malinaldarose: (Default)
I am feeling a pronounced grinchyness this morning, which I was not feeling before I had to go out. I got through grocery shopping okay, though there were twice as many people out at 7:00 a.m. as there usually are -- and I ran into and had to converse with my brother. I got home and put the groceries away. I had already decided that I could wait to pick up the refill on Jack's happy pills until Monday...but there was a mouse in the trap in the kitchen closet. And this one was apparently trying to nest in there, because there was all kinds of fluff, too. I'm thinking it got pushed through the vents, and then followed after. Or maybe there are still more mice, and they were trying to make this one comfortable. In any case, it was obvious from the, ah, condition of the trap floor that the mouse had been there for some hours -- probably overnight. So I had to go take care of that. At least I could go where I usually go (to my office building) since it's Saturday.

On the way back from that, I remembered that I needed to stop at Tractor Supply (ugh) to get some stuff to mop where Kethri's been peeing, and they had salt (which WalMart did not). I also got a bed for Kethri that I hope I can put on a chair and persuade her to leave me the heck alone in the evenings. She drives me crazy trying to crawl all over me.

By that time, the pharmacy at KMart had opened, so I stopped to pick up Jack's prescription, then decided to pick up a mop and bucket while I was there. While I was pulling a bucket out from under the mop display, a mop fell on my head. Ow! Well, the rails were a little overloaded; I had trouble getting it back up there. Went to get in line, and the cashier obviously didn't know what he was doing (I think he was a stock guy pressed into running register), and had a difficult order. From the look of it, this lady had been doing not only all her last minute Christmas shopping, but some grocery shopping as well. It looked like they were re-ringing her entire order. After ten minutes, the guys in front of me dropped the wrist splint they were waiting to buy and left, moving me up to the next person in line. After fifteen minutes, I left the line -- but because I've worked retail before, I took my stuff back to where I got it. While I was putting the bucket back, that same fucking mop fell on my head again, then fell on the floor. I was so angry, I kicked it aside and left it there.

I'm ready to call it a day -- go back to bed and stay there. But I have too much work to do getting reading for Familyfest tomorrow. Ugh.

If I'd loaded Jack in the car and headed west, I could be hitting the Indiana border by now, and be at my aunt and uncle's in time for lunch.
malinaldarose: (Default)
Now that was a successful garage sale. I got up and got going early so that I could get to the grocery store and back before the sharks started circling. My ad said 9:00 a.m., so I wanted to be back from the grocery store by 7:30 a.m. I think I made it by 7:00 a.m., so I had plenty of time for breakfast. I went out a little before 8:00 to put up my signs (one on the corner of my street and one on the corner of the block diagonal from the first) and when I got back into my car from putting the second sign up, this car that had passed me was turning around up the block and when I got back to my house, they were just pulling off the road onto the edge of my front yard.

Bear in mind that my ad said 9:00 and it was not quite 8:00....

So I got out of the car, went into the house, and very pointedly did not come back out. When I looked out the window a minute later, they were gone. I may have missed a sale there, but I don't actually give a rat's ass because I think it is horribly rude for people to show up early. Which wouldn't necessarily annoy me except that people feel entitled to do so, and get pissy if you tell them that you're not ready to open up.

Anyway. I did go out and get started around 8:30, and the first people to show up were actually my parents. They wanted to check to see if there was anything I needed help with or if I needed Dad to schlep anything else out of the basement. Mom then decided that I wasn't charging enough for my drywall stash, and then Dad took a look at it and decided that he'd buy the whole damned thing from me, and so I still have drywall in my breezeway, but all things considered, I'd've probably still had at least some of it left at the end of yesterday, anyway.

I got the typical people: "Will you take a quarter for this?" "How much do you want for these brand new, unworn $80 shoes? Twenty dollars?!? I might just as well go and buy them in the store!" (Yeah, good luck with that; I bought them online and couldn't return them because of where I got them; the local stores don't carry them. Oh, and see above re: $80 shoes. Funny how no one who showed any interest in those shoes asked me to take less for them.) Then there was the guy who was interested in the band saw (the only tool that HTWIWM left behind -- he didn't leave so much as a hammer otherwise). Mom had advised me to put $85 on it and expect to get $70. He'd asked me my best price, I said $70, and he counter-offered with $60, and he'd take the two theater speakers off my hands for nothing. Weeeeelllll...I agreed because a) who knows if the speakers even work, and b) it meant getting rid of three big items and I only had $2 each on the speakers anyway. He insisted that the speakers were homemade, which I find doubtful given that they came out of the movie theater. Then again, before Carmike bought them out, it was a small mom-and-pop chain mainly in Pennsylvania and West Virginia with only one theater in New York. (And Carmike still only has one theater in New York.) So I suppose it's entirely possible that the speakers were hand made, especially if they were replacements for what was originally hung or something.

Oddly, late in the day, an elderly lady came in and she made a comment about the Seltic cross cross stitch pattern book I had; I told her about studying Keltic Culture and History, she asked if I ever used such a degree, specifically had I taught, I explained that after working in the mall, I never wanted to see another child again, and she asked where I had worked because her daughter had worked at the mall. Turned out that her daughter had been working at the theater at the time I started; she went off to college and we never saw her again, but since I went to a local school, I worked there for another couple of years. So the theater came up twice yesterday. Odd.

