...have I been.
I'm sorry, I've been so busy. I'm trying to run an online shop to sell my lampwork beads. And it's a lot of work.
I was going to delete this blog, but I decided to keep it opened and post links here if you want to check in on me.
www.blogspot.com/glasstastictreasures
www.glasstastictreasures.etsy.com
http://www.freewebs.com/glasstastictreasures/
http://www.squidoo.com/lensmasters/GlasstasticTreasures
Feel free to visit me at any of these sites. Or leave me a comment here if you have something you'd like to hear about. I'll check in every now and then!
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
WTF language is this?
I don't know how your company works, but our company keeps a skeleton crew with the expectations that nothing will EVER go wrong. Well, they couldn't be more wrong.
They've been trying to cross train us so each one on our team members can do someone else's job, just in case something happens. But we're so shorthanded we just don't have the time or resources. "We need to get this cross training done in the unfortunate event that something happens to someone. God forbid!" OK, that's all fine and dandy, so when would you like us to squeeze that in?
Well, we started creating "Job Aids" which contain, or are supposed to contain, the full instructions to complete a job. Any monkey is supposed to be able to pick up these papers and do any job. Wow, what a relief! This will really be helpful. NOT.
So yesterday, an unfortunate event happened and one of our team mates needed surgery. Okay, we have job aids. I'm sure it won't be easy, but how hard can it be? Well, let me tell you!
Not only did I have my own 8 hours worth of work to do, but now I had someone else's 8 hours of work. So anyways, I sit down with a "Job AID" to process a report. I read, and re-read, and RE-READ. OK, I think I have it. I pull the report down from a program, I save it as Excel. I move colums, hide others, and create new ones. OK, now I need a macro do pull some more information, it's found on the share drive, so I look, and I look....it's not there. That's OK, I can do a "vlookup", so I read, and re-read, and RE-READ...turn the page, no vlookup instructions.
WTF! I've maybe done ONE vlookup in my life, I can't pull the information out of my ass, although that is apparently where my crystal ball is stored! Because some people ASSUME you know what they know. Well, what happens when you assume? It only makes an ASS out of U and ME!! So now I'm the idiot sitting there with no one to help me and a file that needs to be worked so it can be sent to the main office!! ARRRRG And the fargin instructions are even more asinine!
So wtf is this? It looks like English. They are English words, but they make absolutely NO sense! So finally, on the SECOND day, I figure out that what's not making any sense is the face that the "heading" for the next set of the instructions is actually labeled as a STEP, instead of a description! Make any sense to you? Well, it didn't make sense to me either. AAAAAAAAAAAAH!! So here's me, reading this paper, weeping, wondering why I have to look in the item inquiry, and then 2 steps down have to do it again. When it clicked, I swear, it was a good thing that woman was not at work. Wham bam, to the MOON!
Well, another day was wasted on that garbage. I finally managed to get the bulk of it done. It's now two days late. Not sure I care at this point. I was just glad the manager was at our meeting this morning, because I basically said I was going to have to choose what was NOT going to get done today. That's always a good thing to be able to do to upper management! HAHAHA!
Good thing they gave me that big raise this year....I almost walked. Oh well, another day, another disaster!
They've been trying to cross train us so each one on our team members can do someone else's job, just in case something happens. But we're so shorthanded we just don't have the time or resources. "We need to get this cross training done in the unfortunate event that something happens to someone. God forbid!" OK, that's all fine and dandy, so when would you like us to squeeze that in?
Well, we started creating "Job Aids" which contain, or are supposed to contain, the full instructions to complete a job. Any monkey is supposed to be able to pick up these papers and do any job. Wow, what a relief! This will really be helpful. NOT.
So yesterday, an unfortunate event happened and one of our team mates needed surgery. Okay, we have job aids. I'm sure it won't be easy, but how hard can it be? Well, let me tell you!
Not only did I have my own 8 hours worth of work to do, but now I had someone else's 8 hours of work. So anyways, I sit down with a "Job AID" to process a report. I read, and re-read, and RE-READ. OK, I think I have it. I pull the report down from a program, I save it as Excel. I move colums, hide others, and create new ones. OK, now I need a macro do pull some more information, it's found on the share drive, so I look, and I look....it's not there. That's OK, I can do a "vlookup", so I read, and re-read, and RE-READ...turn the page, no vlookup instructions.
