Tonight as I was putting my oldest to bed, we said a little prayer for my friend, Mona, and her donor as they have a kidney transplant tomorrow. After I gave a 5-year-old's description of what is entailed in a kidney transplant - which says more about my medical knowledge than the fact that I was talking to a 5-year-old - we talked about who else he wanted to pray for.
He included his usual list of friends and Transformers before moving onto his grandparents who are coming back from Florida this week. Then the conversation went a little something like this...
We have to pray for my other grandma, too.
We just did.
No, the one who's going to die soon.
What????
The one who just had a birthday. She's even older so she's going to die soon.
Technically, her birthday is tomorrow (May 1), but we celebrated it yesterday. I thought about explaining how we are all one day closer to death, but that seemed too morbid so I just left it that because it's her birthday she's going to die soon. For some reason it seemed less morbid at the time.
Happy Birthday, Mom!
Monday, April 30, 2012
Two Minutes Too Late
I tried to make it to my bank tonight, but was two minutes past closing time. As I pulled into the drive thru another car was in another drive thru lane being helped. Although all of the aisles were marked closed, because the other car was there being helped I thought maybe the teller would take pity on me and help me out. Obviously someone was still there.
The bank branch closest to my house is a drive up only bank. There are screens next to each terminal instead of a large bay window where you see the tellers. So I hit the call button ready to give her my sweetest face and nicest smile...or ready to be ignored. She came on the screen immediately so I flashed her my smile thinking of course she was going to help me. And in a matter of one second I turned bi-polar. The bank teller flashed me her own kind of smile - not nice so much as evil bitch - and said "Sorry, we're closed." Then her face was gone replaced by the static screen welcoming me to my bank.
I have no idea if she could still hear or see me. In that moment I assumd she could and also assumed I was not going to get her to change her mind so opted instead for bitching at her. Or bitching at a blank screen as it was.
I know you're closed, but you're obviously there! I thought you could hook a girl up and take my money. You're a bank. You can't just do your job a few minutes past closing time! Heaven forbid you stay a few minutes late.
Then I pulled away, pissed that this teller wouldn't help me, but satisfied that I had somewhat let her know how I feel. Or at least let the blank screen know.
Still mad and pulling up to the next intersection I yelled, "That's ridiculous!" Obviously a term I must say too much out of anger because my 5 year old immediately piped up from the back seat. "I didn't do it!" Oops. Kind of forgot about the kids in the car. That's why I was late to begin with. That and the fact that I work at the one place on Earth that doesn't offer direct deposit. My son then continued the rest of the way home to repeat my complaints. I tried to turn it into a life lesson about working hard and understanding people's needs and being considerate of those needs. He just kept repeating, "She needs to do her job. She wasn't being very nice."
I'd switch banks except I'm lazy and they have their ATM machine set to a British voice. I just love to hear her tell me my transaction is PRO-cessing.
It's the little things in life.
The bank branch closest to my house is a drive up only bank. There are screens next to each terminal instead of a large bay window where you see the tellers. So I hit the call button ready to give her my sweetest face and nicest smile...or ready to be ignored. She came on the screen immediately so I flashed her my smile thinking of course she was going to help me. And in a matter of one second I turned bi-polar. The bank teller flashed me her own kind of smile - not nice so much as evil bitch - and said "Sorry, we're closed." Then her face was gone replaced by the static screen welcoming me to my bank.
I have no idea if she could still hear or see me. In that moment I assumd she could and also assumed I was not going to get her to change her mind so opted instead for bitching at her. Or bitching at a blank screen as it was.
I know you're closed, but you're obviously there! I thought you could hook a girl up and take my money. You're a bank. You can't just do your job a few minutes past closing time! Heaven forbid you stay a few minutes late.
Then I pulled away, pissed that this teller wouldn't help me, but satisfied that I had somewhat let her know how I feel. Or at least let the blank screen know.
Still mad and pulling up to the next intersection I yelled, "That's ridiculous!" Obviously a term I must say too much out of anger because my 5 year old immediately piped up from the back seat. "I didn't do it!" Oops. Kind of forgot about the kids in the car. That's why I was late to begin with. That and the fact that I work at the one place on Earth that doesn't offer direct deposit. My son then continued the rest of the way home to repeat my complaints. I tried to turn it into a life lesson about working hard and understanding people's needs and being considerate of those needs. He just kept repeating, "She needs to do her job. She wasn't being very nice."
