finally!!

they got the water line put in today! they did manage to get the digger out of the trench they had dug, and also managed to run over a tree. we have piles of dirt in the yard, but the line is done. so what if our yard looks like a war zone.

at any rate, we are going to the u.k. tomorrow and i can't wait! wooot!

so the other day i was at the store, getting checked out by a disgruntled clerk who thought she had the worst job in the world and that her co-workers were all dunderheads.

in honor of her (and people who have those really crappy days at work) i have a little story about my day at work today. it was fun. really.

i was having a great day, until a person showed up who wasn't supposed to be there. i get the job of telling him he needs to leave. the man, who believes he is anointed by God and thinks he is a prophet/healer/spiritual guide, tells me that i had "better not step up against the Lord's anointed", and tells me i can't keep him from seeing those he is guiding spiritually.

i smile and nod and tell him that if he has any concerns or questions, he can share those with the facility manager, and he says that he wants to leave his "testimony" so that we can "understand" him.

whereupon he goes to his car, brings back this 8 page manifesto, telling of how God anointed him... and how his journey led him into the hallowed halls of Mendota mental facility itself.

in fact, he shares how God told him his new name was John, and that he was the modern day john the baptist. he tells how he met a man at Mendota who claimed to be Jesus Christ. he asked the man if he recognized him as John, and the guy said he didn't know he was john. so prophet dude tells the man, "you can't be Jesus Christ, because if you were, you would have recognized me as being John."

now that's rational thinking... you're delusion doesn't jive with mine, therefore your delusion is wrong.

how about thinking, "you can't be Jesus Christ because he flipping lived two-thousand years ago, dude!!!!"

so yeah. in fact, that's about the only thing even remotely funny about this dude. he has a much darker side, far worse than the fact that he's off his rocker. he's got a record, and is a registered sex-offender. apparently, while he was "spiritually guiding" a vulnerable couple who somehow trusted him enough to let him stay in their home, he molested their daughter behind their backs.

it makes me so angry that our justice system allows people like this to walk freely in our communities. why let people like that out of jail/mental hospitals? they obviously haven't recovered! at least he won't be able to show up where i work again, but where else is he going to go to look for victims? or worse, what will it take to get him locked up again? who else will be a victim first, before it happens.

the scary thing is, he's not an exception. if you checked the sex-offender registry for your area, you'ld be shocked to find how many live in your town... and neighborhood. compound that with the fact that many of them have mental illnesses, that they don't take medication for, they're really dangerous.

so do me a favor, and find out who the sex offenders are in your community so you and your loved ones can be safer.

if patience is a virtue...

... i should be the world's most virtuous woman.

right.

so, like 2 1/2 weeks ago, we contracted this company to dig a water line for us so we could have water for the animals in the winter. simple enough, right? in fact, we told them we needed it done by the 21st of october, because we were going on vacation. no problem, they told us.

well, the fact that he told me to call the digger's hotline should have been my first clue that he wasn't going to be very reliable or responsible. the diggers hotline was called, and they said they'd be there the next week. well, the next week came and went, and i called asking where they were. i was told it would definitely be the next week; for sure. the next week... same thing. in fact, the ten days went up for the digger's hotline, because they didn't make it out on the day they said they would. so they called and said it would be the next week. but i had to re-open the ticket, so it was another three days. so they said they'd come on thursday. thursday came and by 11 am, when no one was there yet, i called. the lazy and bored receptionist told me (in a tone that told me she could have cared less) that she'd call the guy and he'd check his schedule. he finally called me at 1pm. he informs me that they aren't going to get there today, because he just finished digging someone else's well (as if i'm supposed to be pleased with this information). then he shocks me by asking if i wouldn't mind waiting until monday to have the water line dug (we're leaving for vacation on wednesday morning), and then goes on to lay a guilt trip on me by saying that someone else is without water. i told him that i was sorry, but i couldn't wait until monday (hello, look at your track record buddy), and that i really needed it done friday.

guess who doesn't show up friday? he doesn't even call, even after i leave 2 messages. i called again to day, and he still didn't call back. now, of course, its too late to even hire someone else. i really hate businesses that take advantage of the fact that they are the only one around who does something, so they don't care about how they treat their customers.

obviously, he is one of those passive-aggressive people who tell people what they want to hear, even if they have no intention of doing it. he was planning all along on doing that guys water line on friday, but tried to ask me in such a way that of course i would be obliged to say that he should do the other guy's line first. he obviously wasn't counting on me saying i needed it done on friday. not that i was being selfish, but i couldn't afford to have him call on monday saying he couldn't do it, and then do the same on tuesday!

