Well if you have to be addicted to something.....

Yes.  I am addicted.  To what?  How about wonton soup!  Yes, I am well aware that soup is “winter food” and it is the middle of summer (Mother Nature missed the memo about it being the middle of summer because she clearly thinks its freakin fall) anyway……  back to the soup.  I realize the word addiction may be a little strong however the “compulsive need for and use of a habit-forming substance characterized by tolerance and well defined physiological symptoms upon withdrawl” doesn’t seem that far off really.  You see there is a little restaurant in the building I work in that makes wonton soup to order.  So the wait may be a bit longer than the traditional slap some meat on bread, sandwich but the wontons are made right when you order them and oh they are so yummy.  So every time I am at work all I can think about is going downstairs and getting me some soup.  On the weekends I find myself planning what day I am going to treat myself to lunch.  Shame is the only thing that prevents me from actually ordering the stuff every day (but trust me if I could find a way to order it and have it delivered so I don’t have to walk the “soup again?” line, oh baby I would.)  Heck, last time I was there the little fella that runs the place took one look at me at said “the usual?”  So I guess if you have to be addicted to something why not a little wonton (baby!).

Salon Rules Ladies!

I am hereby putting forth a new rule – if you must, for any reason (I clearly do not care what the reason is) bring your CHILD to the salon whilst you are getting your hair done you shall be charged a twenty dollar, PER HOUR, fee for annoying the crap out of the other patrons.  I don’t care if you think I am being mean.  I had the misfortune of having to sit through two entire hours of listening to a woman’s 12 year old kid annoy the hell outta everyone, including the two hairdressers.  He was loud, obnoxious and interrupted every conversation in the salon with his personal opinion.  I don’t know about the rest of you but I enjoy spending three hours at the hairdressers to GET AWAY from children, get a new do and read my book in peace while I am “processing” aka “while the magic happens”.   What the heck this woman was thinking I have no idea.  It was all I could do to keep my mouth shut and not tell her to put her kid in the car.  Clearly, salon etiquette went out the window or I am now wondering if she doesn’t think her kid is annoying, just the rest of us do!  The way I see it, if there is a $20.00 an hour “annoyance service fee” the crazy people will possibly re-think and get a babysitter or the very least crack the windows in the car!

The Floor Less Travelled

Today I was asked to do a job at work that I have never done before (I might mention here that I have never done this particular task because it is not part of my job.  Not that I mind doing something different every once and awhile, depending on the request.)  Let me also say that I have a very specific job and this job really requires that I almost never have to physically speak or see actual humans. This is one of the best parts of my job mostly because I am not a huge fan of people.  So I was asked to pick up the mail for the department which in itself is not that big of a deal, EXCEPT I did not have a clue where to pick up said mail and the requestee disappeared right after logging the request!   I hurriedly emailed one of my co-workers who was off site and asked if she happened to know where this mystery mail was because clearly this is information I should know and cannot remember.  Feeling a bit like a fool I then had to go back into old emails to see if the only other person I know who works in this building had her address in her signature line so I could gleen a little information from that.  Low and behold, after searching through ten emails, I found one with her address on it.  Fifteenth floor.   Weird.  I suppose I get in the elevator every day and go to a lower floor and my brain has some kind of mental block about there being a huge number of floors above me.  What’s with that?  So I go to the 15^th floor, look around like an idiot and ask someone walking by if they know where the mail is for the floor I work on.  She shows me the mail basket and low and behold the thing is empty making this adventure somewhat of a bust.  This is one of those times where I am going to use the excuse “tired and hungry” because it makes me think that I might need to step outside my quiet shelter and realize there is a whole big world out there.  Of course as long as I am not required to talk to people I don’t want to, then forget it.  I’ll stay here.

Summer? Really?

I apologize for the long delay in posts.  Nothing worse than trying to follow the daily mishaps of others misfortunes and they drop off the face of the earth!  Everything I have written in the last couple of weeks was filled with anger and I did not want to share the misery.  It seems I spent too many precious days being mad at cancer and although I am still pissed off, I am trying to use that anger to see things in a different way.  I have been forced to learn a few lessons.  Damn it all anyway.

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I don’t want to be jumping the gun and all but it seems as though summer is finally here!  Although the old boy eradicated another man eating spider from in the bathroom yesterday, which according to old folk knowledge, means it’s going to rain.  At least we have him to blame if it does start to rain again.  So there’s that.

In order to prepare for the onslaught of pasty whiteness and patchwork tan lines I have been diligently applying a mild self tanner for the last week.  I am not sure if it is working but I made the mistake of wrapping a white towel around myself a few days ago shortly after the application and did not realize until I got home from work that my entire tan for the day was all over the towel!  It kinda freaked me out.  All I could think of was that the self tanning cream was most likely spending all of its quality time on the inside of my clothing NOT on my skin!  It’s a damn good thing I don’t wear white!

I have had this master plan floating around in my head to spend as much time as possible reading in my backyard oasis as soon as it got warm enough to take off the layers of sweaters and jackets.  That plan has now been foiled by the new neighbours who live behind us as they both seem to be going through some kind of menopause together because they have been running their very old air conditioner for about 18 to 20 hours a day.  It’s like listening to the hum of a monster truck running that has holes in the tailpipe!  All. Day. Long.  I try to ignore it but when you spend tons of money and time working on your yard to get it to the “oasis” stage, all you want is just a teeny, tiny bit of peace and quiet!   Now I spend my time in the yard waiting for the air conditioner to blow up since the thing appears to be at least a century old and is forced to work twice as hard because they have all the windows and the back door open all day as well!   Here we thought it was a good thing having a retired couple moving in behind us.  Let this be a lesson in “be careful what you wish for” because I am pretty sure both of them are stone cold deaf or they used to live right beside an airport and they miss the jet noises!  (This would be a good point to mention that they were both up at 6 freaking thirty this morning sawing and moving wood in their backyard.  What that was all about I have no idea.  Strange really.  It’s a damn good thing I had to get up this morning at 6:30 or I would be ordering rocket launchers on line right now!)  The thought of spending the entire summer inside with the windows and doors closed makes me want to scream.  I am secretly hoping they get a thousand dollar hydro bill since they clearly cannot hear all the noise they are making. 

Time to head out to the nursery to find “noise reduction” trees or start looking on line for remote acreage in the sticks somewhere!  Ear plugs?  Seriously!