WTF! I've maybe done ONE vlookup in my life, I can't pull the information out of my ass, although that is apparently where my crystal ball is stored! Because some people ASSUME you know what they know. Well, what happens when you assume? It only makes an ASS out of U and ME!! So now I'm the idiot sitting there with no one to help me and a file that needs to be worked so it can be sent to the main office!! ARRRRG And the fargin instructions are even more asinine!
So wtf is this? It looks like English. They are English words, but they make absolutely NO sense! So finally, on the SECOND day, I figure out that what's not making any sense is the face that the "heading" for the next set of the instructions is actually labeled as a STEP, instead of a description! Make any sense to you? Well, it didn't make sense to me either. AAAAAAAAAAAAH!! So here's me, reading this paper, weeping, wondering why I have to look in the item inquiry, and then 2 steps down have to do it again. When it clicked, I swear, it was a good thing that woman was not at work. Wham bam, to the MOON!
Well, another day was wasted on that garbage. I finally managed to get the bulk of it done. It's now two days late. Not sure I care at this point. I was just glad the manager was at our meeting this morning, because I basically said I was going to have to choose what was NOT going to get done today. That's always a good thing to be able to do to upper management! HAHAHA!
Good thing they gave me that big raise this year....I almost walked. Oh well, another day, another disaster!
Sunday, February 24, 2008
LIfe isn't all sunshine and daisies!
I was on a website promoting my blog and someone asked if anything nice ever happens to me. Hmm, well, sure, nice things happen all the time.
- I got a huge raise at work
- my husband remembered Valentine's day
- My husband got a new job
- We're making plans to build a new garage
- We're getting ready to refinance and take out a home equity loan for a tax write off
- My son got a great raise at work and is next in line for a promotion
- I'm almost done assembling my exhaust system for my lampwork beads and will be able to start making beads again soon
- I have plans to build a new lampworking/stained glass studio, and I get to do whatever I want
Do you want me to go on? Does that in any way sound fun and humorous? I didn't think so either. Who wants to hear how perfect someone else's life is, so they can feel miserable and wish they had it better? I'm not here to make anyone feel miserable or inferior. I'm here to make people laugh! Anyone who is married can certainly say it's not a story of sunshine and daisies every single day. And anyone who says it is is either lying or in for a rude awakening one fine day when their "magic bubble" of life pops.
So why not let everyone see the humor in what disaster befalls me. Laugh it up, completely at my expense. I don't care. I'd love to make you laugh, smile or just feel a little better about your day.
Here's an example of my perfect life. When my husband and I were dating, he used to stop the car right in the middle of the road to pick me wild flowers and wild roses off the side of the road. I saved every one of them in a little Whitman's chocolate box he'd given me as a gift. After I ate the chocolate, of course. I have the ring he gave me when we were dating. I have pictures of parties with friends, of our first years together.
But the irritating and humorous part of my life is that:
- in the box with those flowers are the other little trinkets like the quarter he gave me for payment after one of our amorous parking adventures.
- The little metal "ford" plaque that fell off the doorjamb of the car we parked in.
how about stuff not in the box!
- Pictures of friends passed out at these parties
- The ring is in a box because I could never wear the cheap piece of garbage because it was made by some idiot who never considered that the design would actually inflict pain upon the wearer
- How about the little blue Volkswagen bug he sold on me because he got the white interior full of blood at one of his drinking parties when some idiot put his fist through a window and my husband graciously drove him to the ambulance station while blood was squirting all over and it looked like a massacre had taken place in it.
- or maybe the time I found out about him and his friends doing a tractor challenge over my Ford Grand Marquise because that was the only car they could find at the time they got that bug up their ass
- Here's a good one... the night I came home from my first night out with the girls after my son was born only to have him standing there all upset because the baby was crying and he was never babysitting for ME again! (not sure how watching your own kid is babysitting)
Ah, now wasn't that much more fun to hear about?
Am I the only person in this house with any brains?
Seriously, am I?
I woke up this morning to find out my 3 year old granddaughter had thrown up 3 times last night. The bathtub is full of puke, the blankets and pillowcases are full of puke. Someone in this cosmos please tell me WHY anyone would think it's a good idea to have a child throw up in the bathtub and then pile laundry on top of it???
