Come, my interwebs peeps, and make yourself feel better about yourselves by reading about what a doofus I am.
- Bravery FAIL: So, it’s gotten warm here in the past week. And with warm temperatures, suddenly and without warning, are bugs. Now, I was a little girl who was afraid of bugs — especially bees. SCREAMING afraid of bees. Pretty freaked out by spiders, too. Other bugs, I got my father to come deal with. Anyway, as an adult, I have made my peace with bugs, mostly. Spiders I have come to cohabit peaceably with. Bees, too. But there are some bugs which I am AAUUGGGHH NO FUCKING WAY about. Among these would be particularly ugly bugs, cockroaches, centipede thingies, earwigs, and silverfish. GAH. Gives me the heebiedejeebies just thinking about them. Anyway, this past week, we’ve had plenty of encounters to indicate the coming of spring. First off, I got out of the shower, and there was a silverfish on the wall. He was just doing his creeptastic silverfish thing, but I am not brave enough most times to grab a kleenex and mash the little sucker and drop it in the toilet, so what did I do? I TURNED ON THE HAIRDRYER AND HURRICANED HIS ASS OFF THE WALL. And then I dropped him in the toilet. (What?? Once in university I had nothing to kill a centipede-type bug with so I sprayed him with HAIR SPRAY. That sucker stuck to the ceiling for SIX WEEKS. I’ve vacuumed cockroaches. All’s fair in bugs and war.) Then, later in the week, Stinkerbelle found an uglybug in the foyer — one of those bugs that looks like a cross between a beetle and a grasshopper, that moves really slowly? Yeah, so. Because That Girl was standing there, I thought “WATCH HOW I AM A GOOD EXAMPLE” and got a piece of cardboard, scootched the uglybug onto the cardboard, and took him outside. But later, after Stinkerbelle had gone to bed, and I found ANOTHER of those uglybugs in the bedroom? I went and got BDH and made him deal with it. And another silverfish on the wall, too.
- Neurosis FAIL: I have been told, although I don’t really recall it, that my father had a problem with us kids, and grandkids too, making a mess and spilling food when we ate. It was a compulsion for him to continually clean it up, fuss at us about it, and generally be of the attitude that we should not make a mess when we ate. Like I said, I don’t recall it, but I heard about it quite a bit from my sisters. And sure enough, I have found myself fussing at Stinkerbelle about — you guessed it — making a mess when eating. Like she doesn’t have enough issues around food and eating, right? And yet I hear myself fussing at her way more than is reasonable, considering she’s three, and cleaning up, and feeling angry and annoyed at the mess and the spills and the dropping… It’s horrible. I do it unconsciously, and I have no idea where it comes from. It just DOES. I am perpetuating behaviours I don’t even remember.
- Food Safety FAIL: So, I am cheap, yes? Everyone knows this. So you will not be surprised to learn that the due date on a bag of milk passed one day, and the next day I thought, OH SURELY IT’S STILL FINE. And so I poured it on my oatmeal, and watched as it TURNED TO CHEESE. Whoops.
- Work FAIL: I work from home, very part time, for a friend, helping him with some administration/office tasks. One half-day a week, I’ll go in to do things I can’t do from home, like processing payments or whatever. My daughter goes to a sitter on those days. But fairly frequently, my sitter has been “unavailable”, and I have taken Stinkerbelle with me into the office, where she watches videos or colours or generally tries to be patient while I get some stuff done. I don’t enjoy those days, and neither does she, and increasingly as she gets older it is getting harder and more unfair for me to drag her along. But, against my better judgement, I still do, and yesterday I did as well. Fortunately, no one was in the office, because she was impatient and bored and generally behaving like a bored three year old. And I was frustrated and angry — with her, with myself, and with my boss for pushing me to do this. So after a frustrating and unproductive morning, I have resolved that if the occasion presents itself again when I have no sitter, I am going to have to just tell him NO. It’s not fair to her, and it’s not a positive or productive time for me. And if that doesn’t work for him, then that’s just too bad.
- Aging FAIL: I love coffee. LOVELOVELOVE coffee. Every morning, I drink two huge buckets full of coffee. Now, recently I mentioned that I have been having some issues with my stomach and cramps and real pain for about 18 hours, like I had eaten a rock and can feel it work its way painfully peristaltically through my entire digestive system. This began when I was in university, maybe 21 or so, and at that time it happened once or twice a year. My doctor at the time said it was likely an inability to process iron, which is hard on the bowel. Okay, so… twice a year — no biggie. Only over the years, slowly, this increased in frequency, until it happened once last week and then again this week. And, if I am honest, thinking about it rationally, I think the trigger may, in fact, be… COFFEE. My beloved coffee! I refuse to believe my favourite coffee could be so cruel! I mean, I know as people get older they can’t eat what they once did, but… NO! I am in denial. Until the whole nauseated and painful thing happens again, and then MAYBE I WILL CONSIDER IT.
- Blogging FAIL: Yes, I know, there’s a big gap in my calendar where posts should have been. WHAT I AM VERY BUSY AND IMPORTANT. Also, I was knitting.
- Bonus FAIL: I am making bread with a breadmaker, and it looks after two-and-a-bit hours not so much like a bread LOAF as a bread WAD. I think my yeast is dead. DEADDEADDEAD. I has a disappoint.