Coolness Confirmed: Joe said, in reference to my post about being cool, that technically Connor did not say that I was cool. He said that what Connor was saying was that texting with me was cool and that there needed to be further proof that I actually do possess the coolness gene. I have proof.
Connor had dinner with us tonight. In the midst of the various conversations, Kacey sarcastically joked to me, “Well, aren’t you cool?” to which Connor replied, “She is.”
Don’t piss me off. Or just go ahead because I won’t do anything about it anyway: I had a little issue yesterday with a particular person, in a place where I spend the main part of my day. Said Person and I, along with a couple other people, are trying to accomplish something together. Said Person went on vacation for a couple of weeks and before leaving, asked me to accomplish something while she was away and make sure it was provided to Important Person. Said Person had gotten a start on this something but needed to hand it off to someone else for completion. I did just as she asked and Important Person was very, very pleased. When Said Person returned from vacation and found that I had very successfully completed the something, she was apparently threatened and proceeded to pick apart the something piece by piece, even going so far as to say to me, “Wow. You must have really hated the piece that I started, because you completely changed everything.” (Did not!) Said Person likes to be important and look important. Said Person wants to be a leader. I am more than happy be the behind-the-scenes person, and Said Person should know this about me, but clearly she wonders if I’m in competition with her. I was annoyed with Said Person. I was offended by her remarks, even though I gave them little merit since Important Person had already made it clear she was happy with the something I did.
I did the girl thing. I stewed about it. I griped about it. I thought about taking some sort of secret revenge involving a computer mouse and stapler. In the end, I couldn’t do it. It was fun to think about though. Besides, I am resting comfortably in the knowledge that Said Person’s insecurities are torture enough for her. I don’t need to mess with her things.
I live in Narnia: Rumor has it that Minnesota is in for another good dumping of snow next week. I can’t stomach the thought. We are in the midst of the never-ending winter. There is so much snow on the ground here that our city just came through the neighborhoods with a front-loader and pushed the snowbanks back from the curbs and further into the yards. I presume this in anticipation of the additional six to twelve inches Mark keeps telling me that we’ll be getting. My favorite new saying is “Why do we live in this god-forsaken state?” I hate it here. But I will completely deny having said that come July.
My firstborn is 22 years old today! Happy Birthday, Brad! I love you!