Wandom Wabbit Musings
Know what? You can find tons of cool things to do in a new place, but if you lack transportation, all that cool stuff might as well be in another state. I’m excited; I’ve got Things To Do here, and once we get a second car, I can do them. And I don’t think it’ll be much longer until we can get that car, maybe a month. Maybe two. I can wait that long.
Until then I can just get my sorry ass back to work, both writing and learning how to start up a business. Yes, boys and girls, I want to start up my own business, a small publishing company. I know the basics, I just need to learn the specifics, and then buy the software and stuff that I’ll need.
For Pete’s sake, if you’re stoned out of your gourd, don’t make telephone calls. You won’t make any sense at all, the person to whom you are speaking will become very irritated, and avoid calls from you for a very long time. There’s nothing funny about protracted silences, changing subjects in the middle of a sentence, and pontification upon subjects about which you honestly know nothing. If you have to call someone while flying higher than the proverbial kite, make sure it’s someone equally as stoned.
Pet peeve: Stay out of the freaking handicapped stall unless you have a legitimate need to be in one. Having a toddler with you, and using the space so that it’s easier is not a legitimate need. Millions of mothers and fathers before you managed just fine in regular stalls with their tiny offspring. Needing to change your pantyhose is not a legitimate need. Become more flexible so that you can do that in a regular stall, or just shed some inhibitions and do it outside a stall.
Why does this bug me so much? I spent several months in a wheelchair. I now understand how important it is to have that lone, roomy stall available to someone who really, truly needs it. Your only excuse for using the handicapped stall is if there are only 2 stalls to begin with, and you have no idea how long the person in the regular stall will be there; if there are 7 stalls and one handicapped, stay out. Wait your turn. I don’t care how badly you have to go, unless you’re 3 years old, you can wait. What would you do if every stall were occupied? You’d wait. Pretend the big stall is occupied.
Face it, you can fit into any stall. The person in a wheelchair cannot. The person needing a walker for mobility cannot. They have only one choice, and oftentimes do not have the bladder and bowel control you do.
Whiners irritate the beejeezus out of me. I don’t mean a regular, everyday complaint. Those happen, and usually for a reason. I mean people who couch everything in chronic whining. Work sucks, school sucks, life sucks, my hair sucks, my siblings suck, my ex sucks, everything is someone else’s fault and never my own.
Get over it. Grow up. Stop whining.
I’ll stop now. I’m starting to whine…