And so, we come to the end of yet another craptastic week. Not quite as bad as last week, but pretty close minus the hooha issues. I guess there are some things to be thankful for.
Back from the dead
Amazingly enough, my laptop has been resurrected to live yet another day. Our IT guy at work spent about eight hours working on it and finally brought it back. And of course, I lost every freaking thing on my hard drive including all my iTunes and some pictures. I’d backed up about 99% of my stuff to the network at our office, but didn’t get everything. But that's okay, I'm just glad to have my little buddy back.
It’s kind of odd having this clean slate. I inherited the laptop from Napoleon, the much-hated superintendent on that huge project I worked on last year. I love this thing because it’s one of those small Gateways that is just perfect for small hands. Feel free to insert any jokes you want about the size of Napoleon’s hands as related to his – ahem – manly qualities, because I’m sure they apply.
Need advice? Just ask a four-year-old.
Me: (talking to Joey) So I went downstairs and caught Intern reading at her desk again. That’s like the third time in two weeks, and it just pisses me off that we’re paying her so much and she just doesn’t do what she’s supposed to be doing.
Monkey Man: Mommy, you just need to tell her that she is doing a bad job!
Me: You think so?
Monkey Man: Yeah. Tell her to get to work!
So Joey goes on to discuss some office issues in his company and Swami Monkey Man springs into action again:
Monkey Man: Daddy, you need to tell all of them to stop being lazy and bothering you all the time.
Joey: Hey, I need for you to come to my office and take care of all this for me, okay?
Monkey Man: Don’t be silly, daddy. I’m too little to do that.
Orgasm in a cup
Dairy Queen Banana Cream Pie Blizzard.
I’m just sayin’. It’s so wrong I don’t even know where to begin. And I know I turned on a van full of construction guys about 15 minutes ago when I was digging into it while waiting for my car to finish filling up and I was moaning out loud. Orgasmic, indeed.
It’s all about forgiveness I guess – or maybe just medicating yourself until you forget why you were pissed in the first place
My mom’s sister Hazel has lived next door to them since 1987. Sometime during the summer of 1988, she stopped speaking to my mother and the rest of our family – and the weird thing is that no one can figure out why.
With all of the other sisters getting on up there in age, my aunt Rubye had a little mini-intervention with her about a month ago and told Hazel that she needed to get over whatever had crawled up her butt and start talking to my parents again. She is a widow with no children and few friends that are still living, so she needs Mom and Dad’s help. After balking, Rubye took Hazel to the doctor and apparently they loaded Hazel up with some antidepressants and she’s like the aunt we all used to know and love. According to my sister who saw her earlier this week at my aunt’s funeral, Hazel acts like nothing ever happened despite the fact that it’s been 18 years since she spoke to any of us.
The whole thing is kind of bizarre to me. This is a woman who was my favorite aunt – we spent summers and Christmases at her house, we were like her kids and then suddenly we were shut out of her life. It was incredibly gut-wrenching for years, and gradually I became rather apathetic about the situation because I figured there was nothing I could do to fix it.
She doesn’t know where we live.
She doesn’t know what I do for a living.
She doesn’t know my husband.
I don’t even know if she’s aware that I have a son.
But tomorrow, I’m going to walk across that field and go see her. I figure if the medication can make her forgive and forget, I can do the same before it’s too late and I don’t get the chance. No medication required.
Hope y’all have a great weekend…I’ll be without internet until we get home on Sunday, so I expect the withdrawal symptoms to start any minute now.