One of those days (6/9/08)

So, today I declare war on the cows.

You see, I have a theory about a certain type of person. The person who, when asked to do something, either does it incompetently because he/she doesn't think or does it until he/she hits a roadblock, something that could be easily figured out but proves to be a stopper because he/she doesn't think. I liken these people to cows. A cow will meander until it hits a barrier. Then it stops. It doesn't look for a way around the barrier, nope. It just stands there until someone comes to show it where to go. I work with a lot of cows. I end up doing a lot of people's jobs for them, it seems like. And I am bloody well tired of it.

A message to those around me: think, people. Just think. Or you're going to be receiving end of a cattle prod.

(Today's bitchiness quotient: 9 on a scale of 10, 10 being "I'm going to kick you for no good reason." Perhaps the prozac, she is not working quite so well today... did I mention that I've got my period? Did I actually have to?)

Anyway... this entry sort of sums up the point of this blog, which is mostly a forum for me to vent without totally annoying the crap out of the people around me. Sometimes, it actually works. Everyone's got something to vent about--their own personal cows, I suppose. Me, I'm a full-time working mother of a rather precocious (although everyone says that, don't they?) soon-to-be-three-year-old daughter (A) and my husband (T) is, insanely enough, commuting to a graduate school that's more than four hours away, meaning he's gone a lot during the fall and spring. Which has given me incredible respect for "real" single mothers--may all the deities bless you, ladies.

At any rate, maybe I don't have any more to vent about than anyone else, maybe I do. This is simply space where I can try to see the humor in all the insanity and, perhaps, even in the cows.

(Later in the day:) The cows are still winning, I think. Karmically, at least. Anything that could go wrong today, did. There are the epic failures, such as paying $1,300 to get my car's a/c fixed and then, whilst driving home, watching the engine warning light come on, which evidently could mean anything from "Eh, this light shouldn't be on" to "Hey, dummy, your engine could blow AT ANY MINUTE." Comforting, no? Work is still a heap o' steaming poo. Deadlines are whooshing by--making Douglas Adams a happy man in the twilight realm--and it's totally out of my control, which I just loooove. I get new responsibilities by the day yet there is no increase in my pay. (Hey, was that a haiku? Nah, just a shitty rhyme.)

And then there's the small stuff, which is what tends to be my breaking point: daycare sends home a note that A needs pull-ups, wipes, and a water bottle. The first, fine; the second, not so fine--we were out of town this weekend and I didn't get to do my usual Target run. The third... huh? Because we are the home of the Tour de France and just happen to have hundreds of water bottles lying around... except that we're not, and we don't. Some desperate rummaging managed to turn up one from T's undergraduate days, oh-so-many years ago. Well, at least she'll stand out...

[Editor's note: I'm moving several posts over from another site due to technical difficulties. So ignore the posting date if another one is specified in the title. And yes, I'm just Type A enough for that to bug me.)