Michelle's Madness

Thankful

noreply@blogger.com (Michelle) — Thu, 26 Nov 2009 17:23:00 +0000

Thanksgiving is upon us yet again. The feast always seems to be the main focus, so I try to remind myself to think of all the things in my life that I am thankful for.

I am thankful for my wonderful husband, who loves and understands me like no other. I can’t imagine my life without him and am thankful every day that I’m lucky enough to have him.

I am thankful for my sons. They are two of the brightest little spirits I have ever met and I am very lucky to be their mother. They are healthy, happy and smart little boys with vivid imaginations and I love watching them discover the world around them.

I am thankful for my family, with whom we plan to share our Thanksgiving feast. I am thankful for all the things they have done for us over the years, and that we have a loving family to spend the holidays with. I’m also thankful that our parents live close enough to us that the boys can have wonderful relationships with them all.

I am thankful for my job. I don’t always like it, and my early shift is both a blessing and a curse, but I am lucky to have gainful employment in this bad economy.

I am thankful for having a roof over my head. So many people don’t have basic necessities such as a home and I am thankful that we have the means to provide for our family, even if it is a struggle at times. Many people are worse off than we are on our worst day.

I am thankful for being healthy. Sure, I have to see my shrink and take my meds, but I am happy that I have no major health issues to speak of.

Maybe all that I am thankful for is a cliché, the things one is supposed to be thankful for. But it can be easy to take those things for granted, so it’s good to remind myself of all that I have, especially in this busy, stressful season.

Weary

noreply@blogger.com (Michelle) — Tue, 06 Oct 2009 17:10:00 +0000

Have you ever just been weary with life? Not depressed, just weary. Like, I’m weary of getting up, every single day, showering, shaving and doing my hair every single day. Weary of driving to and from work, every single day. Weary of making dinner, every single day. Lather, rinse, repeat. Every single day. It just feels tedious.

Maybe part of it is because I’ve been not liking my job lately. I hate the phones, hate them hate them hate them, and I don’t want to talk to people. Maybe part of it is my super early shift that’s got me so darn tired all the time. Maybe part of it is that I’m totally stuck in a rut when it comes to making dinner. It’s basically been narrowed down to 4 or 5 things that I know the boys will eat, so we have those every week. I need to make more chicken dishes and make them deal with it. I just feel so bad when they don’t end up eating much and I know they’re hungry. I know I can’t force them to eat what they don’t want, so I end up making something I know they’ll like.

My bright spot, that isn't tedious, is coming home every day and spending time wtih my family. Plus, next week Brian and I go on our anniversary trip and I’m so excited. I’m just trudging through the days until I get to the fun stuff. Actually, I do that Monday through Friday, until I get to the weekend, so I can live my personal life and be with my loved ones. Trudging through the days is no way to live. I need to find a way to make peace with my job and with my daily routine. Maybe then the tedium will disappear.

Dear McDonalds: Fuck you!

noreply@blogger.com (Michelle) — Sun, 04 Oct 2009 20:21:00 +0000

I'm at work on this lovely Sunday, just killing time until I get to go home. Stupid me volunteered to work overtime, and now I'm stuck working 6 days in a row. So I get it in my head that I want McDonald's for lunch, dammit, since it's easy and close, and what I really wanted was a sausage mcmuffin with egg. I was totally jonesing for one, along with a caramel iced coffee. So I went to McD's on my first break, since by my lunchtime they wouldn't be serving breakfast anymore. Oh my god it tasted so good! The mcmuffin was divine and the iced coffee was just what I needed to help perk me up. Well, after eating healthier for weeks, my body simply isn't used to eating such grease-laden treats. Now my head is spinning and I feel kind of nauseous. So fuck you McDonalds, for tasting so yummy but then wreaking havoc on my poor body. Now I remember why I avoid fast food in the first place.

Stressity stress stress stress

noreply@blogger.com (Michelle) — Thu, 23 Jul 2009 15:12:00 +0000

There is simply too much going on with life right now. First of all, we found out that the owner of our house is selling it (got a nice big “for sale” sign in our lawn to prove it) and we have to move around the beginning of September. Fuck. I don’t want to move. Do you know how much crap we have that we now need to pack? Not to mention making the house look presentable, and not embarrassingly cluttered, whenever someone wants to do a walk through. And praying nobody steals our shit while on said walk through. On the plus side, the house we are moving to is close by and is bigger, supposedly nicer and has a custom kitchen. Why only supposedly nicer? Because we can’t see the inside until the end of August, when the current tenants move out. So we have no idea what the inside looks like or what the layout is. That is driving me nuts because we can’t plan out in our heads where our stuff is going to fit. I mean, how big are the bedrooms? How big are the living and family rooms? Plus we have no idea how much storage space, closet space, or cabinet and counter space there is. I did have a dream last night that we snuck into the house to check out the layout while the current tenants were gone. I wasn’t impressed. I’m sure the layout looks nothing like in my dream though. It was a pretty strange layout. At least the new house will be the same rent. It would be nice though if the property manager paid for our moving truck, since this isn’t exactly a move we’ve planned or saved for, but that will never happen.

