I must be feeling a little snarky. Actually, I know that I am feeling snarky. Too much social media lately, mainly because I am brain exhausted and seeking to veg out and social media is a mindless filler. Well, most of the time, sometimes there is incredible information on Facebook or whatever and that is what keeps me checking in.
The snarky bit relates to those stupid memes where some dead celebrity os credited with saying someone deep and meaningful which is just not true. Also, the memes where it is declared that pain makes us a better person or appreciate the good times. Bollocks. Pain is neither character building or life enhancing. It just hurts and hopefully we survive it and get on with the rest of our life. Pain is not destiny.
Thursday afternoon, while the hairdresser was cutting my hair, she disappeared for a few minutes. She had cut her finger trimming the previous client’s hair and the band aid was inadequate for the stream os blood. The fresh band aid was soon stained with blood, but she kept on snipping. Lovely. I felt sorry for her, but, well you know, it was my hair!
My doctor is still fine tuning my blood pressure medication. Actually, I think he has lost the plot, but time will prove that to him. I have to monitor my blood pressure twice a day, at home. The sheet of paper I was using filled, so one night I grabbed the first thing I found on my bedside table – a tissue box. Do you think I need to transcribe it before my next visit? I just used the last tissue, so they could file the empty box.
Oh, the other thing that I am testy about, is the number of people pushing iPad apps for children, small children. Literacy and numeracy do not grow from an app. Children need good old fashioned play and adults reading to them, and that gives them the best start in the world. Conversation with their parents, experiences in the real world; not an app pushing a duck around a screen. Technology is why our kids have lost literacy skills. Don’t fall for it, people. Rise up and reclaim your child’s creativity!
Flying to Perth on Saturday for a play date with Peppercorn. My sister asked last Sunday if I had packed my suitcase! I beg your pardon? It is a six day visit to my daughter, who owns a washing machine, in a city. How much packing do I need? It is not an African safari with Dr. Livingstone. No, I am not a trial packer.
Son has completed his second master’s degree and this week is trialling with an IT company in the city. It appears that in I.T you don’t interview for jobs, so much as work with them for a couple of days. I don’t know which is more pressure – a interview or a trial. SIL though had to have a series of interviews and a psych test, which had to be repeated because the software malfunctioned for his recent new position. That is cruel. Anyway, send the white light people that Son gets a full time position (and it doesn’t get outsourced to India!). Mr FD and I would really like to be empty nesters; though I think Son can work form home a couple of days a week with this position!. The other days are smack bang in the central business district, so maybe he will need country down time!
The last thing on my snark list for today is that I need to get my drivers permit renewed. Last time I could do a tick and flick online, reuse the existing photo. Okay, it showed dark hair and I am now grey but it is me, damn it. This time, because I have one sighted eye, I have to go to an optometrist and a doctor for eye tests. I have had one eye since 1976 and I have never had to do this much before. Why now? Money grab I guess, and as the optometrist will bill my medical insurance and the doctor the government, one can see how health costs are blowing out. Of course I could “pretend” no eye issues, but then if I had an accident I hate to think of the legal mess I would be in. So, two days of my precious holidays taken up with jumping through hoops for the nanny state.
Well, unloading on you has been most therapeutic; thank you. Just one question, are you feeling snark now? Snarkiness loves company, even introverted snarks.