Mewsings from Lowecat (aka Indianacat)

My rants, ravings, and overall 'mewsings' on life, the universe, and everything.

Friday, October 14, 2011

Mind Your Own Damn Business!

Ever since I had gastric bypass surgery over seven years ago, I've had a problem with drinking. No, I'm not an alcoholic. In fact, unlike my youth when I could drink quite a bit before gettin' thoroughly lit, it only takes a thimbleful of booze to make me drunk. So I don't.

The drinkin' problem I have is caused by the bypass, which means I have a internal stomach about the size of a softball or a fist. Not very big. It doesn't hold much, which is why I've managed not to backtrack and regain the weight. It also means that drinkin' sodas is a little hard for me. Hell, I can make a 12 pack last a month. Ask the DH, as he often gets into my stash of diet when his regular runs out. The carbination hurts me too much. I have to let soda go a little flat.

Also, the small pouch means that drinkin' for me is like pouring liquid in a funnel, too much, and it overflows the funnel, makin' a mess. If I drink too much, too soon, it's messy. And uncomfortable. I require hydration, though, and since I also can't chew gum (the possibility of swallowing gum and 'gummin' up the pouch, no pun intended is downright scary), I chew ice. It gives me the chew I crave, and the liquid I need, plus no calories.

There are other beneficial effects from eating ice, but it's not for the squeamish. Suffice it to say that fiber isn't a concern.

So, having said that, at work, I tend to get a few cups of ice at a time to see me through to first break. By few, a couple of 24 oz cups and three 20 ouncers. Some of the ice melts, but the crushed cubes are satisfying. I try not to much too loud as it can annoy people.

It really annoys me when people remark upon the amount of ice that I take at one time; just as it still annoys me when people comment upon how much I do or don't put on a plate. Hell, what business is it of theirs, anyhow? I'm leavin' plenty of ice in the dispenser for everyone else, it's not hurtin' them for me to have ice, so why the comments?

Course, people will comment upon how much I eat, and as the DH has learned, that is a very touchy subject with me. I don't comment upon the amount on all y'all's plates, kindly keep yer comments to yourself about my plate and glass ware, thank y'all very much.

Feels good to let it out. End of line.

Thursday, October 13, 2011

I Had a Hissy Fit Today

The day started out pretty well today. Despite grey skies and chilly temps, it's also Thursday, which is one more day closer to Saturday. I'd gotten some writing on my fanfic done before bedtime, had played with the cats, tormented/talked to the dear husband, got to wear jeans to work and had a relative uneventful drive to work (too friggin' cold to take Tig, the bike!).

Then I get to work and get pissed. Real pissed. It was a true 'who moved my cheese moment'. It takes a lot to get me pissed at work, rudeness is one of those triggers. She Hulk has nothin' on me when it comes to temper.

I don't demand a lot at work. A place to work, and the tools with which to work. One of those tools includes the phone cord. It's hard to make/receive calls with the cord that connects the bloody phone and headset. I had phone, and had headset, but no cord.

Now, this was not the first time this had happened. It wasn't the second time. It wasn't even the third time. Hell, I've lost count as to the number of times this has happened. Or that the computer mouse was taken from the desk. Every time this has happened, there has been no note, no apology, no email.

I went on a search, told TIIC that my workspace had been violated, and the guilty party came forward with the connector, apologizing for having taken it. I wasn't very gracious about it. To me, takin' stuff off my work station is like entering my home and takin' shit. It's just not nice. At least leave a friggin' note.

Could the day possibly have gotten any worse? Hell yeah!

I took an extensive course in Spanish a few years ago, in order to ask very basic questions of customers. Nowadays, there are websites that will transcribe the words for you. I took time to put our scripts in Spanish to better help our customers.

Today, an ungrateful person told me I obviously needed to go back to school to learn how to speak, as I didn't know what I was talkin' about in tryin' to converse in his own language. Interestin' that he knew enough English to be rude and insulting.

So if all y'all saw an angry purple and black cloud hovering over Indianapolis today, y'all know it was me.

I think I'm entitled to have a hissy.