Right around the same time as the move, soccer starts for Jacob. Of course I have no idea when his games or practices are, let alone where they are. I won’t find that out until the end of August (see a theme here?). Plus I’m supposed to start school at, you guessed it, the end of August, but the thought of doing it now makes me want to hyperventilate. There’s just too much going on.

To make matters worse, work wants me to start the 4:50 shift on Monday. That’s 4:50 AM for those of you not in the know. Yes, as in oh-dark-fifty. Fuckadoodledoo. As if I’m not already a walking zombie from doing the 5:50 shift.

On top of all that, pretty much all of our weekends in August are booked with some activity or another. Brian is going to be taking some days off the week before we move to do a lot of the packing, but I don’t want to leave it all up to him. It’s too early to pack right now, but I feel anxious because I’m not doing anything. I guess I can start packing up stuff we really don’t need out, like yearbooks. Though I’d rather just burn those and dispose of the ashes. That will be one less thing to move and I fucking hate them anyway. I suppose I can start weeding out stuff that we don’t want anymore, but I don’t think I’m organized enough or have the energy to do a yard sale. Being at work makes me feel all stressed because I have tons of things to do at home but can’t do them. Then when I’m at home I want to avoid all the stuff I need to do. And the cycle continues. Also, the quantity of coffee consumed this morning probably has something to do with my antsy feeling.

Calgon, take me away! I know that's so cliche. Maybe it should be "Ativan, take me away!" or "Rum and coke, take me away!". How about "Big fucking rubber mallet, take me away!"? Yeah, that sounds good.

My poor neglected blog

noreply@blogger.com (Michelle) — Wed, 01 Jul 2009 01:08:00 +0000

I've had some serious writer's block. I can't think of anything good to blog about. I just don't want to rant constantly; I'd like to have nice things to say, but either way I just can't think of anything worth more than a few sentences or so. Sigh.

Maybe it's my new meds. I think they have definitely put me in a different frame of mind and I don't always feel up to stretching out my thoughts into something interesting. So forgive me, my very few readers. I shall return with something interesting to say, I promise.

Office politics can suck it

noreply@blogger.com (Michelle) — Tue, 16 Jun 2009 17:49:00 +0000

Is it just me, or are people wussies? Why is it that the bitchiest and/or least approachable people are the ones who complain about someone else when they feel like that other person is rude or standoffish? And why am I usually that someone else? Seriously, I’m not completely unapproachable. But if you come over to get a status check on a project I’m completely engrossed in, be prepared for the straight, blunt answer. You want to know where I’m at, here ya go. What more do you want? Do I really need to sugarcoat things and make it all smell like roses so as not to offend the delicate sensibilities of the hypocrites? Newsflash: I don’t do sugarcoated. Sorry, if you want that, go see someone who is completely into being PC so they don’t offend anyone. Or a politician. If you want to know where I am in the project, ask and I’ll tell you. I really don’t see what the issue is. Now bugger off!

Things a 7 year old probably shouldn't know

noreply@blogger.com (Michelle) — Tue, 09 Jun 2009 17:35:00 +0000

Last night, Jacob was having a hard time getting to sleep. He said he was having bad dreams, but I know that he hadn’t even fallen asleep yet and just wanted to snuggle. So he came into my room and I let him snuggle with me for a few minutes. Well I was watching Family Guy, so of course he started watching with me. At one point Stewie said, “You’re going to (bleep)ing die in about 5 seconds…” and Jacob said, “I think he means ‘F word die’”. Indeed. So I told him, “You know, as a 7 year old, that’s probably not something you should really know” and he replied, “I won’t tell anyone”. As long as we have an understanding.

Then, a couple of minutes later, Stewie called someone a tall glass of poop juice and that certainly got raucous laughter from him. A good poop joke is always a hit with boys. On that note, I put him back in bed. As I was trying to say goodnight to him, he was laughing so hard that I starting laughing really hard, which only made him laugh harder. Brian came into the room to see what was so darn funny. Jacob kept repeating the line and I told him not to bust that out at school and he said, “I know, I won’t”. Here’s hoping…

Monday Again?

noreply@blogger.com (Michelle) — Mon, 08 Jun 2009 17:23:00 +0000

Monday, back at work
Oh where did the weekend go?
Banging head on desk

Soccer Star

noreply@blogger.com (Michelle) — Mon, 01 Jun 2009 01:25:00 +0000

Too bad he's not into it or anything!

