A New Symptom Of PMS
I went to work yesterday, rolling my laptop down the hall like I do every day, and ran into my boss outside the door to my office.
"Good morning!" she said with her usual sunny disposition.
"Whatever," I replied. "I'm ready to go home."
"But you just got here!" she exclaimed. "Not a good night at home last night?" she asked with genuine concern, knowing my current situation with Shorty.
"No," I said, "last night was fine. I'm just burned out on work," I honestly replied. "I'm ready to go on vacation. A week ago I realized that it's been a year since I've had a real vacation and that's just too long. If I don't take this trip, one of these days I'm going to come to work and tell people what I really think!" She laughed and said, "Yeah, you need this. It's been a really stressful year for you."
"Yeah, if I don't go on this trip, pretty soon I'm going to start a sentance with those three little words no one ever wants to hear me say because anything that comes out of my mouth after 'You know what...' is never good." I then got myself set up to work. It didn't take long for my brother/husband Scott to show up in my doorway.
"Are you in a better mood today?" he carefully asked.
"I wasn't in a bad mood yesterday," I replied without looking away from computer screen.
"It didn't seem like it," he said.
"Well that's your perception and I can't change that," I said.
"Maybe that's what you were projecting," he retored.
"Change never comes easy," I stated.
He left my doorway & I started searching for information on Mary, Queen of Scots and how to deal with toxic people. Over lunch, Scott tried to suck me back into our usual debate conversation about any and everything. He picked at every little thing I said, but I dodged his comments when I realized I was getting annoyed and everyone was uncomfortable. I changed the subject by asking the guys if they were coming to my house to watch basketball after work. They were vague with there responses, so I didn't plan to rush off to Walmart to buy beer after I left the plant.
Once lunch was over, I went back to my office and regrouped. I thought back on a picture frame that's been hanging in my bathroom since I bought it several years ago. I gives 20 tips on HOW TO BE A SUCCULENT WILD WOMAN. One of the tips is, "Tell the truth faster". I then went to Scott's office and closed the door.
"So, I can't listen to you bitch about Buffy any more," I plainly stated (and yes, her name really is Buffy). "I've been listening to you for months and I find myself going home emotionally drained and bitching to my friends about the two of you. It's not healthy, and I've got to do what's best for me. I care and all, but I'm not trained for this sort of thing. I'm an engineer, not a therapist."
Scott nodded his head with understanding, said things were going better between them, then threw paper at me as a sign of truce. We were cool after that.
I was so inspired at the end of the work day that I went home and decided to tackle my sliding glass door. It'd been sticking ever since I went on my first business trip after moving here. For the last six months I've been squeezing myself through the space available after forcing the door open as far as it would go. Yesterday, I decided to figure out what was wrong (no matter how long it took) and just fix it.
It took me an hour, but I finally figured out that the bolt that holds the forward axle for the wheels in place was loose. I could've danced an Irish jig as I literally sang God's praises out loud in tune to the sound of the door easily sliding open and closed. I was so fired up that I decided to skip going to the bar to watch basketball with my new Brazilian friend (it was obvious at that point that my co-workers weren't coming over) and headed to Wallyworld to search for a new shower head. The one that came with the house has become clogged with hard water sediment leaving me less inclined to shower since the streams now come just a little too close to my hair line (and I do not want to have to straighten my hair every time I shower!). So I called my new Brazilian friend from the plumbing aisle at Walmart.
"I'm not coming," I said. "Where are you?" she asked. "You'll never believe it," I said. "I'm at Walmart." I told her how I was on a roll (no pun intended) after getting the wheels straight on my sliding glass door. I was too motivated to fix other things around the house to quit and go watch basketball. "The game's been on for an hour and I haven't even checked the score. If I don't do this now I may never do it!" She understood and we decided to meet on the weekend. I went home and changed out my shower head, and then stitched up the back on my favorite bra, a Victoria's Secret design that's been discontinued.
As I tried on my mended bra, I admired my girls under my Norway t-shirt and thought, "They a cup size too big for the bra, but that's because they have been swollen all week. Must be time for my period to start." Maybe this handiness around the house is a new symptom of PMS for me. It's a good thing since my freezer has recently stopped freezing and any popsicles I'd be eating would fall off the stick with one bite. I then started thinking of what else I could fix around the house.
After several attempts to open my Microsoft Money file & get my finances up to date. I was dismayed at the message that my file is corrupt! The virus has gone too far and I wasn't quite sure I had the patience to search for a cure at that time. I went to bed thinking about my computer and how I'm going to fix it. For now I'll blog from my work computer.
