Busy

Buried in Paperwork

Yes, I need to submit this picture to that website that showcases messy desks.

Have I mentioned it’s the first of the month?

I’ll be back tomorrow with something a little more substantial.  Maybe.  It depends on whether or not I can dig my way out of this…oh, let’s call it what it is.

Mess.

Have a lovely hump-day, y’all.

And I Have a Purse Full of Staples

We are FINALLY moved into our new offices.  Which is not to say we’re unpacked and settled into our new offices – we’ve just moved everything.  Or almost everything; I’m sure we’ll be moving bits and pieces from our homes, where we’ve all spent the last month working, for some time.

Hopefully, that will explain quickie post Monday, my absence yesterday and the brevity of this post today – we’re simply too busy trying to pull it all together and get our actual work accomplished.

There’s a bit of a saga story about the building we’ve moved in to, and I’ll try to write about that next week.  For right now, I’ll be lucky if I’m able to put together a post for the Spin Cycle this week and another recipe.  I have also had a bit of distressing news, which is another reason I’ve been quiet this week, but I’ll fill y’all in on that later – I’m hoping to make it part of this week’s Spin Cycle, assuming I can find time to get it written.

I’ll get around to visiting you all very, very soon.  In the meantime, I’m going to call someone to come clean the carpets in my house.

Have a great Ash Wednesday, y’all.

Scent of a Woman

PerfumeDear Personages of the Female Persuasion Who Share the Public Restroom on My Floor:

While I am thrilled that you are thrilled with what is undoubtedly very expensive perfume, it really is unnecessary for you to bathe in it each and every time you go to the john.

Really.

Trust me on this.

I’m sure it’s very lovely scent, but I can’t really be certain because the stench of it practically knocks me unconscious every time I enter the damn bathroom.  It’s hard to appreciate the smell of something that is physically assaulting you – and winning.  It is, in fact, so bad that I’ve been seriously contemplating the mechanics required for the use of a urinal without a penis.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go make an appointment with an ear, nose and throat specialist, to see if my olfactory sense will ever operate normally again.  In the meantime, I’m sure I’m not the only person in a five-mile radius the building who would appreciate it if you would be so kind as to throw the Chanel No. 5 knockoff out the window practice a little moderation.

Thanks ever so much,

The Only Woman in That Weird Office With All the Star Trek Signs and Computer Geeks

Just When You Think You Have Nothing To Blog About

Note: It will really help make this post funnier if you read it to yourself in a slightly inebriated, Texas accent.  So you can get the full effect and all.

I went to bed worried last night because I’d pretty much shot my wad yesterday with the Halloween reminiscences.  I had absolutely no idea what I was going to write about today.  In fact, it worried me so much I dreamt last night that I would blog about meeting Carole, who is really an odd duck, while I was in Texas recently.  The problem is, I haven’t been in Texas for over a year and don’t know anyone named Carole, strange waterfowl or not.

At any rate, I was saved from my bloggy dilemma this morning when I picked up my glasses to put them on my face, just like I do every morning, and they fell apart.  My $450, lineless, scratch-resistant bifocals, without which I can’t see doodly-squat.  Panicking, I grabbed an old pair of reading glasses I had stashed in my nightstand, threw $2 at The Young One for lunch, told him to eat cereal for breakfast, and sat down at the dining room table (which doubles as my desk) to try and remedy the situation.

With a butter knife.

Because I’m just handy that way.

First off, butter knives don’t work real well on those tiny little screws that hold glasses together.  Second of all, you never really realize just how filthy your carpet is until you get down on your hands and knees to look for that tiny little screw you just dropped on the floor.  Needless to say, I could not find the tiny little screw, although I did find some dandy filth, so I scrounged up another pair of old reading glasses (before I swallowed my pride and got bifocals, I had 132 pair of $3 reading glasses stashed all over the house, which irritated Beloved to no end because they were all pink or purple and he felt like a fool using them), and immediately broke them trying to figure out how to get one of the tiny little screws out.  Which was fine, really, because the tiny little screw just fell out on the table in front of me.  Having learned my lesson, I put it in a plastic, ziplock sandwich bag along with the lense and frames and took them to the office with me.

While there are some things that irritate the bejebus out of me about being the only woman in the office – no one ever notices when you’re wearing a cute new outfit and the only time they comment on your haircut is when it’s awful – most of the time it’s a good thing because as a group, men are really handy with tools.  When you work in an office full of geeks, they can be REALLY handy with tools, especially small, precision tools that need to be used with tiny little screws that hold your bifocals together.  So I handed my plastic, ziplock sandwich bag to TC – *waves frantically* Hi, TC! (he and his wife read my blog) – and asked him if he could help.  Whereupon he rolled his eyes, muttered “What, AGAIN???” under his breath and then announced he’d be pleased as punch to help.

So, I wandered off to my office, secure in the knowledge that I’d left my vision in the capable hands of a computer nerd.  A little while later, during my daily quest for morning coffee, I passed TC’s office.   He was on his hands and knees under his desk – apparently, hideous indoor/outdoor carpet isn’t any more conducive to finding tiny little screws than filthy, cream-colored deep pile.