Geezer

noreply@blogger.com (Michelle) — Tue, 19 May 2009 15:17:00 +0000

When did I get old? Okay, so I’m not really old, I’m only 31, but sometimes I feel old, like when I’m skimming through a People or an Us magazine. I look at the stories, the scandals and the fashion and I wonder, “Who the hell is this person?” Seriously, who is Ashley Tisdale? I have no idea who Shenae Grimes and Taylor Momsen are. And Adrian Grenier? No clue who he is, but he’s fuck ugly. I read these names and see their pictures and just wonder why anyone gives a damn.

As I try to figure out what these random people could possibly be famous for I am reminded of the stereotype of parents hating their kids’ music and the phrase “If it’s too loud, you’re too old” or something of that nature. And I wonder, “Am I a real-life grown up now?” Well, maybe I am, but I still love Green Day, dammit!

Highway Lunacy

noreply@blogger.com (Michelle) — Fri, 15 May 2009 14:44:00 +0000

I’ve been doing my 90 mile round trip commute for over 2 years, so I can do it in my sleep (but don’t worry, I won’t try that) so I’m used to crazies and traffic and whatnot and I don’t tend to freak out. But this morning I had one of the weirdest commute experiences. I’m not going to say it was the most terrifying, but it was pretty scary.

So I’m driving along on 99, which is still only 2 lanes at this point, minding my own business in the left lane, when the pickup truck in front of me suddenly starts pumping his brakes and slowing waaaaaay down, like from 70ish to 50ish. There was nobody in front of him, and I wasn’t anywhere near tailgating, so I have no idea why he did that. He then puts on his blinker to change to the right lane, gets halfway there then swerves violently back into the left lane. Seconds later he puts his blinker on again then changes lanes all the way, stays in the right lane for about 30 seconds (during which time I’m hanging back thinking that this dude is a total lunatic) then swerves back into the left lane again. Lather, rinse and repeat this whole scenario. Twice.

By this time I’m thinking this dude is either drunk or I offended his delicate sensibilities somehow. Finally he ends up in the right lane and is driving cool and I pass him because though he’s driving okay at the moment, he’s now doing about 55 behind a semi. I was hesitant to pass but there was someone behind me and I sure as hell didn’t want to get back behind this freak. So I pass and all seems well for about 30 seconds when he again violently whips into the left lane and comes up behind me with his foot to the floor, flashing his lights. I move into the right lane in front of the semi and the weirdo passes me, then swerves in front of me. He does his swervy driving for a while, and just when I’ve got my Bluetooth on to call CHP and report his ass, he swerves onto an exit and disappears. No point in calling the cops at that point; what would I tell them? “Hey, some guy was driving erratically and he exited at this exit and turned right?” Yeah, they’ll put a priority on that call.

The moral of the story is: Just because it’s 4:30 in the morning, that doesn’t mean your commute will be psycho-free. Because clearly this guy was fucking crazy.

Reason #386 why medications suck

noreply@blogger.com (Michelle) — Thu, 14 May 2009 19:22:00 +0000

How in the world can people enjoy being spun? Seriously. My stupid medications (legal prescription ones, in case you are wondering) are making me feel all spun and woohoo and shit and it sucks. I feel all weird and restless and crawly. Blah! I can’t think straight and just existing is difficult. And I’m not freakin’ productive at all. So there’s no way I’m going to get a block of wood and whittle it down to a baseball bat or organize a collection of dust bunnies or try to build an ark out of Legos. And I won’t be deciding anytime soon that my washing machine looks better on the front lawn, or that my house should have cat ears on the roof.

Emotions According To Logan

noreply@blogger.com (Michelle) — Wed, 06 May 2009 03:23:00 +0000

We were goofing around before the boys went to bed tonight and Logan was showing me his different "faces". Here is a selection:

Happy Face:

Sad Face:

Mad Face:

And then on to the silly faces:

Silly Face #1:

Silly Face #2:

Silly Face #3:

Silly Face #4:

And Jacob got in on the silly face act too:

Things I Don't Get - April 2009 Edition

noreply@blogger.com (Michelle) — Fri, 24 Apr 2009 23:06:00 +0000

1. Kids' toys that make noise yet have no off button, or even a volume button. Or the toys that have an off and a volume button, but the default volume when you turn it on is the loudest it can go. Mom smash.

