Peevish Friday

First, thanks and love love love to all you sweeties who commented on my pics! That warmed the cockles of my (comment-whore) heart. (And does anyone else not like the word “cockles”? Just me? Okay.)

Second, try not to be jealous but I already have my next TT idea. Well, actually, the one AFTER the next since I am participating in Denise’s challenge.

Said challenge is this:

“I would like to challenge all Thirteeners to come up with 13 things they like about themselves on the next Thursday 13 … September 7. I feel like we, as women, spend so much time scrutinizing ourselves that we sometimes forget the good stuff.”

And since I’m the Queen of “Week of Magnificence”, I know *I* won’t have any problem with this. I shall hold my cool idea for the next TT until the week after that.

Now, to the peevishness of this post. Here are a few things that are sticking in my craw (another word I really don’t like because it sounds like “crawl space” and ever since reading about John Wayne Gacy, I can’t handle that word. (I’m actually serious about that. Sad, innit?))

1. If you are donating money to a cause, don’t make it all about you and how much you CAN’T donate.

Like this, for example: I will be contributing $5.00. I know it isn’t much, but I can’t afford more. I am sorry; I wish it could be more. (This is an actual quote someone wrote on a site I frequent.)

I understand that some may feel bad because they aren’t able to contribute the same as others but just put your contribution out there and let it be. My mom does this all the time and it irks me to death. If that’s what you choose to contribute, be proud of it! Don’t be ashamed you can’t do more. Say “this is what I can do and I hope it helps” and leave it at that. You negate your great offering by all the yuck put out there after it.

2. I found this posted on a forum and couldn’t agree more or say it better so I’m gonna toss it out here:

But I absolutely cannot deal with people who cannot get their act together in the checkout aisle. They stare stoically as their groceries are scanned and bagged, but look quite confused when they are told how much their bill is. “What is this strange concept — money?” their expression suggests. They finally get it through their head that no, the cashier didn’t simply want to admire their selections. They will have to pay to escort these goods from the store.

Suddenly (well as suddenly as these sloths can be said to move), they rummage through purses or wallets. Of course, they never proffer actual cash or a quick credit or debit card swipe. No, they must write a check. Or fuss interminably with the credit card/debit card machine.

I think I especially love that “What is this strange concept — money?” part because heaven knows I see this time and time and time again. People! Pay attention at the cash register. If I am going to pay with a check, I have it all written out and signed just waiting for the total. You should do the same.

3. I don’t want to go back to work in the financial services field. I really don’t. But, alas, I believe that is in the cards as the angels have pushed me down this avenue and it’s one that will be very helpful to us not only at this time, but in giving us a cu$hion going forward so I can vault off full-time into my healing venture. I asked my guides to give me a sign that I should go foward and while I was googling the dude who runs the company, I happened upon a page that showed donors to political parties. Now, having been in the investment industry for 23 years, I fully expected to see that he had made a contribution to “dear leader” because most in that field are republican. ‘Lo and behold, what do I see? A nice $2,000 to John Kerry’s campaign! YEY! He’s sane! Whew. Not sure if this was a sign but it’s a good harbinger, nonetheless. So, look for news on my possibly new employment and how it all came about in the next installment of “How the snark turns”. Still, peeves me that I can’t stay home and get paid for it. Who’s with me on that?

That wasn’t too bad, was it? I might have more soon.

Wait, one more. Duty is sitting next to me talking on the phone and his voice is so deep and loud, it pierces my ear. OWWWW. I cannot take noise. Good thing I don’t have a child, right?