So Wet



All of the Whining

The flowers are blooming so of course the highways are littered with orange cones. That's the reason it took me nearly two hours to get 10 miles yesterday. It's also the reason I can't seem to pick the girls up on time after work.

Alexis especially is a challenge because the road that leads to where she spends her after-school time is acting as a storage shed for orange cones. They litter every inch of that road, which ARGH. I swear it was all replaced just a few years ago.

Construction delays and traffic and all of those things led to me pulling into the after-school parking lot much later than I like. And then things took a turn for the worse. Instead of being greeted by the usual empty lot, there were cars everywhere.


What I mean is that they didn't seem to know how to do that thing where you place your car between a pair of lines, turn it off, and then get out of the car. Instead they were just sitting in the middle of the road and acting more confused than a dog that has just been handed a sweater.

It took a full six minutes to move ten feet thanks to the fact that everyone was learning to park for the first time in their life. ARGH.

Between thinking violent thoughts and wondering if it's okay to yell "MOOOOOOVE!" out the car window, I pondered why so many people were there. Lots of grandparent-types were walking slowly through the lot. There was also a flurry of over-dressed women, bouquets of flowers, and did I mention that everyone was acting really dumb? Because ... you guys. THE DUMB. IT BURNED.

It wasn't until I ended up waiting not patiently while a guy stopped his truck and let all of his passengers out s..l...o...w....l...y that I figured it out. There was something about the total and complete lack of concern for the other people around that made me realize it.

It had to be preschool graduation day.

It was.

I am not back to wondering why exactly there is a cap and gown ceremony for tiny people who have done nothing other than avoid running into traffic. Sure preschool graduations are cute and all of that, but that's it. They serve no value other than the cute factor.

This is absolutely my way of complaining about having to deal with humans in a few years when Mila has her preschool graduation. That sort of thing makes me want to complain endlessly, so it's good that I'm starting now.

For someone. It's good for someone. I'm not sure who, but someone.



It Wasn't Me

There's a part of me that has always wanted to write out some of the stories that lay out just how truly horrendous life was when I worked at that place I used to work at. I never have because I figure that if you want to read about someone whining about work, you'll open Facebook. Besides, even though the stories I could tell are astounding, there's been a lingering worry that maaaaaaaybe it was me.

Maybe I was the problem.

You can argue that it's dumb to think that, but that's part of what happens when you have a boss who distorts the truth in amazing ways. You begin to doubt yourself. A LOT.

And then a year goes by and you find yourself leaving your daughter's dance recital to drive to Baltimore for a work thing and you get in at 2:30 am because RECITAL and you're okay with it. And then you get up a few hours later and go work alongside some really fantastic people and you work and you work and you work and suddenly you look around and realize this is fun.

It doesn't matter that you didn't get any sleep and it doesn't matter that you're working your tail off because you're with people who are right there with you.

That. That is when you figure out it wasn't you.

Anyway, I went to Baltimore for a few days. I barely saw the outdoors because all of the work needed to be done, but it was fine because it was fun. When I returned home, both girls acted as if it had been years instead of days, so basically I can't pry either one of them off of me.

It's kind of the best.