Le Sigh…

Last Sunday night I was on call (just like every Sunday night),  I got called in to do a case that ended up taking all of 45 minutes, tops.  Unfortunately on the way in to the parking lot at the hospital I hit a patch of black ice and slid into the curb resulting in a bent wheel, a mysterious (and unpleasant) rubbing noise with any and all forward motion and a suspicious vibration in the steering wheel (again, with any forward motion).

I limped the car back towards home and called Sean asking that he just meet me at Big O, that car wasn’t going anywhere until it was fixed.

One day and $700 later it was fixed, making last Sunday night the most expensive call shift I’ve ever worked.


I do not understand why, or indeed how, people persist in having bunches of children.  It seems to me that at some point you reach a kind of critical mass.  And after that point it is impossible to even entertain the idea of having any more not to mention the fact that there are too many children around, and at all hours, for a couple to even be able to do what would be necessary to do in order to have some more.  (I may be sharing a little too much here.)  And for us that point seems to be four.

Game over.

PS.  I do not want to hear about how your critical mass is different than my critical mass or about how you never had a kid make a lake out of your kitchen twice in one day or about how toddlers are so cute or about any of that crap.  Just keep it to yourself ok?  In fact, there, I turned off the comments.  Just go about your business, this misery doesn’t want company, I just want to sit in my corner and howl at the moon.  Now go away.  And take my kids with you.

The Verdict

The committee meeting to decide about our appeal of Sean’s lack of pay while recovering from surgery was Wednesday.  As far as I can tell it went a lot like this:

Of course in this case it’s the employee not the customer but well, the sentiment still applies.

PS. I just love DespairInc.  Don’t you?

This Is Not a Public Service Announcement

See, I just entered and give-away.  I don’t usually bother but they’re giving away some cool stuff and I figured why not?  Right?  And I get another entry  if I blog about it and post a link.  So I’m doing it.  But really I’d prefer it if you didn’t follow the link and if you didn’t enter and if you stayed far far away.  Because, let’s face it, the more people who enter the less chance I have of winning.  So I’m not going to act all nice and sharing and all that crap and tell you that you all ought to head over so that you can have a chance to win.  Seriously, stay away.

There’s more that I should blog about, I have several posts rattling around in my head but I’m grumpy and I don’t feel like it so I’m going to post this video instead for any of you who live under a rock and haven’t seen it yet. And while I’m at it can I just say that I’m pretty new to the whole Buffy phenomenon (well, that’s not technically true I’ve been a fan of the movie for years but I’ve just started on the show) so I didn’t really know her story (particularly in regards to Angel) but can someone please explain HOW SOMEONE WHO KNOWS ANYTHING ABOUT BUFFY COULD THINK THAT TWILIGHT WAS AT ALL NEW or even particularly interesting?  There’s even an episode where Buffy can read everyone’s thoughts except for Angel’s!  Talk about taking a story that was interesting, switching a few parts around and calling it new.  (In her defense, it’s my understanding that Stephanie Meyer never watched Buffy.  I’m not saying that she stole the idea or plagiarized or anything nefarious, I just don’t understand the phenomena.  (And I should be so lucky as to have an old idea hit like hers did.))  I guess it’ just goes to show that there really is “nothing new under the sun,” see kids, the bible’s right after all.

Oh and head on over to Mormon Mommy Blogs and enter the give away, there’s lots of good stuff going.

I’m Just … GRUMPY

I don’t feel like blogging.

I’ve still been posting about as often as I usually do.  And if you have a blog, I’ve still been reading, I just can’t bring myself to comment.  Because I don’t feel like it.  I don’t feel like talking and I don’t feel like making small talk and, sadly, I don’t feel like telling you that you’re funny (although you are) or that you’re smart (you’re that too) or that you’re so right (but I mean, obviously) I’m just too grumpy to do it.

Does that make me a bad person?

And then there’s the fact that my computer,Rufus, is freaking out and randomly clicking for me so if I leave the mouse somewhere other than at the end of the line I end up with sentences that look like this: not that th o read, see?  ere’s anything wrong with that but it does make them kind of hard t (of course when I let it go to write that sentence stupid Rufus behaved so it almost didn’t jump at all (actually it did randomly erase the whole paragraph but I couldn’t just leave it like that because it doesn’t make a lot of sense without the beginning of the paragraph) but then it did. Phew!)

And tonight I was going to put together the final kitchen post but my stupid camera is going through batteries like John Mayer goes through starlets so when I pulled it out it just turned itself off.  So I couldn’t take the necessary pictures so now you don’t get that post.  Yet.

“Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow…”

Maybe it’s the stupid cold, I’m tired of the cold.  Or maybe it’s the fact that the kids are off track, stupid year round school.  Or maybe it’s the never ending list of crap that needs to be done around the house (Kitchen’s done, yeah yeah yeah, but I still have to replace the window and build the desk and then there’s the living room…) Or maybe it’s just that I’m not that nice of a person after all.