Is common sense hereditary? Because if it is, they are missing some serious DNA!
Then, Natalea, the 3 year old, comes back to the office trailing a green strand of yarn behind her, asking for scissors. Okay, let's go see what's going on there. The 7 year old, Elyzabeth, and Natalea have some invention idea and need the yarn to create something. Okay, that's fine, we encourage imagination here. Let's just clean it up when we're done, alright? Okay.
Then, I go into the bathroom and open the shower door. I shed a lot of hair, and I have a special plastic drain cover to catch all the hair before it gets stuck in the drain. It's much easier to clean up that way.
Now, what happens next is totally my fault, but it's my shower and I'm entitled to freak out...I can see that someone used the shower, Eric, my 24 year old son. That's okay, his hair is shaved so how bad can it be? It's my hair, that he didn't bother to ask me to take out BEFORE he showered, so I'll just scoop it out....with my finger...bad idea!
The story here is that the shower doesn't really drain all that quickly. My husband says that's because the vent pipe is frozen. I think there's something else wrong, but what do I know. I'm just a woman. So I have to leave the shower to drain completely so I can clean my hair out. By the time I remember it's the next day, so I clean it out, the hair and shower is dry so even better for me.
Well, today, it's wet, but I have a strong stomach so I take my finger and start scooping hair. Oh, wait, what's this? IT'S NOT HAIR! Someone decided to clear out their sinuses in my shower that has a drain cover on it that won't allow hair through, let alone a loogie!! WHY, why on God's green earth would anyone think it's a good idea to spit that shit in a shower with virtually no where for it to GO???????
Okay, so there's a lot of colorful expletives and yelling going on. And the grand kids are curious as to what is going on. So after the chaos is over, I walk out of the bathroom and become tangled in about 35 feet of GREEN YARN!!
me: WHAT THE HELL IS THIS CRAP?!!! Did I, or did I not say to clean this up after yourselves.
7 year old: Yes you did, but we're not done with it.
me: Well, it looks to me like you're done since your sitting in the corner playing a game and not anywhere near the yarn, nor are you even touching it. Now clean it up!
7 year old: okay!
I dig puke covered pillowcases and towels out of the other shower and to the wash machine, wishing I could bleach them, but can't because the cases are bright blue and brand new. On the return trip from the wash machine I AGAIN become entangled in the yarn!!
What the hell, you're not touching this yarn therefore you're done with it now pick it up NOOOOOOWW!! Reply: OKAY! And someone shut off that damn Dora game, for the love of God, before I go insane. Reply: OKAY!
Why do I have to get out of control before anyone hears me? Is it really necessary for me to have to get mad around here? Well, at least the yarn is cleaned up and the game is turned down.
Now to clean up some pukey blankets.
I woke up this morning to find out my 3 year old granddaughter had thrown up 3 times last night. The bathtub is full of puke, the blankets and pillowcases are full of puke. Someone in this cosmos please tell me WHY anyone would think it's a good idea to have a child throw up in the bathtub and then pile laundry on top of it???
Is common sense hereditary? Because if it is, they are missing some serious DNA!
Then, Natalea, the 3 year old, comes back to the office trailing a green strand of yarn behind her, asking for scissors. Okay, let's go see what's going on there. The 7 year old, Elyzabeth, and Natalea have some invention idea and need the yarn to create something. Okay, that's fine, we encourage imagination here. Let's just clean it up when we're done, alright? Okay.
Then, I go into the bathroom and open the shower door. I shed a lot of hair, and I have a special plastic drain cover to catch all the hair before it gets stuck in the drain. It's much easier to clean up that way.
Now, what happens next is totally my fault, but it's my shower and I'm entitled to freak out...I can see that someone used the shower, Eric, my 24 year old son. That's okay, his hair is shaved so how bad can it be? It's my hair, that he didn't bother to ask me to take out BEFORE he showered, so I'll just scoop it out....with my finger...bad idea!
The story here is that the shower doesn't really drain all that quickly. My husband says that's because the vent pipe is frozen. I think there's something else wrong, but what do I know. I'm just a woman. So I have to leave the shower to drain completely so I can clean my hair out. By the time I remember it's the next day, so I clean it out, the hair and shower is dry so even better for me.
