Bright, sunshiny day

I've been busy. Really busy. My daughter started kindergarten a couple of weeks ago and I proceeded to be completely devastated and very proud. My son started 4th grade and I felt the same. Amazing how sad it is to watch kids grow up successfully.

After dropping them off, I cried my way to the airport to fly to Minneapolis (yay, pharmacy transactions!) to set industry standards for next year and talk to the government. The government stood us up, but we got decisions made for next year without them, so go us.

My husband managed to get hand, foot and mouth disease and then bronchitis, so I've been a single mom for the past two weeks. I have no idea how single moms do it without going stark, raving mad. And I discovered twitter and instagram, which are probably both very bad ideas, because people can not only "enjoy" my sarcastic bitterness on my blog, they can also enjoy it now on another source, and more frequently.

So that's what I've been doing. I was planning to writing a bunch of other crap, but I read the news about the shootings in Virginia. After the shootings here in St. Louis, then the additional gun violence throughout the country, I just don't see how people can justify NOT putting in place gun control laws. And it makes me numb and sad and exhausted to see all the senseless acts of violence that are made just that much easier by putting guns in the hands of people who shouldn't have them.

The Liquid Lunch

It's not what you think, honest. I'm drinking a big-ass smoothie today for lunch because I've been talking non-stop and the only time I can get to consume anything is if I drink it. Luckily I had an absolutely enormous breakfast, but I still want to punch someone. I wish this had vodka in it. Or crushed Xanax.

Dream a little dream...

I clearly need more sleep. How do I know? Well, I'll tell you. Last night's dreams featured:

1. My daughter creating a new name for me: Carne Asada Thundershak (misspelling hers)

2. I decided to go sledding on an inner tube attached to the back of a car

3. John Lennon smoked pot in my basement and stole all my Cheetos.

 That last one pisses me off the most, by the way. I love a good Cheeto. Anyway, back to work. It's 2 p.m. and I've been working since 6 a.m. I shouldn't complain (but that hasn't stopped me yet).

I've gotta say thank you

I always wonder how many of the "entities" that read my blog are bots or people. Those who fall into the latter category always surprise me. So whether you're a friend or stranger, thanks for reading my drivel. I get that most of it is stream-of-consciousness writing and really has no actual content, which makes me all the more appreciative that I have click activity at all (and which is probably why I imagine, though don't know, that most people quickly click away).

So, whether you're searching for panties under sundresses (my most common search term, followed by Benedict Cumberbatch and heat rash (love, love, love the combination by the way)) or just looking for random entertainment during downtime, I've gotta say thanks for reading.

That said, I'm going to give you my top 10 annoyances and aggravations of the day (I've been saving them just for you!):

10. It was too damn early when I got up. That's my fault, but still...who the hell invented 5 a.m.?

9. My bum hurts. What? I went running last night and did intervals on hills. I'm sure the neighbors found it hilarious, but I take my butthurt very seriously, as should we all.

8. I don't want to talk to anyone, but my meetings started at 7 a.m. and don't end until 4. I'm on one right now, but I'm not actually important to its continuance, which makes the fact that I am supposed to be on it all the more annoying.

7. I'm turning into a sarcastic cow. Actually, I've always been a sarcastic cow. Nevermind - this isn't a problem. I like being a sarcastic cow.

6. I'm experiencing a complete lack of motivation. But at least I'm motivated enough to be annoyed by it, right?

5. I just got a new piece of legislation last night that makes my job ten times more complicated. That should be a good thing - I love a good challenge and it's job security - but see #6.

4. Jon Stewart will soon be leaving The Daily Show and no one can do the news (or satire of said news) as well as he can.

3. I don't have enough time to think, but when I do, I daydream instead.

2. People who don't use their signals irritate the living hell out of me. Hovering next to me and glaring at me (when I'm not paying attention to you because I'm driving) is not likely to have as much of an impact as a signal to tell me you want to change lanes, you leech-infested git (let's see that as a search term!).

1. I've run out of minor aggravations and annoyances. It was way harder than I expected to create this list. I always think I'm vastly annoyed, but apparently I was wrong. I've got some pretty major concerns, but they're too big to go into here.

Adventures in product management

I think I need a mental health day. And I'm not saying that facetiously. Today I have had:

1. Two people call me to reassure me they're not dead (happens with distressing frequency)

2. Three different people yell at me for mistakes they made (assertiveness training?)

3. One person call me in tears because she got overwhelmed (I kind of want to tear my hair out, too)

4. Notification that we're reorganizing again (are you serious? individuals in my department have had job stability for an average of 4 weeks at a time - the contractors who do not work here full time have more stability than we do)

5. I also have 25 meetings scheduled for today and 8 hours in which to attend them; looking at my schedule, finding time to pee will be a challenge, much less eat anything or do actual work.

6. I've also had someone notify me that they accidentally approved code that was the direct opposite of what I requested.

I want to injure someone. First world problems, though - first world problems. I still hate everything.

slice my fingertip off once, shame on you

Slice off a second one and that's totally my fault.

See, I thought my ring finger on my right hand was looking a little longish so I fixed it. With a mandolin slicer (not the instrument), while I happened to be slicing a radish. Kill two birds, right?? Yeah, that's it.

Ow, ow, ow.

More proof my children are plotting my demise

A conversation between two kids, aka, my children plot my demise before a baseball game:

Evelyn throws her arms around my neck and whispers, "Mommy, I love you so much that when you and daddy die and the sun devours the earth, I'll take you with me in a box to another planet."

