If You Don't Have Anything Nice to Say...

Don't say anything at all.  Right.  We've heard it a million times.  And it's good advice.  Especially for a a blogger.

That said...

The next person who says to me, after I COMMISERATE with her about something by saying, "Oh, I'm so sorry ..." , "Why should you be sorry?  It's not your fault!" is gonna get a pop in the schnoz.  Of course it's not my fault.  I should have said what I meant which is that I'm sorry this or that has happened to you.  Why must you, when I am being NICE to you, slap me around?  Humph.  

And the next teenager who leaves a piece of trash, like a used up water bottle (why the heck are you drinking those in the house where we have RUNNING water anyway???) or the wrapper of a power bar (again, I say, those are for convenience when we are out!!!) on my floor is gonna get that piece of trash put where the sun don't shine...

And the next dog that jumps up on my newly painted window trim to bark at a squirrel, fer Chrissakes!, is gonna get a piece of my mind!

And I'm finished with the green sweater and it mostly fits.  Except I have to weave in all the ends because there were at least two knots in each skein of that Rowan Summer Tweed, but that's not the problem.  I lack the force of will to decide on my next project, which I could start TODAY if I had a lick of sense and not having a project waiting in the wings is just plain stupid.  Well, I have sock and blanket and lace projects, but GAH.  Having no sweater project gives me sweaty armpits.  (I'm not counting the silly pink baby sweater for nobody, Smartypants.)

And the next piece of freakin' technology that gives me an error message or fails to boot up as it should is gonna get TOSSED ACROSS THE ROOM!

AND DON'T GET ME STARTED ABOUT ST. LOUIS DRIVERS!!  If I don't get KILLED on the way to or from my errands today, it will be a miracle.

Ahem.

Awww.  Husband just brought in the freshly brewed pot of coffee that he himself prepared, and topped off my cup.  All better.

Comments

[Jules]

Yeah, I've gotten the "Why are YOU sorry?" response enough times that I have to bite my tongue to hold back "Okay then: I'm HAPPY. Woohoo! Things really suck for you!" I swear though, one of these days, it's gonna come out.

[Rose]

Ann, I love that you wrote that having no sweater project gives you sweaty armpits: it's just past earthy but not graphic enough to be truly gross.

I, too, am a project fiend.

It's fun.

Hope your plumbing is well...and I bought stuff to make play dough yesterday. Making play dough at home is a poor substitution for the Konzen house, but what can you do? Aeslinn sobbed for about 15 minutes after she heard we couldn't come play with you, but you should have heard her tell Dad (we went to his house to play in the water on Wednesday) all about how your toilet overflowed just like ours did...and on and on, in mostly-imagined detail, for about five minutes. It was way cuter than I thought anyone could be while talking about toilet water in places other than the toilet.

rose

[Carole]

I dunno, it sounds to me like you need something a bit stronger than coffee!

[7letterdeborah]

or maybe less coffee?

I always grit my teeth and explain the difference between and empathetic "I'm sorry" and a contrite one. Being a pedant always makes me feel better.

[Ruth Brooks]

You have a right to vent -- anyway you like. I started my day with major computer problems, downloading stuff I was araid of, and then having to leave to teach at the Institute.

Just driving the very hot car there and returning to it after class about wiped me out. Perhaps the heat is pulling us down, eh? Gotta blame something!

Ruth Brooks