I closed up at midafternoon, and discovered that I'd had the best sale I've ever had ever...but I still have the gods-damned clawfoot tub....

Jack did not like the sale because he spent most of the day alone, either in the backyard or in the house. The few times I had a minute to check on him, I found him curled up either on the patio or on the ramp right by the door, sure signs that he wasn't happy. Though that could have been the smoke because there was something burning in the neighborhood. The Gossip thought it was coming from the railyard; if so, it must have been awful right by the tracks because it was pretty bad here half a mile or more away.

Today, I have done my laundry and changed the kitty litter, but have little more ambition than that. I do need to write checks for both my grandmother and myself, but since I missed yesterday's mail and there's no mail today or tomorrow, the urgency has somewhat gone out of that project. I could be cleaning because the house is a mess from getting ready for the sale, but my feet still hurt from spending a good chunk of the day standing on the concrete floor of the garage. So I rather suspect that I'm going to take a book and go sit on the patio in the sun. Or maybe I'll take my tablet, since I've started rereading Shadow Unit from the beginning.
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Yesterday's armed standoff ended around 5:00 p.m.; according to a Buffalo TV station, the police eventually ran out of patience with the guy and went in and got him. The guy who was shot (not a deputy, after all) is apparently going to be all right; he was flown to a Buffalo hospital. I am sad because someone's dog got lost in the whole thing; the dog got across the police line and the owner couldn't go after it.

I am displeased with some of my coworkers, though. One of them was going around bitching loudly about how we weren't on lockdown. Well, for one thing, the guy was contained, and for another, to get to us, he'd've had to run a several blocks and go through a single door. But she actually tried to contact the county administrator (currently on vacation) to demand that he pay more attention to our safety.

It got to the point where I mentioned to Co-Conspirator P that someone ought to duct tape the woman's mouth...which, now that I think on it, should just be done as soon as she clocks in in the morning because she's just obnoxious, period.

My parents dropped by last night because a) I am the keeper of my grandmother's purse strings and Mom has bought her some things lately and wanted a check for reimbursement, and b) to let me know that Easter dinner will be at the banquet center (ugh, gak, their food is awful) around mid-afternoon. Or so she plans, anyway; she hasn't actually made the reservations yet.

And then she made me quite a handsome offer. She hadn't realized, until lately, that I had considered buying my grandmother's house. Her offer was that if I wait until the house comes to her and MyAuntie, then I will only have to pay Auntie's share of the sale price. She will sign the rest over to me. This is...staggering, and unexpected, but I'm not sure how I feel about it. I do like my grandmother's house, and it has many features that I have always wanted (a dishwasher, a fireplace, a proper fence, a nice view, access to the dikes for walkies), but it is also quite a lot smaller than my house, much farther from work and I'd have to fight my way along the busiest streets in town (no mean feat, and it would increase my commute from six minutes to at least twenty -- I know some folks will be saying, "Aw, poor you!", but I don't live in a Big City, and so that is actually a Big Deal), and I said I'd never live inside the city limits again. On the other hand, I could probably afford to continue to pay this mortgage, if necessary, and pay MyAuntie.

I dunno. I will have to think very hard about this. As much as I loathe some parts of this house, it is my home.....
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It baffles me that my sister is so very conservative -- she was the one who was a stripper at one point, after all. My brother, not so much, because his neck is so red, it's a wonder he can wear collars. Oh, wait. He doesn't.

Anyway.

"Don't vote for Trump if he gets the nomination," I said to her.

"Well, I'm not voting for Hillary," she snapped back.

"Don't vote for Trump," our dad, who was also in the room begged.

Sometimes I feel like the blackest of black sheep. But sometimes, my folks and I do agree on things....
malinaldarose: (Default)
It is very, very, very, very, very cold. Today's high was 14°, but I think it started dropping before I even left work. The wind started to pick up around lunchtime; there was already blowing and drifting going on. I had to get gas at lunchtime and I think I bits of me froze and fell off while I was standing out there. We have a winter storm warning (snow, wind, blowing snow, low visibility) starting at 7:00 p.m. and lasting for 24 hours. Oh, yay. I'm wondering if there's any reason that I really need to go out tomorrow....

