I made multiple attempts to acquire this book through physical retail channels– I’m not sure why, but I really wanted to buy it in person– before noticing it was like 60% off or something like that on Amazon and giving up and ordering it, and it shows up with that … thing on the spine. I’m genuinely considering returning it and just reading it on my Kindle, because that’s going to bother me every single time I look at the book for the rest of time.
Maybe I’ll go to Half Price Books tomorrow and see if they have an earlier edition.
It’s been a weird damn day. I’m definitely in Okay School Can Start Now mode, and as of right now I basically have two more weeks of break. I’m going to try to not live at work during the week before school starts like I usually do, and I’m going to try to not spend much, if any, money on my classroom in the next couple of weeks either. I’ve spent most of the day obsessing about money and trying to figure out the best way to get rid of lots of my possessions. I’ll spare you the details; bog-standard Anxiety Brain at work, and for no good reason. There’s nothing bad going on; I’m genuinely in the best financial shape of my life right now (knocks on wood) but I’m going through another one of those occasional phases where I’m obsessing about The Next Car, and I accidentally figured out yesterday that I can technically afford The Next Car right now, which is not part of the plan, and I’m sticking to the Goddamned plan, which is to wait until the boy gets his license, give him the Kia, and then either lease or buy myself a new car.(*) That’s a little over a year away. I have a target in mind for my down payment; I’m halfway there, and I don’t think pulling together the other half in the time I have will be difficult– and even if it doesn’t happen, it’s not like there’s a hard deadline for something like give my son my car.
Further complicating things: he’s commented more than once that he’s not sure he wants his drivers license, which is a startlingly common affliction for kids of his generation. God could not have stopped me from taking my driving test on the first day I was legally able to. Also a potential complication: I think my dad’s car is probably on its last legs. It might turn out to be more sensible to give him my car, but that’s not something that’s going to happen on my timetable.
Forgive me; I’m thinking out loud, obviously, but hopefully typing this out will calm my brain down a little bit. I got a few things done around the house, took a shower in the new shower finally (it works!) and read about a third of the thousand-page book I started yesterday with the parts of my day that weren’t dedicated to kvetching. Tomorrow I plan on fixing the toilet and a ceiling light in the other bathroom, and hopefully I can get that done without electrocuting myself (unlikely, as I know how to turn the power off to the bathroom) or breaking the shutoff valve for the toilet … which is a bit more of a concern. I’m perfectly capable of swapping out the guts of a slow toilet, but our shutoff valves are, by and large, Not Good, and replacing those is beyond my skill. So if that fucker snaps off in my hand we’re going to have to cut off the water to the whole house and call an emergency plumber.
Cross your fingers for me, will you?
(*) Spare me, for now, any opinions on which is a better idea, although keep them in your back pocket for the inevitable moment when I have to actually make that decision, because we all know I’m going to ask for advice. It’s kind of a pointless conversation until I know what loan rates are looking like when I actually get the car.
Done with sports again, I think, because really all I have left is hoping for Argentina and England to lose, and they both keep winning matches in the exact same horrible way, so let’s just put soccer in the closet again until 2030.
Remember four and a half years ago, when weredid the master bathroom? Quite possibly not, as I doubt there are a ton of you who have been around that long. Well, it doesn’t matter, because we’re doing it again! Turns out that the new/old shower leaked. A lot! Which was the whole reason we redid it in the first place– because the first shower leaked, and we replaced it, and now the second shower has leaked, possibly worse than the first one did, and now we’re replacing that, and I’m down a bathroom again for, hopefully, just a few days. They’re telling us they’re going to be done by Monday, assuming everything shows up– we’re still waiting on the door and the flooring but that should be in tomorrow or Saturday, and it’ll be the last stuff to get done anyway, so it shouldn’t be a problem.
The flooring this time will extend into the laundry room, off there to the left, and we’re keeping the same vanity and cabinet and mirror and toilet and bidet we had before, and we are hoping not to have to repaint. We have gone with a built-in shower because I hate tile eternally and forever; I love the fact that the only tile in this house that has held up is the tile that I installed, in the hallway bathroom, and by “I love the fact” I need you to understand that I hate tile and I hate grout and I will hate them until twelve years after I die. At any rate, we’ll see how the new look for the shower works with the new floor tile (it’s not tile, it’s vinyl rectangles, but whatever) and then we’ll see if we need to do anything else with color to pull the room together. I’m worried that the room is going to look a little mismatched with the dark woods but no more dark tile.
