wordinista (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wordinista) wrote2005-04-14 04:46 pm
wordinista) wrote2005-04-14 04:46 pm
*snarl*
I hate, hate, hate, HATE it when family members "look" for me on AIM or MSN messenger.
Are you there?
Helloooo? Are you THERE?
Where are you? Why aren't you answering me?
Where aaaaare you? Huh? How come you're not answering?
Are you there yet? Are you back?
And so on. I also hate it when someone calls my cell phone, and I don't answer for one reason or another (I'm teaching a class, or I'm in the SHOWER, or I'm driving and don't want to cause an accident), and then they complain that I'm "so hard to get a hold of."
And, honestly, is it truly necessary to leave me long, detailed voicemails that ramble on for five minutes? I've stopped listening after 30 seconds. Tell me who you are, and what you want, and I'll call you back. Some woman called about wanting to check our sprinkler system, and just... rambled. And it was annoying. If you want me to make sure to let you in, FINE. But you don't have to give me a detailed history about how long you've been doing sprinkler maintenance on the house!
And while I'm bitching, can I just say that when a certain Significant Other O' Mine tells me he "doesn't care" how long it takes us to get all the boxes gone, and get settled into the new place, and when I LISTEN to that advice, it means I'm not going to take kindly to it when he compares how long it's taking us (me) to get us settled into the new place to how long it took us (me) to get us settled into the old place (about 3 weeks).
I kid you not:
Him: "You know, you got everything put away, and the apartment feeling like a home in, like, under a month."
Me: "Yeah. And I wasn't working OR taking classes over the summer. Remember that part?"
And Mom just called. Sounds like grampa's having an adverse reaction to his pain meds; she's taking him to the ER. (He went in for another surgery on Tuesday -- his growth had started to return, and they needed to get all of it gone before they can start radiation).
AND, the girls are spraying things. Must. Get. Them. SPAYED. (Please, please don't tell me it won't help the situation after the fact, because with the mood I'm in right now, telling me that might make me do something rash -- like taking them to the SPCA.)
*deep breath in*
*deep breath out*
How can I be in such a foul mood on a day off? I don't get it.
Are you there?
Helloooo? Are you THERE?
Where are you? Why aren't you answering me?
Where aaaaare you? Huh? How come you're not answering?
Are you there yet? Are you back?
And so on. I also hate it when someone calls my cell phone, and I don't answer for one reason or another (I'm teaching a class, or I'm in the SHOWER, or I'm driving and don't want to cause an accident), and then they complain that I'm "so hard to get a hold of."
And, honestly, is it truly necessary to leave me long, detailed voicemails that ramble on for five minutes? I've stopped listening after 30 seconds. Tell me who you are, and what you want, and I'll call you back. Some woman called about wanting to check our sprinkler system, and just... rambled. And it was annoying. If you want me to make sure to let you in, FINE. But you don't have to give me a detailed history about how long you've been doing sprinkler maintenance on the house!
And while I'm bitching, can I just say that when a certain Significant Other O' Mine tells me he "doesn't care" how long it takes us to get all the boxes gone, and get settled into the new place, and when I LISTEN to that advice, it means I'm not going to take kindly to it when he compares how long it's taking us (me) to get us settled into the new place to how long it took us (me) to get us settled into the old place (about 3 weeks).
I kid you not:
Him: "You know, you got everything put away, and the apartment feeling like a home in, like, under a month."
Me: "Yeah. And I wasn't working OR taking classes over the summer. Remember that part?"
And Mom just called. Sounds like grampa's having an adverse reaction to his pain meds; she's taking him to the ER. (He went in for another surgery on Tuesday -- his growth had started to return, and they needed to get all of it gone before they can start radiation).
AND, the girls are spraying things. Must. Get. Them. SPAYED. (Please, please don't tell me it won't help the situation after the fact, because with the mood I'm in right now, telling me that might make me do something rash -- like taking them to the SPCA.)
*deep breath in*
*deep breath out*
How can I be in such a foul mood on a day off? I don't get it.
*pets teh angry!bunneh*