A new friend, BTude, has sent me a link and asked me to share it. I’ve read the post and feel it deserves some attention. Please, folks, take a minute away from all MY whining and take a peek at this link. See if you can help.
I’m also going to add Kim’s site to my links so you can get there from here at any time and check on things. If we get this out to enough people, maybe we can make a difference.
Okay, whichever one of you is doing it, stop it. Stop it now. (It’s probably BIL and family, but I can’t prove it.) One of you is jinxing me big-time and I’ve had about all I can handle right now. No, it’s not the big things like hurricanes or ‘naders or floods or drought or famine. It’s the little things that add up to huge annoyances.
First there was the “I’m losing my stuff as well as my mind” incident. No, Manda, no matter what you say it was NOT Snobby. I grilled her and she denied it.
Then, my printer at work decided yesterday that it was tired and needed a rest. I’m assuming that’s what it decided because it stopped dead in it’s tracks between printing two documents. WTF? No error messages, no nothing. (Yes, smartass – I heard that – it is plugged in.) Now we’ve tried everything under the sun and they’re sending a part that the printer says it doesn’t need yet, but we’re thinking maybe it’s not really sure if it needs it or not and we’re gonna give it to it and see if that does the trick. I’m figuring about tomorrow we’ll have to call in a repair person, but what do I know? I know I have 1000 documents to print – and that’s just this week. I don’t need this.
Home. Last night. Getting ready to take care of some farm business. Faxing a document into the government office for one of those subsidies that makes all us farmers rich. (If you really believe that, please slam your forehead into the wall several times for me, ‘kay?) I have a not-so-new-not-so-old fax machine. That.Didn’t.Work. Yep. You heard me. Damnit! Everything I touch these days turns to shit! Thank goodness I could bring my document to work and fax it this morning, but this isn’t an acceptable situation. Now on top of being busier than a one-armed paper hanger (Oh, shut up, I’ve told you I’m NOT p.c.) I’ve got to go buy a new fax machine.
In case you haven’t understood, what I’m saying is “I’ve had enough fun for now, please quit messin’ with me.” I’d really appreciate it.