Valentine's Day
It's Valentine's Day. I'm happy that I've always hated it so I don't have to be sad today. In a relationship, NOT in a relationship, whatever. Hate it.
And it predates the whole boyfriend-dying-on-valentine's-day thing, which, admittedly has colored the day MORE, maybe. But I've hated it since elementary school when kids who were forced to give Valentines to everyone made it abundantly clear that that's the only reason I got one.
Ooooo, that sounded pathetic. Really, I just think it's a bunch of bunk hype to make people buy ridiculous gifts and commercializes love. So... (my point is) it sucks.
No, I'm not bitter. I just sound that way.
I was in Columbia this weekend for one day (that's why I didn't try to get together, Jim) for my dad's birthday. My brother-in-law had a big health scare last week, so I wanted to check on my sister and nephews, too. They haven't figured out what's wrong with my BIL, exactly, but for now it's enough to seriously curtail his life. I think that loss of freedom is going to hit him really hard if it turns out to be a long-term problem. I feel really bad for them.
There was a third reason for the visit: my younger sister is coming to visit in a few weeks, and will kindly load her truck up with crap I want from the family. So I had to visit Nanny's and figure out exactly what I'm going to steal from her. I did find the old bar stools I wanted and they're fabulous. I remember them from Nanny's since I was little, which is what makes 'em so sweet. Packed those puppies UP. And they look good.
I'm going to H's tonight to check on him and Eepie. Eepie's not doing any better in the peeing/pooping department, which worries the hell out of me. Of course, H's dad (who is STILL here) thinks I gave H the defective cat. I can see why he would think that, actually, since she's the one of the four cats with the explosive diarrhea and behavioral-bed-pissing. I keep telling H to have patience with her as she has to get through the stress of moving and being with his dad all day, but I know that's hard when you have a pet who is systematically destroying your belongings and probably your psyche. It's not a great thing to wake up with a cat pissing on you, which she's now done to both of us. Of course, H is dealing with frequency of pissing, while I had the experience of having my head peed on, which is, as you may be able to imagine, especially disgusting and a really lovely way of waking up.
I'm not talking too much about work. It's because my boss has pissed me the hell off, and I am trying to stay out of his way until I can get over being so damn mad. It's a really long story, but let me just say that I am really glad that I didn't tell him off like I wanted to this past Friday. I was so mad I would have cried or said something I'd regret, so yay me. Finally learned how to keep my damn mouth shut. I left work yesterday with cramps (for real: I felt like hot buttered ass) so I didn't have to see him, and he's out today. So yesterday will be the first time I've had to deal with him since IT happened, so I hope five days will be enough that I can talk to him about it in a reasoned thoughtful manner instead of bitching him out like I (really REALLY) want to.
(It's partially my fault. I said to G last week how smoothly the design for this project was going. I forgot a cardinal rule of design: don't fucking say stuff like that until the damn job is printed — and delivered. Damn client, but *much* more, damn my boss for treating me like the problem instead of the solution. And for taking over my fucking project. And for looking so SMUG while doing it.)
Wow, it's already 4:20. Fabulous.
And it predates the whole boyfriend-dying-on-valentine's-day thing, which, admittedly has colored the day MORE, maybe. But I've hated it since elementary school when kids who were forced to give Valentines to everyone made it abundantly clear that that's the only reason I got one.
Ooooo, that sounded pathetic. Really, I just think it's a bunch of bunk hype to make people buy ridiculous gifts and commercializes love. So... (my point is) it sucks.
No, I'm not bitter. I just sound that way.
I was in Columbia this weekend for one day (that's why I didn't try to get together, Jim) for my dad's birthday. My brother-in-law had a big health scare last week, so I wanted to check on my sister and nephews, too. They haven't figured out what's wrong with my BIL, exactly, but for now it's enough to seriously curtail his life. I think that loss of freedom is going to hit him really hard if it turns out to be a long-term problem. I feel really bad for them.
There was a third reason for the visit: my younger sister is coming to visit in a few weeks, and will kindly load her truck up with crap I want from the family. So I had to visit Nanny's and figure out exactly what I'm going to steal from her. I did find the old bar stools I wanted and they're fabulous. I remember them from Nanny's since I was little, which is what makes 'em so sweet. Packed those puppies UP. And they look good.
I'm going to H's tonight to check on him and Eepie. Eepie's not doing any better in the peeing/pooping department, which worries the hell out of me. Of course, H's dad (who is STILL here) thinks I gave H the defective cat. I can see why he would think that, actually, since she's the one of the four cats with the explosive diarrhea and behavioral-bed-pissing. I keep telling H to have patience with her as she has to get through the stress of moving and being with his dad all day, but I know that's hard when you have a pet who is systematically destroying your belongings and probably your psyche. It's not a great thing to wake up with a cat pissing on you, which she's now done to both of us. Of course, H is dealing with frequency of pissing, while I had the experience of having my head peed on, which is, as you may be able to imagine, especially disgusting and a really lovely way of waking up.
I'm not talking too much about work. It's because my boss has pissed me the hell off, and I am trying to stay out of his way until I can get over being so damn mad. It's a really long story, but let me just say that I am really glad that I didn't tell him off like I wanted to this past Friday. I was so mad I would have cried or said something I'd regret, so yay me. Finally learned how to keep my damn mouth shut. I left work yesterday with cramps (for real: I felt like hot buttered ass) so I didn't have to see him, and he's out today. So yesterday will be the first time I've had to deal with him since IT happened, so I hope five days will be enough that I can talk to him about it in a reasoned thoughtful manner instead of bitching him out like I (really REALLY) want to.
(It's partially my fault. I said to G last week how smoothly the design for this project was going. I forgot a cardinal rule of design: don't fucking say stuff like that until the damn job is printed — and delivered. Damn client, but *much* more, damn my boss for treating me like the problem instead of the solution. And for taking over my fucking project. And for looking so SMUG while doing it.)
Wow, it's already 4:20. Fabulous.
posted by reallymadcow at 12:58 PM
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