Thursday, December 17, 2009

Excuse me, Has any one seen my Christmas spirit? Its Vodka shaped with some Ice?

Bahumbuggery is not for me.

I like Christmas.
I like the lights, I like the music, I like the presents,
I like the food.
I like the Santas, I like the reindeer,
I like the baby Jesus and his brood,
I like being with the family, I like the fires, I like the snow,
I like the jingling in the mall,
I like the mistletoe.
I like the holiday season where you’re all warm and happy and plump!
But if I like all of it so much, why am I such a grump?

For reals. I’ve got a stress monkey on my back trying to force myself to get everything in my life in perfect order before Christmas so I can enjoy the holidays.


You heard me, I’m stressing myself out, over making sure I get things done so that I can relax and enjoy myself.

Yes yes, I’m retarded.

Go here, get this, spend that, pick up this, send that, wrap this, clean that, decorate this, bake that.

Its ridiculous, its stressful and its starting to show.

I’ve been snapping at the husband.

I’m not talking I just washed the floor and he walked across it in muddy boots kind of justifiable snapping.

No no. Full on Crazy wife kind of shit.

Crazy Wife: Why is this heater plugged in, in the garage?

Husband: because its 40 below and you were worried about the dogs freezing so I put an extra heater in there so we wouldn’t have to leave them in the house to wreck your decorations.

CW: That heater sucks the power like no bodys business, the only thing that it is accomplishing is to flush our money down the toilet! Why would you do something like that when we are trying to save money??!!!

Okay, maybe not exactly those words,(probably many more than those) but I was in another state so I don’t remember exactly what I said about his nice idea to warm the garage thus quelling my fears for our dogs and our decorations all in one fell swoop. I do know whatever I said was ridiculous especially since the conversation took place with me back lit by the roughly 400 Christmas lights I have strewn around the main floor.

That single heater must be unplugged, but these Christmas lights will twinkle Dammit!

Today it was the milk.

There wasn’t enough left for two bowls of cereal, so instead I decided we could each share what was left, and eat toast or a bagel or waffle or something.

You’ll note I said I decided this, not I discussed this with the husband.

So I made a bagel. The husband came into the kitchen, saw the milk situation, saw me eating the bagel, and figured he was good to go to have cereal with the last of the milk, you know, since I was already eating and all.

CW: “I was going to HAVE some of that!!!!”

H: Sighs audibly, puts the Milk back in the fridge, makes a clearly grumpy why the hell do you want to drink the milk I’m trying to use to eat breakfast facial expression and says “Fine, Have some”

CW: well not if you’re going to be all GROUCHY about it!! I was just trying to have us share the milk you know!!!

Oh, you think maybe I’m joking a little bit? Nope, nuhuhn, I think maybe he’s only speaking to me right now because I’ll lose my mind and yell about him not speaking to me if he stops!

I’m actually starting to think if I don’t find my happy place soon my grumpy place isn’t going to have a husband in it to yell at!

So tonight I will buy milk, and a bottle of wine.
I will relax with my husband and stare at my lights and pet my warm dogs and take a deep relaxing breath.

Then tomorrow I will lose my mind all over again before my Parents arrive… on Saturday?

What?? I thought they weren’t coming till Sunday!??

Maybe I’ll skip the Milk and buy two bottles of wine.

Tuesday, December 15, 2009


Oh I had a fucking morning let me tell you!! Some assfuck douchebag cunt face scared the ever loving shit out of me this morning and is all self righteous and indignant about it now and I’m just fucking fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuming with impotent rage.

HEY RAGEY!! Get in here!

So I drive to work down a road where at the lights, the road splits into two lanes. One lane is for people to turn right, the other is for people to go straight and turn left. When traffic is backed up, I will drive along in what should be a lane and that eventually turns into the right turning lane at the light. Everyone does this. I’m turning right waaaaaaay up there, why the hell should I wait waaaaaay back here for traffic to go straight or turn left.

