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Things pissing me off

(What, you want content? Try another website, my friend, because you are barking up absolutely the wrong tree here.)

Anyway, things pissing me off right this very minute:

  • The t key on my keyboard which only generates a t every third or so time that I hit it. Coming soon, the only blog in the internet entirely devoid of ts.

  • My children. Yes, I love them more than my very life, more than air, more than chocolate, more than wine, but would it really kill anybody to cut mommy just the tiniest bit of slack once in a while? Why yes, apparently it would.

  • My stomach. I am going to be at the beach in 11 days and my stomach is unfit for anything other than a caftan. Do they make swim caftans? Meanwhile, I am eating my weight in Hershey's Kisses while I type this. What? The t thing really stresses me out.

  • Ditto my ass.

  • Mia's gastroenterologist. Is that how you spell gastroenterologist? Who cares. Mia had more blood work done because two levels were low the first time, so last week the nurse called me and we had this conversation.

    Nurse: Well, this one thing is normal.
    Beth: That's good, how about the other thing?
    Nurse: What other thing?
    Beth: The other thing from last time?
    Nurse: Oh yeah, that's low too. Lower than last time, actually.
    Beth: Ok.
    Nurse: Ok.
    Beth: And what might that mean, exactly?
    Nurse: I don't know.
    Beth: You don't know?
    Nurse: I don't know.
    Beth: You are calling me with test results and you are unable to give me any inkling as to what the significance of those test results might be?
    Nurse: Well, there's a lab slip in here. I guess they are going to mail you a lab slip?
    Beth: I'm going to need a little more to go on here.
    Nurse: I'll have someone else call you.
    Beth: You think?

    So then the someone else calls, and we have this conversation:

    Someone Else: See, if it is too high it can be a sign of this problem. But it isn't too high, so that's good.
    Beth: But it is too low, right?
    Someone Else: Yes.
    Beth: And that means?
    Someone Else: Probably nothing.
    Beth: But it was too low the first time, and you decided to retest it.
    Someone Else: Yes.
    Beth: So there must be some significance, otherwise why bother with the second test?
    Someone Else: Um.
    Beth: So what I would like to know is, if it isn't nothing, what might it be?
    Someone Else: Well...
    Beth: Well?
    Someone Else: I'll just fax these labs to your pediatrician.
    Beth: So you don't know?
    Someone Else: I don't know.
    Beth: Fabulous.

  • Our trash collection company. And I mean, I am in an absolute feud with the trash collection company. Good thing I live in the suburbs, because if I lived somewhere with mafia-controlled trash collection I would have had a cap in my ass weeks ago. (Is that even correct usage? I am so not up on my organized crime lingo these days.)

  • I hurt my back on Saturday and can still barely stand upright. When did I get this old?

  • My hair has started falling out in clumps, welcome to four months post-partum, but the grey ones never fall out.

  • There is not a single brownie in this entire house. I checked. Also, no wine. Not that I would drink the wine now, understand, but it can be comforting to know that it is available for later, should the need arise.

  • I went outside for five minutes and have 26 mosquito bites. Mosquitoes look at me and see one of those all you can eat 24-hour Vegas buffets. One is on my forehead. That's hott.

  • The mailman. See, I live at 123 Rosebush Lane. There is a nearby house with the address 123 Rosebud Avenue. I frequently receive mail for the lovely people at 123 Rosebud Avenue, which I immediately return to my mailbox, sometimes with a helpful note regarding it's misdirection, so that it can be correctly delivered to my neighbors in a timely fashion. The mailman invariably takes this mail away and then returns it to my mailbox a day later. This is likely not really my personal mailman's fault, but he is the most visible representative of the vast, faceless mail delivery cabal, and therefore the recipient of my ire.

Comments (36)

I am angry with out mail carrier, too. I live in a duplex where I am B and my neighbor is A. We are on the east end of a road. Our names on the mail, apparently, mean nothing. If my mail is addressed to Name Rd. B, without the east, it is returned. If it is addressed to East Name Rd. A, it is returned. I received a piece of mail successfully the other day addressed to South Name Rd. with no A or B. It doesn't make any sense to me and frustrates those who try to mail me things.

No one could ever cut Mommy some slack. Ever. That would surely result in the world ceasing to spin on it's axis.

Well, unless Mommy is prepared to hurl food at the offending children at all hours of the day regardless. Even still, that might only be in my house, and it might also only be if that food is bananas.