Well, today, it's wet, but I have a strong stomach so I take my finger and start scooping hair. Oh, wait, what's this? IT'S NOT HAIR! Someone decided to clear out their sinuses in my shower that has a drain cover on it that won't allow hair through, let alone a loogie!! WHY, why on God's green earth would anyone think it's a good idea to spit that shit in a shower with virtually no where for it to GO???????
Okay, so there's a lot of colorful expletives and yelling going on. And the grand kids are curious as to what is going on. So after the chaos is over, I walk out of the bathroom and become tangled in about 35 feet of GREEN YARN!!
me: WHAT THE HELL IS THIS CRAP?!!! Did I, or did I not say to clean this up after yourselves.
7 year old: Yes you did, but we're not done with it.
me: Well, it looks to me like you're done since your sitting in the corner playing a game and not anywhere near the yarn, nor are you even touching it. Now clean it up!
7 year old: okay!
I dig puke covered pillowcases and towels out of the other shower and to the wash machine, wishing I could bleach them, but can't because the cases are bright blue and brand new. On the return trip from the wash machine I AGAIN become entangled in the yarn!!
What the hell, you're not touching this yarn therefore you're done with it now pick it up NOOOOOOWW!! Reply: OKAY! And someone shut off that damn Dora game, for the love of God, before I go insane. Reply: OKAY!
Why do I have to get out of control before anyone hears me? Is it really necessary for me to have to get mad around here? Well, at least the yarn is cleaned up and the game is turned down.
Now to clean up some pukey blankets.
Ah yes, here we go again....Welcome f-ing home!
My husband now works as an over the road trucker. It's a big change that we both have to try to get used to. Thanks to the economy, I'm sure there are many families out there who are making sacrifices also. So, when this decision of truck driving first came out, I was sad. But at least we'd be together every 3-5 days, so that won't be so bad, right? After all, he'd already been out of town for four weeks straight right before Thanksgiving, and we both survived. So we can do this too.
Well, as he's getting ready to leave, I realize I can't keep it in any longer. After all, some jackass is going to try to mug him, he'll get clubbed over the head with some pipe and be left for dead. He'll be mobbed, robbed and assaulted, and I'll never see him again, nor will anyone ever know what happened! Oh my god, he can't leave!! Deep breath, don't over exaggerate, everything will be fine. So just before he's getting read to leave, to show my confidence and support, I blurt out, "Maybe you should go buy a gun!"
NICE!! That'll make him feel better. Anything else you want to blurt out to boost his confidence and security? So, in return, to make me feel even better I hear "You know, I was thinking about that. I'm going to ask if I can bring a gun. But for now I'm bringing my knife."
Well sweet! So we're both thinking these hideous things and now neither one of us will get any sleep! My advantage is that I have a 100 pound dog to watch my back. And my husband is going to be completely alone, the man who can sleep through an earthquake! Good lord, he'd be killed before he even knew what was happening. *heavy sigh*
So, anyways, just this last week he gets the unexpected pleasure of coming home on a Tuesday night just this last week. Whoopee, we were both exhausted last weekend, and now is the perfect opportunity for me to break out the new nighties I secretly bought and we can get down to business!
So, I make him a big roast dinner. Definitely something he's not used to. I hate cooking these days, and rarely ever did. Now that he's gone I feel like I want to do these little things for him again.
We enjoy the meal, and are sitting at the table and he reaches over and grabs a letter. "Disconnection notice" from the power company. Oh hell, why did I leave that out. There are some things better left unseen by my husbands eyes: one is the mortgage payment coupon showing the total blood money due; and second is anything stating "final notice" or "disconnect". So naturally, he freaks out.
me: I paid the bill just last week. We just got that one, so it's OK, they just crossed in the mail.
him: are you sure. We don't need to come home and have the meter gone like before. (yes, I did it once before, I'm dumb, I admit it)
me: I just paid the damn thing, they crossed in the mail. I'm telling you.
him: I know you say you paid it, but maybe you just think you did. It's too cold to get the power shut off. And we don't have $100 to get it hooked back up. You need to make sure.
A fight ensues until I find the other portion of the bill. The portion where I write how much I paid with what check on what day. Does that make him happy? NOOOOO, he continues to nag and bitch and complain until finally I put my flannels on and go to bed pouting.
