I'm having one of those weeks where I really, really wish I didn't have to talk to anyone ever. I mean, I normally loathe speaking to people who are not my friends and family outside of work. Even during work, I hate to talk to people, but I'm required to do so to get money.
Anyway, for some inexplicable reason it's worse than usual, particularly today. I think it's a matter of having expectations that are just too high. In other words, it's too much to expect that:
1. If I have no meetings, it will stay that way. It's 12:39. I'm on a meeting now, waiting for it to end because I'm really damn hungry and about to stab someone. I was so excited because my 1 o'clock meeting is one that I don't actually have to pay attention to, so I was thiiiiis close to having my soup. And then...someone more important than me schedules a meeting for me and a small group of people that is mandatory and on which I will be obligated to speak. Well, fuckbuckets. I think it's time to invest in an IV and a catheter (and yes, sometimes I don't even have time to pee).
2. My kids will not argue. They seem to reserve arguing for when I super duper don't want to talk. Most people's lives in general are filled with noise, chatter, clatter that you have to tune out just to focus on what you're doing right now. One could argue that I should ignore them, too. But that becomes impossible when I know what's coming. [cue JAWS music] "Moooommy, Ragsy called me crazy!" "I did NOT. I said don't be crazy." "He did it again!" "No I didn't!" and so on until I want to slap someone silly to prevent my children from slapping each other.
3. My husband will not have a midlife crisis or want to talk about "something very concerning," like the fact that surely my son will wind up friendless and failing out of school if he keeps wearing his hat, day in and day out. Seriously, man, chill out. I love you. I love our kids. Their lives will NOT be ruined if they have bad posture - no lecture required. Tickling his back to get him back up straight will do nicely.
4. The government will not send out new legislation that will require that I completely scrap my current project requirements to develop new ones. I've been working on this for more than a year, dammit. Are you freaking serious?
5. Someone will let me hide, just for a while. Not. Gonna. Happen.
So, now I know what I'm going to do today. I'm going to find a bridge and crawl under there with a novel, maybe my laptop (my personal laptop, not my work laptop), some earplugs and a pillow. And possibly a giant pile of cookies. You can come, too. But keep very, very quiet. I'll be the new troll in the Billy Goats Gruff.
Wednesday, May 20, 2015
Wednesday, May 13, 2015
Move along - nothing to see here
Seriously, I'm dead boring this week. Which is a good thing. Because I must say, I'm tired of the end-of-year crap, the Mother's Day crap and people being sick. This is one thing about Mother's Day: I love being appreciated. In fact, you could say I very much appreciate it. However, I feel most appreciated when I'm appreciated on my time. In other words, being appreciated at 10 a.m. on a weekday when I have to specifically ask time off from work so I can go be appreciated is kinda contrary to that purpose.
End of year: really, do I have to be there to celebrate my child reaching the end of the school year? I'm happy for them. I'm proud of them for somehow having survived another year in school without getting the snot beaten out of them, destroying their lives forever or otherwise getting into deep donkey doo. However, schools have yet to realize or care that very, very few families can afford anymore to have a single earner. Which means, again, asking for time off work to go to these parties, which the kids enjoy, but you still wind up standing in a corner with the other adults while the kids do their thing and don't really care if you're there or not. Woo hoo.
People being sick: can't do much about it. Still, I've noticed that there seem to be stages in parenting a sick kid.
1. Denial. He's not sick - it's allergies.
2. Dawning horror and guilt. Crap. It is a virus/bacterial infection/other infection! I'm a terrible parent for not realizing he was sick.
3. Action. Take temperatures, make kid comfortable, maybe take kid to the doctor.
4. Relief. The doctor tells me to give him Motrin and make him rest while feeding him juice and soda and popsicles.
5. Annoyance. Kids who have been prevented from moving all day and whose fever has been managed with Motrin then who have been encouraged to drink and/or eat juice, soda and ice pops are not so fun to hang out with. I'd rather be at work.