So I did that this morning. I eeeked around some people and drove on up, I didn’t go fast, I wasn’t unsafe, just getting to work. I get to the light, and there are two cars in front of me. I look in my rearview and the aforementioned assfuck is barreling down on me. Now it’s minus 36 this morning and tires don’t work so shit hot in minus 36 so I get VERY concerned that assfuck is going to hit me. So I crank my wheels to the right and move forward (hitting the curb) hoping he doesn’t slam into me. He cranks it left and gets stopped. Phew… I think.

Nay nay.

Assfuck leaps out of his vehicle and comes running at my vehicle. You know fight or flight? Ya, well that kicked in right about then and let me tell you people for me its flight all the fucking way!

I don’t know who this douche is or what I did to ruin his fucking morning but I want to get away from him and I want to do it NOW.

Luckily, the light turns green and I start to drive. Not fast enough though and assfuck catches the back of my car and punches my side rear window. So hard, and in minus 36, that I thought it broke. I turn and just drive, Assfuck runs back to his truck and turns behind me.

Now normally I pride myself on being a strong woman. I’m tough, I clearly have a mouth on me, I feel able to verbally defend myself and I’m not exactly a skinny bitch so I do usually pack some intimidation, not that I’m ever in a circumstance to need to intimidate but you know.

Today though, today I crumpled into a ball of tears, whipped out my phone and called the husband shrieking and hyperventilating. “some assfuck is trying to kill me!!!” . Now I’m on the phone with husband, who of course due to my state is VERY concerned. I am driving and Assfuck is still on my tail. He pulls up beside me at a light, his lane moves faster and I think, thank goodness, he’s going away. I need his lane so I pull in behind him. He stops dead at a green light and opens his door again.

I freak out. I scream into the phone and then drive around and right into another red light. I am in the wrong lane to get where I need to go and assfuck is right behind me. I’m hyperventilating explaining to husband the company logo on assfucks vehicle, I’m describing the vehicle and freaking right out.

Green light.

We drive ahead, I turn off into a mall, he keeps going. I calm down…and then decide NUHUHN assfuck!! Suddenly the tough chick in me started to get her head back out of the covers so I follow him until I’m sure he has turned into the business logo I saw on his truck. All the bravado left me then, and I tell husband where assfuck went and then I bitch and moan to husband all the way to my work and say should I call there or what?

Ominous…dark…angry husband voice comes out of my phone and says, “I don’t think that will be necessary… I’ll call you back.”

Unfortunately for Husband and I we are responsible adults and it wasn’t a movie so he did not just walk in the door and beat the ever loving fuck out of the guy…although he really really wanted to, and I really really wanted him to.

He talked to him, and assfuck lied and lied and lied some more. Did you know I almost hit some kids and he was clearly just trying to calmly tap on my window to make me aware of my poor driving? Did you know I romped a curb and drove on it the whole way and assfuck can show you my wheel tracks?

Assfuck I hate you. I don’t want to hate but I hate you and your self righteous lying bullshit. Fuck you for scaring me half to death, fuck you for not realizing that even if I had somehow broke the law, you attempting to “inform” me of that caused you to break even more laws than me. Fuck you for not shaking in your boots and for not realizing that the only thing between your face and my husbands fist was societal conventions.

Fuck you for making me feel impotent rage all day.

Thursday, December 10, 2009

You've GOT to be Shitting me!

I haven't been on here to blog in 5 whole days? Where did 5 days go and why isn't it the weekend yet?

So many fantastical things to write about occurred over 5 days! I should write about those things!!

But I won’t.

Instead I will write about the thing that is most present on my mind at this exact moment. That is that I am currently covered in coffee.

I’m not talking a little spill on my pants, or a drip on my shirt. No, no. Head to toe people… Head to Fucking Toe.

