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dragonlady7My nose is sore.
Not for the usual reasons.
I sustained the most glancing of blows on Sunday at roller derby practice-- just as I was turning my head to check over my shoulder for girls coming up to kick my ass, during a scrimmage, an opponent rammed into me, shoulder-first, head down, and I got her helmet right crack in the bridge of my nose.
She didn't notice, helmets being harder than noses, and kept rolling. Meanwhile I thought that perhaps I might be bleeding, and so should desist from participating. However, as I attempted to get myself out of bounds to check myself for injuries, another opponent saw me as fair game and sent me flying.
Lying on the sidelines, I had the opportunity to ascertain that my nose was not, in fact, bleeding. So I got up and rejoined the pack.
But I would like to here make a formal protest: Nothing that hurts this much and this lastingly should be so entirely trivial as to not even leave a mark.
Bastarding bastards.
Not that I want to be disfigured or anything, I just am annoyed that I have no dramatic wounds to appear all stoic about.
I spent the weekend, apart from roller derby, recuperating from my awful end of the week, wherein I had flipped out and been useless etc. I was late to work Friday, and useless all day. I did stir my stumps to go out Friday night, though it was not an easy sell-- I wanted to stay in bed-- but was marginally sociable, which was good. I think I had two beers. Burning the candle, obviously, at both ends. And was home in bed before 1.
Saturday I slept in until after 9 am, which is like noon for me now that i'm old and early-rising and all. Chita was around and about, mewing, after 6, but settled happily to sleep on my face, purring, when I grabbed her to shut her up.
I spent the whole day being useless, with awful cramps and all. Yeah, half of the end of the week's uselessness was probably hormonal, but that doesn't really reduce it.
I did send that email to the person, but when I spoke to her on Sunday at practice it was obvious that she had not received the email. Which is great, because now that email is like a time bomb in some sphere of the aether.
Oh well-- I only sent her a short version.
I got nothing useful done this weekend, however. Besides getting bashed in the face. Which is excruciating.
I had thought a weekend of just not really doing a whole lot would sort me, so I didn't worry too much about my unproductivity.
But I don't know; this morning I'm back manning the phones at the reception desk, and I've already had one person push every single button I've got.
First they call and don't know what kind of machine they have, and I can't even figure out if it's one we make.
Then they've got a question, which is a reasonable one that I start to answer.
Then they talk over me while I'm trying to answer them, stating something that contradicts what I was trying to say.
So I am silent until they are done.
Then, when requested, I once again begin to speak.
They talk over me. Again, they think they know the answer, so they are saying it, even though what they're saying isn't actually true.
I break off mid-sentence and, again, wait for them to be finished speaking.
They stop, and ask me, somewhat confrontationally, why I'm not answering. I begin to speak again, but speak slowly and very clearly, repeating what I have been attempting to say all along.
"That's not what you said last time!" the man says, really angry. "I called before and you gave me this other answer!" [I have never spoken to this person before.]
"What?"
"You don't know what you're talking about! Let me talk to someone who knows what the hell they're talking abo--"
They're on hold now, while I transfer them to someone else. I'm not going to get cursed at when I haven't even been allowed to complete a sentence.
Christ, that pisses me off.
Maybe I'm not really very Zen.
When can I start working from home selling porn on the Internet? This could start any day now, really. I know what I should've been doing this weekend...
Not for the usual reasons.
I sustained the most glancing of blows on Sunday at roller derby practice-- just as I was turning my head to check over my shoulder for girls coming up to kick my ass, during a scrimmage, an opponent rammed into me, shoulder-first, head down, and I got her helmet right crack in the bridge of my nose.
She didn't notice, helmets being harder than noses, and kept rolling. Meanwhile I thought that perhaps I might be bleeding, and so should desist from participating. However, as I attempted to get myself out of bounds to check myself for injuries, another opponent saw me as fair game and sent me flying.
Lying on the sidelines, I had the opportunity to ascertain that my nose was not, in fact, bleeding. So I got up and rejoined the pack.
But I would like to here make a formal protest: Nothing that hurts this much and this lastingly should be so entirely trivial as to not even leave a mark.
Bastarding bastards.
Not that I want to be disfigured or anything, I just am annoyed that I have no dramatic wounds to appear all stoic about.
I spent the weekend, apart from roller derby, recuperating from my awful end of the week, wherein I had flipped out and been useless etc. I was late to work Friday, and useless all day. I did stir my stumps to go out Friday night, though it was not an easy sell-- I wanted to stay in bed-- but was marginally sociable, which was good. I think I had two beers. Burning the candle, obviously, at both ends. And was home in bed before 1.
Saturday I slept in until after 9 am, which is like noon for me now that i'm old and early-rising and all. Chita was around and about, mewing, after 6, but settled happily to sleep on my face, purring, when I grabbed her to shut her up.
I spent the whole day being useless, with awful cramps and all. Yeah, half of the end of the week's uselessness was probably hormonal, but that doesn't really reduce it.
I did send that email to the person, but when I spoke to her on Sunday at practice it was obvious that she had not received the email. Which is great, because now that email is like a time bomb in some sphere of the aether.
Oh well-- I only sent her a short version.
I got nothing useful done this weekend, however. Besides getting bashed in the face. Which is excruciating.
I had thought a weekend of just not really doing a whole lot would sort me, so I didn't worry too much about my unproductivity.
But I don't know; this morning I'm back manning the phones at the reception desk, and I've already had one person push every single button I've got.
First they call and don't know what kind of machine they have, and I can't even figure out if it's one we make.
Then they've got a question, which is a reasonable one that I start to answer.
Then they talk over me while I'm trying to answer them, stating something that contradicts what I was trying to say.
So I am silent until they are done.
Then, when requested, I once again begin to speak.
They talk over me. Again, they think they know the answer, so they are saying it, even though what they're saying isn't actually true.
I break off mid-sentence and, again, wait for them to be finished speaking.
They stop, and ask me, somewhat confrontationally, why I'm not answering. I begin to speak again, but speak slowly and very clearly, repeating what I have been attempting to say all along.
"That's not what you said last time!" the man says, really angry. "I called before and you gave me this other answer!" [I have never spoken to this person before.]
"What?"
"You don't know what you're talking about! Let me talk to someone who knows what the hell they're talking abo--"
They're on hold now, while I transfer them to someone else. I'm not going to get cursed at when I haven't even been allowed to complete a sentence.
Christ, that pisses me off.
Maybe I'm not really very Zen.
When can I start working from home selling porn on the Internet? This could start any day now, really. I know what I should've been doing this weekend...
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no subject
Date: 2007-12-10 07:19 pm (UTC)He stuck to this policy religiously. I saw him use it all the time. And he meant the thank you too -- he was awfully glad to have a reason to hang up. :)