"Good morning!" she said with her usual sunny disposition.
"Whatever," I replied. "I'm ready to go home."
"But you just got here!" she exclaimed. "Not a good night at home last night?" she asked with genuine concern, knowing my current situation with Shorty.
"No," I said, "last night was fine. I'm just burned out on work," I honestly replied. "I'm ready to go on vacation. A week ago I realized that it's been a year since I've had a real vacation and that's just too long. If I don't take this trip, one of these days I'm going to come to work and tell people what I really think!" She laughed and said, "Yeah, you need this. It's been a really stressful year for you."
"Yeah, if I don't go on this trip, pretty soon I'm going to start a sentance with those three little words no one ever wants to hear me say because anything that comes out of my mouth after 'You know what...' is never good." I then got myself set up to work. It didn't take long for my brother/husband Scott to show up in my doorway.
"Are you in a better mood today?" he carefully asked.
"I wasn't in a bad mood yesterday," I replied without looking away from computer screen.
"It didn't seem like it," he said.
"Well that's your perception and I can't change that," I said.
"Maybe that's what you were projecting," he retored.
"Change never comes easy," I stated.
He left my doorway & I started searching for information on Mary, Queen of Scots and how to deal with toxic people. Over lunch, Scott tried to suck me back into our usual debate conversation about any and everything. He picked at every little thing I said, but I dodged his comments when I realized I was getting annoyed and everyone was uncomfortable. I changed the subject by asking the guys if they were coming to my house to watch basketball after work. They were vague with there responses, so I didn't plan to rush off to Walmart to buy beer after I left the plant.
Once lunch was over, I went back to my office and regrouped. I thought back on a picture frame that's been hanging in my bathroom since I bought it several years ago. I gives 20 tips on HOW TO BE A SUCCULENT WILD WOMAN. One of the tips is, "Tell the truth faster". I then went to Scott's office and closed the door.
"So, I can't listen to you bitch about Buffy any more," I plainly stated (and yes, her name really is Buffy). "I've been listening to you for months and I find myself going home emotionally drained and bitching to my friends about the two of you. It's not healthy, and I've got to do what's best for me. I care and all, but I'm not trained for this sort of thing. I'm an engineer, not a therapist."
Scott nodded his head with understanding, said things were going better between them, then threw paper at me as a sign of truce. We were cool after that.
I was so inspired at the end of the work day that I went home and decided to tackle my sliding glass door. It'd been sticking ever since I went on my first business trip after moving here. For the last six months I've been squeezing myself through the space available after forcing the door open as far as it would go. Yesterday, I decided to figure out what was wrong (no matter how long it took) and just fix it.
It took me an hour, but I finally figured out that the bolt that holds the forward axle for the wheels in place was loose. I could've danced an Irish jig as I literally sang God's praises out loud in tune to the sound of the door easily sliding open and closed. I was so fired up that I decided to skip going to the bar to watch basketball with my new Brazilian friend (it was obvious at that point that my co-workers weren't coming over) and headed to Wallyworld to search for a new shower head. The one that came with the house has become clogged with hard water sediment leaving me less inclined to shower since the streams now come just a little too close to my hair line (and I do not want to have to straighten my hair every time I shower!). So I called my new Brazilian friend from the plumbing aisle at Walmart.
"I'm not coming," I said. "Where are you?" she asked. "You'll never believe it," I said. "I'm at Walmart." I told her how I was on a roll (no pun intended) after getting the wheels straight on my sliding glass door. I was too motivated to fix other things around the house to quit and go watch basketball. "The game's been on for an hour and I haven't even checked the score. If I don't do this now I may never do it!" She understood and we decided to meet on the weekend. I went home and changed out my shower head, and then stitched up the back on my favorite bra, a Victoria's Secret design that's been discontinued.
As I tried on my mended bra, I admired my girls under my Norway t-shirt and thought, "They a cup size too big for the bra, but that's because they have been swollen all week. Must be time for my period to start." Maybe this handiness around the house is a new symptom of PMS for me. It's a good thing since my freezer has recently stopped freezing and any popsicles I'd be eating would fall off the stick with one bite. I then started thinking of what else I could fix around the house.
After several attempts to open my Microsoft Money file & get my finances up to date. I was dismayed at the message that my file is corrupt! The virus has gone too far and I wasn't quite sure I had the patience to search for a cure at that time. I went to bed thinking about my computer and how I'm going to fix it. For now I'll blog from my work computer.
posted by N'j at 8:27 AM
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