6. Anticipation. He's almost better. Tomorrow everything will be back to normal. Yay!
7. Relapse. Ugh, the kid is still sick. Seriously??
8. Closure. Finally, everyone is back to work, back to school, sleeping and eating normally and no longer downing sugary drinks and ice pops like they're going out of style.
Then kid #2 (if you have one; if you don't, it's got to be you or your spouse) gets it. Repeat the cycle.
End of year: really, do I have to be there to celebrate my child reaching the end of the school year? I'm happy for them. I'm proud of them for somehow having survived another year in school without getting the snot beaten out of them, destroying their lives forever or otherwise getting into deep donkey doo. However, schools have yet to realize or care that very, very few families can afford anymore to have a single earner. Which means, again, asking for time off work to go to these parties, which the kids enjoy, but you still wind up standing in a corner with the other adults while the kids do their thing and don't really care if you're there or not. Woo hoo.
People being sick: can't do much about it. Still, I've noticed that there seem to be stages in parenting a sick kid.
1. Denial. He's not sick - it's allergies.
2. Dawning horror and guilt. Crap. It is a virus/bacterial infection/other infection! I'm a terrible parent for not realizing he was sick.
3. Action. Take temperatures, make kid comfortable, maybe take kid to the doctor.
4. Relief. The doctor tells me to give him Motrin and make him rest while feeding him juice and soda and popsicles.
5. Annoyance. Kids who have been prevented from moving all day and whose fever has been managed with Motrin then who have been encouraged to drink and/or eat juice, soda and ice pops are not so fun to hang out with. I'd rather be at work.
6. Anticipation. He's almost better. Tomorrow everything will be back to normal. Yay!
7. Relapse. Ugh, the kid is still sick. Seriously??
8. Closure. Finally, everyone is back to work, back to school, sleeping and eating normally and no longer downing sugary drinks and ice pops like they're going out of style.
Then kid #2 (if you have one; if you don't, it's got to be you or your spouse) gets it. Repeat the cycle.
Tuesday, May 5, 2015
Because I suck, that's why
My worst fears are realized. I didn't get a call from the school, but when I picked my son up last night, he was unusually lethargic and almost fell asleep in the car on the way to get his sister. So we got home and I took his temperature. 101.5. Meh, not too bad, but bad enough he's staying home, right?
So he woke up this morning and his skin was stinging hot. So I took his temperature. 101.5. Huh. That's not the end of the world. Two hours later, his temperature is almost 104. Well, shiiiat. So we went to the doctor and he happens to have a pretty nasty virus characterized by high fever, coughing, loads of snot, blisters on the roof of his mouth, lethargy and dizziness (from the fever). Oh, and a terrible parent who is in denial.
I wish I'd clapped my ears over his hands when the doctor recommended drinking and eating juice, popsicles and ice cream. Sadly I was too far away. Oh, well. Can't have everything. But you can have ice cream.
So he woke up this morning and his skin was stinging hot. So I took his temperature. 101.5. Huh. That's not the end of the world. Two hours later, his temperature is almost 104. Well, shiiiat. So we went to the doctor and he happens to have a pretty nasty virus characterized by high fever, coughing, loads of snot, blisters on the roof of his mouth, lethargy and dizziness (from the fever). Oh, and a terrible parent who is in denial.
I wish I'd clapped my ears over his hands when the doctor recommended drinking and eating juice, popsicles and ice cream. Sadly I was too far away. Oh, well. Can't have everything. But you can have ice cream.
Monday, May 4, 2015
Cardinal Sin
Today I committed the cardinal sin of motherhood: sending the potentially sick kid to school. Rags woke up this morning, the day after his birthday (9, for Pete's sake! 9!) feeling a tad on the gross side. Super stopped up, a little oogy in general, but hungry enough to have a bit for breakfast, to feel better after some food and liquid and well enough to choose school over a day spent in bed. Plus, he was taking cupcakes for his birthday, so that was additional incentive.
I'm now I'm waiting. Waiting to hear from the school nurse to tell me he needs to go home. One might argue that I should never have sent him to begin with. And that is possibly true. In fact, it probably is true. That said, have you stayed home with a pissed off kid who's decided (and demonstrated) he's just fine, thankyouverymuch, and doesn't want to spend all day in bed?