Or maybe I could get my groceries this evening after dinner. I'm meeting BFT and J1 for the dinner that was postponed earlier in the week. I'm not fond of going out to dinner on Friday evenings, especially since everyone else is, but we go when we're all free. *shrug*

I am freezing in the house, and if I weren't going out again, I'd've changed my clothes when I got home, but one does not wear one's dumpy stay-at-home sweats out to a restaurant. Well, this one doesn't, anyway. I may switch my office shoes (leather loafers though they are) for my clompy snow sneakers to go back out, though.
---
It has been an interesting week locally, in the "may you live in interesting times" sense of "interesting." There was the neighborhood fire on Sunday, then the day before yesterday we had a double-homicide/attempted suicide a couple of towns over. One of my Facebook friends knew one of the victims, and another knew the shooter. On the same evening, a woman jumped off the bridge into the river and died. (She was apparently alive when they pulled her from the river a mile downstream; either that, or they worked on her for nearly an hour at the hospital; the newspaper article was either less than clear or I do not remember it correctly.) She, it turns out, was BFT's next door neighbor.
---
I am reading a book on local history by Arch Merrill, who wrote several books on the subject. This one is the first of two volumes on the history of western NY's Southern Tier, and was written in 1953. While the history, of course, doesn't change, the present that he speaks of did. He speaks of local industries that have been gone for decades; one business he talks about was situated where my office building is now. I always thought they made vacuum tubes, but apparently, it was a refinery. Silly me, for going by the name. The style is breezy and engaging enough, but there are almost no transitions, so accomplished newspaperman or not, the writing reminds me of a junior high or high school history report. Also, there's rather a lot of casual racism with regard to the Seneca Nation. And oddly, this volume is missing from his bibliography in the Wikipedia article -- though the second volume is right there.
---
We had some fun at work this week -- for certain values of "fun." On Wednesday morning, the chief data entry operator was pulling her morning reports and said, "Um, girls? Is there something going on with your SDX report this morning? There are 29 auto-openings." So, we checked our report...and there was no report. Nothing. Zilch. Nada. And then, when we got to looking at the openings, all but three of them were already active, and in a couple of cases, had been active for more than twenty years. Well, there's nothing we can do with auto-openings other than to let them process, so we did, and B closed them all yesterday, then today, we sent the actual cases through to restack the coverage (don't ask)¹. This morning, there was a message from the state that for some unknown reason, the SDX system had generated auto-openings for people whose SSNs ended in either 4 or 9...which is the most bizarre system error I have ever come across. Don't do anything with them, the message continued, and we'll take care of it next week. Er...you couldn't have told us that earlier? Like...before we took care of it ourselves? As I said to Grandsupervisor via email, now is the time when we think (but do not say) uncomplimentary things about the state's ancestry and possible habits with small, furry woodland creatures.

Hey, she sent me back a smiley, so she got a laugh out of it. (She doesn't get very many laughs. Such are the perils of her position.)
---
¹ Did I not say "don't ask?" *sigh* Since you're asking, Medicaid coverage goes into the system in a stack, thus:
Full coverage, 1/1/14 - 12/31/14
Spenddown coverage, 12/1/13 - 12/31/13
Full coverage, 1/1/13 - 11/30/13

And so on. Each time the coverage is changed, the change is stacked over the previous changes, and the system(s) can only read the top two lines. If something that needs to be read is in the third line or lower, we have to restack the coverage. Some counties call it "toploading." In this particular instance, the auto-openings and the closures of the auto-openings created two lines in the stacking that pushed the actual coverage down to the third line. And so all 26² fake openings had to be restacked. And that's your Medicaid lesson for today.

² Three of them were Real, Honest-to-Goodness, New Cases openings.
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When I went to Chronic Care Training in Buffalo back in October, there was one afternoon session that was opened with a trivia game. Everyone in the room was astonished that I knew what "triskaidekaphobia" meant. I was rather surprised that they didn't. Now, remembering how it's spelled -- that's a different matter.

Two packages of Christmas gifts were delivered to the house yesterday (gifts that I have bought for other people, that is). One came in the mail, and the mailman set the package (and the rest of the mail) on the table. He also wrote on the box that the cookies were awesome. (Awesome!) Since the last box that UPS delivered was dropped on the floor next to the table, I have taken to leaving the breezeway light on in the evening, so that both table and sign are visible. Last night's delivery was left on the step up into the house...which involves walking right past both table and sign. Well, at least s/he didn't just drop it on the floor and run, I suppose, but honestly -- can't they read?

I have been having trouble sleeping for a while -- since the surgery, really. At first, it was because I was uncomfortable and couldn't sleep on my side. Then it was because I was afraid that if I rolled over too energetically, I'd tear stitches. Then...I guess it just got to be a habit to be awake. Maybe I'm not doing enough during the day to tire myself out? I dunno. I see the doctor again in a week, which is actually just shy of a month. They probably would've scheduled me for the following week were it not Christmas week and were he not going on vacation. He said I'd be 99% recovered by then, or should be, but I'm hoping he'll want me to stay home until the date he put on my original off-work slip (which is actually six weeks from the surgery). Next time I have a hysterectomy, I'm going to wait until after the holidays.

I should go visit my grandmother today; I haven't been to see her in a week again, and I really need to go install her new telephone for her (plus there will be bills to pick up). Pity I can't figure out a time when she's not going to be there, and sneak in and do it (because she never locks her room).

Argle, I say. Argle. And bargle, for good measure.
malinaldarose: (delenn_word)
I get a catalog from Victorian Trading Company, and in the past, I have enjoyed actually reading the descriptions of the items, as well as looking at the pretty pictures. But it seems like they must have sacked the person (or people) who was (were) writing their descriptions, because now, they tend to be just a little...off. Like someone who is trying to sound intelligent and just comes off sounding pretentious, or who picks just the wrong word.

