Spike's Bitches 44: It's about the rules having changed.
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risqué (and frisqué), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
Shir, I'm glad you're going to be getting out and going for a hike. The outdoors often has a calming effect on me. And again, I'm wishing you lots of ~ma as you try and figure out how to deal with this difficult situation.
I have no altering tips for you, sadly.
Major gronk this morning. I was up until 1:30 am - KBD and I had a very emotional discussion that resulted in a lot of crying on my part. We look at the world really, *really* differently and reconciling those viewpoints is made more difficult by differences in language and defensiveness on both sides and a healthy but not useful dose of mutual snark.
Anyway, for the first time ever, my eyes are *ridiculously* puffy, I can't open them all the way. It's annoying and I feel silly.
Aw, don't feel silly. It happens. Get some cold teabags and put them over your eyes for a few minutes and that ought to help. At the very least, a cold, wet washcloth.
::smishes smonster and sneaks a grope, just 'cause::
Or put spoons in the freezer for a little bit and then put them on your eyelids.
Post toasties:
People iz weird. Growing up in Miami, on a fairly busy street, no less, it didn't really surprise me if people picked stuff up that you put out for the trash. Or even if you just set it out on the street, hoping someone would pick it up and take it. Kind of one of those time-honored traditions, one man's trash is another's treasure thing.
Where I currently live, though... I'm on a cul-de-sac in a subdivision that's part of a larger Planned Urban Development. I don't necessarily expect to see trash scavengers in my hood. Yet someone apparently went through our trash last night and riffled through several boxes we had put out and took some other stuff that we're in the process of clearing out in preparation for the move. It's not that I care, so much except... it feels kind of weird, knowing someone was trolling my extremely suburban neighborhood for stuff and if they were going to rummage through the boxes, you'd think they would have left them at least neat and not turned over on their sides with stuff spilling out.
Um ... has anyone seen Cash this morning?
Don't feel silly, smonster. It happens.
My eyes, after crying for hours after my grandfather's passing (I swear, I keep forgetting he's dead. It takes me a few seconds to remember that every time, after thinking "hey, I didn't see him for a long time"), were like that.
Some cold water and 20 minutes after, it looked better.
Though, it didn't help I kept crying every now and then.
Damn emotions. Can we remove them somewhere? Or have a mute button? Or just an adjustable button?
And a question. Is it "everytime" or "every time"?
Um ... has anyone seen Cash this morning?
Did something happen in her neck of the woods?
Haven't seen Cash.
I'm at work, so I can't really do any of the home remedies for puffy eyes. I'm just hoping no one notices and that they go away. Soonish.
if they were going to rummage through the boxes, you'd think they would have left them at least neat and not turned over on their sides with stuff spilling out.
Ha. While in theory I approve of reusing things that would instead be thrown away, my professional experience with dumpster divers is that *many* of them rip through bags and boxes and just leave it all for "someone else" to clean up. I get cranky b/c the "someone else" is my coworkers, or occasionally me. I may be an ecofreak, but don't get me started on freegans.
Damn emotions. Can we remove them somewhere? Or have a mute button? Or just an adjustable button?
No kidding, right? I cry very easily, which never fails to astonish and confound KBD. It's not something I can control, and I've pretty much given up on trying. But he really doesn't get it and frequently ends up patting me clumsily and saying "Don't cry."
Did something happen in her neck of the woods?
No. I just had a bad dream about her and feel the need to check in.
Aw, smonster, I'm sorry. Go get some chocolate?
So, I'm Little Miss Outoftheloopenstein lately, I know - punctuation for all that need it (I just skipped a gazillion posts).
Work is keeping me busy busy busy lately. Had an Observation today (the Head watching me teach my Year 5 class Literacy) and another on Monday (the Head of Key Stage 3 watching me teach Art to the Year 8&9 group). Felt like utter crap on Monday after the observation, even though the lesson went pretty well - she evidently wasn't much impressed. I mean, didn't say it sucked, or whatever, but didn't have much actively positive to say either - and apparently I really need the pats on the head to make me feel hopeful about my ability to make things better. Which was a bit sad-making, since I've been working my ass off trying to figure out how to connect with this group (who are...well, let's just say that they're less able than my Year 5 class, and leave it at that) and after several weeks of not really getting very far with what we're SUPPOSED to be doing, have rewritten the curriculum to base it around