Fuck Today (Part 1)

Please tell me that’s a metaphor.

Actually, on second thought… please tell me it’s not.

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Once a meaningless task gets promoted to an impossible one. It doesn’t really matter anymore. All you can do is claim it’s a round kitten.

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Screw the blasted US prison-industrial complex and its executions. :rage:

Yesterday I had to calm down a patient who freaked out on walking into my operating theatre because she reckoned it looks like an execution chamber … :grimacing:

I couldn’t completely disagree with her; I’ve noticed the parallels myself. There is a good reason that operating theatres and tables look like death chamber equipment. It’s because some bastard decided to emulate our look to make killing people look “nice”. :unamused:

(OK, it’s not fuck today but I’m still sad (for the patient) and annoyed at US executions having such a long reach).

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Fuck today. And fuck anyone who thinks Sandy Hook didn’t happen. I’m going back to bed, I just can’t deal with humans anymore.

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Hard to “like” something like that, but I’m right there with ya’.

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I hate exam week. I’m about to plunge into some hardcore studying, but I hate how little time I’ve been able to devote to studying through the semester. I didn’t sleep last night trying to get caught up on the exam this morning, and when I got home I fell asleep until recently, leaving me with less time than I would like to study for tomorrow’s exams.

Today got off to a shitty start too. Driving over to campus I got to an intersection without a protected left, and there was a cyclist there, coming up in the opposing lane. I gave have him right of way, and because it happened to be where I was going, I turned to end up behind him. He was maybe twelve feet in front of me and I was moving pretty slow because I had just turned from a complete stop. It was a very short turning lane, so I was content to stay behind him until I turned into where I was headed. All of a sudden he stops, gets off of his bike and throws up his arms in “come at me, bro” pose and yells, “You got a fucking problem?” My reaction was really just, erm… no… not really. I don’t know what he wanted from me. Maybe he was expecting me to open my door and get out, or my window to have a shouting match. I just did what I’ve decided I will do from now on if someone does this again: I just looked at him until he realized I wasn’t going to engage him and he bicycled off.

Pro-tip to aggressive road ragers, getting on your bicycle and pedaling off is not the most badass way to leave a situation. I was more baffled than angry, but it left a sour taste in my mouth for the better part of the morning. Then I get home and discover parking tickets from my university that A) Add up to well over a hundred bucks. B) That I never received on my windshield ever. C) When I rarely parked there and always in pay to park garages. D) From two years ago. First notice.

I am not looking forward to the waste of time that will be straightening this out.

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My son has pneumonia again. This happens more than once every year and follows a predictable formula every time: he gets a slight cough, so we put him on pretty strong medication straight away. Occasionally it works, but two or three times a year it goes to his lungs and we spend the next few weeks watching him cough during the day and night, with fevers and other problems. He’s thin anyway, so we spend months trying to get his weight back up, only to see it fall back off again. We’ve been trying to reduce his medication and build up his own resistance when he’s stronger, but we can’t risk it too much as it only takes a slight illness to destroy months of effort.

Today we weighed him at 15kg, 1.5 kg lighter than his sister (who’s three years younger than him). He’s off the weight chart, and he’s still not well after two weeks. The situation has been getting better over the past few years, but every year it’s like we go three steps forward and two steps back.

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That’s terrible. I’m sure you have him on nutritional supplements or have considered the option and pretty much know when and what drugs to give him. Sounds like one of those situations where the rest is really out of your hands. I can’t imagine how frustrating that is. Either way, I hope he does better and that you guys manage to get some momentum going in your favor.

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He’s a fighter - he was born prematurely and was abandoned probably due to his lung problems (he couldn’t feed and his parents probably couldn’t pay for the surgery), but someone found him and he was given surgery that saved his life. At a year old we started looking after him as he wasn’t expected to last more than a few weeks longer in the orphanage. At three we were told that he might not last another year in China, so we left soon after adopting him. At four he lost almost all of his teeth due to steroids, poor nutrition or some other reason (which really reduced the foods we could give him). This year has been better than most and we have a doctor who will take us seriously rather than writing us off as overreacting parents, but it’s still frightening to see how quickly his weight drops off when he gets sick (he was the same weight as his sister last month). He manages to stay really positive throughout this though, so it’s not nearly as difficult as it could be.

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I’m so sorry. I know that must be tough. My thoughts are with your family.

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All of my problems are nothing, and if you ever need anything from me do not hesitate to pick up the proverbial phone. You are a better person than I am, and 2016 is going to be a great year for us all.

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Cheers to that. I’m ready.

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Man, that’s shitty. All I can say is it sounds like you are giving him the best odds he could possibly have. I am impressed.

He will grow up knowing you were fully dedicated to his well-being and giving him a good life, and that is the one thing that makes the biggest difference for any kid.

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My SO just went to coffee ten minutes ago with half of the pair that tried to have an affair with her.

Why yes, I did just open a beer at ten AM on a Sunday. (I had a friend literally take away the Xanax. I’m not that self destructive).

#fucktoday

Edit

“Are you upset?”, she asks.
" No, go have coffee. I’m. Fine.", I said as I gritted my teeth in a manner not unlike a glacier carving a valley.

Edit

My message to the person she is currently out to coffee with:

You had one job. One fucking job. With three tasks.

  1. Don’t kill me.
  2. Don’t burn down my house.
  3. Don’t encourage your husband to have an affair with my SO.

How hard is that? Why did you plan MDMA fueled parties for this shit to go down? Why did you tell my SO that I am violent, and somehow made her believe it? Why am I so fucking worthless to you, when we have been friends for years?

Everyone, close your ears and eyes, this is rage talking. You don’t need to read it, but I need to write it. My therapist is on vakay.

How can you, Mrs. B, as a school teacher, a feminist, and a survivor, who specializes in women’s studies, be okay with planned fucking drug fueled party rape!? And how the fuck did you get my SO on board? How the fuck. Did. This. Happen.

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Sorry for “like” but they don’t have a hug button.

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Agreed, indeed.

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It’ll be okay. I have a plan for me (California), and regardless of how I feel my SO is her own person, she can have her own friends. I would never stand in the way, even though I hate them soooooo much.

I may need some new crowns from all the jaw clenching though.

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I will send you some sweet Canadian muscle relaxants and OTC codeine. That’ll help with the clenching. :wink:

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Partake of the jar until it is empty.

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@funruly @Donald_Petersen

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