caerula's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- the return of the queen Today we bring you the Return to the Land of Passive Aggression. I thought she wasn't coming back until tomorrow, but I was wrong. And the first thing I get (after my requisite New Orleans souvenir, Mardi Gras beads, for which I did NOT have to take my top off) is "oh, you're not done with that YET?" Arghhood. I am very tired today. Went to bed far too late last night and had to get up an hour early so I could be at physical therapy by 7:45. Of course I didn't actually make it by then; I had to leave the house theoretically at 7:15 to drop YMB off at my mom's, and he was being unusually uncooperative. Then he fibbed about having given Sophie water and a treat when he put her in her crate, and I got really mad and yelled at him. Then I felt bad for yelling, but was still mad, considering we've had problems with these little fibs before and I specifically said, "Are you sure you checked? If I go in there will she have food and water?" and he looked straight at me and said yes. Like it wasn't going to take me two seconds to go check and see if he was telling the truth. I really don't know what to do to break this fibbing thing. It drives me nuts. So, we were already running late, and there was traffic, and then I couldn't find the right room in the building � it's one of those huge medical office complexes, all very confusing. And because I'd been in such a rush and so annoyed this morning, I realized when I got there that I'd walked out without my purse, so I didn't have my insurance card or the doctor's orders. So my therapist person did an evaluation but couldn't start any treatment since I didn't have the stuff from the doctor. Arghhood. My therapist is this cutsey little skinny girl named Leah. She's probably younger then me, and was trendily dressed and a bit intimidating. But she seemed nice, and was understanding of the fact that I was having a really bad morning. After that I scrounged in the car for change so I could stop at Starbucks and get something for breakfast. They were all out of honey wheat bagels, so I was stuck with a cinnamon raison one, which is not my favorite. And I didn't have enough change for an almond steamer. And then the pierced and trendy cashier was all rude. Gah. So I finally made it to work, only 20 minutes late, only to be greeted by, yup, the Queen of Passive Aggression. Argh. I have to go back to work now. I'm scared she'll catch me with a non-work-related window open and flog me. 11:10 a.m. - January 23, 2002 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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