I'd switch banks except I'm lazy and they have their ATM machine set to a British voice. I just love to hear her tell me my transaction is PRO-cessing.
It's the little things in life.
Friday, April 27, 2012
Remember me?
Okay, so I realize it's been a while since I last posted. My apologies. But I'm here to tell you...no promise you that you will be hearing a lot more from me. No I haven't quit my job to take this on full time. As much as I wanted to win the Mega Millions, I didn't.
You see, I have a friend. Well, I have several friends. At least a dozen. Maybe a baker's dozen. Well, maybe just a dozen. One of them - we'll call her Mona - is about to have a kidney transplant. No, Mona is not a random 85-year-old diabetic woman I befriended by volunteering at the local nursing home. Nursing homes freak me out. I really don't want to get so old that I'm stuck living someplace that I am not smart enough to get out of even though plastered on the door is the difficult passcode of "1 2 3 4".
Back to Mona. She's one of these skinny bitches that is great at everything, nice, stylish, talented - your basic nightmare that you would never be friends with. Her only saving grace is she's a boozy whore like me. And she's my date to see uncomfortable movies like "Girl with a dragon tattoo" and "Black Swan." You just can't see a movie about ass rape or masturbation with just anyone.
Mona has her transplant surgery in a few days and then will be stuck out of town for many weeks while she recovers from surgery. She has to stay close to the clinic (many hours away from our town) to make sure the new kidney is good to go. I know she'll be going partly nuts during this time away as she's normally a very busy, active girl. (Again, why am I friends with her?) So I figure the least I can do is write a little something funny everyday that she can read and remember how awesome I am. And never let it be said that I don't do the least I can do. Also never let it be said that I can't turn any situation back to being about me. It's one of my greatest gifts.
Tonight we're "Carbing up for Cancer" by indulging in a lot of pizza and beer before she heads out. (I'm pretty sure it is what her doctor prescribed.) However, I realized a little while ago that of my girlfriends that are attending this soiree - 3 are pregnant, 1 doesn't drink and 1 is a transplant patient. Holy shit! Maybe I need to hit the nursing home to find some partners in crime for tonight. So I'm taking applications for a new set of girlfriends. I must have proof of your birth control method and a physical will be required.
P.S. On a serious note, please say a prayer for my dear friend. It's okay, God knows her real name. And a very special prayer for the super generous donor who is giving up one of his kidneys. God bless him today and every day.
You see, I have a friend. Well, I have several friends. At least a dozen. Maybe a baker's dozen. Well, maybe just a dozen. One of them - we'll call her Mona - is about to have a kidney transplant. No, Mona is not a random 85-year-old diabetic woman I befriended by volunteering at the local nursing home. Nursing homes freak me out. I really don't want to get so old that I'm stuck living someplace that I am not smart enough to get out of even though plastered on the door is the difficult passcode of "1 2 3 4".
Back to Mona. She's one of these skinny bitches that is great at everything, nice, stylish, talented - your basic nightmare that you would never be friends with. Her only saving grace is she's a boozy whore like me. And she's my date to see uncomfortable movies like "Girl with a dragon tattoo" and "Black Swan." You just can't see a movie about ass rape or masturbation with just anyone.
Mona has her transplant surgery in a few days and then will be stuck out of town for many weeks while she recovers from surgery. She has to stay close to the clinic (many hours away from our town) to make sure the new kidney is good to go. I know she'll be going partly nuts during this time away as she's normally a very busy, active girl. (Again, why am I friends with her?) So I figure the least I can do is write a little something funny everyday that she can read and remember how awesome I am. And never let it be said that I don't do the least I can do. Also never let it be said that I can't turn any situation back to being about me. It's one of my greatest gifts.
Tonight we're "Carbing up for Cancer" by indulging in a lot of pizza and beer before she heads out. (I'm pretty sure it is what her doctor prescribed.) However, I realized a little while ago that of my girlfriends that are attending this soiree - 3 are pregnant, 1 doesn't drink and 1 is a transplant patient. Holy shit! Maybe I need to hit the nursing home to find some partners in crime for tonight. So I'm taking applications for a new set of girlfriends. I must have proof of your birth control method and a physical will be required.
P.S. On a serious note, please say a prayer for my dear friend. It's okay, God knows her real name. And a very special prayer for the super generous donor who is giving up one of his kidneys. God bless him today and every day.
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