I'm really worn out.
I'm also borderline tearful this morning. I suspect I will not fare so great at the funeral today. (borderline tearful because of other stuff, not just because of saying goodbye).
Crud. I forgot to bring tissues. I'll have to steal some from one of the classrooms.
I baked a cake last night...they're having a "light lunch" but they still wanted cake. So I made the hot milk sponge cake that I've made many times before (for happier occasions) and made a cooked chocolate frosting ("Chocolate Satin" frosting out of the County Fair cookbook I posted about last week). Doing a cooked type of frosting is less annoying than the sort of no-recipe, "mix some milk and some powdered sugar and then add flavorings" frosting I have done in the past - with the no-recipe one, either I wound up with not enough or way too much. And I'd have to keep adding more milk or more sugar and it sometimes wound up too stiff or too runny.
Another thing I'm fed up with right now - part of the Groundhog Day mentality I'm suffering - is the construction near my house. This is that intersection they just closed from February on. It was supposed to be finished at the start of this month. Well, it's open again, in the sense that you can drive through it, but it's not finished - they still have barrels up blocking some lanes, and the stoplights are set to blink red, which signifies "treat it as a four-way stop."
I have not seen ANYONE - nor have I heard anyone, and I live within hearing distance of the site, I got to hear them tearing up pavement all spring - working on it since I've been back from break. So I now refer to it as "Your Tax Dollars Not At Work" and I am quite annoyed...it's like the crew looked at it, went "Good enough" and moved on to some other project. While we're left to deal with an unfinished and imperfect intersection. (And no, I don't think it's a "don't work out in the heat" issue - I've seen construction crews on other projects. Or, they could work first thing in the morning before it's 100 degrees out)
And the thing that particularly irritates me is that some people around here do not understand the concept of a four-way stop. The first car arriving goes first. Than the next car. YOU TAKE TURNS. I've run into people who decide to be "generous" and wave others through (messing up the order) or, worse, who decide that four-way stop means, "The most impatient person goes first."
This morning, pulling up to the stop, I waited on a small white car (there first), then a red pickup truck. And then, the guy in a gray convertible who was behind the pickup truck decided it was HIS turn, even though it was mine. (Somehow, it flashed in my mind that he might do that, so I didn't accelerate too fast). Yup, he blew right on through.
"You're a dingleberry. Who owns a convertible. Good for yooooooou!" I exclaimed to the air as he sailed by. (If I had pulled through like I was "supposed" to, he would have t-boned me. Right in the driver's side of my car.)
I really don't want to buy the farm on my way to work. If I do, I will ask permission from St. Peter or whoever handles those things to be allowed to HAUNT the person who killed me.
It's bad enough driving in to work at 7 am on a day after a night when you didn't have enough sleep and you were hurting too badly to work out and then the local news had a story on OMG IN 20 YEARS HALF OF THE WORLD'S POPULATION WILL BE OBESE and you look down at your potbelly and begin to feel personally responsible and wonder if you could skip the bowl of Cheerios this morning and maybe every meal between now and October....
I really need to get out and do something fun; I can sense my mental equilibrium starting to slip, but I also really need to prepare the next three chapters of PI stuff.
And I have to get my picture made tomorrow. They're doing a new church directory. They warned us it could take up to an hour. I hate being photographed. (I don't mind photographing myself wearing something I knit or sewed...that's different. But having someone fussing over me and talking me up and reminding me to smile and stuff...my parents had it done recently and afterward, my mother kind of rolled her eyes and said she got heartily sick of being called "honey" or "darlin'" repeatedly.)
4 comments:
What's worse is the way people who are in the habit of calling you "honey" or "darlin'" get their feelings hurt if you ask them not to do that. And they make that face -- you know the one. "I was just trying to be nice. You're so mean."
Re: Your Tax Dollars Not At Work - this seems to be all too characteristic of public works projects. They work on something for six weeks, then disappear. A month later they come back and do two days' work and it's finished. Why couldn't they have done those last two days along with the rest of the work? Someone must be really poor at (1) scheduling, (2) knowing how long things take, or (3) both.
Re: Honey and Darling -- I once asked for some advice from a local fire marshal on behalf of an organization I was working for. The advice was good, but came liberally decorated with endearments. At the end of the conversation I said, "May I offer a bit of advice?" Stunned silence on the other end. "I personally don't mind it very much," I said, "but a lot of women don't like to be addressed as "honey" and "darling" by people they don't know." I could hear him gulp on the other end and he replied, "Uhhh, thank you," in a rather not-sure-what-to-say tone of voice.
The best part? A couple of years later a friend of mine was taking a class from this same fire marshal and reported to me that the man is now telling this story ON HIMSELF. Win!
re: construction delays.
As someone involved in public works I'd say: complain.
Not to the contractor or public works department, but to the civilian overseers. Budgets are approved by elected county/city officials - and money desperate department heads HATE knowing those folk are getting any kind of bad feedback.
Any sane pw contract has a liquidated damages clause, after which the contractor starts paying the Contractee money, say $500/day. Contractors HATE that.
Sometimes it is out of everyone's hands, but that's actually pretty rare. Usually a screw up somewhere.
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