2. When people say "ridonculous". Stop saying that. Seriously. You sound like a douche.

3. Heidi Montag and Spencer Pratt. When the fuck are they going to die??? And what are these no talent media whores even famous for? I've never actually seen their show because my brain would melt from the stupidity, but they are in every damn magazine. They create opportunities for the paparazzi to "accidentally" find them and then totally ham it up for the cameras like it's a big surprise to see them. They probably have all the various paparazzo on speed dial. Plus, Spencer just looks pervy and creepy; just looking at him makes me want to go scrub with boiling water.

You may be wondering where her other horn is. Well, I'll tell you where it is. I'm imagining that it's now buried deep in his scalp because when he eagerly jumped to pose for yet another picture, he hit his head up against hers really hard without aiming properly. Ah, happy thoughts.

4. When spelling something, why in the world do people feel the need to say "H as in Harry (or Henry)"? What other fucking letter sounds like H, requiring them to clarify what letter they mean? Do they think I'm going to misunderstand and think they are spelling a word that has an 8 in the middle of it? Like "bone8ead" or "dips8it"? This also applies to the letters A, J, L, O, Q, R, U, W and X.

5. Jeans that come already "distressed" or ripped. And I can't believe people spend hundreds of dollars on them. I could spend 20 bucks on a pair of jeans and shred them myself and save tons of money. And my son shreds his without even trying! Why in the world would I buy him jeans that are already "distressed"? Those will rip in about 10 seconds flat. He needs strong jeans. Whoever designs these jeans for boys never had boys. And whoever designs them for women are just fucking morons.

Okay, show's over, move it along, nothing to see here. Until next time...

Books: The Other White Meat

noreply@blogger.com (Michelle) — Mon, 13 Apr 2009 21:23:00 +0000

I miss reading. I have always loved to read, but now I either lack the time or the attention span. When I do have the time, I never know what to read because I never have time to search for books, either to buy or to get from the library.

How could I lose touch with this simple pleasure? I learned to read super early, like when I was 2. I don’t remember a time in my life when I could not read. In fact, I can’t remember an adult reading to me at all because once I learned to read it was basically just left to me to entertain myself with books. No stories read to me before bed, at least not that I can remember. I also skipped part of kindergarten because of my literacy. Apparently I was running around and doing somersaults during class and I was labeled as a discipline problem (nowadays, I’d be labeled ADHD and force-fed drugs). Finally my parents asked what we were learning and the teacher informed them, “We are learning the alphabet, one letter per week. We are up to R”, or some such nonsense. They told the teacher to give me a book. It turns out I was bored and already reading at a fourth grade level. In junior high, I would constantly get in trouble (in Language Arts class, no less) for reading my own books and not paying attention to the lessons. The difference between there, their and they’re… okay, check, got it, now leave me alone. In high school, when the class was taking turns reading a book aloud, I would get bored while some people struggled and I would read ahead. Then when it was my turn, I would be so far ahead that I had no clue where the rest of the class left off and I would get in trouble for not paying attention. I always hated when they would have us take turns reading aloud; I would get bored, and I prefer to read at my own pace. That’s not to say that I’m any better than the people who struggled; it’s just something I excelled at and didn’t need the extra assistance that some students required. Some people in my classes would talk about how uncool reading was; I’d just ignore them, book in hand. Reading was an escape. It was an adventure and way to stimulate my brain.

Even when I was out of school, I was always reading. I’ve always liked suspenseful books, but I’m not married to one particular genre. In fact, when asked what kind of books I prefer, I really can’t answer that question. One of my favorite books is “Icebound” by Dr. Jerri Nielsen, which is her account of the year she spent “wintering over” in the South Pole, where she discovered she had breast cancer. I also loved “I’m Eve”, about one woman’s multiple personality disorder, which is the basis for the movie “The Three Faces of Eve”. Another good one is “The Nanny Diaries”, which isn’t actually a true story, but is fiction based on the real-life experiences of two former New York nannies. But I wouldn’t say that I love the entire genre of memoirs, because there are some that are booooooring. “An Unquiet Mind: A Memoir of Moods and Madness” for instance, was pretty lame and repetitive. Since it’s a memoir of a bipolar woman (who also happens to be a psychiatrist) I thought I would be able to relate to it better, but it was a letdown in the same sense as “The Blair Witch Project”; it would build and build and there would be suspense and then… nothing. Totally anticlimactic.