Thanks a lot you asshole! Now our night is ruined and we're both upset. And I haven't had sex in about 2 weeks. And since he's been gone, it seems like intimacy is the only thing that makes me feel like he cares. But who wants that now?
So, the week goes by, we talk on the phone, he's in a better mood, I'm still crabby. And he's coming home on Saturday. Well, this is the weekend all the grand kids are over, so there won't be a whole lot of intimacy going on, but at least we'll be able to enjoy each other's company.
Well, much to my surprise he walks in two hours early. And what are the first words out of his mouth? "Why the hell are both outside lights on, and how long have they been on? Don't you guys notice this stuff when you go outside? Why can't you pay attention to that stuff and shut those lights off. blah blah, blahbitty blah blah."
Are you fargin shitting me?? I haven't seen you for FIVE lousy days and the first thing out of your mouth is THIS? Well, needless to say, I blew. I let him have it. He made me feel like crap on Tuesday, and now he's doing it again!
Needless to say, the nightie is still in the closet....
Well, as he's getting ready to leave, I realize I can't keep it in any longer. After all, some jackass is going to try to mug him, he'll get clubbed over the head with some pipe and be left for dead. He'll be mobbed, robbed and assaulted, and I'll never see him again, nor will anyone ever know what happened! Oh my god, he can't leave!! Deep breath, don't over exaggerate, everything will be fine. So just before he's getting read to leave, to show my confidence and support, I blurt out, "Maybe you should go buy a gun!"
NICE!! That'll make him feel better. Anything else you want to blurt out to boost his confidence and security? So, in return, to make me feel even better I hear "You know, I was thinking about that. I'm going to ask if I can bring a gun. But for now I'm bringing my knife."
Well sweet! So we're both thinking these hideous things and now neither one of us will get any sleep! My advantage is that I have a 100 pound dog to watch my back. And my husband is going to be completely alone, the man who can sleep through an earthquake! Good lord, he'd be killed before he even knew what was happening. *heavy sigh*
So, anyways, just this last week he gets the unexpected pleasure of coming home on a Tuesday night just this last week. Whoopee, we were both exhausted last weekend, and now is the perfect opportunity for me to break out the new nighties I secretly bought and we can get down to business!
So, I make him a big roast dinner. Definitely something he's not used to. I hate cooking these days, and rarely ever did. Now that he's gone I feel like I want to do these little things for him again.
We enjoy the meal, and are sitting at the table and he reaches over and grabs a letter. "Disconnection notice" from the power company. Oh hell, why did I leave that out. There are some things better left unseen by my husbands eyes: one is the mortgage payment coupon showing the total blood money due; and second is anything stating "final notice" or "disconnect". So naturally, he freaks out.
me: I paid the bill just last week. We just got that one, so it's OK, they just crossed in the mail.
him: are you sure. We don't need to come home and have the meter gone like before. (yes, I did it once before, I'm dumb, I admit it)
me: I just paid the damn thing, they crossed in the mail. I'm telling you.
him: I know you say you paid it, but maybe you just think you did. It's too cold to get the power shut off. And we don't have $100 to get it hooked back up. You need to make sure.
A fight ensues until I find the other portion of the bill. The portion where I write how much I paid with what check on what day. Does that make him happy? NOOOOO, he continues to nag and bitch and complain until finally I put my flannels on and go to bed pouting.
Thanks a lot you asshole! Now our night is ruined and we're both upset. And I haven't had sex in about 2 weeks. And since he's been gone, it seems like intimacy is the only thing that makes me feel like he cares. But who wants that now?
So, the week goes by, we talk on the phone, he's in a better mood, I'm still crabby. And he's coming home on Saturday. Well, this is the weekend all the grand kids are over, so there won't be a whole lot of intimacy going on, but at least we'll be able to enjoy each other's company.
Well, much to my surprise he walks in two hours early. And what are the first words out of his mouth? "Why the hell are both outside lights on, and how long have they been on? Don't you guys notice this stuff when you go outside? Why can't you pay attention to that stuff and shut those lights off. blah blah, blahbitty blah blah."
Are you fargin shitting me?? I haven't seen you for FIVE lousy days and the first thing out of your mouth is THIS? Well, needless to say, I blew. I let him have it. He made me feel like crap on Tuesday, and now he's doing it again!
Needless to say, the nightie is still in the closet....