Anyway, now that I've committed the cardinal sin, I'm subject to the law of 50/50.
For the uninitiated, the law of 50/50 is also known as the law of It Could Go Either Way. Which means you wait all day to hear from the school nurse and it may or may not happen and you're not quite sure whether to feel like the worst mother in the world (if you get The Call) or a reasonable person making an educated call based on what you know of your kid (if you don't get The Call). Here's why I expect to feel like dirt later:
1. I took the day off. Yes, I'm selfish. I took a whole day off and don't want to be interrupted. Sue me. I have a doctor's appointment I've rescheduled twice due to kid events and would actually like to just get it over with.
2. I need to schedule some home improvements, something that requires a simple call but that I rarely actually have time to do while I'm at work. These home improvements are fairly important: we need our trees trimmed before they fall on the house and Rags needs an actual door to his room (we took the other one off when the frame cracked so hopelessly we couldn't open or close the stinking thing).
3. I would really, really, really like to go for a hike alone and I need new pants that aren't ripped and shoes that aren't falling apart. This is the part that makes The Call most likely. I'm doing something alone for myself with very few time constraints.
So, slap me on the wrist. The law of It Could Go Either Way certainly will.
I'm now I'm waiting. Waiting to hear from the school nurse to tell me he needs to go home. One might argue that I should never have sent him to begin with. And that is possibly true. In fact, it probably is true. That said, have you stayed home with a pissed off kid who's decided (and demonstrated) he's just fine, thankyouverymuch, and doesn't want to spend all day in bed?
Anyway, now that I've committed the cardinal sin, I'm subject to the law of 50/50.
For the uninitiated, the law of 50/50 is also known as the law of It Could Go Either Way. Which means you wait all day to hear from the school nurse and it may or may not happen and you're not quite sure whether to feel like the worst mother in the world (if you get The Call) or a reasonable person making an educated call based on what you know of your kid (if you don't get The Call). Here's why I expect to feel like dirt later:
1. I took the day off. Yes, I'm selfish. I took a whole day off and don't want to be interrupted. Sue me. I have a doctor's appointment I've rescheduled twice due to kid events and would actually like to just get it over with.
2. I need to schedule some home improvements, something that requires a simple call but that I rarely actually have time to do while I'm at work. These home improvements are fairly important: we need our trees trimmed before they fall on the house and Rags needs an actual door to his room (we took the other one off when the frame cracked so hopelessly we couldn't open or close the stinking thing).
3. I would really, really, really like to go for a hike alone and I need new pants that aren't ripped and shoes that aren't falling apart. This is the part that makes The Call most likely. I'm doing something alone for myself with very few time constraints.
So, slap me on the wrist. The law of It Could Go Either Way certainly will.
Friday, April 24, 2015
TGIF, baby
I slept in this morning - way too late. I usually get up between 5 and 5:30 a.m., but at some point I must've attempted to reset my alarm, but forgot to turn it on in my sleep-dazed state. So I woke up at 6:09 instead. I should be grateful for the extra sleep, but I felt buzzy and weird from the rush. That "oh, shit!" moment, followed by a frantic five-minute shower and subsequent "getting ready for the day" activities, going in to wake my son only to realize much to my relief that he was already awake, and my daughter woke soon after.
My reaction to sleeping in demonstrated how thoroughly my workplace has warped my brain. My thought process started normally, them promptly shifted into root cause, impact, fix, prevention:
My reaction to sleeping in demonstrated how thoroughly my workplace has warped my brain. My thought process started normally, them promptly shifted into root cause, impact, fix, prevention:
- Holy monkeys, I slept in more than an hour! Need to hurry! Shower!
- Shower done, clothes on - only 6:22 - wake kids! There's still time to fix this with limited impact!
- Sweet, kids are awake. Why the heck aren't they dressed? Get them dressed get them dressed get them dressed.
- Feed kids, make lunch, get kids to check backpacks, kids need to brush, put on shoes, get them the heck outta the house.