Besides some memoirs and some suspense books, I also like the “chick lit” genre: some drama, humor and romance, but not over the top like a Harlequin Romance novel. These are fun “no-brainer” reads that are great for reading on vacation or a sick day. But I certainly don’t want to make that the staple of my reading material. I just don’t always have the attention span or brain power to process a heavy book like I used to, mostly from just having way too much on my plate on a daily basis, which is compounded by my unholy weekday waking hour. So when I go to the bookstore or the library, I generally have no clue where to even begin looking. Some books sound decent, but I always want to be really sure so I don’t waste my time on something that turns out to be lame. Of course, how will I know unless I try? I think the wanting to be absolutely sure about a book before committing is a throwback from hours spent standing in Barnes & Noble, trying to narrow down my choices and get the best options for my money; otherwise I would have always ended up spending a small fortune on books because there are so many that are interesting.

So, I need to get reading on a regular basis back into my life. Seriously. I need to make use of websites such as What Should I Read Next and reacquaint myself with the library. Intellectually I know that just because someone doesn’t read much it doesn’t mean they are dumb. But because reading was always such a big part of my life, I personally feel somewhat dumber for not reading books more often like I used to. Most days all my poor brain can handle is an article from Glamour or Reader’s Digest. Sometimes I can barely read that because of all the interruptions (my boys talk constantly during movies so about every other sentence I read is interrupted with chatter by a little person who expects some sort of response to a rhetorical statement). And I go to bed early (due to the aforementioned unholy waking hour) so I can’t spend a lot of time with a book in the evenings before bed, though I really ought to try.

Today I have started a new book called “Holy Cow: An Indian Adventure”, given to me by a friend at work (thanks Brook!). It is also a memoir, and though I’m only a couple of chapters in, I really like it so far. And I’m feeling inspired to find a book to read next. So, what should I read next?

Why is it...

noreply@blogger.com (Michelle) — Sun, 12 Apr 2009 22:45:00 +0000

...that when I finally have a day to myself, I end up just doing nothing? I have tons of stuff to do around the house, but of course I don't want to spend my day doing chores. But there are many projects and hobby-type stuff that I would like to do, and I dream about doing but never have time for, and then when I have time I just want to sit on my ass and do nothing.

Ah, the plight of the working mom.

Playing well with others

noreply@blogger.com (Michelle) — Wed, 08 Apr 2009 22:51:00 +0000

So last night I’m sitting at the dining room table with the boys, and I started thinking about some of their differences. Sure, they have many similarities; they both love Star Wars, superheroes and Transformers. They love to play outside with their friends and go to the park. They love the same movies. And of course, everything Jacob does, Logan has to do too, because Jacob is the coolest person Logan has ever met.

But it’s their differences that are very interesting. Logan wakes up smiling; Jacob wakes up grumbling, once you finally get him to wake up. Jacob is a picky eater, whom we must convince to try new things; Logan is game to try just about anything. He even loves broccoli. Jacob is a little negotiator (I told him if my company ever wants to buy another company that I would tell them to give him a call; he asked if I was kidding him); when asked to do something, Logan will usually just say, “Okay!” and do it. (Usually.) When doing anything that is considered a competition, Logan cheers when anyone wins, while Jacob gets annoyed when he isn’t the winner. We’ve been working on this by playing Chutes and Ladders. It’s actually a great way to show him that just because he is last, it’s not impossible for him to win. Someone might land on a chute, or he might land on a ladder. His sportsmanship has been so much better this week, even last night when he did come in last. He knows that there will be another game and another chance to win. This is a huge breakthrough for him.

I remember the first time we ever played Chutes and Ladders with Jacob. Logan was too little to play, so it was just the three of us. Jacob won the first game, but when he lost the second game, he got all kinds of pissed off. To the point where we put the game away and didn’t play again for a long, long time. We played this weekend and he started to do the same thing: he won the first game, but when he was behind on the second game, he started to complain that he didn’t want to play anymore. He didn’t get too angry though, so that was a nice change from the little beast he became when he was younger. Hopefully it will just continue to get better.

The next task: teaching him to win gracefully!

Life's tunes

noreply@blogger.com (Michelle) — Thu, 02 Apr 2009 23:20:00 +0000

When I drive to and from work everyday, I am alone, with my thoughts and my music. Commuting without my tunes would drive me insane with boredom. What I listen to varies from day to day. Some days, I might be cranky and in the mood for angry music; other days, I’m feeling pretty good and I want upbeat, fun songs. Still other days, I want to listen only to songs that I can really sing along to. And every so often I have the day where I’m not quite sure what I want to listen to.

So, in my 2.5 years of commuting, I have occasionally thought to myself which song would be on the soundtrack if my life were a movie. Of course that can vary depending on my mood, but there are some definite must-haves:

“Change Your Mind” by Sister Hazel
This song is an absolute must. It reminds me that I can change who I am, that if I’m in a bad mood, I don’t have to be. I can decide that I don’t want to be miserable and work on improving my frame of mind, and that I can do it simply to make myself feel better.

