Frog and Goat

Did I mention my sister from Florida is in town? She’s here to visit with Grammie and she’s staying with us (she’s the reason I was using that darn vacuum).

Last night we were having dinner at Penny Lane pub and as she and the better-half were talking, I interrupted and accused them both of being such geeks. They answered my statement with a “well, duh” and accused me of the same thing. I guess it’s true. I have the laptop and desktop fired up right now.

Did you ever volunteer to do something at work because there was something that really got your goat every single time you saw it? If you just said No, I want you to explain–have you just never volunteered to do something that falls into the category of “other duties as assigned” or is there nothing at work that gets your goat?

Anyhoo, I whined about something and volunteered to make it better. A year later I finally got permission to fix the problem. Now I’m afraid that once the MAN discovers yet another one of my hidden talents (believe me, they are legion), I’ll be responsible for fixing this stuff all the time.

I wrote in my notebook journal, the one that’s pretty darn private, this morning and I filled the page with sadness. Sad story after sad story after sad story. You get the picture.

My Grammie (to quote the Niece) had a stroke while recovering from surgery. She couldn’t talk at all right after it happened. I was profoundly saddened and troubled. This is a woman who loves to chat and visit. My mother and her brother were visiting this morning and my Grammie said “aah-ite”. They were shocked and happy that something as close to “alright” came out of her mouth and they could understand what she meant. I told my mother that Grammie was just exercising her street-cred. All afternoon it has been aah-ite here at the homestead. Rock on Grammie.

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Last night we went out to dinner and I have finally assuaged my need for a BBQ sandwich. Ate more fries than I have in weeks to boot.

The table behind us was filled with co-workers from what has to be the loudest and shrillest office ever. I understand we were eating in a bar filled with the after work crowd. I’m down with that. What I’m not cool with is how effing loud a few of those people were at that table. One woman in particular is either a total moron or had had way too many drinks. She had that stupid “oh my god, totally, you know” thing going on. And, I don’t think she stopped to breathe. I practically jumped out of my skin at one point due to the high pitched keening. I told the better-half if I were a cat I would have run out of the place. Our check could not get to us fast enough.

Today at lunch a group of three women had the corner table and were ragging on everyone else in the restaurant. Unfortunately, I didn’t hear them bust on us. I was curious what they would say. I guess they didn’t see me miss my mouth. After they were done with lunch, they fiddled with the ring-tone on one of their phones for way too long. Yep, one phone, three fiddlers.