The blotter got, right on top of me, got me seein', E muthafuckin' T...
Things. And, what could be a rant.
- I *fiiiiiiinally* called to donate Skye. My old 1989 Ford Taurus, for those of you not in the know. So, I set up things with the Association for the Blind (why do blind people want my car? My NON TRANSMISSION HAVING car? Whatever. I support the blindness due to the mother thing.), and now I just need to call Mr. I Handle The Towing Portion of Your Donation tomorrow morning.
FUCK ME!! I JUST REMEMBERED I NEEDED TO GET MY THYROID MEDS!! ARRRGGG! Doing that at lunch tomorrow. Good thing I have spares.
- I was going to go to the gym tonight. Then I looked at my gas situation. And laughed. So no gym for me. I am poor. And I have no gas. And I'm bleeding. TMFI? I don't care.
I'm going to do some sit ups, core strengthening, and whatnot before Heroes, cause my theory is even if I cheesedick out on going to the gym, at least I'm doing *something*, right? So that's good.
- Called Janete to tell her the good news about the donation of my vehicle, so it can be moved from her parents driveway, since the sale of the house is going through on Thursday, and ended up on the phone with her for like, 45 minutes making up a list for her candle party. Hehehe.
- My Maynard mix cd wouldn't work at some point this morning. I freaked. I was like, it is BAD ENUFF that my speakers are going the way of the dodo, there is NO bloody need for the stereo to do that. It's fine now. I think she just was cold or something. Sillie car.
- That guy, from the other day? Who sent me the email thanking me for all the hardwork I did on his will while he sat next to me? Well, he came in to sign it today, and apparently had issues with something Brian said or did. So, he got Brian to reduce his fee by like, 60% (not for nothing, the guy DID have to fix like, a shitload of it, cause ya know, Patrick & Brian pay attention for 3 seconds and it's like shiny object syndrome). So after he finally signed it, he wanted to see ME again. Ack! So, I come out of my corner and he comes up to me all shaking my hand and like, whispers "Thank you again, SO much for everything you did. You figured out more in 5 minutes than that young guy did in an hour. *dramatic eyeroll* I just want you to know I appreciate you!"
Weird. But, cool.
- Today was review day like whoa. I sent an asston of shit back to Trish. It also was like, retard day. I swear. People sending their packages in *today*, ignoring the fact that we REQUIRE 5 BUSINESS DAYS to close a package, and asking to close tomorrow. And since we bend over backwards for everyone but employees, we comply. Whatevs.
- Ya know what I'm sick of? People assuming shit of me. Like, I hate it. If you assume something of me, even if it's something I'd generally offer, I get like, IRATELY pissed off. It comes from a LONG time of motherly issues, and I don't expect to fix it anytime soon, especially since it rarely comes up.
But when it does? I see red.
I also hate people who brag about shit they did in high school. Like, I was a roadie in the marching band. I loved every nasty, sweatie, annoying second of it. I really did. But I don't go around talking about how I was in it for four years.
Or how people think they're a better artist than me cause they were vice-president of some art club. I *don't* talk about my 12 years of art classes cause I do not think I am a good artist. You won't see my "art" around cause I think it is awful. I don't talk about my 12 years of chorus classes & voice lessons, cause, what's the fucking point? I'm not doing anything with it now, and I always thought I had a quasi crappy voice. Even though Alan, with his tone-deafedness, would disagree. ;)
People always seem to think they know more than me about certain subjects without even *realizing* that perhaps, MAYBE I do know more than they do. I just don't talk about my history with shit.
My past is what got me here today. I have some clear issues with shit. I do not talk about said shit often. Why? Cause I'm pretty good with dealing with it. If I need to bitch/vent/freak/ask for help, I do. Don't get me wrong. But I don't feel the need to show up people all the fucking time.
I did take psychology courses. You may have taken more, but, heh, sometimes, I know more than people who have fucking degrees. Ask my friends. They seem to trust my opinions and evaluations even if they don't fucking listen to me
. I did take science courses. I don't mention that I got A's in these things, because, what does it fucking matter? Does the fact that some teachers gave me A's on things even matter? I am not in college. It will not matter until I get back there.
I am no scientist. Most of my friends are UBERgeeks, and know *waay* more on the science subject than I ever will, since I didn't finish college.
But, do not be shocked when I can keep up with your lingo. Aside from the fact that between myself and my friends list, we have almost every ailment known to man, I can assure you. I will keep up.
I have a fascination with history. Hello? Rennie, much? I made someone laugh the other day when I recited Henry VIII's wives and how they died in what order. I do know some shit. Don't try to act like you know more. Even if you do, NEVER FUCKING ASSUME. It just makes you look like a fucking show off and asshole.
My life, if you've been keeping up with this journal for ANY length of time, OBVIOUSLY is not all sunshine and roses. That just *isn't* life. I had to move out. I had to live on my own. I've had to forge my own miracles from time to time. I have my pride, but I can't turn down a handout, cause who KNOWS when the next time I'll be able to x,y or z is.
However. Life, as much as she's mocked me, has been good to me. I have the bestest friends EVER. My family? Well, most of them are good eggs. Those who are not. Well, they have their own separate journal entries. Heh. They get vented to *a lot*. My support system is strong. I have a decent brain in my head, a support system Microsoft would envy, and the most amazing boyfriend in the world.
Life is nice.
If titles, high school trophies, and awards mean more to you than a sense of accomplishment or momentary pride, you should check your situation out. I'm proud of the awards I got in high school. I showed them off when I was *in* high school. After that. They were just things that made me who I am today.
The classes I aced.
The classes I failed.
The punishment I took.
The praise I received.
I don't think much on it. It is part of me now. I need no cognitive thought. I need no bragging/pity rights.
Just accept yourself, and your friends, and stop preaching to people.
She will be okay.
It'll be even better if you click the fucking lime. Dammit.