I say, "Oh, God, really? I mean, I love you, too. You're sweet and creepy. But mostly sweet." (Note to self: don't call your daughter creepy.)

Rags, disgusted, comes back with "Evelyn, you can't do that! You can't carry mom and dad around in a box!"

Stupidly, I breathe a sign of relief until he says, "They're too heavy. You'll have to rent a truck or put wheels on the box or something. Come here, I'll show you. Mom, can I measure you?"

My response? "I'm going into the kitchen. I'm sure there's something I'm supposed to be doing there."

Fin

Burned - also known as "learning to wear sunscreen the hard way"

Back to my normal, mundane irritations. Today I hurt like hell.

Yesterday I worked out at the Y for about an hour and a half, doing substantial amounts of cardio and increasing my weight load, which is always bound to hurt. Still - yay! I'm stronger!

Then I took the kids to the pool to meet up with a few of their friends and one of the moms, who I'm friends with. And, like an idiot, I forgot my sunscreen before taking my children to the pool. Keep in mind, my kids do not burn. It doesn't matter whether or not they wear sunscreen (though I make them anyway to avoid skin cancer and guilt) - since they were babies, I've never seen them develop even so much as a light blush across the bridge of their noses, whether we were at the beach in stinging hot sun or not. I, on the other hand, do not have the beautiful, rich tawny and latte skin they inherited - the best of both me and their father. Instead, I'm "blessed" with pinkish cream-colored, freckle-prone skin.

We were at the pool for almost three hours. As a result, last night I was so crispy I was feverish by bedtime. The fever seems to have gone away this morning, but my skin hurts today. It stings even when I don't move. That, combined with normal muscle soreness (which will be way worse tomorrow - usually takes me 48 hours to really hurt), has resulted in the consumption of lots of ibuprofen with my coffee.

But there are two bright sides to this stupidity: one, this will fade to a tan, a pretty decent one. Two, while we were at the pool, my daughter taught herself to swim without help! She has now earned her snorkel. That's what I use to bribe my kids to learn how to swim alone. Normally I refuse to bribe, but if it gives them incentive to either a) learn something scary that will ensure their future safety (learning to swim is not optional) or b) finally learn a difficult task that is developmentally appropriate (limited to potty training), I'm all about it.

Anyway, off to attempt a shower. Glad I took all that ibuprofen because I will surely need it.

Just another crazy week in the news

Sometimes I hate everything. This week is a good example. It seems like when everything goes to shit, it does so in spectacular fashion. Anyway, enough about work...

Two things:

1. Flipping devastating news in Charleston. First of all, I am not big on organized religion, but I still hold things that others hold sacred as sacred or at least worthy of respect. Second, race. It's a huge problem in this country. Not that people are other races - that's beautiful. But that people hate other races just for being.

I'm in an interracial marriage. I don't often think of it that way, but I am. My husband and I come from vastly different backgrounds and cultures. As my kids often point out, he's brown and I'm pink. Had my children been in that church, had my husband been in that church, would they have deserved to die just because of their brown-ness? Of course not. It's hard to imagine what the hell was going on in that kid's mind and how he became so poisoned. And it's hard to imagine how one half of the country or at least the talking heads that represent that half can sweep that aside. Race is an issue in this country. It never went away. If we don't talk about it as a problem, it will never be solved.

2. Climate change from the Pope. I cannot tell you how happy I am that a Pontiff would recognize the devastation that is climate change. We all contribute - I do. You do. And I cannot tell you how disappointed I am that people are decrying recognizing science as "political." There's nothing political about accepting fact.

Data is put before you. You analyze the data. It proves X, therefore X must be a valid point. If X hurts us all, we should do something about it. Simple, but not easy, but there nonetheless. Again, if we don't talk about it as a real problem, we will never be able to stop it or, in this case, make it less bad. Because at this point, that's really all we can do.

Ok. Off my soapbox and back to the absolute and complete circus that is my work. Sometimes I just want to walk out that door. Other times I'm energized by the spiderweb of challenges set before me. Anyway you look at it, Medicare is hard and many people are jackasses for whatever reason.

Tell me lies, sweet little lies

Work is aggravating the bejeezus out of me. I've been in back to back meetings since 7 a.m. and it is now 4 p.m. I still have another couple of hours of work ahead of me, but luckily I can do it while my children sleep. In the meantime, I've been able to stand up only long enough to pee (you're welcome).

Anyway, to entertain myself when I'm not speaking or thinking I started thinking of all the nice things we say to each other when we don't always mean it.

Here are a few:

To my husband: "Your beet root, broccoli, kale and pineapple smoothie is delicious!" (Urp.)

To my son: "Those shoes make you go way faster." (You're too fast as it is.)

To my daughter: "I just don't want the roly-poly bugs in your bed because they're happier outside. They should be with their families." (OMG, bugs in the bed - bugs in the bed!!)

To my mom: "I think Meghan Trainor's song All About that Bass is adorable, too." (at least the version used in the diaper commercial is)

Anyway, that's all I've got. My brain feels like it's turning to mush inside my skull and will shortly run out my ears. Another delightful visual. And something heavy (hopefully a branch and not a dead squirrel, badger or other rodent-like animal (I like to say badger, though realize having one fall on my house is unlikely)) just fell on top of the roof. So I should probably go make sure it's all intact.