Where to begin?
After starting off the day feeling somewhat like a human being, around 10:00 -- just before the fire drill -- someone came into the library absolutely coated in some kind of perfume. It didn't smell bad. It was just overpowering. By the time they rang the all-clear and I trooped back upstairs with the rest of the drones, my head was spinning and I was just too barfy. So here's the perfume rant:
I know it smells good. That's nice. So smell it. I don't need to. In fact, when I do, I get sick. Some people sneeze. I get light-headed and dizzy and barfy and then I don't breathe so well. I really don't think that anybody has the right, for their own vanity, to make other people sick. I don't want samples in my magazines, and I really don't want otherwise perfectly nice people to come into my workspace and by their very existence there, cause me to stop breathing.
I mean, am I wrong here?
In the past, when I've casually mentioned this to people, I've sometimes gotten the answer: Oh, it's not perfume. It's cologne.
What the fuck! I don't know the difference and I don't care. It smells, it's strong, it makes me sick. Case closed.
So at 11:00, I picked my barfy head up off my desk where it was lying cradled in my arms and said to the Colleague and to the SCM "I'm going home now." And I did.
Somewhat better now after an hour of sleep (I actually slept) and a whole lot of fresh air. I turned off the heat and opened a lot of windows. Now I just have that metallic taste in my mouth. It'll probably be gone by tomorrow. (Yes, I brush my teeth! It has no effect. The metallic taste is actually a smell that I still smell, but when I sense it with my taste buds, it tastes metallic. Or so I claim. And believe.)
And anyway, the SCM is driving us absolutely crazy. No details -- I don't even want to remember the details -- but the degree to which he thinks the entire universe revolves around just him is unbelievable. It's like he's a two-year-old. No idea why I just thought of this one, but he does not go to funerals, wakes, or hospitals, with very few exceptions. It's not a fear or anything, it's a preference. He doesn't like to go to funerals. (And everyone else does?) He did go to his father-in-law's funeral, because his wife made him go, and I think he went to the hospital with her when his son was born over 20 years ago. I have never known him to go to a wake, even when Colleague's parents died, which was pretty lousy of him, I thought. I mean, part of being a grown-up is that sometimes you have to do things you don't want to do, right? How did I forget to check the box where it said "Maturity Optional"?
That's two complaints. And I haven't even gotten started on the Financial Aid Office at K's school.
Crap. Better to go finish washing the dishes than go anywhere near that one.
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I'm watching The Golden Girls
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