For instance: Electric Lamp: Still reminiscent of early oil lamps, a buttery light exudes hand painted blooms upon an embossed replica glass globe.

I don't think that word means what you think it means.

So. Angry.

Jun. 29th, 2013 07:59 am
malinaldarose: (Default)
I am so angry this morning with my family. I'm supposed to go garage sale-ing with my parents, but I'm not going to go. When they get here, I'll take my brother's check out to them, but I'm not going. (Aside from the fact that I'm in a shitty mood, the weather's not that great, and I don't fancy spending the morning being soaked and cold.)

Right. Several paragraph rant about my brother the asshole deleted. No one cares, anyway.
malinaldarose: (Default)
Conversations I had yesterday:

With my mother, as she and my dad walked into my house at 8:00 p.m., about fifteen minutes after I got out of the shower after mowing the lawn, when I was just about to settle down on the couch with a movie:

She: You look like you're wearing a hospital gown.
Me: It's my nightgown.
She: Oh! You're ready for bed? Don't you want company?
Me: ... Of course. Please, do come in.

I don't, in general, like having company anyway, but I really hate it when people just drop in. And my parents have dropped in more times in the last not-quite-fortnight (since Gram went into EH, which is barely half a mile from my place) than they did in the entire year before that. Apparently, this is going to be a Thing, now. Oh, we're down at this end of town, let's go inconvenience our daughter!

Also, I think it threw Mom off because my door was locked and she couldn't just barge in like she normally does. Which was precisely why the door was locked; see above re: taking a shower and dropping in apparently a Thing now.
---
With the cashier at KMart, where I was buying some supplies for keeping my grandmother's paperwork. The total was $15.73 and I gave her a twenty. She had already given me the coins when she realized she didn't have enough ones to make change.

She: Do you have a one?
Me: Um...no. But I do have seventy-five cents.
She: Uh... Hang on. *whips out her phone to access the calculator function*
Me: That'd make it $5.02.
She: How'd you do that?
Me: I used to be a cashier. *hands her back the coins she'd already given me*
She: Uh...
Me: (exceedingly patiently) You gave me those. They need to go back in your drawer.
She: Oh!

Really? I learned about money when I was five years old, and by the time I was eight years old, my mother was entrusting me with making change at antique shows. Not to mention that at my first job, we didn't have cash registers at all, only drawers; we had to count inventory at the beginning and end of each shift -- and my cash drawers were never off.

And I'm not exactly what you'd call a math genius; I can barely do arithmetic in my head...though I do keep in practice by figuring out what the change will be ahead of the cash registers.
malinaldarose: (Default)
  • It's HTWIWM's birthday today.

  • It really annoys me when people drive down the middle of the street/road just because there's no curb. It's like they don't believe that the road is wide enough for them. Either that or they don't know where the edges of their vehicle are. It annoys me even more when they refuse to get over for oncoming traffic. Especially when the oncoming traffic is me.

  • My brother is an asshat. Not that I'm surprised about that. He was at Grama's when I got there last night; they were watching the news. A piece came on that involved Hillary Clinton; he made a crack about how much weight she'd gained, and I had to inform him rather snippily that her weight had nothing to do with her ability to do the job. Asshat.

  • I am annoyed with my grandmother. Her friend and almost-relative (MyNuncle's mother) offered to take her grocery shopping, and Gram refused because she didn't want to inconvenience anyone. L didn't offer to take Gram shopping because she was going shopping anyway, she offered to take Gram shopping. Period. But, no. Gram wants me to take her shopping when I go -- because I'll already be going, so it won't be an inconvenience to anyone. Except that I would have to drive across town, through an interesting construction zone, pick Gram up, take her to the store where she shops, then take her back home again, which would all end up being a separate trip because I go shopping no later than 7:30 a.m., and go to a completely different set of shops than she does. Nope, no one is being inconvenienced there, at all.

  • My aforementioned asshat brother's brats have lice. Again. Gram refused to let them in the house last night. Of course, they have demonstrated that they can't be trusted in Gram's house, so it all works out.

  • We had a meeting yesterday afternoon at work with an outside contractor who is supposed to make things work better. Smarter, not harder -- yes, she actually said that. It actually was a fairly productive meeting, but now I'd debating whether or not it's appropriate to email her with some concerns about our little subunit because no matter what processes they work out for the umbrella unit, our timeframes and requirements are still going to be different. I...talked a lot in the meeting yesterday, and I probably shouldn't have, so I don't know whether I should edge farther out on this limb or not. On the other hand, she did give us her email address in case we had any concerns.... I dunno if it's worth mentioning to my Co-Conspirators; they were both pretty put out by the end of the meeting. Of course, they were both pretty put out by having to attend to begin with....
malinaldarose: (Default)
  • I have a bit of a headache this morning. I'd say it comes from watching "A Scandal in Belgravia" on the PBS website while sitting at my desk, but the truth is that I found it somewhere on my walk this morning. I decided to take Sheila for long walkies this morning (around the big block which is a bit more than a mile, rather than around the short block which is really just a block and perhaps a quarter of a mile) and came home with a bit of a headache, though since it was early, perhaps it came from the low sun.