Friday, February 22, 2008
Thank God it's Friday! So why am I not happy?
Yeah, Friday, no work tomorrow. But my Friday work is not over. I'm 44, my kids have grown. Yet I'm in a custody battle that will never END!! I want my Grand Daughter, and her mother is a complete idiot. So this is a typical Friday night pick up.....
I call early in the week, we make arrangements, yet on Friday afternoon she's NEVER there when I get there. It's been years now that we've been doing this, how hard can it possibly be?! I try so hard to make sure she understands when I'm going to be there and that, hey, just call me if anything changes. Oh, not my Grand Daughter, she knows more of what's going on and she's only 3.
So every other week we play the ritual "phone tag" game. I call and ask...oh yeah come get her Friday...I show up and, wait for it.......NO ONE IS THERE.
(Pause as tension builds) Oh, but wait, I have a date with my Dad for my birthday dinner. I have to get going, but Natalea knows she's coming over and I don't want to make her sad so I sit in the parking lot making calls.
10 minutes later, "oh, yeah, I'm at my mom's. I forgot to leave you a note." A note? How about an f-ing phone call you inconsiderate little bitch??
So, after dinner I rush over to pick up my Grand Daughter, and I'm NOT happy! This is it. It's been two years now and I can't take this anymore.
me: Every time I drive all the way to the other end of town to pick up Natalea you're not home. You never even bother to call me and tell me. And today you made me late for dinner with my Dad!
Bitch: Oh, yeah, I forgot to leave you a note.
Me: A note? You could call so I don't have to waste the gas (at $3 1/2 a gallon) and 10 minutes driving time only to find out your not.
Her Mom: Oh, she's such a brat.
Me: (inner monologue -spelt b-i-t-c-h) I don't appreciate it. And next time I'm not going to wait for you.
Because I have. I waited 2 hours one night. Wasn't happy. If I had a voodoo doll, her hair would be all over it. And there wouldn't be a bare spot on it. It would look like an overused pin cushion! And then, when she makes me really mad, I'll give it to the dog to chew on. Yeah, that'll show her. And then I'll light the hair on fire. Oh yeah, that would be awesome. So the next time I see her I could ask "What's wrong, dear? Oh, I'm so sorry. Your hair looks a little...do I smell smoke?" Mew ah ha ha (insert evil laugh here)
So has anything changed? Yes and no. For today we've already made arrangements for me to be to her house at 4:30. About 4:25 I get a call. She's not home, what a surprise, I never would have expected! Blah blah blah, when the hell are you going to be home? My son is on his way he'll meet you there. Blah blah blah. Yep, I've given up, my son's going to have to deal with most of this now.
I know he's a little worried that she'll beat him up again, and then have him thrown in jail for domestic abuse, like she did once before. Seriously! I'm just glad he decided he really doesn't like prison! But come on, I may beat her senseless!! And then I'll be in jail for a legitimate reason. And I don't think my grand daughter would be too happy with me.
So I patiently put up with her crap. And I am NOT a patient woman, trust me!!
I call early in the week, we make arrangements, yet on Friday afternoon she's NEVER there when I get there. It's been years now that we've been doing this, how hard can it possibly be?! I try so hard to make sure she understands when I'm going to be there and that, hey, just call me if anything changes. Oh, not my Grand Daughter, she knows more of what's going on and she's only 3.
So every other week we play the ritual "phone tag" game. I call and ask...oh yeah come get her Friday...I show up and, wait for it.......NO ONE IS THERE.
(Pause as tension builds) Oh, but wait, I have a date with my Dad for my birthday dinner. I have to get going, but Natalea knows she's coming over and I don't want to make her sad so I sit in the parking lot making calls.
10 minutes later, "oh, yeah, I'm at my mom's. I forgot to leave you a note." A note? How about an f-ing phone call you inconsiderate little bitch??
So, after dinner I rush over to pick up my Grand Daughter, and I'm NOT happy! This is it. It's been two years now and I can't take this anymore.
me: Every time I drive all the way to the other end of town to pick up Natalea you're not home. You never even bother to call me and tell me. And today you made me late for dinner with my Dad!
Bitch: Oh, yeah, I forgot to leave you a note.
Me: A note? You could call so I don't have to waste the gas (at $3 1/2 a gallon) and 10 minutes driving time only to find out your not.