i guess there's nothing i can do about it, really. its not like if i think about it hard enough he'll show up. but it gets frustrating. it would be nice to deal with someone who actually does what they say they'll do.

maybe i'll keep promising to pay him but never quite get around to it. guess we'll see what happens monday.

so... i guess at this point we just have to wait until monday to see if he decides to show up.

it gets more interesting...

so i haven't been sleeping well for awhile. i can't blame it on clay anymore because he's been sleeping thru the night for ages. so... the doctor ordered a sleep study. they suggested that you bring your pillow, b/c it would help you sleep better. since the sleep study is obviously at night, you have to go in through the emergency room and check in there. so here i am, waltzing in to the e.r. carrying my pillow like some daft lost person, and feeling somewhat foolish.

another guy is sitting in the waiting room with his pillow, and i think he must be there for the sleep study too. no one else has pillows.

we go up to the floor where the sleep study center is, and thankfully i'm too tired to notice that its on the same floor as the psych ward. oops... the politically correct term would be "behavioral health". at any rate, i got to where i was supposed to be, and was hooked up to a bunch of wires and sensors to record how i slept. i felt like r2-d2's long lost sister. or maybe a victim of a weird science experiement that happens in the secret labs of crazed scientists. at any rate, they superglued electrodes to my head, and i had sensors on my eyes, nose, cheeks, mouth, and something taped in front of my nose to monitor breathing. and then of course, you're supposed to just ignore the fact that you are hooked up to a computer and try to sleep.

after resisting the temptation to rip the wires off, i actually did sleep, only to have some really weird dreams. i really hope i didn't talk in my sleep that night, since everything was recorded. i suppose, if they did think i was crazy, i was on the right floor.

so... i finally fell asleep, and got comfortable... at about 5am. the nurse woke me at 6am, which is not an hour God intended for people to get up. anyway, the nurse really had to work to get the electrodes off my head, and i had to take a shower to get all the glue (and acetone used to remove the glue) out. i smelled like a nail polish remover factory. so i go to the shower room, which was most likely a converted broom closet. there is like... no room in there. barely enough to turn around in, but i manage. i realize there's no lock on the door and hope no one walks in on me. i really want to get that acetone out of my hair. at this point i still don't realize its the "behavioral health" floor. if i had, i might have gone without the shower.

on my way into the shower, i had noticed one of the nurses asking a patient if he was awake. i remember thinking she was brave for waking him up that early. she was really brave, considering the floor. i don't think i'd want the job of waking up a newly hospitalized psychiatric patient. i've been attacked by psychiatric patients for much lesser things, when i worked at the psychiatric hospital. like just being there. so yeah. i didn't hear any screaming, so i guess he was in a good mood.

at any rate, i'll find out the results on monday. hopefully, the doctor will tell me why i'm not sleeping and give me something to fix it. nick says i snore too loud and wake myself up. i told him he snores too loud and wakes me up.

you know you work too much when...

you start having dreams about the people you work with...

so i've been having this insomnia for the past couple of weeks. and the other night, after finally falling to sleep at about 5 am, i had the weirdest dream.

i got hit by a car, while crossing the street, but the cops arrested me because it was my car that had hit me. apparently i hadn't put the parking break on and it had rolled. how it had rolled and where it had come from wasn't an issue. dreams are like that. so anyway, there i am in jail. the police are wearing hospital gowns under their police jackets. they tell me they are arresting me because they are mad at nick for something he did.

then they take me to jail, and it is not a normal jail; it is this house. the house just happens to belong to an old dear who lives at the nursing home where i work, and she is there in the dream. she is wearing a pink quilted satin bath robe and fuzzy pink slippers and walking around in a walker, giving the cops orders. and they were listening. i think they were afraid of her. she is kinda bossy in real life.

i'm not quite sure why she was in the dream, but in the end, nick came and yelled at me for going to jail and the cops felt sorry for me and let me out.

i think i need to get more sleep.

murphy's law...

yeah so... you know how it goes... if anything can go wrong... it will.

so we decide to have a water line put in and i call the digger's hotline to find out where the utility lines are. they come out and mark it and there is a big, fat, underground phone line cutting right across the path where the water line was supposed to go. no doubt the electric line runs along the same path. i don't know, the electric company hasn't come out yet.

yes, its better to know than to get electrocuted. the irony lies in the fact that the utility line lies across the most obvious path for the water line.

such is my luck.

the world is full of stupid people...