Eventually, TC went to his car, found a pair of his own old glasses and disassembled them, using one of the tiny little screws to fix my bifocals.

That’s loyalty.

Or fear of unemployment.

Anyhoo, not too long after I had my bifocals back on my face where they belonged, I got a call from the school nurse saying The Young One had been in her office twice complaining of fatigue and a headache, but he had no fever.  He’s not the kind of kid to play sick, so I brought him home – and he’s slept all day on the sofa and is now feverish.

That’s what I get for forcing store-brand Froot Loops and cafeteria food on him, being the sorry excuse of a (blind) mother that I am.  Not to mention the last time he was sick I got a cataclysmic case of the flu.  For the first time in five years.

And I had the day from hell in the office.  You don’t even want to know.

And Beloved’s out of town on business AGAIN.

Couple all of this with a rip-roaring case of PMS and it should explain why I’ve had three glasses of shiraz, four fun-sized Snicker bars, two pieces of cornbread and a healthy plate of Double Cheeseburger Macaroni Hamburger Helper.

And am doing my Scarlett O’Hare impression…’cuz, hon, tomorrow is another day.  Thank gawd.

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I’d like to take this opportunity to remind you you have till 11:59 EDT tomorrow to leave me a comment and/or link from your blog for a chance to win a $25 gift certificate to Amazon.com.

I’d also like to take another opportunity to tell you to hop right on over to After the Dust Settles – Lynn is giving away two of her adorable piggy banks.

Or, if you prefer, you can visit Thursday Drive and enter for your chance to win a $25 gift card to Build-A-Bear.  At least take a look at that absolutely creepy baby doll she posted about today.

It’s just one big Giveaway-a-rama in the blogosphere this week.

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I also have a couple of shout-outs.

Plungergirl – A fellow texpatriate, she’s an extremely opinionated, intelligent young woman with a sinkful of dishes and a houseful of pets.  If she weren’t married already I’d introduce her to Oldest Son.

Nothing Fancy – she may be a Redskins fan, but seems to be all right despite that.  I think we may be able to get past our little football differences.  At least once the Super Bowl is over.

Haute Flash Contessa – one visit to her blog and she had me laughing so hard I just had to add her to my blogroll.

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And that is all for tonight folks.  I’ll be back tomorrow with some Friday Randomness.

If I don’t break my bifocals again.

Have You Kissed Your Pharmacist Today?

You should.  And if you don’t, I will.  Or at least, I’ll kiss my pharmacist.  Bear with me, because we have more bitching about aging.

I’ve suffered from arthritis at the base of my thumbs for several years.  Mildly annoying, but nothing horrible.  Until the other night.

So, I’m laying in bed reading, with my chin propped in my right hand, when I apparently moved the wrong way and my hand became one flaming sheet of agony, centered at the base of my thumb.  And it didn’t get any better.  Even the most minute movement of my thumb was excruciatingly painful.  I took some aspirin and wrapped my hand in a heating pad, and the pain subsided to a dull roar, enough for me to get some kind of sleep.

The next morning wasn’t any better, and since I’m between doctors (I have an appointment with a new one in September that will hopefully be smart enough not to patronize me) and had a ton of work to do, I went to the office and spent the morning typing with my left hand and sobbing softly while I tried to sign checks.  Once that task was done, I started home because I was expecting guests and still had the beds upstairs to make (the bathroom wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would be) and some other cleaning to do.  As I was driving home, I thought, “You know, this is ridiculous – there has got to be something I can do without spending the afternoon at stat care.”  So I stopped at the neighborhood Walgreens and made a beeline for the pharmacy, where I cried all over the pharmacist who looked all of 25 years old.

She told me her mother suffered from the exact same problem and that the doctor had given her a plastic splint that immobilized her thumb, which made her feel much better.  She said, “We don’t have any hand splints here that will do that, but let’s get you an Ace bandage and see if that will help.”  So she picked one out that didn’t need those little metal clips, instructed me on the best way to wrap it around my hand, plucked a bottle of Extra Strength Tylenol and a bottle of ibuprofen off the shelf and sent me on my merry way.

Once home, the first thing I did was tear open the package with the Ace bandage and carefully (and ineptly – I am right-handed) wrapped it around my hand the way the sweet little pharmacist instructed.

The relief was immediate and amazing.  A little research on the internet explained what most likely happened – due to the lack of cartilage, I’d dislocated my thumb.  Wrapping it in the Ace bandage must have popped it back in place, and several hours later I removed the bandage all together and the arthritis is just a mild annoyance once again.

I may not only kiss my pharmacist, but bake her some brownies to boot.

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I’d like to take this opportunity to let you know that my good friend Twenty Four at Heart is having a contest to celebrate her 100th post.  Leave a comment with a random fact about yourself and you could win a $50 American Express gift card.  Even if you don’t win, just reading her excellent and hilarious blog is reward enough.  Go.  Visit.  Now.

I’d also like to welcome Midlife Slices to my midlife blogroll.  She lives in Texas so I’m incredibly envious of her; she’s somewhere around my age and also has a 13-year-old son entering 8th grade so I’m incredibly sympathetic towards her.  She seems like good folks and I’m enjoying her blog immensely, so mosey on over and take a look-see yourself.