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Rant, rant, rant
I'm having "one of those days" where it seems everything is working against me.
I got up later than usual (my fault for ignoring the alarm), exercised and answered multiple e-mails then showered. After doing some more work on tweaking Photoshop artwork, I ran to the grocery store to get the stuff for dinner that MrBug was going to grill. I should have listened to my Good Sense Voice and ordered pizza, tonight, but my Martha Stewart Voice insisted that Savagefuzzball and her two girlfriends should have something other than take out. When I got back it was bearing down on 3pm so I hurried up and threw together some potato salad to go with the grilled steak sandwiches. I also sliced up the green peppers and onions to grill for the sandwiches so I didn't have to do it last minute.
More e-mail. More Photoshop.
MrBug gets home and I'm feeling slightly stressed because I've been trying to make something work, in Photoshop, that I just. . . can't; I'm still learning how to work this program and it's beyond my limited knowledge.
So, MrBug tells me a guy from work is coming over to pick up a DVD he said he could borrow. MrBug is coming in and out of the kitchen, from outside, asking questions, wanting help/advice and needing stuff that normally wouldn't bother me but, because I'm already stressed, it's nudging me toward "I'm going to run, screaming, from the house like a madwoman". While I'm pre-measuring things for the Chocolate Volcano desserts, the guy shows up for the DVD. MrBug takes him on a tour of the downstairs (and showing him the addition-in-progress)and I'm yelling up to the girls "make sure you're dressed because there are men wandering around!" (they were still in their pajamas when I left for the grocery store).
[just a note to say I realize I'm changing tenses as I tell this but you'll just have to bear with me because I can't be bothered to fix it]
Anyway, MrBug gets the grilling done, I'm yelling for the girls to "come ON for goodness sake before it gets cold" and he's off wandering around letting HIS dinner get cold. Should I care? No. Do I? Of course, because I'm not stressing about *enough*, at this point . . .I have to scamper over the line into a full blown panic attack or I'm just not going to be happy. :oP
We eat. The girls disappear. MrBug disappears and I clean up by myself. From there, I go upstairs answer some more e-mail and go back to Photoshop to try to change some things that are buggery (in a bad way, not in a "Spedbuggery" way) and Photoshop says, "Hey, guess what? You look stressed. How about I just screw you, royally, and lock up?"
"No, no, no...pleasepleaseplease don't!" I beg. It ignores me and sniggers to itself. After a good fifteen minutes of trying to coax it back, I give up trying to get the program to work and decide to close it. Nope. Not only is it locked up but it won't shut down either. Oh, it pretends it'll shut down. I "CTRL+ALT+DELETE" and it politely says, "end task?" to which I respond, "Yes, you piece of excrement!". It, then, continues its charade by asking if I'd like to send an error report to Microsoft. I decline. It says, "okay, just let me shut down" and then just sits there, hourglassing, indefinitely. I try the whole process again. It pretends, again, to cooperate but, in truth, it's giving me the finger. In the end, I have to reboot the computer. I reboot and leave to --
go down and mix the pre-measured ingredients to make the Chocolate Volcano desserts (it's now 8:30pm). I fight the urge to go upstairs while the dessert is in the oven because I know me and I'll forget about them and they'll burn. I don't need that, at this point. So, I stay down there and I knit a bit on the scarf I'm making my niece in California but I'm antsy because I'm the type of person that, if there's a problem, I want to work at it until it's fixed and can concentrate on little else until it IS fixed. Dessert is served with a scoop of vanilla icecream but even that doesn't improve my mood.
I come back upstairs and the computer is waiting for me to finish logging back on. I do. It responds....s l o w l y. VERY slowly.
MrBug comes in (my computer is in our bedroom while his is in its own room) and starts play-whining. He sees I have a slushie (a slushie is a frozen concoction of fruit punch and vodka that I make in a gallon tub)and says, "You didn't ask ME if I wanted a slushie." (He'd dozed off in his computer chair and had to be awakened for dessert so I figured he wasn't 'up' for a drink) Normally, I'd have said "Oh, do you want me to get you one?" but, instead, I turned to him and said, "I'd love to be all caring and generous, right now, but I don't have the energy. If you want a slushie, you need to go get it yourself". Giving credit where credit is due, he laughed and said, "I respect your honesty".
I haven't reopened Photoshop. I just can't bear to go back in there, right now. So, here I am, to vent and rant.
My Friday was, for the most part, crappy.