So, as I previously mentioned, I am notoriously late for work. SO often in fact that it is a running joke with, well let’s be real here, almost everyone I know. So, I am trying to get up earlier because recently it has gotten worse. I have consistently been between 15 to 30 minutes late for work every morning for the last two weeks,  (okay month an a half). Recently I’ve been thinking, I gotta make a change here, I mean, I used to make it on time at least twice a week! So last night I set my alarm a half hour early, and on top of that the husband has to get up earlier this morning. I DID IT!  I got up early, and was out of the house in time to get coffee AND be 30 minutes EARLY for work.


Soooooooo drive through chick hands me a steaming cup of coffee which I pull into the vehicle where the lid on the cup promptly POPS THE FUCK OFF. This ruins the structural integrity of the cup, thereby causing my hand to squeeze the cup together, causing a liquid surge upwards…and outwards. Imagine if you will, a fountain of coffee between me and my steering wheel.  It probably would have been quite pretty, and damn funny had I instead been standing outside the vehicle, at say, the drive through window.  To her credit the chick did not laugh. While, because it happened to me I was nine kinds of mad, I can't say in her position that I would have been able to hold in belly rolls of laughter. 

There is now coffee: On the Steering wheel; on the floor; on the passenger seat; on the gear shift; IN the gearshift; in a pool in the cup holders; on the floor mats; on the dash; in my hair; all over the front of my coat; up my coat sleeve to a borrowed white shirt, (psst- you didn’t want this one back did you?); all over my right leg; on my shoes; even on my socks. I haven’t been to the bathroom to check my underwear yet but I wouldn’t be shocked to find coffee.

Wait a minute you say, you are coffee drenched and still went to work?


You think I’m going to let coffee stop me from getting to work EARLY???

NUH-UN people! I was NOT going home to change only to end up at work just as late as ever!!!

So here I am, coffee drenched clothes slowly drying, sipping my replacement coffee, writing this blog as I wait for my work to process (had throw that in there, my accountant thinks I’m slacking) while I repeat a mantra to myself, thedaywillgetbetterthedaywillgetbetterthedaywillgetbetter. 

I think I am doing quite well, taking the high road, picking myself up, dusting off the coffee and saying, screw you ON TIME!  You're not gonna get me down!  A coffee explosion will not force my head back under the covers.  I will continue to try and beat you, I will continue to try to be on time or early... Even if I have to wear coffee to do so!

Thursday, December 03, 2009

What a Great Night

So I had a plan for a blog today, I titled it "Speaking of Receptionists" and it was about the incompotence of the Receptionist in my office. I had it started and everything, and she really is spectacularly stupid.

Then, I came home. We were supposed to go to friends house for dinner. We were going out because of the earlier GE bitchfest regarding the fucked fridge. The Husband had taken it apart and worked on fixing it up and in doing so took out all the shelves so that it would defrost easier.

Dinner plans changed, Friend and that Kid decide to come to our place. No big deal, I'll just put the shelves back in the fridge so we can cook.

I put the top shelf in first, then thought, this is dumb. I should start at the bottom, so that I make sure they are spaced properly.

I take the vegetable drawers out of the bottom shelf and lift it up.

Doing so I smash my hand on something, causing it to not hold on properly. No big deal again, I get a better grip on it, rolling it into my arms.

Hey guess what? That glass on the bottom shelf is not actually attached to the plastic shelving parts....

Did you know that when tempered glass hits a tile floor EXACTLY on the corner it shatters?

Fucking Shatters. 7 or 8 more expletives shatters.

Finding glass over 10 feet away, shatters.

Should have gone to Friends for dinner...

Should have called a repair man...

Fuckin Fridge.

Wednesday, December 02, 2009


Yesterday I went to the Chiropractor and was greeted by a plump woman sitting behind a fancy plaque that says… Receptionist.

The Receptionist, lets call her “Miriam”,since that’s her name, says hello to me, hands me my regular treatment card and a new fancy bright orange laminated piece of paper. She then points and says “go ahead to room 2 or 3, whichever one he isn’t in”.

