if you carry something of hers conspicuously

This is why my hubby volunteers to hold my purse while he waits for me. He says it does't look as stalker-ish.

I hate my job today.

I'll scoot over a little and you can join me in the job hating corner. I just spent days negotiating with a fancy hotel and a high falootin' resturant in Santa Monica to satisfy our CEO, for his visit here. And he just cancelled..... thankfully both are so outside my price range I won't ever actually visit either of them, but if I did, I'm sure they'd shoot me on sight.

I'm *this* close to crying. It's a long story, but I'm a partner in this home with my parents. Since I'm the minority partner money-wise, I have very little say in who is hired and what is done. I've been living on this construction site for nearly a year and a half now. When I was employed I couldn't take sick days unless I was on death's door because being at home with the construction was anything but restful. I've had stuff stolen, damaged, etc. etc. by various construction guys and I have no firing or hiring power although who it affects is me and not my parents.

Last week I felt I had to go crash at a friend's place for two days because the stress of being around the rudeness of these guys was just too much. I thought I'd caught a break with this rainy weather because most of the work remaining to be done needs it not to be wet. But I came back from my CMT appointment to find strangers in my house again. I didn't even know they had keys to the new doors. No one bothered to call or email or anything telling me they'd be here. When I talk to my mom about this stuff (she's the one hiring and firing), she has no compassion whatsoever for the amount of disruption in my life.

Anyway, I knew there'd be strings attached with this deal but I never thought it would be as bad as it's been. Had I known, I think I would have remained a renter the rest of my life. At least landlords are required by law to give 24 hours notice before entering your home. The lack of control over my own life is killing me.

Offers Spidra seat on Fate's Bitch bench. Although not feeling it today--have been ego-stroked beyond all capacity.

This definitely counts as giving your all for science:

Sex in an MRI\

We did not foresee that the men would have more problems with sexual performance (maintaining their erection) than the women in the scanner. All the women had a complete sexual response, but they described their orgasm as superficial. Only the first couple was able to perform coitus adequately without sildenafil (experiments 1 and 2). The reason might be that they were the only participants in the real sense: involved in the research right from the beginning because of their scientific curiosity, knowledge of the body, and artistic commitment. And as amateur street acrobats they are trained and used to performing under stress.

Oh Spidra, that sucks. I wish I had a solution for ya. Can you get your mom to come over one day while all the annoying guys are there so she can see? Or do they live too far away?

Betsy - that link does not match the quote. A very interesting disconnect between a smart cooking pan and sex in an MRI.

sorry Spidra. I can kind of feel your pain, I worked for my parents' company for a while and it was a freaking nightmare.

Thanks, erikaj.

Dawn, they live in LA and I'm here in SF. But it wouldn't matter. She absolutely refuses to see it. Her attitude is that all construction guys are the same and that it would happen no matter who they hired and oh well so I've had tools and computer things stolen...how can I be so unreasonable? Shut up and take it. When I was younger, my mom was the more empathetic one of my parents. The tables have completely turned on that one. Unfortunately, my dad isn't really going to risk her wrath by going to bat for me.

I just wish I'd been able to see these things more clearly when I agreed to the house thing. If I had any idea of what I was in for, I would have kept my dignity instead.

And now I think I will have a good cry and put earplugs in and lock my doors (even though these guys have the key) and pretend as hard as I can that it's going away.

How could you possibly... although I realize everyone here does not fear the doctor like I do, but sex in an MRI?

oops, sorry, sex in an MRI.

[link]

And I'm sorry about the misery, Spidra. That sounds horrible.