I got up later than usual (my fault for ignoring the alarm), exercised and answered multiple e-mails then showered. After doing some more work on tweaking Photoshop artwork, I ran to the grocery store to get the stuff for dinner that MrBug was going to grill. I should have listened to my Good Sense Voice and ordered pizza, tonight, but my Martha Stewart Voice insisted that Savagefuzzball and her two girlfriends should have something other than take out. When I got back it was bearing down on 3pm so I hurried up and threw together some potato salad to go with the grilled steak sandwiches. I also sliced up the green peppers and onions to grill for the sandwiches so I didn't have to do it last minute.
More e-mail. More Photoshop.
MrBug gets home and I'm feeling slightly stressed because I've been trying to make something work, in Photoshop, that I just. . . can't; I'm still learning how to work this program and it's beyond my limited knowledge.
So, MrBug tells me a guy from work is coming over to pick up a DVD he said he could borrow. MrBug is coming in and out of the kitchen, from outside, asking questions, wanting help/advice and needing stuff that normally wouldn't bother me but, because I'm already stressed, it's nudging me toward "I'm going to run, screaming, from the house like a madwoman". While I'm pre-measuring things for the Chocolate Volcano desserts, the guy shows up for the DVD. MrBug takes him on a tour of the downstairs (and showing him the addition-in-progress)and I'm yelling up to the girls "make sure you're dressed because there are men wandering around!" (they were still in their pajamas when I left for the grocery store).
[just a note to say I realize I'm changing tenses as I tell this but you'll just have to bear with me because I can't be bothered to fix it]
Anyway, MrBug gets the grilling done, I'm yelling for the girls to "come ON for goodness sake before it gets cold" and he's off wandering around letting HIS dinner get cold. Should I care? No. Do I? Of course, because I'm not stressing about *enough*, at this point . . .I have to scamper over the line into a full blown panic attack or I'm just not going to be happy. :oP
We eat. The girls disappear. MrBug disappears and I clean up by myself. From there, I go upstairs answer some more e-mail and go back to Photoshop to try to change some things that are buggery (in a bad way, not in a "Spedbuggery" way) and Photoshop says, "Hey, guess what? You look stressed. How about I just screw you, royally, and lock up?"
"No, no, no...pleasepleaseplease don't!" I beg. It ignores me and sniggers to itself. After a good fifteen minutes of trying to coax it back, I give up trying to get the program to work and decide to close it. Nope. Not only is it locked up but it won't shut down either. Oh, it pretends it'll shut down. I "CTRL+ALT+DELETE" and it politely says, "end task?" to which I respond, "Yes, you piece of excrement!". It, then, continues its charade by asking if I'd like to send an error report to Microsoft. I decline. It says, "okay, just let me shut down" and then just sits there, hourglassing, indefinitely. I try the whole process again. It pretends, again, to cooperate but, in truth, it's giving me the finger. In the end, I have to reboot the computer. I reboot and leave to --
go down and mix the pre-measured ingredients to make the Chocolate Volcano desserts (it's now 8:30pm). I fight the urge to go upstairs while the dessert is in the oven because I know me and I'll forget about them and they'll burn. I don't need that, at this point. So, I stay down there and I knit a bit on the scarf I'm making my niece in California but I'm antsy because I'm the type of person that, if there's a problem, I want to work at it until it's fixed and can concentrate on little else until it IS fixed. Dessert is served with a scoop of vanilla icecream but even that doesn't improve my mood.
I come back upstairs and the computer is waiting for me to finish logging back on. I do. It responds....s l o w l y. VERY slowly.
MrBug comes in (my computer is in our bedroom while his is in its own room) and starts play-whining. He sees I have a slushie (a slushie is a frozen concoction of fruit punch and vodka that I make in a gallon tub)and says, "You didn't ask ME if I wanted a slushie." (He'd dozed off in his computer chair and had to be awakened for dessert so I figured he wasn't 'up' for a drink) Normally, I'd have said "Oh, do you want me to get you one?" but, instead, I turned to him and said, "I'd love to be all caring and generous, right now, but I don't have the energy. If you want a slushie, you need to go get it yourself". Giving credit where credit is due, he laughed and said, "I respect your honesty".
I haven't reopened Photoshop. I just can't bear to go back in there, right now. So, here I am, to vent and rant.
My Friday was, for the most part, crappy.
((((Spedbug))))
Re: ((((Spedbug))))
It's Saturday morning at 8:12 a.m. I didn't sleep well (I kept waking up with a feeling of "Something needs to be addressed"). Every snore and every movement from MrBug roused me and, once, my bladder pulled me up out of sleep. Even so, today looks a bit better.
Thanks, Kitsune; your fairy-sparklingness is a welcome sight this morning.
no subject
Sending lots of 'Wonderful, stress-free Saturday' vibes!
Thanks, kairon