As I walk down the hall, hoping not to pick the wrong room and interrupt someone, I read the fancy orange paper. It says: “Help the doctor run on time” and then has the following list of things I need to do to help my chiropractor:

1. Turn off your cell phone- Okay no problemo, an understandable request and one I am familiar with at a variety of offices.

2. Empty Your Pockets and Remove Your Belt- also a completely reasonable request. The man twists and pushes on you, if you have keys in your pocket there is the real potential you could sever your femoral artery.

3. Place Treatment Card in Clip Outside of Exam Room This one gave me pause. At this particular office they have clips, rather than bins, that your file/card goes in. The doctor picks up the card before he enters so he can be “ready” to see you. In my general practitioners’ office, before they went to computers, this file was placed there by the nurse/receptionist. They usually put that there when they walked me to the exam room.

4. Change the Paper Sheet on the Exam Table- Another incredulous pause since, again, this is a job that, in normal doctors offices, is done by the same person who puts your card in the clip.

5. Lie on the Exam Table on Your Back and Wait for the Doctor. Now this is just ridiculous. The man is a chiropractor, he never wants you to be on your back when he gets in the room. He needs to examine you first and if you are on your back you are lying on the exact body part he needs to see!

So I read my list and I think about the tasks I’m being asked to perform. I think about the request at the front door asking me to remove my shoes when I enter in order to keep the carpets clean. I think about the sign in the waiting room asking me to place all magazines back in the bin I got them from to help keep the place tidy. I think about my new bright shiny orange laminated list and I wonder aloud, what exactly does this bitch DO?

Well, lets see: She answers the phone, which I have never heard ring but know it must because I call there to make appointments. While I can’t speak for all his patients, whenever I call, she usually manages to answer with “Doctors Office” but has, in the past, answered with “Hi there”.

She books appointments… more or less. I have only been booked at the same time as someone else twice. A minor detail she did not realize until we both showed up, and a fact that caused her to exclaim, “Darn it! Now he’ll be behind and we’ll be here late, again”

She hands me my treatment card, and takes it back from me after my treatment. I have to say it has almost always been my card! The one time it was someone else’s card barely deserves mentioning!

She tells me roughly what room to go to and uses her pudgy little finger to point in the only possible direction for you to go from her desk. On this I do have to point out that she is usually wrong. I’m not trying to be nit picky here but there has never, not once, been a time when she has said “room 3” and room 3 has been empty.

Finally, after my treatment, she is ready and waiting to take my payment. This is a feat she seems to be able to accomplish without complication.

On this particular day I was also presented with the new fee schedule. This of course caused me to note that now, not only am I doing more of this dumb bitches job, but I’m also paying more to do it!

Now I don’t want to be mistaken here, I am perfectly capable of putting my card in the clip and changing the paper sheet on the exam bed. These are not difficult tasks, hence why, maybe it wouldn’t be such a stretch to think that they would be done by the lump sitting at the front door? I am paying for this service, should I just crack my back hand you some cash and be done with it?

I have to think maybe Miriam does not know her job description? Or Does she know it but is choosing to roundly ignore the shit out of it? Or maybe it’s me? Perhaps I am misunderstanding the role of a receptionist? Maybe she shouldn’t walk me to the room, change the paper sheet and put my card in the clip! Maybe she is already doing far more than she expects!

Maybe the next time I call for an appointment, there will be a recorded message asking me to physically come to the building where there will be a sign up sheet on the door and I can book my own appointment. I could rifle through the treatment cards until I find my own and then randomly choose a room to go in. After the treatment I could run my own debit card through the machine and staple the receipt myself. On my way out the door I could tell Miriam to have a great day, hopefully not interrupting her too much while she works away polishing up her fancy Receptionist plaque.

All in all it would be a pretty efficient system. You won't catch me suggesting it though, since I'm absolutely certain that, that kind of personalized service would most certainly cost me an extra 10 bucks a visit.