  • An example of why people annoy me so much: On the last stretch of our walk, two joggers came up behind us. I hauled Sheila out of the way so they could pass us and while I was arguing with her about sitting (she doesn't like to sit when she's on the leash), they went five feet beyond us, stopped running, and sauntered off at a pace no faster than we had been going before. Really? Really? They had to go those few extra feet? Couldn't stop running before that so that I didn't have to fight with my dog?

  • I hate people.

  • But I love superhero movies and I dug several out of the bargain bin at WickedMart this morning when I went in to pick up a few things that I forgot yesterday morning. I hadn't realized that I didn't have either of the two newer Batman movies, and they had all three Spiderman movies in the bin, plus a few others. I had been wandering around WM for about ten minutes before I realized I was still wearing sweatpants from walkies becauses I had forgotten to change into my jeans. And then I was embarrassed, but really, my paint-stained sweatpants aren't any worse than that woman over there's pajama pants. At least you can tell from the paint marks that I probably didn't just roll out of bed.

  • I was going to spend all day watching movies because it was supposed to rain today, but it's brightly sunny out there and I just checked the weather map and there's no green (i. e., rain) on it between here and Cleveland. The nearest rain is still on the far side of Lake Erie, so I don't think it's likely to get here until this evening.

  • (Having actually typed that, I have probably doomed us to deluges and floods.)

  • I was awakened this morning by my neighbor's yappy dog living up to his name under my bedroom window. As I lay there wondering whether I could actually get back to sleep or not, since I was up later than normal last evening, I heard a short, sharp buzzing noise in the bedroom. I could find no cause for it whatsoever, but I am desperately hoping that it was a huge insect rather than an electrical thing preparing to burn the house down. Could go either way, from the sound.

  • I went to see The Avengers yesterday afternoon. (Yes, that's the third time in a week. It's a good movie, all right?) It occurred to me quite suddenly yesterday afternoon, as I was watching some outtakes from Torchwood on YouTube that Agent Coulson is the same sort of character as Ianto Jones: calm, unassuming, quietly competent, always in the background, but badass when he needs to be.

  • I am not fawning all over my mother today. I don't believe in it. I did send a card, but she won't get it until tomorrow.

  • I keep thinking that since it's a nice day, I should be out taking pictures, but I'm not sure where to go. Though...I suppose I could try to figure out how to get into those wetlands near the expressway and see if I could get shots of the eagle-nesting platform. Probably not any good ones, though.
malinaldarose: (Default)
I am...not in a good mood today. Yes, it's Saturday and I don't have to go to That Place or put up with Those People. But I have so much to do that I might just as well (I'd get more done if I could just go in on Saturday and WORK, instead of having to answer phones and stupid questions and deal with people who come to the wrong building for their appointments). I am feeling very much abused by the universe right now.

And I don't feel good, either.

Today I have to:
  • mow the lawn
  • do laundry
  • vacuum
  • change kitty litter
  • write checks
  • balance the checkbook
  • get gas
  • get groceries
  • get a start on organizaing for a yard sale next weekend -- or give it up as a bad job
  • fix the mess I made in the library while I was fixing the mess in the backroom
  • etc.


I don't want to do any of it, of course, but the regular Saturday chores and the lawn must be attended to, especially the lawn, since this is the last sunny day in the forecast until the end of next week.
---
Still no word from the travel agent on whether or not we can get our $300 change of flight fees back. At this point, I think I'd be happier if she could just upgrade our seats. I am SO not looking forward to nine or ten hours in a flying metal tube. I think when BFT and I go to France in a couple of years, we'll pay extra up front.
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Grama was discharged from the hospital yesterday. And there was much rejoicing. (Actually, I'll bet there was a great deal of complaining and swearing.) Any second now, I will get an email from my mother telling me to contact Patient Portals and make sure that the television in that room is no longer being charged to my credit card. (Except that there doesn't seem to be any way of contacting them except from the room.

Any second now, I will also get an email from my mother asking if I want to go garage sale-ing with them in five minutes, because she will not use the telephone.
---
Speaking of mothers.... I actually remembered to get a Mothers Day card. I even remembered to take it out of my purse, stuff it in the envelope and address it. And then my mail was delivered an hour earlier than normal and I missed getting it out. So she'll get it Monday, instead of today.
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Not far from my house the main east-west road narrows from four lanes to two. (The road is still pretty much the same width, but the center two lanes become a single left-turn lane.) Yesterday during the lunch rush hour, I was stopped in the right lane at the light before the bottleneck. For reference, it's the left lane that ends. A truck pulled up on my left. When that happens, it means only one thing: they're planning to gun it to get in front. That's exactly what happened. "Asshole," I said conversationally. And then...a different truck came zipping up, passed me in what was now the left turn only lane, passed the guy in front of me -- still in the left turn only lane -- and then cut across in front of our lane and the newly-formed right turn only lane at the entrance to the shopping plaza and went into the plaza.