- (And here's where my brain went south) Hmmm, is there any way to identify a history of my alarm-resetting activities so I can identify what happened and figure out if this is a pattern? I don't usually do this, but when I did last, what were the circumstances?
- Hmmm, that's right - I've had the same clock since college. It won't give me a history of inappropriate sleeping in, so I'll have to rely on anecdotal evidence. Dammit.
- If it won't give me a history of sleeping in inappropriately, what will? How can I prevent this in the future, and what would the impact be if I did it again?
- Maybe I should go to bed early or set my alarm later to prevent this.
- Time for an action plan.
Wednesday, April 22, 2015
Testing is hard
I'm writing test scenarios for a product I own, and I've developed a newfound respect for the people who had this as part of their job description before me. Our previous product development and management model had been that we would read the law or subregulatory guidance, tell IT what to do and IT would do it and tell us how they recommended testing it based on the requirements we gave. Someone else would handle any resulting operational processes. It resulted in a lot of miscommunication and annoyances, but had no idea how good I had it.
Our new model is end-to-end product ownership. In other words, I have to read the law, tell IT what the law says, IT codes it, I tell them how to test it, I approve the results, I put in the operational processes and figure out how to report out afterward and make sure we're actually doing what we said we'd do. I also manage congressional complaints, discussions with the federal government and other fun. In other words, if something gets screwed up, the only person I've got to blame is myself unless IT jacks with the code.
On the upside, I'm forced to actually read what I told IT to do because I have to cross reference all my requirements to make sure they're tested. It makes me identify potentially missed requirements, requirements that need tweaking, items that may have changed, etc. And it makes me respect IT more.
The project I'm putting in place is large - very, very, very large. It's a massive industry change from the way we've been doing things so far and I've written nearly 100 test scenarios on logic in our system alone and I haven't even gotten to the hierarchies and data part yet, let alone putting together the operational processes I will then need to support and monitor on top of my other responsibilities.
Hats off to you, IT and ops. You guys are rock stars. And I'm the poor schlub trying to fill your shoes.
Our new model is end-to-end product ownership. In other words, I have to read the law, tell IT what the law says, IT codes it, I tell them how to test it, I approve the results, I put in the operational processes and figure out how to report out afterward and make sure we're actually doing what we said we'd do. I also manage congressional complaints, discussions with the federal government and other fun. In other words, if something gets screwed up, the only person I've got to blame is myself unless IT jacks with the code.
On the upside, I'm forced to actually read what I told IT to do because I have to cross reference all my requirements to make sure they're tested. It makes me identify potentially missed requirements, requirements that need tweaking, items that may have changed, etc. And it makes me respect IT more.
The project I'm putting in place is large - very, very, very large. It's a massive industry change from the way we've been doing things so far and I've written nearly 100 test scenarios on logic in our system alone and I haven't even gotten to the hierarchies and data part yet, let alone putting together the operational processes I will then need to support and monitor on top of my other responsibilities.
Hats off to you, IT and ops. You guys are rock stars. And I'm the poor schlub trying to fill your shoes.
Monday, April 20, 2015
Goodnight, Vienna, city of a million something somethings.
Sorry - I've got a terrible earworm today, but I guess it's better than Shake It Off. Now that was a rough day.
I am working from home again. Sometimes I wish I could work from home permanently (and I know my boss wouldn't care); then I work from home and blog from my kitchen while listening to another interminable industry call. Probably not super awesome. That said, these calls waste a ton of time. Instead of industry intel, I learn more about people than actual requirements. One thing I've learned from these calls: everyone - and I mean everyone - wants to sound smart.
Which is totally understandable. I want to sound smart, too. I'm guilty of "smart talk" on occasion when I'm feeling defensive, which I consider to be a huge flaw. But lots of people use smart talk all the time. What is smart talk? Trying to sound smart by nitpicking (oh, Sharon - clearly you've forgotten scope of practice and its relationship to deceased prescribers! Uh, there should be no scope of practice if the prescriber is dead. Just sayin'.), asking pointed, dickish questions and/or quoting obscure pieces of legislation having little to nothing to do with the actual subject at hand. That's smart talk.
