Sunday Night Reflections

The thing about work that I think irks me the most, well second most because one thing in particular infuriates me so much sometimes I grind my teeth in my sleep over it, is the insincerity. I'm a very dry, sarcastic person. Obviously I'm aware of this. But if someone is exceeding at something that they previously have not been, I make it a point to be as sincere as possible when complimenting them on it. Or, if they're just doing a good job in general I like to be supportive to encourage more of this behavior. The other day at work, I was working in an area that I hadn't been in at all that day and two supervisors were standing near by chatting. They saw me begin work, chatted briefly a bit more, and than made very sardonic comments pertaining to what I was doing. "Storm over here, finally getting some work done." "Yeah Storm, jeez just standing around all day?"

I love sarcasm. It's one of my favorite forms of humour. But for god's sake: read your frickin' audience.

That is unprofessional, it makes me look like a lazy, incompetent employee, and it makes you look bad for putting someone like me in that position. And not just if the store is open and customers can hear you, but to other employees as well. Just be professional. There is a time and a place for being dry, and it is not when an employee has been working hard her entire shift but you haven't seen it so you think it's all joke and fun time. Had you been there with me my entire shift, while I was climbing ladders and sweating and lifting heavy objects and generally doing what I can to perform my job duties to the best of my abilities, than I would not mind your sarcastic and derisive comments at all. I would be humored by them and I would laugh and joke back with you.  Because I would know you were just joking. Do not just clock in and immediately start jokingly critisizing my work and my work ethic. That feels like a personal attack to me and it only makes me want to cause you physical harm.

In unrelated news, I bought a pair of prescription sunglasses today. I'm excited for their arrival. In a few short weeks, I'll be able to protect my eyes from the sun and I won't have to worry about my eyes getting tired from my cheap contacts because I can't afford the super wet and moist ones. More to come when they get here.

Did I mention that we recently sold my piano to a friend of ours? Well we did. I was really happy about it too, thinking we had given it to a good home and if at some point in the future I wanted that particular one back we could just call up our friend. Turns out, no. That future is not to be. Our friend had in his truck and he wanted to use a forklift to get it back out, and he gets the lift positioned under the piano, then realizes he's going to need to move his truck to get the piano out without incident. And I tuned (pun) out a little bit but somehow the piano straight up fell out of his truck.

And broke into a bunch of tiny pieces. Ivory keys and gold plating and all.

I am very sad/angry about this.

Also, (and this is only a footnote because I'll get crazy emotional if I write about this) Ray Bradbury passed away June 5th in his sleep. He was 91. And I'm devastated over it, and every time I think about it I'll get that tight feeling in my chest like when you wrap a string around the tip of your finger and it starts to go numb because you're cutting off the circulation and my eyes will prickle, just a tiny bit. Nothing obvious. But it will happen.

Updated Glasses Prescription!

Had my pupils dilated for the first time ever this morning. It was ... different. That seems like an appropriate word for it. Apparently- wait, first: I had an eye exam this morning because of the breaking-my-glasses thing that occurred like two weeks ago. I finally made an appointment. Okay, back: apparently the doctor saw a super teeny tiny freckle at the back of my eye. Then he asked if I've ever had my pupils dilated before. I was like, certainly not! Wait, why is something wrong?

It's no big deal, the freckle I mean (literally the smallest one he's ever seen (that's what she said)), but my eyes are still sore and it's been like, since 9:45-ish this morning. So... those many hours. I wore shades inside the drugstore and library, and then my house. My actual house. Where the dog sees me and I watch TV and sometimes do the dishes. Of all the humiliations.

Anyway, the pupils are still enormous but not the level of cartoon-drug-trip they were earlier. The doctor told me I wouldn't be able to read for about two hours afterwards, then asked if that would be a problem. I said no, but internally I was trying not to punch him the face. Two hours! Eff you pupils and tiny freckle! Eff, you!

My brother's wife was texting me before the exam so after, when she sent another text, I responded again because my vision hadn't gotten blurry and sort of painful. This continued for like 15 minutes. Then she sent me one that said: Sorry I am texting you Scotty just told me you had your eyes diluted!

I thought about it for a moment, and didn't correct her auto-correct. (I assume it was auto correct. She's like, anti-social smart so she obviously knows the difference between the two words.) Because my vision had been diluted. So she was technically correct.

Then Jeremy told me pistachios were on sale on deals.woot.com, $5 for a pound. And I was like, you buy the hell out of those right this minute. And I think he did. I stopped reading texts for a while after that. Ya know. Cause of the eye thing. The diluted eyes. The dilated eyes. That stuff.

So I basically spent my morning and early afternoon wearing sunglasses in my house, cause I'm a bad motha, and not reading, cause I was rendered intermediate blind.

Intermediate blind is not a thing. I totes made that up.

Also, my eyes are pretty much the same except the 'script is written differently because the nearsightedness changed in one eye, but so did the Astigmatism. So it balanced out, sort of.

Glasses Are Stupid

I broke my glasses yesterday, while they were on my face. By running into a door frame. It was the most idiotic thing I remember doing ever. I had clothes hanging up to dry on hangers, the hangers were on the top of the door frame to our closet, and they took up the entire entrance.

To get into my closet, I duck under the clothes. I did this yesterday, except I was getting a shoe box from the shelf, and I guess I thought I was being cool cause when I ducked in I went in one swift motion, reached for the box, retrieved it, and ducked back out without moving my feet. I did this for two other boxes prior to the fatal box and I thought it was bad ass (because I'm a loser and also have low standards). So naturally, just when I think I've got a groove going and I'm feeling like Daisy handing the coat check girl everyone's coats, crack! I hit my glasses right on the edge of the frame. They smashed into my face, which felt awesome, and then clattered to the floor. They actually clattered, and that needs to be mentioned twice because our apartment is carpeted. The impact was so severe that my glasses clattered onto a soft surface.

I hate things about my life.

The good news is I can still wear them. The bad news is that the way I had to adjust them makes the right side of my head hurt, like it's being pinched. Which it probably is. Also, I keep adjusting them like they're crooked. They actually aren't. So good job on my part on the fixing thing.

Oh, also glasses are super expensive even with insurance. I was going to Wal-Mart before and it was pricey, but I really hoped insurance would make a difference. Not so much. So until I can find an affordable doctor, I'm alternating between my busted glasses (which pinch my head and make it feel explodey) and my contacts (which I'm positive will one day make my eyes explode).

Yay.

The Daisy bit should be around like 2:24 I think.