I am currently in allergy hell and allergy season has just begun.
I'm allergic to grass pollen, you see, so there's virtually nowhere I can go to escape 'cause eventhough we've done a pretty good job of raping and pillaging ole Mother Earth, there's still a bunch of the green stuff all over the place. It's the one natural thing that we all seem to like and like to complain about so it gives us something to do.
It's not even so much that my nose has a constant mucousy slow leak happenin' that really bothers me or that you have to eat and drink everything in small doses so you don't suffocate or drown. The thing that drives me absolutely insane is that my upper nasal passageway/sinuses are swollen completely shut (think opposite of Paris Hilton) and no amount of antihistamine, nasal sprays, or cold compresses can help. All nasal sprays (in case you were wondering) smell and taste like ammonia. You'd think they'd at least make a nice fresh lemon scent available, maybe apple pie or something. After awhile even the faint aroma of dirty beaver would be a welcome change, although that also carries a slight vinegary tang to it once in awhile.
Sidenote: I made the mistake once of trying to spray Otrivin up my nose while lying down on the couch. Sprays were made to be used in the upright position was the "take home message" from that experience. I quickly learned that lesson after what was supposed to be a fine misty spray actually came out in a high-powered stream-of-doom that went directly through my sinuses and down the back of my throat burning a trail all along the way. Nasal sprays are strong, but Otrivin is the freakin' Hercules/Superman/Incredible Hulk/John Holmes of nasal sprays. I tasted ammonia for at least 10 days after that. Bad, bad idea.
Not only that, but I took an allergy pill this morning (allegra-D to be exact), and my whole body is getting pretty rubbery right now. I don't know why but I can drink like a fish all night with the hardest liquer you can find and not feel a thing that night or the morning after, but I take one teensy tiny little "Non-Drowsy" allergy pill or other non-Advil medication and it is good night big 250lbs Tony. I'm not even sure if I can feel my toes right now.
Add that to the brain-numbing effect being at work usually has on me and I just might try to eat my lunch with my ass pretty soon. I hope someone has the courage to stop me, they usually just let me sit with broccoli in my teeth so I'm not too hopeful.
I am positive that there are people in the world suffering 1-million times greater suffering than anything that I will ever have to go through in my lifetime, but right now, I just want to breathe again.
Pity me, really, 'cause I'm pitiful.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Monday, June 11, 2007
What to do, to do, to do...?
What do you do when you don't know what to do? What do you do when you come in to work and have all of your work done in the first 90 minutes of your shift? Blog? Facebook? Other random web searching?
When you've spent a little while with not a lot going on, how do you get motivated to do something when it finally comes across your desk 2 hours after you finished the last thing?
I wasn't overly worried until another random Google Quest into the void produced this little tidbit,
“Boredom causes raised blood pressure, narrowing of the arteries and raised cholesterol,” says Dr. Sandi Mann, author of Hiding What We Feel, Faking What We Don’t.
Boredom doesn’t just show up in the daily lives of customer service reps who might have to mouth the same words fifty times a day. Workers with not enough to do or doing a job that’s not challenging may also find themselves twiddling their thumbs. Or because you’re highly skilled, you can be vulnerable to boredom since you can do your job with little effort once you’ve perfected your skills, says Dyer-Smith.
from http://andreakay.com/personal/art_5046.htm
So now what? I'm overweight from sitting on my cubicle-bound buttocks all day with my only exercise coming from walking to the printer and/or cafeteria, I'm bored 'cause I've been doing this job so long I'm showing people with 10+ years seniority how to do the job, and now I'm stressed/worried that being bored is going to kill me....ARRRGGGGHHHH!!!
Time for a mindless distraction so I can regain some composure:
http://www.kingfeatures.com/features/comics/comics.htm
Ahhhh...much better. Back to non-work now.
Hope I don't cack before 3pm.
When you've spent a little while with not a lot going on, how do you get motivated to do something when it finally comes across your desk 2 hours after you finished the last thing?
I wasn't overly worried until another random Google Quest into the void produced this little tidbit,
“Boredom causes raised blood pressure, narrowing of the arteries and raised cholesterol,” says Dr. Sandi Mann, author of Hiding What We Feel, Faking What We Don’t.
