Ponderings

I wonder:

-what the universe is trying to tell me?  In the last two days I have been “followed” by Greek imagery (ATLAS Cleaners, a license plate that said GREEK2, a MEDUSA head vinyl sticker on the back of a Mercedes, etc.., etc.)  Today I was speaking to the new girl and I asked her what her last name was.  When I got home, I was watching some coverage of the rebuilding in Ecuador and the structural engineer’s last name was the same as the new girl.  I’m not talking a common last name, either. What does it mean? Synchronicty abounds. What’s the frequency, Kenneth?

-why it takes two and a half months to get an appointment with a new General Practitioner?  I need a family doctor, someone who can oversee my health, and this doctor came highly recommended.  I’d say-by the time I finally get to see her,  I’ll forget why I needed her in the first place.

-why the Catholic High School attended by some of my friends kids decided to name their sports teams after 12 Greek (there it is again) deities?  Isn’t that paganism?

-where my next desk location will be?  In the span of 19 years, I’ve gone from a private office to a shared office (which was a converted store-room) to a window cubicle to a non-window cubicle to a trading desk.  Everyone in my office suite has moved to New Jersey (not going there!) and I’m next to move out.  If my desk progression is any indication, my next location should be the coat closet.

-what the hell you were thinking airing out your dirty family laundry? You have already been pegged as the bad guy, that little stunt didn’t help.  Grow the hell up and shut the f*ck up.

-why my tolerance for sports parents gets smaller and smaller each year?  There should be a rule that spectator parents have to keep quiet, or maybe just yell “YAY” during a game.  Parents should not make derogatory comments about any child on the field and should keep their yaps shut about the coach(es).  The last few games I’ve had to say something to the parents around me about shutting up and it just left a bad feeling that I had to do so. I sincerely hope these kids don’t hear the comments when they’re on the field.

-why my 17-year old speaks in a wholly different language than us?  Words like “bling” and “dab” and “chill” and “squad” all have totally different meanings than what Webster’s dictionary cites .  Add the weird meaning slang to her mumbling at us and I’m ready to go get my Xanax prescription refilled.

-why, after all these years doing my job, no one has listened to me when I’ve said that the procedures to execute a certain report are repetitive, tedious and asinine?  Finally, someone has stepped up and agreed with me and since she’s in a position of power, can implement the change to these procedures, making my life easier and the reports more comprehensive.  Of course, she’ll get all the credit, the raises and promotions as well.

-why is the Sweeney Todd song “Pirelli’s Miracle Elixir” on an endless loop in my head?

-when bloggers and social media mavens will stop calling their kids “littles”. It makes me as ragey as the term “kiddos” when referring to offspring.

-what this weird obsession older women have with dyeing their hair different colors. I’ve asked my kids to stop me if I ever express an interest to put purple/blue/pink streaks in my 60+ year old hair.  That’s about 10 years from now, if you’re counting.

-how much longer I have to keep this secret.

Anyone else wondering and pondering anything?

 

 

 

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