I'm at my end today. Pete is gone. I was up late texting with my friend's partner (who had to leave early this morning) as she had a late-term miscarriage and am texting with her all day now. She's feeling very private about it and doesn't want anyone else to know so she's far away and all alone. It's too much.
I just got chewed out for an error on a document yesterday that - while ultimately my responsibility I suppose though you DID go ahead and sign the thing - fully FIVE people missed and I do not care. I just do not care.
Dang, Trudy, that does sound like a super-stressy sort of day. I hope you can take a 5 minute walk, or eat a bag of peanut M&Ms or do whatever it is that will help you feel just a little bit less end-of-your-tether-y.
Connie, you and your Viking are constantly in my thoughts.
Trudy, sorry about your awful day.
TCG appears to be getting sick. I cannot afford to catch this, it will mess with my carefully scheduled month of doctor's appointments.
Guess what showed up in our mailbox today? A letter from a local funeral home gently inquiring if we've made any final plans. Also, a brochure for live-in care. Gee, I wonder how they got our address? Also in the mailbox, a request from the cancer center wanting to know *every* surgery, medical procedure, drug, IV, incident, doctor, etc. that Hubby's ever had. By Friday. Not buggering likely! Oh, and they'd like this info for parents, siblings, children, and grand-children. No! Especially when it's obvious that someone in one of these organizations is selling patient names.
Hubby is planning on having a good rant tomorrow.
WTF Connie? I'd be livid.
I am speechless, Connie. I can't even.
Hubby's filling out the medical/personal history form for the cancer center. He's had to call his sister to get info. He's just reached the section asking about how many sexual partners he's had. His answer "It was the 70s."
"Do I engage in extreme sports?"
"You play games where you encourage people to try to hit you in the head. That's a yes."
Hairpats and hugs for them as wants 'em.
Exasperated WTFs for the cancer center.
That's outrageous, Connie.
Meanwhile, on a different note: the day has arrived! Behold my diminutive scholar: [link] [link]
Today his studious attentions were directed towards sandpits and Humpty Dumpty collages. Progress report: on pick-up he advised me that when an egg breaks, it can't be restored at all. Further interrogation revealed this to be the case even should one resort to:
1. Glue;
2. Sticky tape;
3. Smooshing the pieces back together
really hard.
Education truly is the silver bullet.
