Alternate Title: Things I Am Cranky About.
- I'm going back on prednisone, just in time for summer, when you want to look your best. Poor Mr. PW will have to deal with a manic, irritable, freak who eats everything in sight for a while.
- Got swept up immediately in work this morning and forgot to call aforementioned husband to wake him up - and this after he took good care of me when I was sick last night. He's got a student veterans conference from today through Sunday. Luckily he woke up in time to get himself there but I feel like an ass.
- I have been listening to recordings of meetings and transcribing notes for two days now. This is exceptionally dull, but what pisses me off is I'm sitting at my desk, big document open, typing away, headphones in my ears, and people will just walk up to me and start talking! And then after I shout "wait! wait! wait!", pause the recording, and pull the headphones off my ears, they laugh and say "oh, were you listening to something?" And then I punch them in the face.
- While we're on the subject of coworkers, who the hell decided that it's okay to make comments about my appearance to my face? Did you really just tell me I'm not as puffy as I used to be?* That I've lost weight? That I've gained weight? That I'm limping? NO SHIT. I'm aware I'm limping, jackass. Why is none of your business. Yes, before you write the angry letters, I'm aware that people are trying to be concerned and friendly. I just don't need them pointing out how miserable I am. I am aware every moment.
- Also? Other bloggers? While you're fawning constantly over Anthropologie and BHLDN, be aware that they're owned by a rabidly anti-gay nutcase who gives as much money as possible to deeply homophobic, anti-women's rights, anti-gay rights, anti-progress politicians. Two words and a number for you: $13,150. Rick Santorum. If you're okay with that, go ahead and fawn and spend your money. But if that bothers you as deeply as it bothers me, stop giving them the free press. Their stuff is gorgeous but their ethics are unacceptable.
- We have to put Sammycat on kitty Paxil. He's started hissing at everyone and last night we were cuddling and he started growling at me. Combine that with the loss of Kitten in December, the obsessive licking-off of all his belly hair, and it's time for a kitty reboot. Which will cost money.
- On that note, money problems suck, and that's all I'm going to say about that.
Now. If I have any readers left after that nastiness I'll be frankly surprised.
*yes, my boss actually told me, "Oh, you're not as puffy as you used to be." And then followed it with "You're still pasty. But you're not as puffy."