Congratulations - you're very smart because you know the DHS requirement regarding unlawfully present individuals. That doesn't have much to do with a prescriber unless he or she is also unlawfully present, but I suppose if you're trying to feel smart, that's probably beside the point.
The crappy thing about smart talk: it actually works. People are frequently insecure enough in their own opinions that if someone smart talks confidently enough and won't back down, it makes others question themselves and defer. Which sucks, especially if you're like me and constantly questioning your intelligence and knowledge, thinking you couldn't possibly know enough and always needing to know more. I wonder when I'll stop feeling like that.
For that matter, I wonder if I should ever stop feeling like the village idiot - isn't thinking you know everything a big sign of arrogance and a hallmark of someone who is no longer curious, who will no longer learn? Whatever - this post has gotten way more philosophical than I anticipated. Time to get more coffee and read more law and ignore more smart talk. Goodnight, Vienna.
I am working from home again. Sometimes I wish I could work from home permanently (and I know my boss wouldn't care); then I work from home and blog from my kitchen while listening to another interminable industry call. Probably not super awesome. That said, these calls waste a ton of time. Instead of industry intel, I learn more about people than actual requirements. One thing I've learned from these calls: everyone - and I mean everyone - wants to sound smart.
Which is totally understandable. I want to sound smart, too. I'm guilty of "smart talk" on occasion when I'm feeling defensive, which I consider to be a huge flaw. But lots of people use smart talk all the time. What is smart talk? Trying to sound smart by nitpicking (oh, Sharon - clearly you've forgotten scope of practice and its relationship to deceased prescribers! Uh, there should be no scope of practice if the prescriber is dead. Just sayin'.), asking pointed, dickish questions and/or quoting obscure pieces of legislation having little to nothing to do with the actual subject at hand. That's smart talk.
Congratulations - you're very smart because you know the DHS requirement regarding unlawfully present individuals. That doesn't have much to do with a prescriber unless he or she is also unlawfully present, but I suppose if you're trying to feel smart, that's probably beside the point.
The crappy thing about smart talk: it actually works. People are frequently insecure enough in their own opinions that if someone smart talks confidently enough and won't back down, it makes others question themselves and defer. Which sucks, especially if you're like me and constantly questioning your intelligence and knowledge, thinking you couldn't possibly know enough and always needing to know more. I wonder when I'll stop feeling like that.
For that matter, I wonder if I should ever stop feeling like the village idiot - isn't thinking you know everything a big sign of arrogance and a hallmark of someone who is no longer curious, who will no longer learn? Whatever - this post has gotten way more philosophical than I anticipated. Time to get more coffee and read more law and ignore more smart talk. Goodnight, Vienna.
Friday, April 10, 2015
So...Cranky....
I'm going to complain. Just so you know, if you don't want to hear it, stop reading.
1. I cheated yesterday evening on being vegan and now I want to die. Just two weeks and apparently having two mouthfuls of cheese means my stomach is going to scream at me. All night and all day.
2. I cannot get information into my brain and churn it quickly enough. This ticks me off. I have a stack of legislation to read. Well, not that high - about 257 pages (should take a few hours) - but I hate, hate, hate that I read it, absorb it and then when I'm pulling together the physical impact of that legislation I don't know enough about the guts of our system to translate it to detailed impact. I. Hate. That. Of course, I didn't build the damn thing. But still...I don't like to wait. I need the knowledge now. If I could, I'd take every process flow, every book, law, newspaper and periodical and website, learn every flipping language possible and just cram it the heck into my head and process the hell out of everything.
3. Regardless of the gurgling of my stomach, I still "get" to take two kids to two baseball games because the tournament that was supposed to start yesterday instead started today thanks to wet fields. So now instead of one game starting at 8, we get to go to two games, one at 5:30 (which is a delightful time for a working parent) and another at 8. Dammit, can't they play in mud?