"Blankest Year" by Nada Surf
This is my “oh well, who cares?” song. How can one argue with the chorus: “Oh fuck it, I’m gonna have a party”?

“Just Another Day In Paradise” by Phil Vassar
I used to like country music more than I do now (which is not much), but this song has always spoke to me. It’s about the daily grind, crazy kids, too much to do, living life in an imperfect world, but not wanting to be anywhere else. Good stuff.

“Why Can’t I?” by Liz Phair
This is my ring tone for my hubby and has been for years. This song came out well after we got together, but it always makes me think of him. Partly because we were both kind of involved with other people when we met (oops!) but mostly because not long after we met, I was so crazy for him I had tons of butterflies and he was all I could think about. Sappy, yeah, but true.

“Brown Eyed Girl” by Van Morrison
This is Brian’s ring tone for me. I think the reasoning is pretty obvious, but for those of you who might be a little slower than others, I have brown eyes and I’m his girl. Duh.

“Mahna Mahna” by Cake
Everyone has to have a silly song, and this one is mine. Here's the original. I love The Muppet Show!

“Seether” by Veruca Salt
This is one of my bad day songs. It reminds me of the psycho girl inside me that’s just waiting to be unleashed, the one I have to work extra hard to tame on a crappy day.

“Stir It Up” by Bob Marley
Because every life’s soundtrack should have a chillin’ Bob Marley song, and this is my favorite.

“A Little Less Conversation” by Elvis Presley
The one you hear in the opening credits for the TV show “Las Vegas”, not the annoying remixes. Just a fun song.

“Move Along” by The All-American Rejects
I listen to this song when I’m bummed and trying to remind myself to “just keep swimming”.

“The Boogie Bumper” by Big Bad Voodoo Daddy
Fun instrumental (mostly) that makes me wish I knew how to swing dance!

I’m sure I’m forgetting something, but I’ll just consider this the soundtrack to the first movie. Who knows what the sequel will bring!

A conversation with Mini-Me

noreply@blogger.com (Michelle) — Mon, 02 Mar 2009 02:02:00 +0000

Let me start by saying that Jacob is turning into me more and more everyday. So any of you who know me will understand why the following exchange did not end in punishment or admonishment of any kind (other than to tell him not to say this to anyone else!). We were in the car, driving to my mother-in-law's house, talking about Transformers.

Jacob: "All Transformers are too hard for Mommy." (followed by riotous laughter from the males in the vehicle)

Me: "Yeah? Bake a cake!"

Jacob: "Bite me!" (followed by laughter from all)

Brian said that comment was sent straight through from God himself. It was said with such perfect timing, I'm actually very proud. I can't possibly get mad at him for saying that because Brian and I have conversations like that on a regular basis, jokingly of course. It would be different if he had said it out of anger and slammed his bedroom door on me. But no, it was just another demonstration of the sarcasm that is so prevalent in our genes. (Thanks Dad!)

Though I do have to say that it can be difficult dealing with a mini male version of myself on a daily basis. But as long as we all maintain a somewhat compatible sense of humor, I'm sure things will be okay.

Sometimes, your day can be summed up in one word

noreply@blogger.com (Michelle) — Fri, 27 Feb 2009 22:25:00 +0000

FUCK!

Friday Haiku

noreply@blogger.com (Michelle) — Fri, 20 Feb 2009 20:15:00 +0000

I’m sitting at work and just thinking up haiku as a way to keep myself somewhat sane. Enjoy!

Today is Friday
Yay, pizza and movie night!
I love being home

I need more coffee
Fuzzy thoughts and can’t think straight
and cranky as hell

Silly girls babble
Blah Blah Blah, shut the fuck up
Really annoying

I crave Chinese food
It’s been calling out to me
More potstickers please!

Drugs, so many drugs
Can’t imagine swallowing
all those freakin’ pills!

Damn work is cutting
into my sudoku time
Stop calling me, jerks!

Yes, I finally
figured out sudoku. Yeah!
No more confusion

Bitchy people call
So mad! Not my fault that you
faxed to wrong number

Petty rant for the day...

noreply@blogger.com (Michelle) — Tue, 03 Feb 2009 22:48:00 +0000

I HATE when I’m talking on the phone with someone and they are chewing their food or gum and smacking their lips. I don’t want to hear your lip smacking eating noises, you cud-chewing cow! At least close your mouth or take the phone away from your mouth until you’ve swallowed whatever it is you’re gnawing on.

Common courtesy, decency, and manners: completely out the window...

