to walk behind her like a child on a leash from a parent, but no chance of taking out heels or it falling unless I had a stroke out of the blue and lost use of my arm. The second shock was when we got to the car, and my parent climbed into the back seat. It has been YEARS since I sat next to my spouse in the car when we are going some place if all three of us are in the car. I can't explain why that would ann…


I had a moment yesterday, on the job, where I stopped all movement, all thought, and just stared at my phone which had, until seconds previously, been participating in a conference call.
The next thing I knew it was silent.
This was apparently the result of a question that I put forth which was misunderstood.
To this moment I have no idea what was misunderstood.
All I know is, apparently it was enough to send a grown man into a temper tantrum that would be the envy of every toddler alive.
I was the cause of a conference call, of close to twenty people, to be abruptly ended with a hang up from the organizer.

Apparently trying to ensure that the information I was about to hear would ALSO be covered in an email I would be getting later in the day was the wrong thing to ask. '"Oh, well if that is the way you feel, the call is over. Everyone can go." CLICK <<extreme snotty tone employed for this comment>>

For the next 30 seconds or so, I simply sat and stared a…

Fun house Mirror Kind of Day

The great day of reckoning has come. Apparently once you hit 40+ all things begin the inevitable slide to decrepit disrepair and missing parts, not unlike every board game you play as a child.

Isn't it bad enough when you look in the mirror every morning and think, "WHO THE HELL GOT BEHIND MY MIRROR? I don't know who that woman is, and why does she look so old?" For some unknown reason in my mental image of me, I am stuck at about 23. And LORD DO I WISH I WAS STUCK AT 23, mostly because Gravity Works. Everything is going South. Not funny in any way shape or form. Droopy is not a look, it is a state of being, and it is not a good state either. Poor Dental plan, all of the signs are fuzzy and faded, just not a good vacation destination. That's all I am sayin'.

The most recent joy I am getting to experience is the inability to read certain fonts that fall below my new normal, anything smaller than say 10 pt Font, I am screwed. So I broke down and had to by &quo…


ob·tuse [uhb-toos,-tyoos] adjective 1.notquickoralertinperception,feeling,orintellect;notsensitiveorobservant;dull.
I spend all of my non-life living time in a cube farm. As do most of the people I know. Unless you have been somehow blessed with enough sense to do something more enlightened with your life. Farm life is not all bad given the circumstances. Being gainfully employed chief among the plus side items. The downside would be the noise, lack of door and privacy, and in my estimation nowhere for the cot for Nap Time. I would like to see Nap Time brought forward from Preschool. (just a thought).
In my neck of the cube farm I sit outside an office and a conference room. The farm inhabitants that utilize the conference room are, the majority of the time, considerate and kind and close the door. The asshat that sits in the corner office? NOT SO MUCH. Granted, as far as farm life is concerned, while we are more sheep or chickens in the farmland landscape he is more along the lines…

And the choir of joyous noise can be heard . . .

Peace unto my household until Tuesday. I can think and do, or not do and be unto myself until TUESDAY. I hear choirs of angels singing one long "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA"!

Ah Hypocrisy, how bountiful you be. . . . .

hy·poc·ri·sy -[hi-pok-ruh-see]noun,pluralhy·poc·ri·sies.1.apretenseofhavingavirtuouscharacter,moralorreligiousbeliefsorprinciples,etc.,thatonedoesnotreallypossess.
I am guilty of it, although I do strive to not be a hypocrite. I don't tolerate other religions, or sexual preference or races or political affiliation.

I DON'T CARE to differentiate.

As long as your life doesn't involve the harm of a fellow biped or quadruped. I don't care who you chose to love, or worship, or vote for. If you don't beat or molest children or animals, or think blood sacrifice is of the utmost importance then I am about live and let live.

My guilt would stem from the fact that I laugh at jokes I probably shouldn't, or say things I shouldn't in a moment of thoughtlessness. The difference? I THINK. I am aware (and yes even ashamed of myself), BUT I DON'T WALK AROUND PRETENDING TO BE SOMEONE I AM NOT. If I even remotely th…

Fossilized Umbilical Cord

My wonderful sibling has booked a vacation for the family for May. One of my co-workers suggested I take my vacation but stay at home with my husband while my sibling takes the parental unit away for a week.

I causally mention this to the parental unit, just tossing that out there like a thought grenade that could go off in her head at any time, perhaps planting the seed that MAYBE I would like to spend some alone time with the spouse. Not that we really need it since being on opposite schedules we don't really even SEE each other, but hey, I will take what I can get.

The result was not QUITE what I was looking for. I got, "Well if you don't go, I am not going."

I know, at this point, I don't even need to say it, BLANK FACE.

Should I have perhaps said, we want some SEXY TIME? Do I need to parade my cottage cheese covered ass cheeks around the house in all their nekkid glory for her to get the idea that I might want to have alone time with my spouse? Apparently. S…

Alrighty then. . .

*realized that I needed to place gentle reminder - Ramirez = former psycho in charge = serial killer boss*

Ramirez, "How's it going?"
Me, "Alright. Small stumbling blocks but I am pushing through."
Ramirez, "Glad to hear it."
Me, "Thanks. How are things with the new position?"
Ramirez, "Not as much fun as what I was doing before."
Me, "Well, I am sure it will change again soon."
Awkward silence as Ramirez scrolls through cell phone.
Ramirez, "Just dropped my laptop off with IT."
Me, "What happened?"
Ramirez, "No sound. I plugged earphones in and have never been able to get the sound to work again."
Me, "Oh, well I hope they get that fixed for you soon."
Ramirez, "I have to go bury my grandmother tomorrow."
Me, "I am so sorry to hear that!"
Ramirez, "It should have happened years ago."


Ramirez, "When I have gone away for business to XXXXX…

the morning you discover your lemmingness....

Most people are sheeple, they wander through the world, at one point having had free will, they have surrendered it up to the masses to simply follow a stronger lead. Some actively chose this, some just kind of give up and let the tide carry them where they may. Some are born sheeple and will never evolve above it, nor do they even recognize that they are sheeple or there is a choice to change it.

I as a rule am not a sheeple. I have a rather strong opinion which I am more than willing to share frequently and verbosely. I am not necessarily a trail blazer but I don't follow unless I have made the conscious decision to do so. I did however have the lack of sleep induced realization that I am indeed a LEMMING.

I get into my little box of a car and hurtle myself down the road to a job that holds no joy, other than the side entertainment of odd moments and friends, and the check that pays the mortgage. I don't jump off a cliff, but it is a more sad little death of moment by momen…