Things that bug me

I took a vacation day last Friday, and had two painful experiences. One caused my ears to bleed (slight exaggeration), the other my mouth (another slight exaggeration.) We'll start with the mouth incident, even though the bleeding ears happened first. That's a much longer and drawn out story.

My husband met me at Red Robin. It's where we go for lunch before our big Costco excursion. Even though I'm trying to eat healthy, I always have the onion rings while there. Frankly, it's for the sauce that comes with them. I suppose I could just order the sauce, but what fun is that? I was so excited for that taste treat that I had that onion ring in my mouth before I realized how hot it was. I ended up very ungracefully spitting the onion ring back out, but not before getting a huge burn, followed by an instant blister on the roof of my mouth. But there were still 5 onion rings to be had. I figured out a way to only eat on one side of my mouth, still causing pain, but enjoying the onion rings and sauce very much. I'm still paying for that even now as I write. I ended up with an abscess in the gum about three teeth wide next to that burn, have a swollen jaw and neck to go along with it, and can't eat anything that's not soft. Will that stop me from having onion rings again? Nope.

That brings me to the next topic on the same theme. I'll let you figure out the theme. :wink:

My hairdresser. She does a fine job. My hair is very important to me, so much so that I used to drive almost two hours each way to see my last hairdresser. When she ended up M.I.A. (later she resurfaced, so you can call off the APB), I had to find a new one. The first visit wasn't too bad. I did find the fact that she mumbles really softly to be rather annoying, and the fact that she talked about all of the loser men that she's given un-repaid loans to even more annoying, I was willing to overlook all of that because she did a good job on my hair.

The second visit was a bit unnerving. I think she started feeling like I was someone she could trust with some of her "theories". She shared with me the fact that she believes that spiders are really aliens from another planet. Between this and the last appointment, I'd spent a good three hours with her. She doesn't have a sense of humor, so I knew she wasn't joking. She went on to tell me why she thought they were from another planet, but then started the mumbling thing again and I missed most of the explanation. The irony of having foil all over my head while she was telling her alien stories was not lost on me, however.

Visit three. This was last Friday, prior to the onion ring incident. I spent 3.5 hours, captive in her chair listening to more theories. This time they were more along the lines of government conspiracy. She shared with me the following:

Newspaper editors write headlines that have nothing to do with the story. This way, they can tell what they want people to think because most don't read the story; just the headline.

The "flu shots" (and she did the little finger quote thing) are really antidotes to biological warfare. She went on to remind me that the government recommended everyone get a flu shot after 9/11. What she fails to recognize is that the government always recommends flu shots around October.

The government experiments on military families (this one I believe, after she told me she grew up in a military family. Now THAT makes perfect sense.)

Then the mumbling thing started again and I had a hard time hearing her. I think there were at least five more theories that day; one having to do with Nazi concentration camps, if I recall. All I kept thinking was that she must be really tired by the end of the day with all those thoughts running around in her head.

3.5 hours of crazy-talk every 6-8 weeks. You'd think that this would dissuade me from coming back. You'd think. You'd also think that having a week of having a swollen and painful mouth would make me think twice about having onion rings anytime soon. Nope. I'll be back for both.

Have you figured out the theme yet?

I was really concentrating on a project at work today and wasn't paying attention to the time. This is a dangerous thing to do because I am tied to a train schedule. Doesn't make a bit of difference if you're one minute late for the train or two hours late. When it's gone, it's gone.

I looked at the time on my computer and panicked a bit. I know that I need to leave my office at least 15 minutes before the train departs. I could get very lucky and do it in 11 minutes, but that's cutting it a little close and is exactly what happened. Apparently I wasn't the only one who was cutting it close.

I have to catch a bus to get to the train. There is one stop between where I get on the bus and the train. The bus seemed to stop an extraordinary amount of time at this stop. That's when I noticed the man sitting across from me. He was getting very irritable. He was muttering under his breath about how he's going to miss the train and how it's all his wife's fault because she didn't get off the phone so he could leave the office. I worried about his anger management skills. Then he said the most absurd thing I've ever heard.

Apparently the bus was stopped for so long because there was a wheelchaired person getting on the bus. That requires a lift to go down, the wheelchair to get on the lift, lift goes back up and then the wheelchair has to be strapped down before the bus can proceed.

This man actually said OUT LOUD, "Great, it's a G--damned wheelchair". I'm sure the look on my face showed exactly what I was thinking. What an idiot. Too bad that my thought bubble didn't pop.

My sister and I were having an email exchange this morning regarding a blog I sent her. In it, the blogger mentions not liking peaches. As an aside, my sister likes them. I don't. I'm sure you were wondering. My sister and I happen to think we are brilliant and everyone is surely interested in our thoughts.

It reminded me of something I saw in the women's restroom at work. Someone at work (I have my suspicions) has ensured that there is a can of air freshener for each stall. My stall had peach scent. That disturbed me. I just don't believe peach scent should be used to cover up "that smell", and mentioned that to my sis. She also found it to be disturbing and said that it was like "Peach cobbler gone horribly wrong". <- hey look! I used peach colored font. Now, that's acceptable. Peach smell in a bathroom isn't.

Bleck.

I think I might have to toss that can of fake peach smell.

My half-body mirror told me that I looked smashing today. I left the house with complete confidence, and I might even add, a bit of a bounce in my step. I decided that since tomorrow was going to be a scary day, I'd make today a great day. I even ironed my outfit and changed my earrings (which I hardly ever do...)

I got to work, thinking how great I look and I'm going to make darned well sure that everyone had an opportunity to view my great look. After a venti coffee and half of my 32 ounce bottle of water, it was time to visit the ladies room. There IS a full length mirror there. I always check myself out in that mirror to ensure I'm zipped, hair in place, etc.

Imagine my horror when the image in my head didn't match the image in the mirror. I was imagining that my top was covering my butt (which was covered by pants that were a little too snug.) It wasn't. There it was, my huge arse out there for the world to see. Worse, the pants are kind of a stretchy material, so it kind of hung on to all the little imperfections (aka cellulite).

I wanted to go home immediately. Of course, my day was just beginning so that was impossible. Worse, I had several meetings to attend. My sister had a great idea. Be the first to get there and the last to leave. I had a better idea... just keep my butt in my chair and roll it to all my meetings.

I guess it got my mind off of other stuff.