I feel guilty complaining

Just because other people have it worse doesn't mean that you don't get to complain to us here, Gud. Your weekend sounds pretty rough to me and I hope your hand is okay.

Oh Gud, I wouldn't even begin to be able to fix a broken dishwasher. And I certainly wouldn't put up with a spouse yelling at me about it. After I slept in an unheated house and fucked up my back.

Sheesh. Give yourself a break. That's a genuine shit-storm.

OH MY GOD we're reviewing a training we took a few years ago, and a coworker is taking the opportunity to relitigate questions that came up then. WE HAVE BEEN THROUGH THIS.

One good thing is that my hand seems to be doing well. I've put out garbage, been to the grocery store, and washed some dishes and there's nothing but a little soreness. It hurt so much last night I was worried I'd broken something, but it looks like I'm fine. New part for the dishwasher should arrive tomorrow so there won't be a lot more hand-washing to do (now there is a first world problem).

That's the worst, Dana. Workplaces need to put up inspirational posters to drive home the importance of always weighing the value of the questions vs. extending the meeting. Or maybe meetings should have a post-meeting breakdown that only has to be attended by anyone who extended the meeting length.

I'm glad the hand is doing better, Gud. Also, you never deserve to be yelled at. None of us do. Ya know, unless you are running after a ball into the road and are about to be hit by a car. Then it is okay to yell.

Or at Dana's coworkers. They could use some yelling.

Have two things to do for work today from two different people and I can't tell one person about the other thing I have to do. Ah, politics.

Aww, RIP Carol Channing. I always had a bit of a soft spot for her. I have to find the video that had her stuck in a traffic jam. Hmmm.

Would someone please yell at my roommate about her late rent? She has to move some financial stuff around, which she is behind on (talk to bank about her IRA, et cetera) but it seems as though she just can't get around to it.

I gave her a week, and yesterday I (after warning I would) I changed the Wifi password, but even that isn't helping much.

Well, fuck. Can't talk about it right now, but I feel like I just got fucked over on something important.

Can't decide if I feel like I'm gonna barf because I have so much snot in me or I'm about to run a meeting which I am sadly unprepared for (despite trying to prepare for; it's just... a lot.)