I need liquid tylenol (or something) for the headache -- I feel like a pill would rip me in half.

Trudy, do hot baths work for you at all?

That's a thought!

Thanks

So tired of these people. So tired of the phone.

So tired of these people. So tired of the phone.

So right there with you. Can you explain to this guy who has called like 6 times that my coworker's phone isn't broken, he's just at lunch? I can no longer form sentences, but instead am forced to make noises like, "GAH! GRRRBLE! GUH!" whenever I see his name on the caller i.d.

I love when I have to explain to someone that voicemail really IS their best option.

We had Owen's initial assessment with the local school system's speech pathologist this morning. Looks like he's going to qualify for service. Now we have to schedule the occupational therapy evaluation and the early childhood teacher's visit.

I understand why it is but the process is just so frustratingly slow.

Yay for some progress for you and Owen though.

So right there with you. Can you explain to this guy who has called like 6 times that my coworker's phone isn't broken, he's just at lunch?

I hate this:

Fuckcake: "I have Problem X."

Me: "That's a Payroll issue. I will alert them. They will investigate and call you back."

FC: "Thank you."

1 hour later:

Phone: *ring*

FC: "Any answer on my problem? Which is Problem X? Which, in excrutiating detail, involves blahblahblahblahforeversticks with tartar sauce?"

Me: "Yes, FC, I understand your problem. I'm the one you spoke to earlier. I hate tartar sauce. Payroll is investigating and someone will call you."

FC: "Thank you."

A half hour later:

Phone: *ring. Again.*

FC: "Any answer yet on my Problem X, the painful details of which are blahblahblahblahwould you like tartar sauce with that?"

Me: "No. Not yet. Payroll. Will. Call. You."

FC: "Thank you."

Fifteen minutes later:

Phone: *Ring. Sorry.*

FC: "Is there, perhaps, an answer regarding my Problem X, regarding which I have composed an epic poem in the style of the Nordic Sagas with tartar sauce?"

Me: "Grrr. No. Payroll. Call. You."

FC: "Thank you."

Five minutes later:

Phone: *Uh. Ring?*

Me: "No."

Phone: *Uh. Yeah. Um. Ring?*

Me: "I said no."

Phone: *Er. Ringy-dingy?*

Me: "I hate you with a passionate heat as burning as a thousand suns."

Phone: *Just the messenger, dude. Ring.*

FC: "Hi. I was wondering if Problem X, now reaching its tenth volume as far as descriptive and repetitive details go, has had any..."

Me: "I know where you live."

FC: "...are you going to bring tartar sauce?"

Me: "Yes. Tartar sauce of death."

FC: "I'll just wait for Payroll to call, then. *aggrieved sigh*"

Me: "Thank you!"

MM, that sounds like hell. I just get the eleventy-billion solicitation phone calls, half of which are damn recordings anyway, so I can't tell them we're NOT INTERESTED and STOP CALLING. Grrrr.