Steph, if it's any consolation, during one of my visits to the ER the person in the next cubicle was being treated for ... constipation. No one seemed too upset with her for wasting their time.
Buffy ,'The Killer In Me'
Spike's Bitches 45: That sure as hell wasn't in the brochure.
[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.
I don't normally do that.
Your mom's given you some practice.
Heh, yeah. We're in a funny, mildly passive-aggressive place right now. I am currently, honestly really busy and stressed, and I have had no desire to call home and potentially add more stress to my life, so I haven't called. But when I was sick, my mom did send me a couple e-mails asking if I was better (the first was flouncy, so I didn't respond, but the second was simple, so I did), and now we communicate through short e-mails, which is nice. But, amusingly enough, whenever she calls and leaves me a voicemail now, she prefaces it with "I'm only calling because of X," deliberately not bringing up any other sore subjects. I have yet to see whether she would avoid them on an actual phone call. I suspect not, but we'll see. Maybe she's slowly, slowly learning.
I really don't understand how most of my tenants function in the real world sometimes. If you want to know if the washer is fixed either call the effing number on it or try to run a load. NOT OUR MACHINE.
Jeebus. Some of these people can't be arsed to fill out a piece of paperwork to save their effing apartment, but the instance something they want to use isn't available and they flip the fuck out.
Steph, if it's any consolation, during one of my visits to the ER the person in the next cubicle was being treated for ... constipation. No one seemed too upset with her for wasting their time.
I actually don't care about that as much as being embarrassed to admit to co-workers (and you guys) that I was all freaked out over gas pains or something.
And I will be equally embarrassed if it is, in fact, heart stuff. This is a no-win situation for me.
This is a no-win situation for me.
"Hello, Tuesday, is it time again for my guaranteed humiliation?"
This is a no-win situation for me.
"Hello, Tuesday, is it time again for my guaranteed humiliation?"
I shouldn't have to leave home for that. IJS.
I shouldn't have to leave home for that. IJS.
Would you prefer to have your humiliation delivered?
I shouldn't have to leave home for that. IJS.
Would you prefer to have your humiliation delivered?
In-house, baby.
I actually don't care about that as much as being embarrassed to admit to co-workers (and you guys) that I was all freaked out over gas pains or something.
With everything your Father has been through and the genetic hand you are slowly being dealt I will do nothing but say a prayer of thanks that its gas. I will follow it up with a quick prayer of petition that such pains for you always be gas.
Lather, rinse, repeat.
Go Teppy! (which, btw, the iPhone wants to make repot). Be assertive, even if it's nothing, better than starting to be like your dad early all "oh, it's not that bad of a heart attack, I'll just drive to the hospital...". Heh.
PC, nice hangup story. Also, why I could never ever be a sales person or a telephone solicitor, omg. Though at least now I'm ok with the phone as opposed to when I was a teenager and wouldn't even order pizza.