Her Mom: Oh, she's such a brat.
Me: (inner monologue -spelt b-i-t-c-h) I don't appreciate it. And next time I'm not going to wait for you.
Because I have. I waited 2 hours one night. Wasn't happy. If I had a voodoo doll, her hair would be all over it. And there wouldn't be a bare spot on it. It would look like an overused pin cushion! And then, when she makes me really mad, I'll give it to the dog to chew on. Yeah, that'll show her. And then I'll light the hair on fire. Oh yeah, that would be awesome. So the next time I see her I could ask "What's wrong, dear? Oh, I'm so sorry. Your hair looks a little...do I smell smoke?" Mew ah ha ha (insert evil laugh here)
So has anything changed? Yes and no. For today we've already made arrangements for me to be to her house at 4:30. About 4:25 I get a call. She's not home, what a surprise, I never would have expected! Blah blah blah, when the hell are you going to be home? My son is on his way he'll meet you there. Blah blah blah. Yep, I've given up, my son's going to have to deal with most of this now.
I know he's a little worried that she'll beat him up again, and then have him thrown in jail for domestic abuse, like she did once before. Seriously! I'm just glad he decided he really doesn't like prison! But come on, I may beat her senseless!! And then I'll be in jail for a legitimate reason. And I don't think my grand daughter would be too happy with me.
So I patiently put up with her crap. And I am NOT a patient woman, trust me!!
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Mad wife, or just mad?
Yeah, that's right. I'm mad! Why? Well, let me tell you all about it....
I was originally going to share witty anecdotes of my marriage with others who would be able to see the humor in a marriage. But this morning I decided that my best course of action was to let it all out.
I mean, after that cigarette bounced off my windshield this morning, and I was really wishing I could get away with running that ass off the road, I thought to myself..."there's more to complain about than my husband." The guy tossing his smoke at my face is some one's husband, and she probably hates him as much as I do right now. So why not vent and see who else can empathize with me. I know you're out there!!
Just yesterday I thanked a group of people on my Etsy forum for listening to me complain. I felt great afterwords. I'm sure they had better things to do, but we understand each other and doggone it, it feels good to get it off your chest! So...
Now, let's go back to my earlier complaint about cigarette-flinging butt heads driving old decrepit dented vehicles. Heaven forbid they put that garbage in their ashtray! I have a better idea, let's toss the crap out onto the street for birds and animals to eat! Yeah, that's a great idea because no one cares about the environment, or my windshield. Hell, let's just blow my damn car up and really make my day!!
Now, I know my car's not going to blow up. But what if, what IF i had a gas leak? And what if I'd gotten gas on my windshield. Yeah, the gas was squirting all over the front of my car, let's just say. And along comes this nice glowing TORCH, right at me. Poof...flames, another one bites the dust.
So again, I'll ask WHY are you tossing that lit cigarette from your car window when you could KILL someone?? *sigh*
I was originally going to share witty anecdotes of my marriage with others who would be able to see the humor in a marriage. But this morning I decided that my best course of action was to let it all out.
I mean, after that cigarette bounced off my windshield this morning, and I was really wishing I could get away with running that ass off the road, I thought to myself..."there's more to complain about than my husband." The guy tossing his smoke at my face is some one's husband, and she probably hates him as much as I do right now. So why not vent and see who else can empathize with me. I know you're out there!!
Just yesterday I thanked a group of people on my Etsy forum for listening to me complain. I felt great afterwords. I'm sure they had better things to do, but we understand each other and doggone it, it feels good to get it off your chest! So...
Now, let's go back to my earlier complaint about cigarette-flinging butt heads driving old decrepit dented vehicles. Heaven forbid they put that garbage in their ashtray! I have a better idea, let's toss the crap out onto the street for birds and animals to eat! Yeah, that's a great idea because no one cares about the environment, or my windshield. Hell, let's just blow my damn car up and really make my day!!
Now, I know my car's not going to blow up. But what if, what IF i had a gas leak? And what if I'd gotten gas on my windshield. Yeah, the gas was squirting all over the front of my car, let's just say. And along comes this nice glowing TORCH, right at me. Poof...flames, another one bites the dust.
So again, I'll ask WHY are you tossing that lit cigarette from your car window when you could KILL someone?? *sigh*
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