Maybe I haven't heard everything... until now?

noreply@blogger.com (Michelle) — Fri, 30 Jan 2009 00:06:00 +0000

Whenever I think I’ve heard every kind of crazy there is, someone surprises me. You would think I wouldn’t be shocked anymore, but damn it if my jaw just doesn’t drop some days. Of course next month I’ll hear something that trumps this, but for now… well, all I can say is WOW. And when I say 'WOW' what I mean is that I am weeping for our childrens' future. Because the idiots are only multiplying.

So here I am at work, minding my own business, answering calls as they come in, and just doing my best to deal with the crazies. (I swear I’m in the crazy queue today, because I’m getting more yahoos than usual). I get this call from a pharmacy wanting help with processing a claim for one of our members. Okay, nothing unusual about that. So apparently this member has another insurance as his primary, at least according to Medicare. The guy from the pharmacy says the member no longer has the other insurance. I told him that we would need documentation faxed to us that shows the other coverage is terminated. He asked who we needed it from, and if he could just write something on a piece of paper and fax it. Um, noooooo…. That is not considered proof: "evidence sufficient to establish a thing as true, or to produce belief in its truth". If I could simply write something on a piece of paper and that made it true, I would be the Queen of the World with unlimited funds. Because of course, I could just write my “bank balance” on a piece of paper and that would make it so. I’m sure the bank teller would just hand me the key to the vault and tell me to help myself. That would be sweet…

But that isn’t even the crazy part. I told him that we need something like a letter from Medicare or the other insurance company showing that the coverage is no longer active. Then he said…

Are you ready?

I’m not making this up.

Seriously, this is verbatim.

“You need to lower your expectations of this patient because he doesn’t speak English!”

I'm sorry mister, I must have hallucinated because you couldn't have possibly said what I think you did.

Oh shit, he did say that.

I’ll repeat that in case your head just exploded due to the sheer stupidity of the statement: “You need to lower your expectations of this patient because he doesn’t speak English!”

Oh, how Carlos Mencia would love to see his point proven once again. People can’t keep up so we lower the standards.

To top this off, the member’s son, WHO SPEAKS ENGLISH, was standing right there at the pharmacy. The caller from the pharmacy (I’m sorry, but I refuse to call him a technician or a pharmacist; I just can’t give him that kind of credit) told him what we needed, and I heard him say it in English. Okay, so if we have to lower the expectations for his dad because he can’t speak English, what’s this guy’s excuse? Do we lower the standards for him because he’s a fucktard? And why do I have to lower my expectations because he’s a flaming imbecile? If he can't handle something as simple as "get a letter from the company that says the coverage has ended", then maybe he shouldn’t be taking care of his father’s affairs. Or wandering the streets unattended. Or be allowed to continue the bloodline.

Of course, it’s not his fault he’s stupid. Society hasn’t pushed him to excel, and why should he try to excel on his own when society will coddle him and lower the standards even more to meet his less-than-mediocre intelligence? We wouldn't want his self-esteem to suffer, right? We don't want to be mean by actually expecting people to think and shit.

Now everybody sing along with the "Dee Dee Dee Song", while I bang my head on my desk for a while...

Mind of Mencia

Dee Dee Dee Song

Race Jokes
Political Humor

Stand-Up
Play Carlos Mencia Games

An evening alone and a day to myself

noreply@blogger.com (Michelle) — Mon, 19 Jan 2009 00:47:00 +0000

The boys are at Camp Gramma's and Brian went to a friend's house last night to stay and watch the game today (his friend lives an hour away). So I've been alone since about 5 PM yesterday evening. I had all these things planned to do while I was alone: work on some play lists for my Zune, pick some pictures to have printed at Longs, do laundry, clean the kitchen, make some stuff for lunches this week and some chicken for salads, watch a movie, work out. Yeah, so much for plans. I loaded the dishwasher and threw in some laundry. I forced myself to work out this morning because I really need to get back on track after being sick. I am not at 100% yet, which was quickly realized when I was trying to do crunches and could barely manage 10 because I'm still so tired. I suppose I should really work on the food for the week. What I actually got done: watched a bunch of episodes of Untold Stories of the E.R. on TLC, plus a couple of movies, played on the computer for a while, and took a nice long nap. Hey, who the hell wants to actually do something when the kids are away and you have quiet time to yourself???

Pharmacy Patient Etiquette

noreply@blogger.com (Michelle) — Fri, 16 Jan 2009 01:03:00 +0000

Ah, this makes me long for the good ol' days of working retail pharmacy. Wait a minute... no it doesn't!

Pharmacist's guide to patient etiquette

1. Be sure to stare at the pharmacist/technician while your prescriptions are being filled. Staring at the pharmacist/technician makes him or her work faster.