I am pissed off by our neighbors who pointed out that our Christmas Wreath was still sitting on the curb as we were packing the car for a Memorial Day trip out of town. Sure, we should have tossed it in January, but I'm pretty sure it made it into the trash in early February and it was the trash collectors who deposited it back on our sidewalk. And if it really bothered the neighbors so much, couldn't they have waited until we drove our over-packed car out of town and then secretly tossed it for us instead of pointing it out thereby making us think, "Ew. Neighbors." I don't want to have to point out to the neighbors that I could easily remember to throw out my wreath if they didn't mind me skimping on some other point of interest, like mowing the lawn or keeping my garbage contained, or NOT blasting music through giant speakers at their house in the wee small hours of the morning.

Stupid neighbors.

I have completely given up on the USPS after they lost a package I sent TWO WEEKS IN ADVANCE that had in it my maid of honor dress for my sister's wedding. It was super stressful to have to buy a dress the day before the wedding because that box never showed up. (It finally arrived 5 weeks after her wedding. WHERE was it for 7 weeks? NO ONE can tell me.)

Also ... I am of the mind that medical professionals, these days, are completely incompetant. The end.

Oh my dear, this sounds like too much. I had one of those weeks recently and I just wanted to spit! Have Chris bring home a big bottle of wine and brownies and hand him the children and hide in a corner drinking the wine and eating the brownies. You'll feel better!

I have that problem with my "o" key.

And I think it probably IS your mailman's fault. I'm pretty sure mail carriers are responsible for making sure the addresses are correct on the mail they deliver, though I could be wrong. My parents were great friends with the mailman when I was a teenager- he used to stop in for a cup of tea and a chat when he delivered our mail- but they never gave him things to deliver because everyone in the neighborhood was aware of his penchant for leaving a trail of dropped letters behind him.

That would all piss me off too. Since my 6 month old boy is now sleeping for about 5-6 hours at night now (so not took all 6 months to get here), but since he's sleeping, I'll have a glass of wine for you tonight.

Hell, I'm gonna make brownies, too. I just accompanied my mom to the doctor's this morning where we made an appointment to have her left breast removed. Wine and brownies all around!!! Shitty Monday.

Oh, and totally feel you about the hair. I've got the baby fringe bangs coming back in right now...just in time for 15 year high school reunion on Saturday.

Oh! Shitty Tuesday...not Monday. Can only get better from here, right? RIGHT?

Huh, I just posted my grievance today too, something in the water? Just think beach! Beach...beach!

Ugh. I'm sorry you are having a bad week. But on the up side your post was completely and totally hysterical - very entertaining. :D

I agree, I think you need some "you" time, for sure :) You're a great parent, and its a hard job. Sometimes you just need a break!

I've had the same mail problems. I think you can cure it by marking through the bar coding when you put it back in your mailbox. . . because it does go back to a sorting center, and it will read that same bar coding. If you scribble or draw through it, they have to actually READ it for themselves. I always use a fat black sharpie through the bar code, then write in big letters - *delivered* to wrong house and underline the part they are getting wrong (street in my case). Most of the time it works.

Good Luck! (Brownies are definitely in order. . . maybe with whipped cream and fresh strawberries too?)

My greys didn't fall out after post-pregnancy either. What the hell is up with that?

I share your ire, though on different matters. I'm sharing a mental bottle of wine with you right now.

I too have a mail man who I am 100% convinced is drinking on the job. We get everyone else's mail and rarely our own. And I know he is reading my People magazine before he gives it to me because it just looks browsed through. You know? And then one time I got the magazine but it had no cover. And that's where the address is printed. So how did he know it was mine? And then three weeks later, I got the cover. Like he found it under the seat of the mail truck jeep thingie and went "Oh yeah, I need to return that." God I hope he's not reading it in the bathroom. Do you think he's reading it in the bathroom? Oh Jesus. He is, isn't he? I need to go wash my hands.

I'm unclear as to why you aren't out finding wine and drinking it asap.

You are clearly missing my house, where we had wine and brownies!

You are sooo not fat, I just saw you!

Woman, you need the recipe for 5-minute microwave brownies. Heaven, I tell you. I've been lurking your and your husband's site for ages. It's now time to share the love.

In microwaveable bowl melt 1 stick butter

1 c sugar
2 eggs
1/2 c cocoa
3/4 c flour
1/2 t salt
1 t vanilla
handful o chocolate chips

Mix well.

Microwave in greased 8x8 or 9x9 pan for about 5 minutes. A little less if you have a super-powered microwave or one above the stove. A little more if you have a crappy old-school style. Allow to cool if you can stand the waiting. They'll be perhaps a little gooey in the middle until they set up. They're super great with ice cream.

Oh, darling...

(And I have a feeling that Jodifur is correct about the not-fat thing.)