... and i am their leader.

yes, me. today, we were in st. paul for something. since wal-mart was just across the street from where we were parked, we decided to go there for a few things. to make a long story short, we thought we'd take the cart to our car (which was in a parking lot across the street).

this worked fine... until we got halfway across the road, whereupon the wheels to the cart locked. i don't even want to imagine what we look like. probably like some deranged transients trying to run off with a shopping cart.

picture me, if you will... i have the hairstyle from hell because it is hot and humid out and it has decided to get all big and puffy and i look ridiculous. i'm pushing the cart, and the wheels lock, so we abrubtly stop; and nick, who is at the end of the cart and pulling/guiding it with one hand, is rudely pulled back, as the cart stops moving. because he's pulled back, he does this wild mis-step, like a drunken pinnochio.

he turns around and tells me to get out of the way, because he thinks i just can't push it. so he pushes it and can't move it either. i'm trying to tell him the wheels are locked. meanwhile, there's about ten cars waiting for us to move, and so we do the only thing we can do. we pick up the cart and carry it across the street. meanwhile, we are bickering with each other, so it probably looks like two crazy people fighting over a cart. clay is completely oblivious and is watching the traffic with great interest.

when we get it across the street, we leave it at the edge of the curb and carry our crap the rest of the way to the car. i was going to take it back to the wal-mart parking lot, but i was not going to carry the stupid thing back, so i figured it would be safe there. its not like anyone else could take it, since the stupid wheels wouldn't move. and no, it wasn't just the brake, because i tried moving the lever up, and it wouldn't budge.

all i can think of is that it was some kind of anti-theft device, designed to keep the cart from being stolen. nick thinks i'm looney, and says the cart was just broken.

i like how it just "broke" in the middle of a busy street. you know those moments where you just want to shrink into a huge, black hole? i could have used a huge black hole, right about then.

so i wonder what people thought as they sat in their cars. they probably all locked their car doors and prayed the crazy people wouldn't notice them.

the only good thing is, is that i'll never have to see these people again. and from now on, i'm thinking about doing all my shopping online.

why moms of small children stay at home...

so today it was gorgeous out, and i thought i would take clay for a walk and visit the neighbors. so we set off down the road and clay talked about the cows and the tractors and pointed out the birds. he was quite cheerful, and so was i. so, thrilled that my child was so well-behaved, i stopped at the neighbors house for a little visit. clay immediately went towards the most delicate object in the room -- some ceramic sparrows on the woman's end table.

"ducky!" he said, happily.

"no touch!" i tell him. "that's not a ducky. its a sparrow."

"pawwow?" he says.

i redirect him. he sees a toy on the floor. its the dog's toy, and i try to get him to play with something else, but he wants the orange squeaky dragon with purple claws.

he's happy for awhile, so i attempt to have a conversation. clay takes off. i run after him. this process repeats itself several times and i finally sit in the doorway and give up on drinking my coffee.

he then decides that he wants another dog toy; a ball, that is lying under the end table. he can't reach it, so i get it for him. he immediately throws it under the table again and says, "ball?"

he gets tired of this game and discovers a dish full of jelly beans. he tries taking one, and i tell him no. the neighbor says, "oh, he can have some if that's all right with you."

so i decide to let him take one. he likes the one and goes back and takes five. i tell him no, but he shoves them in his mouth. i try to grab him and he throws a tantrum. and starts choking, because you can't throw your head back and stomp your feet with your mouth full of jelly beans and not choke.

he proceeds to spit all the partially chewed jellybeans out... onto her nice white carpet. i put my hand out, and get a handfull of a sticky, spit covered, goopy mess. nice.

immiately after spitting out the jelly beans, he runs back for more. i stop him and he throws another tantrum.

i decide its time to leave. this actually makes him happy because he likes going outside. he throws another tantrum though, because he wants to go play in the yard, not get strapped in the stroller.

so here i am, pushing a screeeaaaaming baby in a stroller down the neighbor's driveway, and wishing i could just get home.

clay continues to scream, and he sounds like he's being tortured. we get home, and he throws another tantrum because we have gone inside. i decide its time for a nap. i then wish i could take a nap, but settle for the peace and quiet that results from clay getting some much needed sleep.

and i realized that kids will be kids. they all have their "moments"; mine just apparently saves them for when we are in public. so yeah... i still wouldn't trade him for the world, and despite the crazy days, i can't imagine life without him.

i don't know if i can imagine him behaving in public, either. lol.

and guess what? we get to go out tomorrow.