2. Never remember the name of the medications you want refilled. By calling it “the little white pill,” you are sure to receive the correct medication.

3. When calling in eight prescriptions or more, always arrive at the pharmacy to pick them up within 10 minutes. It is okay to hurry pharmacists/technicians; if they make a mistake, it won't kill you or anything.*

4. Feel free to ask the pharmacy staff for the exact price of your prescription before it is filled. The staff should know every co-pay for every insurance plan.

5. Always ask how long it will take to fill a prescription. If you're lucky, you will get it for free if it's not ready in 30 minutes or less. Also, be sure to keep asking if the prescription is ready every five minutes-pharmacists often keep prescriptions to themselves after they are filled just to tick you off.

6. Be sure to complain about the co-pay. The co-pay is set on the whim of the pharmacist and has nothing to do with the insurance company.

7. It is not necessary to present your insurance card, or even know the name of the company. Pharmacists/technicians are psychic and know everyone's insurance.

8. Pharmacies encourage forgery. When you pick up a prescription for someone else, please forge his name.

9. Upon calling in a refill for a maintenance medication without refills, always question why the doctor has to be called when you've taken the same medication for years. It is only a myth that prescription medications have to be ordered by doctors.

10. Always question why the insurance company is so concerned about your getting Prilosec 10 days too soon. After all you're paying $5.00 for it, and that's all it costs.

11. Over-the-counter displays are put there in order to entertain children. Please encourage them to play with any item and even open one or two.

12. Make sure you save all your old insurance cards. One of pharmacist's/technician's favorite games is to guess which one is current.*

13. When you call in a prescription, just say “Can I have my pills filled?” You can be sure the pharmacist/technician will recognize your voice and know which medication you want.

14. Pharmacists are some of the few people whose ears work independently. So when you see a pharmacist on the phone, feel free to just start talking – his free ear will hear everything.

15. The pharmacist is the only person in the store who is really capable of writing down your refill numbers, so when you call, demand to speak to a pharmacist.

16. Try to do all your pharmacy business on a Monday. The pharmacist/technicians will appreciate it.

17. Another pharmacist favorite is to have a patient walk up and ask, “Can I pick up my prescription?” Guessing who you are is another pharmacist game.

18. When there are several people ahead of you near the pickup counter, always stand right at it. The pharmacist/technician will know how important you are and fill your Rx first, and, if not, you can listen to juicy patient-pharmacist conversations.

19. If you are not asked for you insurance card, it means that the pharmacist/technician wants to fill your prescription and then, after you are told how much it is, you can shout, “I have insurance.” The pharmacist/technician will be glad to do it over.

20. When you need a really old prescription filled, tell the pharmacist that you have a standing order for it. This works especially well if the doctor who wrote it is dead.

21. When you get a new insurance card, make sure you keep it a secret. The pharmacist/technician would rather phone your old company to find out why your Rx is being rejected.*

22. When you drop off a refill bottle, tell the staff you'll pick it up either today or tomorrow. This type of clarity helps the pharmacist/technician plan their workload.

23. When you order your prescriptions and the pharmacist/technician asks which ones, respond by saying, “All of them.” They will know.*

24. When asked for the number of your prescription, respond by saying, “I don't know, you have it there.” The pharmacist/technician will know.

25. When asking for a refill on a pain medication, make sure you wait until the last one is gone and then try to call late on Friday afternoon. It will be easy for the staff to get in touch with the doctor for a new Rx.*

26. When picking up your prescription, be sure to look over the technician's/clerk's shoulder at the prescription shelf for your prescription, and point and say "It's right there!" They love to guess your name and what shelf you are pointing at.

27. While waiting for your prescription to be filled, be sure to complain loudly and repeatedly that it's taking too long and wonder why the pharmacist/technician doesn't just take the box off the shelf and slap a label on it. Surely yours is the only prescription that needs to be filled.

#3: Yes, and please get pissed at the techs when your stuff isn't ready. Because of course there is nobody on the planet who needs meds besides you.

#12: I always wanted to slap the shit out of these patients...

#21: I can't tell you how much I love getting the calls from the confused and often irritated pharmacy wondering why the hell we aren't paying for the patient's meds anymore. That's awesome.

#23: "All of them"? How about "fuck you!"?

#25: Yeah, I wanted to slap the shit out of these ones too. I especially loved the ones who would try to get me to just give them a refill because they "really need" their medication. Yes, I would love to lose my job, my license and possibly be fined and jailed FOR YOU. Now when I get calls from these people, I want to tell them that they should learn how to count so they know how many pills they have left, and to piss off. I call that 'Tuesday'.