Rather than trying to force some sort of coherent, logical post, I’m going rogue on you guys. Stream of Consciousness old school type stuff.
Work is awesome right now. I’ve got a new office mate who doesn’t bug me in the least. She’s rather quiet, but not an introvert, she’s funny, and she’s doing a good job. I hope she feels the same about sharing an office with me. I laughed at her the other day, and I don’t think she took too much offense. At least I hope not. She calls the refrigerator the “Frigidaire”, without regard of the actual make, model, etc. You know how some people call it the “Frig”, or the “Icebox”, well, she just calls it the Frigidaire. Funny. Or not. But at that moment it struck me as hilarious. Maybe if she were writing a blog post today it would be entitled, “That bitch I share an office with.” But, we are friends on Facebook, so if she talks about me I’ll know about it. But I think we are cool.
The homestead is same ol’ same ol’ right now. I worry about Little B and school starting…he’s totally self-absorbed at this moment, and the stresses of getting through a day of school is going to be a lot for him to handle. Another co-worker mentioned that the “structure” of school starting back up could actually be a good thing, and I hadn’t even considered that. So, I’m going to focus on that instead. Little A has been going to the Y for the past 4 weeks or so, and she’s so much better for it. She’s stopped mimicking Little B’s behaviors and anger issues, which, I must confess, the entire Zohrfamily tends to do if you spend too much time around him. This morning, he wanted to tell me something before I left, which I had to do within the next 16 seconds to be on time to drop Little A off for swimming lessons, and AFTER I had already opened the door and set the alarm, giving him approximately 30 seconds to get his thought out, which he couldn’t do, and so I verbally tried to rush him, which made him made, and he jumped up and down and literally VIBRATED in his frustration, and that was promptly met by an equal amount of frustration out of me, and I actually stomped my foot and shook my hands in the air like a lunatic and told him to “SPIT IT OUT!!” Dumbest. Move. Ever. I had to disable the alarm, follow him down the hallway and sit and apologize and wait for him to tell me what he wanted to tell me. Which was, “Please use those quarters I gave you last night to buy me a toy today.” There. Was that so hard? No. Patience is a virtue, Zohrbak. Get that tattooed on your hand so you can see it when you make a fist toward the sky and begin to lose your cool. Dummy. Try to remember that you are the adult, and if you can’t control yourself, why do you expect him to? Crazy person.
Ocho, or Ocho Pendejo as she is formally named, has an injury to one of her front legs, and is cohabitating with the Zohrfamily until she’s healed up. She’s the Queen of the house right now. She loves getting the dogs riled up and then getting up high off the floor so that they can’t get to her. She’s calm and passive, but Little A got a little too close to her wound last night, so she calmly turned her head, and bit her softly on the hand. I watched the whole thing. Little A cried, mostly because Ocho hurt her feelings, but I explained that the cat can’t say, “Watch the arm, kid!” and so she just told her to watch it in the only language she knows. Little A didn’t buy it, but it’s exactly what happened. That cat ain’t no dummy.
Big E has incurred a $150 cell phone bill for texting some person in Finland. The only information he offered up is that it’s a “friend who just moved back to Finland”. Oh. Really? Guess who’s no longer your friend? And there goes nearly a whole week’s work to pay the bill. I’m sad to tell you that the friendship met its demise promptly at 1:37 p.m. Central Time yesterday. So much for sending him to Finland on some sort of Foreign Exchange Student thing. Glad you have friends, buddy, but how ’bout we start with someone who, oh, I don’t know, lives in the same zip code as you, huh? Huh?!
I had a meeting with the support group I joined for local mothers of Autistic children last Friday. On the way there, I was listening to a local radio station, and an ad ran that started with come out for “Boobs and Botox!”….which got my attention and I had to turn it up. “The NERVE!” I thought aloud, to myself, alone in my car. “Oh my God! This must be like some sort of plastic surgeon seminar or something!” I couldn’t believe the lack of class and taste in naming an event something like that! I spent the entire 30 second spot talking out loud over the commercial about what an outrage it was. Then, at the end, they said it again. “Come out and support ‘Boots and Bowties’.” Oh. Okay. My bad then. The actual meeting was awesome. The women are all so real and funny and easy to talk to. We laughed and cried (only when we laughed so hard it made us cry) and talked and hooted and hollered. It was awesome. I loves those guys.
Have a good Thursday, everyone. I’ll tell you about my falling down in the grocery store parking lot in front of God and everybody some other time. My ego is still too bruised to discuss it.