4. People are assholes.
5. They're also not dead and keep ensuring I know that.
6. They also will not. stop. scheduling. meetings. I hate meetings. "Let's chat on the phone." Um, no, let's not. Especially if you're dead.
7. I can't think a full thought without being interrupted, which makes me want to punch someone or something. But I can't remember who or what I want to punch, so I don't get to do that.
8. I don't feel like being an adult today. Honestly, I'm done - instead of working, then shuttling people to and from baseball games while trying to figure out how to feed everybody, what to take and when, I want to go for a run around my neighborhood, get all sweaty, shower, sit on the couch and eat ice cream (it'll have to be vegan, I guess - see #1) then sleep until noon tomorrow. Then I want to get up, spend oodles of time with my husband without disruption, then shower, nap and do it all over again.
Oh, well. To balance things out, there's got to be a bright side, right? So, here goes - as many good thoughts as there are bad:
1. It is Friday, thank goodness.
2. It's beautiful outside. Even if it were pouring, that wouldn't change the fact that everything is green and purply from spring.
3. The people calling me are not dead, so that's good (better if they would stop calling me).
4. At least the last baseball game will end at 9:30 and not start at 10 or something ridiculous.
5. My pants are looser.
6. I get to sleep in tomorrow until at least 6:30 a.m.
7. I got to come back home and continue working here because of said upset stomach (telecommute policies = awesome compensation for stupid long hours).
8. I get to go to the library tomorrow. I love the library! I just need to know what I want before I go - I get so overwhelmed when we go. I want to take everything home.
1. I cheated yesterday evening on being vegan and now I want to die. Just two weeks and apparently having two mouthfuls of cheese means my stomach is going to scream at me. All night and all day.
2. I cannot get information into my brain and churn it quickly enough. This ticks me off. I have a stack of legislation to read. Well, not that high - about 257 pages (should take a few hours) - but I hate, hate, hate that I read it, absorb it and then when I'm pulling together the physical impact of that legislation I don't know enough about the guts of our system to translate it to detailed impact. I. Hate. That. Of course, I didn't build the damn thing. But still...I don't like to wait. I need the knowledge now. If I could, I'd take every process flow, every book, law, newspaper and periodical and website, learn every flipping language possible and just cram it the heck into my head and process the hell out of everything.
3. Regardless of the gurgling of my stomach, I still "get" to take two kids to two baseball games because the tournament that was supposed to start yesterday instead started today thanks to wet fields. So now instead of one game starting at 8, we get to go to two games, one at 5:30 (which is a delightful time for a working parent) and another at 8. Dammit, can't they play in mud?
4. People are assholes.
5. They're also not dead and keep ensuring I know that.
6. They also will not. stop. scheduling. meetings. I hate meetings. "Let's chat on the phone." Um, no, let's not. Especially if you're dead.
7. I can't think a full thought without being interrupted, which makes me want to punch someone or something. But I can't remember who or what I want to punch, so I don't get to do that.
8. I don't feel like being an adult today. Honestly, I'm done - instead of working, then shuttling people to and from baseball games while trying to figure out how to feed everybody, what to take and when, I want to go for a run around my neighborhood, get all sweaty, shower, sit on the couch and eat ice cream (it'll have to be vegan, I guess - see #1) then sleep until noon tomorrow. Then I want to get up, spend oodles of time with my husband without disruption, then shower, nap and do it all over again.
Oh, well. To balance things out, there's got to be a bright side, right? So, here goes - as many good thoughts as there are bad:
1. It is Friday, thank goodness.
2. It's beautiful outside. Even if it were pouring, that wouldn't change the fact that everything is green and purply from spring.
3. The people calling me are not dead, so that's good (better if they would stop calling me).
4. At least the last baseball game will end at 9:30 and not start at 10 or something ridiculous.
5. My pants are looser.
6. I get to sleep in tomorrow until at least 6:30 a.m.
7. I got to come back home and continue working here because of said upset stomach (telecommute policies = awesome compensation for stupid long hours).
8. I get to go to the library tomorrow. I love the library! I just need to know what I want before I go - I get so overwhelmed when we go. I want to take everything home.