Boredom doesn’t just show up in the daily lives of customer service reps who might have to mouth the same words fifty times a day. Workers with not enough to do or doing a job that’s not challenging may also find themselves twiddling their thumbs. Or because you’re highly skilled, you can be vulnerable to boredom since you can do your job with little effort once you’ve perfected your skills, says Dyer-Smith.
from http://andreakay.com/personal/art_5046.htm
So now what? I'm overweight from sitting on my cubicle-bound buttocks all day with my only exercise coming from walking to the printer and/or cafeteria, I'm bored 'cause I've been doing this job so long I'm showing people with 10+ years seniority how to do the job, and now I'm stressed/worried that being bored is going to kill me....ARRRGGGGHHHH!!!
Time for a mindless distraction so I can regain some composure:
http://www.kingfeatures.com/features/comics/comics.htm
Ahhhh...much better. Back to non-work now.
Hope I don't cack before 3pm.
Friday, June 8, 2007
Friday afternoon quickie.
Finally got my sorry butt on to Facebook and I must admit that while I was not that impressed with the site itself, it is extremely addictive and an excellent way to destroy even more brain cells while at work.
Here are some random observations I made while surfing through the various pages and people I used to go to highschool with (or so they say, I can't remember anymore):
1. While people might speak with a Jamaican or other Carribean accent in person I am really confused by why those same people feel the need to TYPE with a Jamaican or other Carribean accent, for example:
"I kno of a certain young male teach (who shall remain nameless) dat was sleepin wid students. I kno of a gyrl who actually had a xtra curikular relationship wid him. She doesnt tink I kno butt..... I KNO WUT HAPPENED DURIN MASS WID YU N HIM! Comin bak fixin yur hair, n wipin yur mouth yu should've told him ta fix hiz zippa! Hope ya passed hiz class tha 2nd time aroun"
...I just don't get it.
2. If you are an attractive female and someone asks to be your "Friend", they really want to "Super Poke" you. If you are an attractive male and someone asks to be your friend...they really don't want anything at all. They're just annoying. Or your cousin.
3. Why do people who are obviously not gangsters take pictures of themselves to try and make themselves look like gangsters? See: http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=499530&id=603810720
Here are some random observations I made while surfing through the various pages and people I used to go to highschool with (or so they say, I can't remember anymore):
1. While people might speak with a Jamaican or other Carribean accent in person I am really confused by why those same people feel the need to TYPE with a Jamaican or other Carribean accent, for example:
"I kno of a certain young male teach (who shall remain nameless) dat was sleepin wid students. I kno of a gyrl who actually had a xtra curikular relationship wid him. She doesnt tink I kno butt..... I KNO WUT HAPPENED DURIN MASS WID YU N HIM! Comin bak fixin yur hair, n wipin yur mouth yu should've told him ta fix hiz zippa! Hope ya passed hiz class tha 2nd time aroun"
...I just don't get it.
2. If you are an attractive female and someone asks to be your "Friend", they really want to "Super Poke" you. If you are an attractive male and someone asks to be your friend...they really don't want anything at all. They're just annoying. Or your cousin.
3. Why do people who are obviously not gangsters take pictures of themselves to try and make themselves look like gangsters? See: http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=499530&id=603810720
4. Why do girls/women who claim to not be looking to get laid post cleavage-closeup photos? I don't have any specific links...there's plenty of 'em on there.
I changed my mind on #4, here's a link:
http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=33136&id=500698123
That's it for now. I'm off to install a dishwasher, take my son to his soccer team photos, and maybe find a theatre that's still playing Hot Fuzz.
Gotta go!
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
What do you do when..?
What do you do when....
... your boss asks you for something he/she asked you to do 2 days ago?
... a customer asks you for something he/she asked you for 2 weeks ago?
... your son asks you for another Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle to add to his 12 other Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles eventhough there are only 4 freakin' Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?
... your neighbour wants to borrow your power tools for 'a little project'?
... your wife/husband/significant other asks you to do something you can't possibly do after the 8 beers and 7 shots you just had?
Answer to all of the above:
Just fake it as best you can and move on.
