So, I am clearing off bookshelves and getting rid of some old books that I haven’t re-read in years. In my book of 100 Hair Raising Little Horror Stories I found a copy of my 2002 wedding invitation [divorce was final is 2012]. Why on earth would I have put that there? If my life were a novel that would have been called ‘foreshadowing'; today it is just a lot of funny with a slight tinge of sad that my subconcious was apparently screeching at me to get out a lot sooner than I thought–100 Hair Raising Little Horror Stories indeed.
Remember to listen to yourself.
Okay, back to the cleaning.
So, it turns out that the perfect storm of “too much” is as follows:
1. Over scheduled myself at work and ended up doing about an 80 hour workweek.
2. That workweek ended with a training that felt rather flat when I gave it and turned out not to be what the client wanted. Yes, they should have given me more than “general safety stuff” as a guideline, but I still felt horribly shitty about it.
3. The damn power was out on the whole island for about 14 hours on Saturday effectively stealing my ability to get anything done.
4. Sunday was not a fun day.
5. Upcoming week is more over scheduled than last week.
So all of that (of which I am aware can be looked at in a positive way – yes, I am blessed to have a job, I am incredibly lucky to live with electricity most of the time, I got to enjoy reading on Saturday, etc. I’m just whining) has led me to not wanting to get out of bed this morning.
Pillows – good!
Sheets – good!
Snuggly puppies – good!
Up and out? No good.
Snooze? Yes, please.
Wish me luck at the up and out part later please….
Good afternoon everyone,
today I need to share my frustration with the world of painful safety acronyms – you’ve seen them, those annoying safety signs that have tortured a word into a “meaningful” phrase….Gods all help me, these damn things irritate the crap out of me.
Here are two randomly pulled from the internet to get you into my mindset:
- How do you spell Safety? Safety Means Always Remember Teamwork
are you f’ing kidding me? I’m pretty sure you spelled safety wrong and *starts kicking things out of annoyance*
- Safety, a culture to live by: Communication Urge Leadership Teamwork Understanding Recognition Empowerment
just…..no. stop it. stop making words say shit that sort of means something kind of they way you want to say it. just….no.
No-one in existence has said, “damn, we were just one good slogan away from being safe”. I have denied being in the business of Safety for years because of shit like this – how can you be a professional in a business that seems to excel at making themselves look ridiculous???
so anyway, here I am prepping crap for work and there is one of my loathed acronyms – SHARP. That’s right, Safety and Health Achievement Recognition Program (nope, didn’t torture themselves to make that word work…). Okay, things are going along normally until halfway through the report when I stumble upon a new initialism (aka first letter of each word that doesn’t actually spell anything), NCSP, which stands for National Construction SHARP Pilot. Realizing that they are using an acronym IN the initialism immediately broke my brain causing my vision to go a bit wonky and make my left eye twitch.
I’m making tea now.
Have a lovely day,
ya know, for a monday, there is a ridiculous amount of work in my work today. Things to do, frustrations to fuss about, passive aggressive emails to send, and surprisingly – a completely inane posting at lunchtime.
I attempted to go on a movie date twice this holiday weekend, I say attempt because the sheer volume of people waiting to get tickets to the newest fast n furious (why? why is there so much fury when they get to go so fast?) movie caused us both to pause and say, “nope…to many people”. But we tried and that TOTALLY counts, right?
It was also the weekend of random weird shit, my favorite of which was a tree frog falling out of the tree and landing on the windshield of the car. I was full of the squee! and the wonder while the boyfriend was full of the holy shit, a fucking frog just fell on the car! At his decidedly squicked out face I proceeded to grab the poor startled baseball sized froggie and put him back into the trees.
ooh, my sandwich is here!
Dear Newton, I need an external force please.
When my mother visited she had a few ‘intervention-like’ conversations with me. One of the most memorable was the, “I’m worried because you have only two speeds: all go, and all stop”. It was memorable because all I could think was, “yep, that’s me”.
Lately though I have been more all stop, no go and I fear I am going to merge with the furniture.
So, get ready for the rambling…I am going to a new doctor. One of those, how do you say, ‘real doctors’. Yes, yes…I currently have a doctor. I even presume he went to medical school and everything. Let’s just say that he is better at colds and boo-boos than he is at chonic disease management. This hasn’t really been a problem because *I* am pretty good at chronic disease management – but maybe I need some checks and balances rather than the, “wonder what this will do shot-gun approach” currently being used.
Ugh. The stress of going to a new doctor. *blink* I dislike it. It doesn’t help that the last ‘new’ doctor I ended up meeting looked at my medical records and suggested that we stop everything and ‘see what happens’.
Well, lady….based on my reading–seizures and potential death if we don’t step down that one. Extremely high blood sugars and organ/extremity damage if we stop those two. Hair loss, exhaustion, temperature intolerance, and weight gain if we stop that one. But sure, let’s give that a whirl since you aren’t ‘familiar’ with that medicine and are afraid of the internet and your medicine book from the 80s doesn’t have it in there. Okay, so yes that crazy lady was a textbook example of a BAD doctor almost on par to the one time I went to a therapist (back in the day trying to figure out what to do about my then marriage) who gave me the following advice, “you should have a baby, that’ll calm you down.” I replied with much blinking to the woman, fixed her phone, and never went back.
So, you can see why going to this new doctor fills me with a small amount of….trepidation. I have to print out my glucose/insulin logs, medication logs, bloodwork, medical history and hope this woman and I mesh well. Wish me luck!
actually, the majority of the time is isn’t easy being in my head. anywhoodle, it is sunday and I am currently greatly enjoying a new fancy bluetooth keyboard which switches between my phone and my tablet with a little knob. I got this keyboard as a gift under the theory that the keyboard would allow me to write more…so, this is me, writing.
The boyfriend is at the beach and he just texted me that two people we know just got in a fistfight. I have learned a few things as an adult – one of the most important things I have learned is that fist fights are not impressive. The just aren’t. I grew up learning karate from a young age and my mother was *very* into the whole culture of it. Sparring is awesome; exhausting, educational, and occasionally painful – but awesomely fun.
Those people who just lash out in anger at someone else – it’s just sad because either one person *is* good at fighting and they really hurt someone behaving like a pathetic bully OR, more likely, they are both just pathetic at fighting and just look lame.
It just isn’t worth it.
So, boyfriend sends me a text about this fight and that it is bloody and the cops have been called, etc. So, now my brain goes into….well, fuck, anyone think to give the dude an ice pack? Anyone doing anything close to first aid down there? and okay, who is cleaning up the blood? Cause I know that tiny-ass hotel does not have a bloodborne pathogen training policy. So, you see? See how a lame little bit of drama takes me right into first responder/work?
I can tell you that I am rather in love with this keyboard though!
Have a good Sunday folks, and remember – if you are an out of shape older dude wearing a bathing suit–don’t get into a fight, it’s just not a good idea.