Thursday, April 9, 2015
Week of the weird
Everyone has one - an odd week where things happen that are a little off. Yesterday I got calls from three different people to inform me that they were not, in fact, dead. The day before that, a large line of cars was stuck on an exit to the highway to accommodate a rather large wild turkey that had decided to hang out in the middle of the road, gobbling at the honking cars. This morning was a little weird because there was a large herd of deer having an orgy in the backyard.
I'm ready for this week to be over. Things should calm down, people should chill out and stop calling to tell me they're not dead. The deer doing it in the backyard are fine (it wasn't people, so that's good). So is the turkey (didn't want to go to that meeting on time anyway), but having a day, a morning, an hour when something strange or escalated isn't happening would be nice.
Hopefully I'll get time to read later on. I've got 300+ pages of legislation to read and not much time to read it in. I'm sure I'll get it done. As long as I don't get attacked by a wild turkey.
I'm ready for this week to be over. Things should calm down, people should chill out and stop calling to tell me they're not dead. The deer doing it in the backyard are fine (it wasn't people, so that's good). So is the turkey (didn't want to go to that meeting on time anyway), but having a day, a morning, an hour when something strange or escalated isn't happening would be nice.
Hopefully I'll get time to read later on. I've got 300+ pages of legislation to read and not much time to read it in. I'm sure I'll get it done. As long as I don't get attacked by a wild turkey.
Friday, April 3, 2015
My blog as a movie character
I was thinking, which is dangerous because doing that hurts my head and makes me appear a bit like a mad scientist when I decide to execute on an idea. Which is cool, because I've got wild curly hair as it is. It lends itself well.
But, I was thinking nonetheless, that if my blog were a movie character, hiddenchicken would be the female version of Bob Destepello from Gross Pointe Blank. It's not that I'm particularly aggressive, but the scene where he reads John Cusack's character his "poem" resonates with me on an almost uncomfortable level.
Primarily because I'm here, in my kitchen, producing random glurge that people are nice enough to read, but they'd probably really like me to skip to the end. I feel that way all the time at work. "Dammit, man - what is the POINT?"
The point is, I don't actually have one. That, my friend, is my secret.
So that's that. Yet you stay with me anyway for whatever reason. Maybe you want to spam me and use me as a way to get others to read your blog. Maybe I entertain you with my bumbling attempts through life. Or perhaps you're looking for more information on looking up women's sundresses or Benedict Cumberbatch (apparently someone may a lifesized chocolate statue of him...no, really).
My most common search terms, by the way, are related to heat rash and looking up sundresses, which leads me to believe that people might be getting chafed from attempting to look at panties in the summer. You really need to stop that, by the way, or at least try Runner's Lube or Body Glide.
Well, I'm going to peace out - I'm technically working, but with Good Friday, most people are out or not paying attention, which is nice for a change.
But, I was thinking nonetheless, that if my blog were a movie character, hiddenchicken would be the female version of Bob Destepello from Gross Pointe Blank. It's not that I'm particularly aggressive, but the scene where he reads John Cusack's character his "poem" resonates with me on an almost uncomfortable level.
Primarily because I'm here, in my kitchen, producing random glurge that people are nice enough to read, but they'd probably really like me to skip to the end. I feel that way all the time at work. "Dammit, man - what is the POINT?"
The point is, I don't actually have one. That, my friend, is my secret.
So that's that. Yet you stay with me anyway for whatever reason. Maybe you want to spam me and use me as a way to get others to read your blog. Maybe I entertain you with my bumbling attempts through life. Or perhaps you're looking for more information on looking up women's sundresses or Benedict Cumberbatch (apparently someone may a lifesized chocolate statue of him...no, really).
My most common search terms, by the way, are related to heat rash and looking up sundresses, which leads me to believe that people might be getting chafed from attempting to look at panties in the summer. You really need to stop that, by the way, or at least try Runner's Lube or Body Glide.
Well, I'm going to peace out - I'm technically working, but with Good Friday, most people are out or not paying attention, which is nice for a change.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)