P.S. Question - if you (a) believe in a god/deity of some sort and (b) think that by not recycling something you are damaging the Earth, does that mean that not recycling is a sin? and, by extension, does that mean that every single time you don't recycle (even if it is because it is extremely inconvenient) you are committing a sin?
That is of course only relevant if you believe in a god/deity.
See http://richarddawkins.net/godDelusion
Not saying that I agree with Mr. D. (there are some serious flaws in his arguments) but it's interesting nonetheless. Maybe if I'm already almost comatose one day I might take the time to read it...or I might just watch 'The Facts of Life - Season 3 DVD' I borrowed from the library. Gotta love Blair, Natalie, Tootie and Jo - even with the ridiculous episode where Jo decides to start a pizza business in the boarding school kitchen. 1980's racially motivated stereotypical hillarity at its best. See also 'Perfect Strangers' - Balky, Balky, Balky, where are you now?
Ahh Mrs. Garrett, who loves ya baby?
Gotta turn my brain off now and get back to work.
Eat your veggies. Your mother loves you.
... your boss asks you for something he/she asked you to do 2 days ago?
... a customer asks you for something he/she asked you for 2 weeks ago?
... your son asks you for another Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle to add to his 12 other Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles eventhough there are only 4 freakin' Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?
... your neighbour wants to borrow your power tools for 'a little project'?
... your wife/husband/significant other asks you to do something you can't possibly do after the 8 beers and 7 shots you just had?
Answer to all of the above:
Just fake it as best you can and move on.
P.S. Question - if you (a) believe in a god/deity of some sort and (b) think that by not recycling something you are damaging the Earth, does that mean that not recycling is a sin? and, by extension, does that mean that every single time you don't recycle (even if it is because it is extremely inconvenient) you are committing a sin?
That is of course only relevant if you believe in a god/deity.
See http://richarddawkins.net/godDelusion
Not saying that I agree with Mr. D. (there are some serious flaws in his arguments) but it's interesting nonetheless. Maybe if I'm already almost comatose one day I might take the time to read it...or I might just watch 'The Facts of Life - Season 3 DVD' I borrowed from the library. Gotta love Blair, Natalie, Tootie and Jo - even with the ridiculous episode where Jo decides to start a pizza business in the boarding school kitchen. 1980's racially motivated stereotypical hillarity at its best. See also 'Perfect Strangers' - Balky, Balky, Balky, where are you now?
Ahh Mrs. Garrett, who loves ya baby?
Gotta turn my brain off now and get back to work.
Eat your veggies. Your mother loves you.
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
Some days...
Finally have moved into my new house with my lovely wife and kids and all went well. Moved everything in one trip on a big truck on a Saturday morning, had lots of help, and I'm tired as heck...but happy...and then came Sunday!
Woke up early Sunday morning and got breakfast ready for the kids...no problem.
Started working in the garage to get boxes unpacked, boxes and packaging cut up for garbage/recycling, etc. Tiring, but...no problem.
Then my lovely wife asked me to hook up the washing machine and the dark clouds began to move in over the horizon. In the distance I could hear the war drums beating as the battle was about to begin.
I'll be brief:
- I couldn't level the washing machine because one of the screwed on feet is rusted/corroded and no amount of WD-40, gentle twisting, or vigorous hammer-bashing would get it to move.
- I decided to refer to that particular piece of the machine as the 'damned foot'. Not damned like 'damnit, why don't you move!', more like in the biblical, fire and brimstone, eternally suffering type of damned.
- While spraying the aforementioned WD-40 in my admittedly exhausted state with the spray nozzle pointed directly at my face while lying on the ground trying to reach in behind the damned foot, a healthy dose of high pressure spray made it directly into not one, but both my eyes, to wit I exclaimed, "Ahh fucking shit!". I proceeded to shout my wife's name repeatedly while I jumped up and shoved as much freezing cold water from the laundry sink tap into my eyes as possible.
