How much has my week sucked? Here's my suck-it/sunshine list
Toddler Flails-a-lot has yet another effing boil. That's makes three for the family—Husband-cat had one on his face a couple months ago and Toddler Flails-a-lot had one on her knee a couple weeks ago. Pediatrician finally got around to telling us that ragged, long, or dirty nails were probably responsible for the boils. Seriously?! You couldn't have told us that two boils ago? Her claws are like razors and we've been cutting them at a rate of one every couple of days due to Rubber Bones Baby's inability to sit still. You haven't lived until you've spent twenty minutes trying to trim the nails of a toddler in a damn high chair and failed. It makes you wonder why you bothered going to college since you didn't learn any useful skills.
On the side of sunshine and light: Toddler Flails-a-lot is awesome about medication so we don't have to to use a straightjacket to give her the boil-obliteration medication. Added bonus: this boil was caught before she picked at it and sent pus flying everywhere. That happened last time. One minute I was at the library minding my own business, the next I was desperately trying to both milk the disgusting thing of fluid and keep her from touching it and not gag violently. My internal dialogue went something like this: What's that puffy scab on your leg? That's doesn't look right, I should take you to the doctor. Oh God, you just pulled the scab off. WHAT IS THAT? GET THE WIPES! MEDIC! MAN DOWN! SEND ALL AVAILABLE UNITS! This time was a vast improvement on that. (And if you think it's disgusting to read, imagine how it felt to experience.)
The Devil's Rent-a-car
I did valiant battle against a Hertz rent-a-car notice that claimed a) I had an unpaid parking ticket—but that they couldn't tell me when and where I got this mystery ticket—and b) I owed them a fee for telling me this. I got on the horn and regulated, "You want me to pay a processing fee for a citation that you have no record of receiving? Um, no." I was firm but polite to Hertz and they spent thirty minutes researching and directing me until I had the correct information and evidence of the ticket. I lost the battle, but received great customer service and didn't curse anyone out. Sometimes that's the best you're gonna get.
Speaking Out Of Turn
Late one night, I wrote something that made sense (in my head) to someone I follow and very much respect on Twitter. They apparently thought I sounded insane and banned me from their feed. I felt completely embarrassed and stupid once I realized what happened.
I told Psycho Bambi and she thoroughly disemboweled the character of the person who banned me for not taking the two seconds to sort out what I meant. She confirmed that I was not, in fact, crazy and bollocks to everyone else. She said many pithy and terrible things and I felt much better. I may still be wrong, but at least I have someone who will defend me.
Side note: never ask a person if they are talking about murder or David when they post the word "lynch" and a picture (that you can't see) on their twitter feed. Apparently white people are sensitive about that since they obviously mean David Lynch and it would never occur to them that a minority reader might react like "What the fuck is the word lynch doing on my feed from a Southern white person?" Side, side note: my bad.
Momentous Adult Level Shit
Husband-cat and I both signed life insurance policies and wills this week. We are officially worth more dead than alive. We grown now.
So that was my week. A bit of sunshine, a bit of rain. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to go fling candy at anyone who comes near our house since Halloween has been rained out and I have a piles of cheap chocolate cluttering my desk.
(1940 Black Cat Halloween design, via halloween_guy on Flickr, for more of his awesome vintage black cats, click here)
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