At any rate, expect me to be screaming into the abyss for the next few days.
(Oh, also, summer school is finished as of today, so I’m on For Real For Real Summer Break now for the next month or so.)
Perfectly normal, I’m sure, to wake up at 5:30 in the morning on a Saturday, finally drag yourself out of bed at 6:30 after giving up on any chance of additional sleep, and then to take not one, not two, but three naps over the next twelve hours.
In response to this video, I posted the following comment:
You will note that that comment has 4601 Likes in 8 hours, which is a pretty good number! I don’t mind getting lots of likes on comments. However, right after taking all of the screenshots I needed for this post, I deleted the comment. Why? Because the dumbest fucking people on Earth found it,and I cannot believe the pure bullheaded illiteracy on display in the many responses to this comment. This is just a sampling, guys, and the number of people who seemed to think that I literally meant human beings boil is absolutely staggering. Have a gallery:
I can’t decide which is worse: the “we don’t really boil” people, the “ONLY AT SEA LEVEL” pedants (the variance in boiling temperature is about 7% from sea level to the top of Mount fucking Everest; shut up), or the people who don’t seem to understand what fevers are. My favorite is the person who claims to have had a 106 degree fever for two full days; 106 degrees is a five-alarm, get-your-ass-to-the-hospital-NOW fever. 106 degrees will kill you stone fucking dead. Then there are the people who thought that I meant that people would … literally freeze into a block … at 0 degrees? Are you kidding? Tell me you’re kidding.
I mean, beach_lily really thought “Literally not true” was something worth saying. You’re right! Of fucking course people don’t literally boil! What the fuck is wrong with you that you thought you needed to point that out?
I’ve said it before many times, and I’ll say it again: it should be painful to be this dumb. Your brain should shock you or something. You should pass out before you finish expressing thoughts this dumb. I am absolutely willing to live by this; I live in daily, constant fear of actually being as dumb as these people seem to be. This is “democracy is a terrible idea” level dumb. These people’s votes count!
Because bitching about teacher training never gets old, and because I have three full days of online training and have to maintain my sanity somehow, I live-blogged my six hour summer school training today. Some of you do not yet follow me on Bluesky! Enjoy:
I made a quick run after dinner, to the very same grocery store that I got a senior citizen discount at yesterday, because I needed even more shit for school that I should have just bought yesterday. I pulled into a parking spot and put the car in park, and at that precise moment the car next to me and the car facing them on the other side of the aisle both started pulling out of their spots at the same time.
My sense of proprioception went absolutely batshit, and I was completely convinced my car was moving. Have you ever slammed on the brakes on a car while it’s in park? I don’t recommend it, especially if the car already wasn’t moving, because it won’t help. I had a couple of seconds of full-on panic, trying to figure out why my car was moving when I wasn’t moving it, before it clicked what was going on.
I went inside and immediately walked past a former student, who did not acknowledge me– possibly because I had her in class fifteen or sixteen years ago and she didn’t recognize me, which is reasonable. I remember liking the kid well enough, and the last I heard about her she was doing fine, but man did she look like hammered shit today. Like, possibly unhoused and with the flu. Really, really rough.
I collected my various purchases, noting with some irritation that some of them were literally twice the cost that they would have been had I gone to Target, but fuck it, I was already there. I bought everything and went back out to my car, checked my mirrors and my back-up camera and started backing out of my spot, like a normal, responsible driver, and just before I got to the point where I’d take the car out of reverse the car behind me (so on the other side of the lane) starts pulling out of their spot, clearly not looking to see if the way was clear. I slammed on the horn and came within an inch or two of getting hit, but they stopped in time and pulled back into their parking spot so I could leave.
As I was driving away, I saw a large man in a Punisher shirt and bright red shorts standing on the side of the entrance to the parking lot. A moment later I realized that this man, at 6:30 PM on a Thursday night, in broad daylight and in public, was energetically masturbating.
I once watched from my fourth-floor apartment window in Chicago as a woman squatted in the entrance to a business across the street and took a piss on the sidewalk, but I’m almost certain I’ve never seen somebody just randomly jerking off on the side of the road at passing cars before.