- After listening to my lovely wife read the poison warning information on the back of the WD-40 bottle I kindly asked her to, "Please get me some soap." so I could wash the oily product off my face and prevent any more of it getting into my eyes. My lovely wife took one step away to tease me into thinking that she was actually going to get me some soap, stopped, retracted her step, and proceeded to try and start a debate with me (while still flushing my face/eyes with the coldest water I've felt in a lifetime and gasping for air in between) about whether I should be putting soap into my eyes. To this I replied, not so kindly, "SOOOOOAP!".
- I gave up on the damned foot and tried to level the machine by lying on the ground, lifting/tilting/balancing the machine on the not-damned foot with one hand, while reaching to the back feet with my other hand and trying to shove some wooden shims under them.
Tired yet? Don't worry, I'm almost done.
- Finally completed that task, and to keep the rest of the story as short as possible, I left to drive to Home Depot to buy some parts to connect the Clothes Dryer to the Dryer Vent and along my way spilled my lovely wife's leftover coffee on my hand/center console/gearshift, tried to lick as much sticky coffee (my lovely wife likes 3 sugars) off my hand 'cause there aren't any Kleenex around, discovered that my windshield wiper blade was broken and was scraping my actual windshield, and hit at least one (if not two) birds that swooped down in front of my car as I was driving 80KPH on my way to the store.
I felt bad about the birds, I really did. I looked into my rearview mirror and saw the one flailing about on the ground while the other stood there, looking at his fallen friend saying, 'Hey, you OK?". At least that's what he was saying in my head.
When I drove back home, neither one of them was OK. Not even close.
Some days...
Woke up early Sunday morning and got breakfast ready for the kids...no problem.
Started working in the garage to get boxes unpacked, boxes and packaging cut up for garbage/recycling, etc. Tiring, but...no problem.
Then my lovely wife asked me to hook up the washing machine and the dark clouds began to move in over the horizon. In the distance I could hear the war drums beating as the battle was about to begin.
I'll be brief:
- I couldn't level the washing machine because one of the screwed on feet is rusted/corroded and no amount of WD-40, gentle twisting, or vigorous hammer-bashing would get it to move.
- I decided to refer to that particular piece of the machine as the 'damned foot'. Not damned like 'damnit, why don't you move!', more like in the biblical, fire and brimstone, eternally suffering type of damned.
- While spraying the aforementioned WD-40 in my admittedly exhausted state with the spray nozzle pointed directly at my face while lying on the ground trying to reach in behind the damned foot, a healthy dose of high pressure spray made it directly into not one, but both my eyes, to wit I exclaimed, "Ahh fucking shit!". I proceeded to shout my wife's name repeatedly while I jumped up and shoved as much freezing cold water from the laundry sink tap into my eyes as possible.
- After listening to my lovely wife read the poison warning information on the back of the WD-40 bottle I kindly asked her to, "Please get me some soap." so I could wash the oily product off my face and prevent any more of it getting into my eyes. My lovely wife took one step away to tease me into thinking that she was actually going to get me some soap, stopped, retracted her step, and proceeded to try and start a debate with me (while still flushing my face/eyes with the coldest water I've felt in a lifetime and gasping for air in between) about whether I should be putting soap into my eyes. To this I replied, not so kindly, "SOOOOOAP!".
- I gave up on the damned foot and tried to level the machine by lying on the ground, lifting/tilting/balancing the machine on the not-damned foot with one hand, while reaching to the back feet with my other hand and trying to shove some wooden shims under them.
Tired yet? Don't worry, I'm almost done.
- Finally completed that task, and to keep the rest of the story as short as possible, I left to drive to Home Depot to buy some parts to connect the Clothes Dryer to the Dryer Vent and along my way spilled my lovely wife's leftover coffee on my hand/center console/gearshift, tried to lick as much sticky coffee (my lovely wife likes 3 sugars) off my hand 'cause there aren't any Kleenex around, discovered that my windshield wiper blade was broken and was scraping my actual windshield, and hit at least one (if not two) birds that swooped down in front of my car as I was driving 80KPH on my way to the store.
I felt bad about the birds, I really did. I looked into my rearview mirror and saw the one flailing about on the ground while the other stood there, looking at his fallen friend saying, 'Hey, you OK?". At least that's what he was saying in my head.
When I drove back home, neither one of them was OK. Not even close.
Some days...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
