This is going to be a random blog, so hold on because it might be a bumpy ride...But there are a few things I feel like sharing...
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For starters, if you're a dentist, it should be like illegal to be sick. I called in "sick" from work yesterday because Thursday night I woke up at like 10pm (I went to bed at nearly 9pm) feeling like someone was attempting to rip my brain out through my right ear. This isn't really an exaggeration of what my head felt like. I had had a killer headache all day long that wouldn't go away and then I woke up with it hurting like this. After sitting up in bed and gathering my wits, I realized that it was a toothache. I got up, brushed my teeth again, took some ibuprofen, and got back into bed only to realize that none of this helped. I sat up all night with the pain. I dozed off a couple of times for like a second, only to be woken up by the pain. Each time I dozed off, my head would drift to one side or the other, which made it hurt worse, so no sleep for me. I guess that old saying that there is no rest for the wicked is true. lol At 4am when my alarm clock went off, I stumbled downstairs feeling drunk from the lack of sleep and called in. Since I didn't have enough sick time to cover my whole day, I am expecting a write up when I return to work on Monday, but that's neither here nor there. I called my dentist's office at a little after 8 or something to ask about being seen, but he was out sick. Say what!? That's so not cool! In fact, the soonest they can get me in is Thursday the 1st. Son of a bitch! In the meantime, they called in a script for antibiotics (in case it's an infection) and some painkillers (600mg Ibuprofen). So, I ended up with ibuprofen because I asked them not to prescribe Vicodin, as the last time I took it I ended up with hives from my neck to my toes. Though, as I sit here in pain once more, I find myself pondering which is worse-- the pain from the toothache or itching from hives? I still haven't broken down to take one of the Vicodins I still have sitting in my locked medicine box upstairs, but the thought has passed through my head. This is sort of its own form of hell...Horrible pain or itching like a mo-fo...Decisions, decisions...
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In other news, recently, like over the last month or so, I've repeatedly heard from people that they have a hard time picturing me with kids. Of course, they all follow up with, "I'm sure you are fine with them, but..." And then I get to hear about how they just don't picture it. *sigh* I'm not sure I've ever really said that to anyone. I know some people who have kids who I'm not sure are responsible enough to have them...And no, I'm not talking about my mom...JUST KIDDING, MOM! (Shhh, I was totally talking about her!) Anyway, I don't think that people immediately associate me with kids, but kids seem to like me...Mostly because they like to freak me out. I don't deal well with the nastiness that comes with kids like boogers and nasty diapers and burping and drool (Blech!) and slobbery kisses (And I'm not just talking about from Phoenix, but Chuck gives them too!) and all that nonsense that comes with kids. I had once pictured myself growing old alone with a house full of books. Not like hoarder-style, but just like all my spare rooms would be libraries or something. I don't like cats and dogs enough to be that lady, but the book lady, yes. Plus, books smell wonderful and animals do not. But I digress...I had pictured this though because it was easier than putting myself out there to be with anyone. And whereas most people think me to be evil because I'm sarcastic and just so happen to have an evil laugh (A girl cannot help what her laughter sounds like...Bwahahahahaha! *shifty eyes*), I'm not really evil. I do like to help others out, but only to a point because I've realized as I grow older that many people who realize you're helpful will exploit it. Fucking bastards. So, I'm not so sure why people are so surprised that I'm okay with helping take care of other people's kids. I was never cut out to be the mommy-type, but that doesn't mean I can't take care of kids. For clarification, mostly because I know my sister and her way of thinking, I'm not the daddy-type either. I'm just me and once the kids catch on to that, we're fine. I have found common ground with most of the kids we've had in one way or another...For Chuck, we watch videos together on Youtube and read books. (How does he know There's a Wocket in my Pocket is hilarious? He giggles every time we read it!) With Ariel and Rapunzel, they ask me an ungodly amount of questions and I answer them absurdly. And I'm working towards teaching them to like my music rather than Phoenix's music. Bwahahahahaha! *looks around* Where did that evil laughter come from?
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Basically, I may not look or act like a mommy, but I can be a caretaker to these kids. Phoenix is the mommy, which is why the girls always give her hugs and seek her when they're hurt or whatever, but Chuck comes to me and despite my sometimes unlovable attitude, he still gives me kisses and hugs for no apparent reason. Silly kid. *rolls eyes*
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My short hair cut is not something open for discussion. It is not a "K.D. Lang" hair style...Nor is it reminiscent of other people with short hair. It's my hair and I'll wear it this way because I like it. I keep thinking about growing it back out, but it's such a pain in the ass. I'm not sure why I'd give up being able to style my hair in like two minutes to go back to having to blow dry and style my hair. And even if the majority doesn't like what it looks like, I do...And so does Phoenix.
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I am not a soccer mom because Phoenix got a minivan. I may drive it at times, but only because I despise her driving. In fact, I am willing to go so far as to enroll the kids in ballet classes instead of soccer and other sports to avoid the cliche title. Bwahahahaha!!
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At my work, they've put a lot of emphasis on understanding the customer's emotional state when they call in. Since I started working on pretending like I give a flying rat's ass about these strangers, I have found that my talk time has skyrocketed. What the fuck, man? It's like once these people think I care, I am suddenly their new BFF. The other day this lady called in to dispute some charges from a recent trip she was on and she mentioned she had been so sick on the trip. Since she had only gotten back home the day before she called, I asked if she was feeling better. She then went into this long explanation about how she'd had diarrhea and was throwing up on half the trip. *blank stare* I had a new hire sitting with me and she looked as horrified as I felt. At the end of the call, the new hire joked with me that the lady felt very comfortable with me, which was apparent. Yay, my scores on my surveys are going up, but in the meantime, I can't get people off my line and I hear these horrible stories all day long! Sometimes I get funny stories too, but mostly, I get the horrific stories I don't want to hear. From time to time, I am also getting the people who vent to me about how they hate my company. I have actually turned a few of these people around, somehow, and by the end of our conversation they didn't think we were the devil anymore...Poor people. Don't they know that I'm a silver-tongued devil?? I need a new job though where I am not using my cleverness for this purpose, but rather for a more evil purpose--er, um, I mean...Look, a bright shiny object! *runs away laughing evilly*
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I guess that's it. My head is killing me and I cannot keep thinking about all of these things...I find myself lately thinking about so many things that people say about me and then I find myself pondering who I am. I am not going to define myself by other people's standards. I am just Heather. Although, some days, as I scroll through my iTunes, I wonder who the fuck Heather is anymore. I used to fucking hate Coldplay. Why do I have Coldplay on my iTunes? Honestly, I despised that song Clocks and yet there it sits in my playlist. And for some reason, I absolutely love their song Yellow and Viva La Vida. *rolls eyes* I also used to hate Kate Bush. My mom used to listen to Kate Bush all the time when I was a teenager and I wanted to jump out of our speeding car to avoid listening to another one of her songs...And then somewhere along the way, I realized I love her music because her songs tell stories. Don't get me wrong-- Kate Bush is fucking weird with her interpretive dance bullshit, but her music is awesome. In fact, something else I didn't used to do was watch TV and now I'm like, "OMG! I love Doctor Who! And Once Upon a Time!" *shakes head* It's amusing that people are trying to hold me to an image of who they thought I was when I'm clearly not that person anymore...Is this what happens when we grow up? *wanders off to lay on the couch*
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