Who knows?

I had a dream about an old boyfriend the other night.  It was super vivid and it really made me want to talk to him.  But he isn’t returning my emails so I guess that won’t happen.  Stupid ex-boyfriend.

I did the taxes a couple weeks ago.  When you have four kids and you make fifty cents an hour, doing the taxes is like winning the lottery (a small lottery but still).   That should make me happy.  Meh.

Don’t mind me, I’m fine, talk amongst yourselves.  I’ll be back with a more cheerful post or a meme or a report on the kitchen tomorrow.

It’s That Day Again

Also known as that day, and that day, oh and that day.

How sad is it when I’m depressed about the fact that I’m depressed about  the same things at the same time every month?

In case you missed it, and you’re too lazy to follow the links, here’s a (by no means exhaustive) list of thiings that I’m depressed about today:

  • The squalid state of my house.
  • The laziness and disobedience of my children.
  • The cold that prevented my breathing for the better portion of the night.
  • The lack of sleep resultant from the lack of my sleeping for the better portion of the night.
  • It’s COLD.
  • The fact that I can’t let my children suffer the natural consequences of wasting time and not getting lunches made this morning.  (See here and here for details.)
  • I took this week off from work and the week’s almost over.
  • A complete lack of Christmas cheer.
  • There’s still tile on my kitchen floor.
  • I took this week off from work and blogged LESS than I usually do.
  • That this is in fact my life and I’m missing it.

But hey, my kitchen walls should be ready to pain in a week or so.

Alison Wonderland and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day(s)

Alternate title:  Best Week Ever!

I went to work as usual Tuesday night.  It was an average night, not too busy, not too slow and fairly early on when I had a minute I checked my work email.  And that’s when the crap started.

I had a message in there form my boss about a case that I helped out with (that I didn’t tell you about because I would never tell you about cases that I helped out with because that would be a HIPPA violation and I want to keep my job).  The email wasn’t actually about the case itself but about some staffing and other issues that we had during and just after.  Explaining would take a lot longer than either you or I am interested in spending here and it’s not very interesting but long story short, I felt like I was being called lazy and incompetent. (Again, these were not issues relating to patient care, I just want to make that clear.  Neither I nor anyone I work with messes around with anything that could potentially harm or even inconvenience a patient.)  Some of the things I was accused of I had in fact done but for reasons that I still find … reasonable and some of the things I was accused of were patently untrue.

Now I don’t get mad often.  Not really mad.  I get annoyed, I may even rant and rave a bit but it takes quite a bit to really make me mad.  Before I was even done reading the email, I was mad.  Really mad.  And it got worse the more I read.

It took me a good two hours to calm down enough to even write a response.  I did and sent it off.  It was probably a really good thing that we didn’t really have any cases that night and by morning I was too tired to care anymore. (Partially just because I was tired but also because in addition to not getting mad often, I get over it pretty quickly.)  So I went home and went to bed.

I got up at four that afternoon and after a quick shower I headed back to work because not only did I have to work that night I had to be there at 5:30 rather than 7:00 for some corporate training. (I sat there for an hour and a half and I got “say hello to your patients when they come in the room” out of it.  It was awesome!) Then I worked my normal twelve hour shift (not the worst shift ever, by a long shot, but I’ve had better).  And then rather than clocking out and going home and going to bed, I got to go teach CPR for another three hours.  So at 10:30 am I finally headed out to my car in the parking garage only to find a parking ticket on it.  Rock On!

I went home and slept form elevenish until about three when I forced myself to get up for reasons that I’ll explain in a minute, after I tell you that at about 4:00 we got a call form the mother of the Pea’s BFF where he was playing that afternoon, that the Pea had hit his head and cut his eye open and it was gaping quite a bit and would probably need stitches and would we like her to bring him home?  Yes, yes we would.  So she did and she was exactly right, it was gaping and it was going to need stitches.

So I went back to my hospital.  Because I just can’t get enough of that place.

At this point I caught some luck because while we were up in the OR (we went there first to try to ease the Pea, who has a tendency towards nervousness, into the idea of being at the hospital) a doctor friend of mine happened by and I got him to sew the Pea up without a three hour wait in the ER.  Ahhh the perks.

Because on the way to the hospital, in an effort to distract the Pea, I had offered him a treat when we were done, we went to the cafeteria where I got a freshly fried corndog (mmmmm, corndog) and we hung out there and ate and then we went home because I had to go to bed because after spending the previous two days and night turning nights into day I now needed to turn nights back into nights because I had to be back to work at 7:00 the next morning.  Luckily sleep deprivation and sleeping pills are now my good friends.

But after working a pretty horrific shift Friday, including some things that are really pretty interesting but I can’t tell you about because even after the week that I had I still want to keep my job I got off half an hour early and despite really horrific traffic I made it to Sampan in reasonable time and I got to meet a lot of fun, interesting women who blog.  So I guess it ended up ok afterall.

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