This, That and the Other
THIS was on my Facebook page a little while ago:
Sometimes we lose sight of life's simple pleasures. Remember it takes 42 muscles in your face to frown, but only 4 muscles to extend your arm and bitchslap that motherfucker upside the head.
Sage advice, to be sure. *nods*
THAT reminds me that working in an office of only five people - all women - is only asking for someone to get bitchslapped, even if you only do it mentally. It's like working in a hormonal train wreck. Of the five of us, one has already gone through menopause naturally. One needs to have a hysterectomy. Two have already had a hysterectomy (one of them had hers in February and it'll take up to six months to get her hormone replacement regulated). Then there's me; the only woman in the building on a daily basis who has hormones that work properly. If I hear one more coworker blame her poor attitude on malfunctioning hormones, I really might bitchslap someone.
Malfunctioning hormones are neither my fault nor my problem. I was talking to my mom about it the other day. She's been through menopause and took hormone replacement for about two months before she decided she just didn't like it. We both agree that far too many women use their hormones as an excuse to be a bitch.
This is not to say that I have no sympathy for women who are forced by a medical condition (such as hysterectomy), to take hormone replacement. I feel for them. I has to suck big fat donkey dicks. BUT, if a coworker walks into work and says, "I'm sorry if I'm a bitch today, but my hormone pills just don't seem to be working today," then they're able to dredge up a polite tone of voice and a smile for patients, but then turn around and bite my head off, I'm going to have to call BULL SHIT on that excuse. If they're able to control their hormones enough to be polite to one person, they can be polite to me as well.
End of Rant.
AND THE OTHER(S)...
The kittens have been spending more and more time outside the nest. They've taken to napping in random places in the middle of my bedroom floor. It makes navigating my room in the semi-dark rather dangerous. The carpet is brown and the kittens are all (except one) dark. I have to remind myself to turn on the lamp before I start moving around. More than once I've put my foot down on a napping kitten. Thankfully none of them have actually been stepped on just yet. Yes, they're sweet little furballs, but they're taking over my room and I DON'T LIKE IT. I want my room back. They're venturing further and further from the nest, though, and it probably won't be long before they're exploring the rest of the house and I might then be able to reclaim my bedroom.
Sometimes we lose sight of life's simple pleasures. Remember it takes 42 muscles in your face to frown, but only 4 muscles to extend your arm and bitchslap that motherfucker upside the head.
Sage advice, to be sure. *nods*
THAT reminds me that working in an office of only five people - all women - is only asking for someone to get bitchslapped, even if you only do it mentally. It's like working in a hormonal train wreck. Of the five of us, one has already gone through menopause naturally. One needs to have a hysterectomy. Two have already had a hysterectomy (one of them had hers in February and it'll take up to six months to get her hormone replacement regulated). Then there's me; the only woman in the building on a daily basis who has hormones that work properly. If I hear one more coworker blame her poor attitude on malfunctioning hormones, I really might bitchslap someone.
Malfunctioning hormones are neither my fault nor my problem. I was talking to my mom about it the other day. She's been through menopause and took hormone replacement for about two months before she decided she just didn't like it. We both agree that far too many women use their hormones as an excuse to be a bitch.
This is not to say that I have no sympathy for women who are forced by a medical condition (such as hysterectomy), to take hormone replacement. I feel for them. I has to suck big fat donkey dicks. BUT, if a coworker walks into work and says, "I'm sorry if I'm a bitch today, but my hormone pills just don't seem to be working today," then they're able to dredge up a polite tone of voice and a smile for patients, but then turn around and bite my head off, I'm going to have to call BULL SHIT on that excuse. If they're able to control their hormones enough to be polite to one person, they can be polite to me as well.
End of Rant.
AND THE OTHER(S)...
The kittens have been spending more and more time outside the nest. They've taken to napping in random places in the middle of my bedroom floor. It makes navigating my room in the semi-dark rather dangerous. The carpet is brown and the kittens are all (except one) dark. I have to remind myself to turn on the lamp before I start moving around. More than once I've put my foot down on a napping kitten. Thankfully none of them have actually been stepped on just yet. Yes, they're sweet little furballs, but they're taking over my room and I DON'T LIKE IT. I want my room back. They're venturing further and further from the nest, though, and it probably won't be long before they're exploring the rest of the house and I might then be able to reclaim my bedroom.