"The hell? Snow?" This is mildly annoying.

Thanksgiving Day the husband and I ran around from destination to destination in sweatshirts and this morning snow, ground covering snow. Damn. Why didn't I have a winter jacket on when we set out on our Thankgsiving Day? And when I say destination to destination, I don't mean schlepping from house to house with three kids in tow, eating dinner after dinner, we've been there, done that. I mean:
Handing the crock pot full of mashed potato's to the husband, I announce, "We have to stop at the store on the way to your sisters for maxi-pads."
He made a sound that I am unable to spell and said, "Can't you just....."
"I can't just do anything. We have to stop on this day of Thanksgiving, the day we say thanks for all of life's many blessing and stop for maxi-pads."
We have a short stare-down, "I guess we could pick up some pop, I guess."
"Yes, that's a good idea."
He's come such a long way over the years, maxi-pad talk use to scare him, now he's just mildly annoyed.

We live in Northeast Ohio, so at anytime of the year snow doesn't surprise me, it's just usually cold when the snow falls. Maybe I'm having hot flashes.

Wash your hands moron

If the world is being dumbed down to mass retardation, seriously, do I have to participate? Do I have to be on the list of people that need to be called on a "sleep in" Saturday morning to be reminded I need a prescription filled? I can tell the bottle is almost empty, any moron can tell when a bottle is almost empty. Gah! Do I really need to be reminded I need to make an eye appointment? I know when I can't see.

And don't get me started on the "swine flu" procedures. It's been drilled into my head since birth to wash my hands. But for some reason the world is compelled to remind me with every turn I make to wash my hands. Signs, signs everywhere signs.

Society, we weren't born yesterday, most of us, can we be treated like we have functioning brain cells? Like adults, perhaps?

Okay, I'm glad I got that off my chest. Now I have to go find my car keys.

Turkeys in the parking lot

Being so close to Thanksgiving you'd think turkeys would keep a low profile, you know, hide in the woods, cowering in fear. So you can imagine my surprise to see five of them boldly, taking a stroll across the parking lot at work yesterday morning. At first I thought it was a bunch of geese, we have geese and goose poop everywhere by the office, they are a common occurrence. But I did a double take, "Huh? Turkeys in the parking lot? What kind of crazy messed up day is this going to be?"
I had to share the freakiness with my co-workers. If my day was going to start off with turkeys walking through the parking lot, so was theirs. We watched through the office windows as the turkeys made their way around the building, moving from office to office picking up a new member of the turkey watching procession as we went along. The turkeys picked the newest car in the parking lot to jump on. Seriously, one jumped up on the hood and another the roof, the car still had temporary tags on it. It was clear by then we were under attack. Something had to be done.
"Keep an eye on them, I'm getting my camera."
"We can't stop them you know, they're pissed about something, you better hurry."
"Make sure you get one of the vans in the picture with our logo, we can get this in the company newsletter."
"I'm slightly worried about my car."
"I'm sure it's fine."
The turkeys made their way towards the woods and we haven't seen them since, perhaps they were making some kind of Thanksgiving statement, we'll never be sure though. You never know what turkeys are thinking.

My fragile mental state of mind

Leaving the safety of my home, I ventured out into the swine flu riddled world we now live in, only leaving for food, gas and a mocha. Already at risk and in a weakened condition, because I'm pretty sure I have a sinus infection, I did this for my family to survive the weekend. I stocked up on Sponge Bob macaroni and cheese and Pepsi, oh and another bottle of my beloved Nyquil. Not that I've gone through a whole bottle myself, yet, the rest of the family likes to knock themselves out with that stuff when they're sick too.
We're sick but not swine flu sick. I'm sure I have a sinus infection but refuse to go to the doctors and sit in the germ infested waiting room for antibiotics. I suppose I'll have to go to the "black market" for those. Where is the "black market" any way? I need a few things.
Whether I ever leave my house again will be up to how much I let the media scare me and in my fragile mental state, because of the FaceBook addiction and my brain swimming in snot, it may be never.

FaceBook is reading my thoughts

Ever since I've fallen into the FaceBook black hole, my blog has suffered. But FaceBook told me the blog will be fine and I have no choice but to agree with it, it rules me now.
On my Farmville Farm I planted my entire field with corn with plans of creating a crop circle, thought it would be cool. I messed it up and started over, corn takes three days to be ready to harvest. In that three days Farmville added new items, crop circles. Doh!
You know what this means don't you? I have to start wearing a tin foil hat while on the computer.