don't frustrate the bug...she can rant FOREVER.

As is coffee.

I just set my alarms for the morning. Soooo early. But I start physical therapy so I shall pause my rant til tomorrow when I can also whine about the (good and helpful) paaaaaaaain.

don't frustrate the bug...she can rant FOREVER.

vw, you're related to my husband?

After recommending the funky pillow to Cindy, I just tried mine with the big lump under my neck (after a couple years of little-lump-under-neck) and think I like it this way better. d, were you the one who suggested that?

vw, you're related to my husband?

I don't think so, but maybe.

In my defense, I think he's expecting it, since I ranted in my class on Friday. Plus, he has already gotten a paper from me that started with, "I hated this assignment." This one starts with three pages of explanation on how I've already learned what he's trying to teach us. Then I spend two pages on the assignment.

Anyone know where I can get a cheap but serviceable version of the Amazing Pillow? My neck wants one, but my wallet doesn't.

Ok, Plei, what is black treacle since it isn't blackstrap molasses?

It's something almost identical in taste to blackstrap.

The DH is ranting RIGHT NOW at his classmates, out of sheer frustration. In his case, it's not the professor that is frustrating him, but the other folks in his group project. I think he's written more than all the other group-mates combined as a result.

Moral: No matter how old you get, graded group projects still suck.

This one starts with three pages of explanation on how I've already learned what he's trying to teach us. Then I spend two pages on the assignment.

Heh.

Huh. I seem to have blanked that out entirely.

We are as one Sean, except I don't have all the pot smoking as an excuse.

After recommending the funky pillow to Cindy, I just tried mine with the big lump under my neck (after a couple years of little-lump-under-neck) and think I like it this way better. d, were you the one who suggested that?

With a pillow case over it, I have a hard time telling which lump is bigger, so I'm turning it a different way as often as not. Something happened last night while I was sleeping though, because my lower back started acting up. It got better when I got up, but when I was in church, my neck was not happy with me. I've had a few days of comfort though, and even today's is more discomfort than pain. I suspect it was just sitting still for so long that bothered me. The more I'm up and around, the better my neck is.

We are as one Sean, except I don't have all the pot smoking as an excuse.

Hee.

Moral: No matter how old you get, graded group projects still suck.

Oh, I HATE graded group work. I think group stuff is important, 'cause you can bounce ideas off each other, but someone always ends up getting screwed when you stick a grade in there.

I'm really dreading a pair project in my Computers and Humans class this semester. I'm hoping I can convince this one guy to be my partner. Otherwise, it's gonna be AWFUL. The class is filled with stupid people. And I'm not exaggerating, unfortunately.

I think group projects in school are unkind. Now granted, people do have to work as a group in the workplace, so it's probably good training. But group projects really just serve as punishment for the smart, responsible student. That person will get plenty of punishment in the workplace, and ought to be able to miss out on it at school.

Hee.

Just say, "No," Sean. Just say, "No."

Seriously, about that topic yesterday, I have a few near and dears who do smoke. I do not think there's anything worse about it than having a few beers.

It's totally personal and irrational (on my part). When they get high, I want to slap them. It's a totally irrational reaction. I feel like they've lost their smarts. This happens to me when certain people have a drink too many, too, despite the fact that I will drink, and have had a few too many myself, on occasion (although hardly ever since becoming a parent, because who wants to deal with kids when hungover?). I suspect my reaction to friends-who-smoke-pot has its roots in my father's drinking.