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bending_sickleIf my coworker does not stop whistling RIGHT the fuck NOW I will not be responsible for my actions. I will shut him the fuck up.
*pulls hair out* and *pokes fingers into ears*
MAKE IT STOOOOOOP!!! MY SANITY IS BLEEDING OUT THROUGH MY EARS!!!!!
*cries*
ETA: I'm still hysterically nervous from the whistling. I'm also incredibly uncomfortable due to a complete lack of leg-room at the computer, forcing me to put my legs on the radiator off to the side, completely throwing out my back, and balancing the radio on my lap (so's I can drown out the whistles). And now I'm hungry...
All in all, not the most conducive to a post, so you'll be hearing about mom's first day with me some other time. Tough luck, duck.
ETA2: Also, started off the day peeved because Inés' first words to me in weeks this morning were an inquiry as to my university applications. She probably meant it in a nice way (which I doubt), but I found it an incredibly nosey thing to just blurt out as a one-monring sentence question. Fuck off. Besides, I'm incredibly pissed off at her for a dozen reasons, disliking her more and more. I ranted about this to mom yesterday, so I'm not keen on re-entering the topic. But just one example on how fuckingly incredibly rude she can be:
Our one phone - the one the other two forgot to pay on time, want to cancel and which still isn't cut and yet can only receive incoming calls - is in the kitchen. Not exactly private, but people don't tend to hang out there anyway, and there's doors. Mom called before leaving TO and I was alone in the apartment. There I am, chatting away happily for the first time in ages with ma when Inés comes home.
She then proceeds to clean the kitchen.
CLEAN THE KITCHEN.
Read that again. Yes, again.
All throughout my phone call, she was poking around the kitchen, washing dishes, sweeping... She was mopping under my feet, for fucks sake.
That, my dears, is the epitomy of rudeness. Mopping the floor is not a "do now or die" thing.
Needless to say I could not talk comfortably with mom, depite really needing and wanting to.
So yes, pissed off at her at her "thou shalt mop ze floor twice a week when it's your turn, scrubb the bathrub till your fingers bleed - btw, last time you cleaned you left it all dirty,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
bending_sickle, what up with that? - and clean the oven which we never use weekly. These are the rules. Which I made up now."
*foams at the mouth*
PS: So, so sorry about being all swear-wordy on you all these past few posts, but it's really just a meter. The more curses, the more peeved. And those who know me personally know I never swear aloud. Writing it works better for me anyhow.
* TPratchett, Reaper Man
*pulls hair out* and *pokes fingers into ears*
MAKE IT STOOOOOOP!!! MY SANITY IS BLEEDING OUT THROUGH MY EARS!!!!!
*cries*
ETA: I'm still hysterically nervous from the whistling. I'm also incredibly uncomfortable due to a complete lack of leg-room at the computer, forcing me to put my legs on the radiator off to the side, completely throwing out my back, and balancing the radio on my lap (so's I can drown out the whistles). And now I'm hungry...
All in all, not the most conducive to a post, so you'll be hearing about mom's first day with me some other time. Tough luck, duck.
ETA2: Also, started off the day peeved because Inés' first words to me in weeks this morning were an inquiry as to my university applications. She probably meant it in a nice way (which I doubt), but I found it an incredibly nosey thing to just blurt out as a one-monring sentence question. Fuck off. Besides, I'm incredibly pissed off at her for a dozen reasons, disliking her more and more. I ranted about this to mom yesterday, so I'm not keen on re-entering the topic. But just one example on how fuckingly incredibly rude she can be:
Our one phone - the one the other two forgot to pay on time, want to cancel and which still isn't cut and yet can only receive incoming calls - is in the kitchen. Not exactly private, but people don't tend to hang out there anyway, and there's doors. Mom called before leaving TO and I was alone in the apartment. There I am, chatting away happily for the first time in ages with ma when Inés comes home.
She then proceeds to clean the kitchen.
CLEAN THE KITCHEN.
Read that again. Yes, again.
All throughout my phone call, she was poking around the kitchen, washing dishes, sweeping... She was mopping under my feet, for fucks sake.
That, my dears, is the epitomy of rudeness. Mopping the floor is not a "do now or die" thing.
Needless to say I could not talk comfortably with mom, depite really needing and wanting to.
So yes, pissed off at her at her "thou shalt mop ze floor twice a week when it's your turn, scrubb the bathrub till your fingers bleed - btw, last time you cleaned you left it all dirty,
bending_sickle, what up with that? - and clean the oven which we never use weekly. These are the rules. Which I made up now."*foams at the mouth*
PS: So, so sorry about being all swear-wordy on you all these past few posts, but it's really just a meter. The more curses, the more peeved. And those who know me personally know I never swear aloud. Writing it works better for me anyhow.
* TPratchett, Reaper Man
no subject
Date: 2007-03-01 11:28 pm (UTC)and yes, cleaning the kitchen while someone is on the phone there is pretty rude. >:(
xxx
kit-kat