caerula's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- observations and developments Observations from a Wednesday morning commute: People who have stickers on their car depicting Calvin peeing on the Chevy symbol, Ford symbol, their ex-wife, Osama, whoever, should be condemned to spend eternity getting peed on by an annoying little red-headed boy. Or perhaps by their ex-wife. Why is it that driving on I94 suddenly causes everyone behind the wheel to completely lose their wits? Yesterday traffic was held up by a seven-car fender bender. And today I was 15 minutes late to work (duly noted by GB) because of a four mile stop-and-go backup caused, apparently, by a van off the side of the road and a police SUV behind it with its lights going. Oh yeah, that's worth slowing down to look at. Why is the one mailbox that is actually not out of my way on the drive to work so frickin' hard to get to? Getting access to it involves a turn-around, complex curb maneuvering, and then having to get out of the car to mail your items all the while hoping no one driving down the street hits you or your car during the process. What do people thinking writing "wash me" on the back of a dirty 18-wheeler actually accomplishes? Besides annoying the person stuck behind said truck? I really don't mind the little American flag stickers and things. But some of the stuff people have come up with is truly bizarre. I don't need to see entire back window plastered red white and blue, or giant "God Bless America" signs. To say nothing of plastic canvas-stitched American Flags attached to antennae, or a bumper sticker telling us to kill Osama. There is something fundamentally wrong about being employed by a place that has more employees than it does parking spots. Again I am forced to park on the curb, hoping that during the eight hours my pretty little Saturn is perched there that no one sideswipes it trying to maneuver their own vehicle into a curbside space. End of commute observations. Begin workday observations. So finally I get in the building, after all this, and stop off at the lunch room in the vain hope that the soda machine closest to my cube will have been refilled. Nope. So I'm 15 minutes late reaching my desk, and am halted not two feet from safety by the appearance of GB, making noises about me being "later than usual." Aargh. But, the lack of appropriate caffeinated beverage in the closer soda machine means a trek to the other side of the building and the far away vending machines, where I make the exciting discovery that the people on that side of the building have Skittles in their candy machine. We on this side don't rate Skittles. What's that about? Of course I'd only brought enough change to buy my bottle of pop, so if the lure of Skittles gets to be too much I'll have to round up 60 cents and trudge all the way back over there for some. Perhaps the exercise will negate the calories. One can only hope. I have that icky sinus infection feeling in my face this morning. I hope it doesn't get any worse than it is right now. I traditionally get sick for my birthday (day after tomorrow, in case you were wondering), so it's par for the course, but it's something I really don't need right now. One year at my birthday I had walking pneumonia, another year bronchitis, and so on. Last year at this time I was having daily panic attacks so severe I couldn't leave the house. So I guess I could deal with a sinus infection. But still, it would be nice to be healthy for once. Emotionally and physically. Poor YMB is at the dentist this morning with Blue. He has really bad teeth � genetically weak, I mean, not bad like a "Deliverance" cast member or an English person � and he's had two abscesses in the last few months. This morning the dentist is pulling his two worst baby teeth, one molar on each side of his mouth, and putting spacers in. Poor guy is terrified. He has the worst time at the dentist. I don't know if his old dentist was mean, or if he had a traumatic dental experience when he was little, or if the Dementors never took him to the dentist, or what. But this normally easy-going kid turns into a bundle of nerves at the prospect of a dental visit. And this is a kid who sailed through 11 ear surgeries with no problems. So I hope he's doing okay. Poor thing. I imagine he'll be sore tonight. In other YMB news, Blue spoke to Ms. H. yesterday and she completely downplayed the behavioral problems, even though she was concerned enough last week, apparently, to write us a letter along with his report card. Maybe he'd had a bad couple of weeks, and that influenced her judgment. Or maybe Blue wanting to know why, if this is such a problem, we haven't heard about it before now made her rethink the severity of the problem. Or maybe she just backed down in the face of an actual parent. Who knows. We know YMB is still having adjustment issues; we've only had a year to counteract his previous seven, after all, and it's not like an overnight thing. So we'll continue to keep on eye on him, and encourage him to talk to us whenever possible, and try not to worry too much about school stuff. My goal for tonight is to finish at least one more quilt block, and find my new cross-stitch patterns so I can get started on that. If I accomplish these things, I will be happy. And if I have extra energy, I'll continue organizing our book sale inventory on the shelves I cleared last night just for that purpose. Hey, I have cataloging work to do! Something that fits my job description! Something that couldn't be done just as well by a literate monkey or seven-year-old! So I'm gonna go do some work! (A bit later) Ooh, and this is good stuff. American periodicals 1741-1900. Film and catalog records. Comparing, checking, correcting, looking for missing items. I realize most of you wouldn't find this in the least exciting, but if you'd been spending the past three months proofing catalog records for early English books apparently created by someone who was NOT apparently up to the level of either a literate monkey or a seven-year-old, you'd be happy too. And I get to sit in on a meeting about it later on today, and be all knowledgeable as the only cataloger there. Too bad I'm wearing my Winnie-the-Pooh sweatshirt. This may not inspire confidence. Sigh. Back to work. 10:41 a.m. - February 06, 2002 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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