Oh that just sucks all around...

As for the morons employed at Miss Mia's gastroenterologist, they give medical professionals a bad, bad name.... they probably have a hs diploma or less :( Insist on talking directly to the doctor and insist on a call back that day. Good Lord, the amount of money your insurance company is shelling out and your copays, he can find time to call you- not one of his idiots... (I am ashamed to be included in this group of practitioners, although my patients get a phone call from me, an intelligent advanced practice nurse, as opposed to the village idiot). Hope the week looks up!

My return key broke months ago due to a toddler and a glass of tea. I feel your pain which is why I will share with you yet another brownie recipe. They require baking cocoa which I always have on hand because frankly, I can't just shovel it into my mouth without some preparation.

Good luck!

If we were local, I'd be ringing your doorbell with brownies. I love a brownie-baking excuse.

We once had a mail carrier who, if our building number but not our apartment number was not on our mail, would put a huge double question mark on the offending item. There were six apartments in our building, and our name was on the envelope. WHY THE BIG QUESTION MARKS OF CONFUSION??

Now catch up on your organized crime lingo. GEEZ, you've let things slip.

Wine is important to have, I have some, so if you need me to have a glass for you just let me know and I'd be more than happy to oblige.

Absolutely love your blog and your humor...I'm here via Michelle (smoochdog), then via Chris' cactus site. I *had* three brownies an hour ago, but alas, my 12, 6, and 3 year olds claimed them as their own... :)

I have chocolate chip cookies. will that help?

Ok I'm going to one-up Punkin's suggestion of 5-minute microwaveable brownies.... next time you're at the grocery store, pick up a couple of Betty Crocker Brownie Bowls, next to the cake mixes. All you do is add a couple of tablespoons of water, nuke it for about 30 seconds, and you have hot gooey brownie. It's so fast most of the time no one else realizes what you've done until it's too late and you've already crammed it down your gullet.

Also.... didn't I tell you to always keep a bottle of wine around? When you're a stay-home mommy there is no such thing as waiting until 5pm.

I think you used "cap in my ass" correctly. Nicely done.

I can't believe you were as patient as you were w/ the nurses on the phone. Impressive.

No wine in the house? Fix that.

Stupid mosquitos. I have a line of five running up my left leg, and a lovely anklet of bites on my right. There were very itchy, but thankfully are finally starting to fade now.

And wow, those nurses sound remarkably unhelpful.

Hope you have brownies and/or wine by now!

Ahh! We have similar mail issues. There are three streets in my little neighbourhood that have an address of 1241. I get Ernest Sanford's mail ALL the time but he lives 3 streets over. Some days, we get entire packets of mail for addresses not EVEN 1241. I really wonder where my mail is going. Unfortunately, it's the post office and not our mailman, because it's presorted and rubber-banded at the office.

So, here's what I'm predicting will happen soon:

You'll snap. You'll calmly grab a lighter and a can of Lysol for use as a makeshift (and cost-effective) flamethrower. As you walk out the door, you'll turn and say to Mia, "I'll be right back, sweetie. Mommy has to go do things to people."

And scene.

So, maybe a little wine might take the edge off.

I bet they'll send the lab results to 123 Rosebud Ave.

I make a mean brownie. I would mail some to you, but would worry that it would be delivered to your neighbors on Rosebud :)

I had a problem with the mailman delivering mail for the residents that lived in the house before us. So I put a note on the mailbox door in big letters: "Please, no mail for So-and-So, So-and-So, and So-and-So. They do not live here anymore." That really helped. Maybe you could put a similar note: "Please, no mail for 123 Rosebud Lane."

I'm taking you out for drinks.

You need it.

The lack of T's would make "tits" hard to convey. And to the person who lost her O key, she would have the same problem with "boobs". And where would nursing moms be without tits and boobs?

I'm glad I heard from you -- I have been lurking ever since.


Oh the loss of hair. I am thinking to change my name to Baldie.

Beth, this sounds like my life the past few weeks minus the bug bites. Buy a new home, get never ending mail from the previous owners and constant problems one after another that quite regular repairmen appointments. I wanted to deck my mailman who I have yet to meet as he seemed to not want to forward their mail.

Yesterday, opening a window an entire plantation shutter fell to the floor. Yep, I'm loving my new home.

Yeah, my trash people routinely piss me off, but I live in Jersey so I just smile politely at them and keep my big fat mouth shut.

Cut mommy some slack? Ha. If you figure out how to get that one accomplished, please let me know!

You are so funny!! I swear, reading your blog, is like reading a script right out of my own life ;) lol...especially the chocolate and wine part! I loved that!

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