I had rather stronger words for that Accident Causing Person of Dubious Parentage and Sexual Practices. That's the sort of person that one really wants to see wrapped around a phone pole. Unfortunately, they're not usually the ones that get wrapped; it's usually the people trying to avoid their stupidity.

The fact that Wal-Mart is the main thing in that plaza is probably only a coincidence.
---
Maybe I'll go see The Avengers again this afternoon.
malinaldarose: (Default)
I am aggravated this morning by my grocery store. Several years ago, they put in gas pumps, which caused a huge hue-and-cry -- the world was going to end because of the underground storage tanks, the whole western end of the town was going to blow up, zOMG think of the elderly people at the neighboring nursing home, etc. Funny how people came 'round once the pumps were actually operational and you could earn "gas points" to get a reduced price on a tank of gas. But that's not what's aggravating me this morning. What's aggravating me is that they used to have free air, even when everywhere else in town charged seventy-five cents for a minute (or possibly three minutes). My new van has a tire-pressure sensor, apparently, because I've been nagged lately by a low-tire alert -- an idiot light on the dash. I thought when I got a new van, I was going to stop being plagued by idiot lights. So I checked the tires this morning and they're all a few pounds below optimum pressure -- but not enough, in my opinion, to warrant an idiot light. Since I had to go to the grocery store, anyway, I figured I'd top them up there...except that the air is no longer free. They're charging $1.00 for it now. That dollar is supposed to be going to a charity for children (and we all know how I feel about children!) which is all well and good, but I would really rather prefer to choose my own charities to which to donate (say, for little old ladies who were run down in the parking lot of the medical group while minding their own business and in a cross walk), and not be forced to donate money to a charity of some corporate moron's choosing. Thanks, but no thanks. I'll just go to the gas station around the corner which has always charged for air, which seems more honest to me. Or maybe I'll get Friend P to come down and show me how to use the air compressor that HTWIWM built into the garage (and therefore left behind because it was too much trouble to tear out again) to refill the small air bottle that HTWIWM inexplicably left behind (seems to me that would be something he'd absolutely want because it's such a useful little thing; and it's not like he forgot it because it has always lived right next to the laundry room door which is the main door to the house)...and then maybe I can start charging my friends and neighbors $1.00 for air and build my retirement fund.

Speaking of a charity for little old ladies who were run down in the parking lot of the medical group while minding their own business and in a cross walk, I just spent about $30 on magazines for Grama, as well as cleaning out my own stash of Smithsonians, National Geographics, and Victorias. I also snagged a couple of biographies and The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency from my shelves to take over later. I'd take her an early Aunt Dimity book because I know she likes them and has only read the first couple, but I think she'd have trouble with the paperbacks right now because of the thick bandages on her left thumb and pinky (which still have stitches in them). I got to the hospital last evening to find that her television had been turned off first thing in the morning, even though my parents had paid to have it on through today, so she'd been staring at the damned wall all afternoon because her daily visitors hadn't started yet and she didn't have anything else to do. I was vastly annoyed. I did try to get it turned back on, but the extremely elderly woman in the gift shop -- after thanking me for looking after my grandmother -- regretfully informed me that only the morning staff knew how to turn on televisions. The afternoon staff has asked to be trained, but they've been refused, and it's a terrible thing.... It's a fairly useless gift shop; no books, no magazines, nothing to take to a patient to help them stay occupied. Of course, now that I've got all this stuff for her, Gram'll be released tomorrow.

Which is okay, too, but I don't think will happen. They're working her hard in PT, and they're working both legs, but they won't let her go until her right leg is up to the task of taking her where she needs to go, because her left leg is unreliable. When she had her hip replacement three years ago, they severed a (the?) nerve in her left leg and she can no longer feel her left foot. So she doesn't know where it is most of the time. So...she sort of needs her right leg to be reliable.

I went over there directly after work last night (I get out at 4:00) and it was almost 8:00 p.m. by the time I left. I just couldn't leave her sitting there staring at the wall again. But that's okay, because we had a great conversation, and I enjoyed it immensely. And so did Gram. So it's all good. I did leave when my parents finally showed up; Dad was already getting on the phone to the TV people. I should've just given 'em my credit card number and had it charged to me (which is what I was trying to do at the gift shop), but Dad was right; there was still money on the gift card they were using, so the television shouldn't have been shut off yesterday. (My parents don't have any credit cards right now, so they keep putting money on this gift card, but the TV keeps getting shut off prematurely.)
malinaldarose: (Default)
...and none too soon, either.

For With An Eye, it ended with a screaming match with that same attorney for the elderly who so adroitly played me a few months back. He seemed to think she was going to reopen a case that had been closed three months ago just because he didn't like the wording on a state generated letter. In that case, he'd better take it up with the state, not the local worker. He had the nerve to tell her that he knew that we were all new (meaning the workers in my unit), and to imply thereby that he knew the law better than we did. Except...the wording on the back of our letters is fair hearing information and it's standard. Every letter for every unit bears the exact same information on the back. So it doesn't matter that we're new to this particular unit; not a single one of us has less than fifteen years' experience in the agency itself.

And his final insult came when With An Eye told him that if he didn't believe what she had to tell him, then she'd transfer him to Grandsupervisor and he could deal with her. "And how long has this [Grandsupervisor's Name] been there?" he asked, as if she, too, were new -- and as if he had never dealt with her before, which is patently impossible. Honestly, just hearing her half of the conversation, and then what she filled in later, made me angry, too.

Retiree R was right, after all: He's an asshole.

A few days ago, I ordered some shoes and a pair of pants from Lands End, all from the clearance shop. I wanted to see if they'd be suitable for the trip. I think the shoes might work...at least for strolling through airports and sitting on a plane, but it's rather hard to tell because they run at least half a size too small, so I'm going to have to send them back tomorrow and exchange them. The pants are just shy of perfect, at least for work. I don't think they're the miracle of unwrinkleyness that I took them for -- considering how badly wrinkled they are from shipping, but they might do, especially if there are capris in the same line (and there are almost certain to be).

Speaking of shoes, I stopped at the Last Real Shoe Store in town yesterday afternoon. I was not particularly impressed, but I did try on a few pairs of Clarks. They do seem to run short (either that or my feet have suddenly grown freakishly long), as people on the website were commenting. But the prices! Holy cow. One pair that I admired was $143.00, and they're not all that much less expensive on eBay. I seem to recall that one of the Clone Shops in the mall carries relatively decent shoes, though, so I will perhaps stop up there tomorrow morning (before the crowds descend...I hope). It seems like a no-brainer to buy nice shoes in Italy, but I have to get there with something on my feet, too, and it has to be decent in case I don't find shoes that I like. (Are those gasps of horror I hear from the better-traveled among us?)

I suppose in addition to a list of things that I need to get in order to go, I need to make a list of things I need to bring back for people....

This unseasonable weather is supposed to break tonight and it's supposed to be more normal next week with temps in the 40s and 50s instead of reaching 80. I will miss the warmth, but maybe the grass will slow down a bit and give me a chance to get the lawnmower(s) repaired.
malinaldarose: (Default)
I've spent a good chunk of the day concentrating on getting another sign done (much to Teddy-Next-Door's delight, as the window in which my art desk is situated is the one under which he barks when he is out) and I have reached a point where I have to wait for parts of it to dry before I can finish it off. So now I'm wandering around the house trying to figure out what to do next. There are plenty of things I could be doing, but none of them sound appealing.

I should probably get outside into the gorgeous day, but I don't feel like doing that, either. (I should at least take Sheila for a walk, but lots of other people seem to have the same idea and I don't feel like dealing with my poorly-behaved dog and their poorly-behaved dog, too. I could go outside and start cleaning up the backyard...but...ugh. Hm. Maybe if it's not too breezy, I could start a fire and burn some stuff....

I am being both vastly amused and vastly annoyed by Other People today. There are a couple of people that I know else'net who are annoying the ever-living shit out of me, one of whom just attempted to become my fre-yend on Facebook. I squashed that one; not only do I have no interest in being friends with this person, I actively dislike him/her. The one that is vastly amusing me is an old friend, about the only person I actually chat with on FB, who has started, if he is online when I log on, immediately logging off. It happens far too often to be coincidence, and yet it amuses me more than it annoys me...though if it catches me in the right mood, it goes beyond annoyance straight to anger. Honestly, if you don't want to chat, just tell me. I'm a big girl; I can take it.

Blah. Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.
malinaldarose: (bra'tac explanation)
Case in point: The woman behind me in line at the grocery store who, when I was giving the elderly gent in front of me a polite amount of space, started putting her items onto the end of the belt anyway, and when I still refused to move forward, started tossing them past me, and when I yet failed to crawl into his back pocket said, in as snippy a tone as she could manage, "Would you move up a bit, please?"

Did I truly have the basilisk glare that my Latin professor once accused me of, there would be a fresh corpse decorating the register area at Tops.

But honestly? Where the hell did she think she was going to go? The person in front of me was still checking out, and she wasn't going to get there any faster by being as rude to me as I was trying to be polite to him. I fully expected her to ram her cart into my side while I was putting my change in my wallet, but she was still hauling things out of her cart. The thing is, she's probably complaining to her family right this instant about that rude bitch at the grocery store who wouldn't let her get to the belt and then stared at her....

I hate people.
malinaldarose: (Default)
Yesterday was not such a hot day. I had workplace violence training at the main office and it was a total fiasco that left me furious and shaking. A complaint was made in the midst of the training (it was a makeup session with only ten attendees), and rather than tabling it for later, followup was had right then and there. There were nine people too many in the room for that, and it was chewed over by the entire room for forty-five minutes and included not only violations of confidentiality, but of HIPAA (the whole room, for instance, should never have known about this, and we certainly should not have known that the person being complained about -- another county employee -- was involved with CPS (even if only peripherally), nor that s/he had had a psych eval on their orders). The trainer, who was the person to whom such complaints are supposed to be made, should have known better. It got to the point where I was finally angry enough to loudly proclaim that this was completely inappropriate for a training session. The single supervisor in the room, and the trainer, both said "Well, you all know that this is confidential, right?" but since they said it to two of the biggest gossips in the office, no doubt the whole thing was all over the agency within fifteen minutes of the end of the training -- including that I complained that they were even discussing it.

Scurried home from work, finished mulching the leaves before dark, went to the pathetic excuse for a bookstore in the mall, then out to dinner. Got home in time for Criminal Minds. No sign at all of my parents, which is really quite surprising.

And so I turned 44. Whee.

Today, I got another thing or three done at work -- which is good, since this is a short month; we have to have our monthly work done by the 18th, and I will be out of the office all day on the 9th (squishygram) and we have the 11th off. I suspect I'm going to be putting my recerts through this month without necessarily having all the information I normally would send for.

This afternoon, I was surprised and, frankly, gratified that my former partner dropped by to bring me a birthday card and a box of Raisinets. I haven't seen her in a few months, since right after the caseload changeover, in fact, and we spent about an hour and a half chatting. I was really happy to see her; since she retired, I have had this nagging feeling that maybe she was always nice to me just because she was a nice person, not because she really liked me, but it seems I was wrong. (I know: insecure much?) Later in the month, it will be my turn to send her a birthday card with a small bag of Swedish Fish.

I was very much annoyed this evening to approach the fenced yard on the corner with Sheila to see it overrun with small children and to hear squeals of "Oooo! Doggy!" A girl-child of approximately six came running out the gate, demanding to know if she could pet my dog. "No!" I snarled. "You may not!" She was plainly surprised that I would not allow it, but I don't actually care. I've never seen Sheila around kids, and while she would in all probability be fine with letting this urchin maul her, I wasn't about to find out. Nor should the child be allowed to just run up to strange dogs, so I was even more annoyed by the whole episode when I spotted the supposedly responsible adult nearby not paying any attention to the fact that this child nearly ran right into the road at us.

And my phone is ringing. Why is my phone ringing? Ah...Grama was afraid I didn't get her card because she tucked money into it.

Right. I'm going to go read. Or watch a movie. Or something.
malinaldarose: (Default)
Do I have a sign on the front of my house that says "Stop on by out of the blue and ask me to give you my stuff"?
malinaldarose: (Default)
  • Right. It is time to put a sign on the dash of the silver van that says, "No, it is not for sale. It is especially not for sale to those people who stop out of the blue as they're driving by and think I'm just going to give it to them for a couple of bucks." The dogs started raising a ruckus, I peered out the front door to see a pickup parked in the driveway, peered out the back door to see a shaven-headed fellow pressing the doorbell button (the doorbell is lying on a desk in the basement) for probably the second time (judging by how long the dogs had been barking) and went back to washing the dishes.


  • Maybe I should just put a sign on the front door that says NO -- and leave it at that.


  • I did not sleep again last night, and around 11:30, Merlin decided that he needed to be in the bedroom Right This Fucking Instant, If You Please and started meowdeling at the door. Which earned him some harsh words and a soaking from Mr. Squirt Bottle, but did not change his mind. So I let him in, let him charge under the bed, then chased him out again. And then I had to go downstairs and play Solitaire for a while until my eyes, at least, decided that they were ready to try this whole sleeping thing again.


  • I feel like a Bad Pagan because I do not feel like going out into the backyard and celebrating the Solstice with a fire in my firepit. I'm just too tired. And it's too humid for a fire to be comfortable.


  • I was annoyed to have to cancel my gyn appointment two hours before it was scheduled today... Stupid reproductive system. Would someone lend me the damned spork, please?


  • That did mean, however, that I got to stay at work this afternoon...which was desperately needed, as I've been coaching others at the expense of my own work. As it is, I feel like I'm spending more time than I should on the work that I know how to do and neglecting the nursing home cases because I do not know how to do them.


  • Tomorrow, we have Workplace Violence training. This is a good thing, as there is not nearly enough violence in my workplace.


  • Also tomorrow is the postponed shire meeting with spring elections. I expect to come away once more seneschal. Yippee? I wonder if I should work up a meeting agenda just in case they expect me to take over right away. (That's probably not actually a bad idea; I can always keep it to myself if I lose, but honestly, I don't think the Other Candidate is likely to win.)


  • My sister is on her way, and may arrive sometime tomorrow. She has, in fact, just posted a photo of her son sitting in the back of her vehicle, so she has hit Georgia. Let the avoidance begin. Actually, I probably won't try to avoid them; I don't have the energy.


  • I'm not sure I have brain enough for the reading I want to do this evening. Hell, I'm not sure I have brain enough to watch an episode of NCIS that I've already seen.
malinaldarose: (Default)
All of the articles I have seen about Arnold Schwarzenegger's child with his former housekeeper (which is not, granted, very many, 'cause I don't actually give a flying rat's ass) carefully point out that they are not identifying the child. However, his mother's name is right out there for all the world to see, and the article I just read was basically an interview with the next-door neighbor (also named, as is the street on which they live) about what a delightful child he is.

Ya know, I think people just might be able to figure out the kid's name from those rather broad clues....

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