The Twentysomething Teenager

I hope some of you won’t claim it’s an understatement when I say I’ve been really, really grouchy lately. Combine that with having absolutely nothing to do at work (which sounds fun, but in reality is…um…BORING), and it does not make for a sociable Roni.

Today was no exception, although when people tried talking to me I did my best to respond using several words of several syllables each (otherwise, I’d pretty much have regressed into a sulky teenager again. No, wait! I was never a sulky teenager! Right, Mom?) and laughing when they were obviously attempting to be funny. It was a little bit cool that I was sitting near a bunch of people who had trained me when I first started working here, and they’d actually ask me questions about work. Go figure. Like I know anything. Oh yes – I am incredible! I know everything. (At least, that’s what I tend to think in my grouchy state of mind.)

This is really all just background, and I needed to write a post that was longer than two sentences. Also, I was hoping that I would come off as being a little bit funny, or maybe fun to read. Did it work?

I turned to a coworker (also one of my former trainers) when she asked me a question. No idea what the question was, but you can bet I answered the heck out of it. Then I swiveled my sort-of-comfy office chair back towards my computer, except in doing so I somehow managed to catch my fingers between the desk and the arm of the chair, pinching them quite soundly. And I really mean quite soundly. They turned super-ultra-uber red and, being the grouch that I am, I might have burst into tears if not for my amazing self-control at work. (It never seems to come into play much of anywhere else…)

Instead of bursting into tears, I headed to the bathroom to run cold water over my hand. I did my best to calm down and was on my way to recovery, and my way back to my desk, when I passed the drinking fountain and decided to get a drink to help soothe my nerves (and hurt feelings).

This particular drinking fountain usually comes out in a little, tiny, pitiful stream about 1″ from the faucet. And you have to press the knob really hard to get the water to start pumping.

Except, apparently, they have fixed this drinking fountain.

So that it now shoots a stream that is (I am so not making this up) well over a foot in height.

Guess where my face was at the time it started going?

Yeah, I’m not sure that I’ve ever been so relieved that there was no one near me to see that happen. Wouldn’t you know, though, instead of laughing about it – and seriously, isn’t that just a little bit funny? – I again reverted to my grouchy Roni mood and rushed back to the bathroom so that no one would see me cry.

(For the record, I did go get a drink once my face was dried off. It was delicious. And my hand even felt better by the time I finally got back to my desk.)

Tilt

I woke up sometime in the middle of the night with what I thought was a crick in my neck. I tried twisting my head all sorts of ways to get rid of it, but eventually gave up and went back to sleep.

This morning, though, I discovered it had gotten much worse, and my best guess now is some sort of a pinched nerve. I can hardly move my head at all without experiencing shooting pain down the right side of my neck, and I definitely can’t look to the right. In fact, at the moment, I’m walking around with my slightly tilted to the left. Maybe not slightly. It is getting a bit pronounced. I’ve tried straightening several times – only to be met with agonizing (or, perhaps, just highly uncomfortable) pain. So here I am. Lopsided Roni.

How was your weekend?

Clean House and Nutella…

…But where are all the people?

Um, so remember that one time I decided to be in charge of a book club? …Apparently, you and I are the only ones who remember.

I understand that it’s a busy time of year. I understand that it was confusing to postpone March’s discussion until April 10. I’m busy myself, and I just realized a few days ago that our meeting was coming up. But…I did remember, I did clean my house (well, really, the Romgi cleaned and I wandered around looking for some trash to throw away), I did prepare all the background information and author biography I was asked to provide, and…here it is an hour past starting time, and I’m sitting in my apartment, all alone. (Sigh…)

[Sidenote: do you guys know the song about the petunia in the onion patch? You do now, right?]

So this is my frustration. I had a really difficult time getting anyone to choose a book for April’s discussion – I sent out three emails before someone finally replied that “I just don’t think anyone wanted the pressure of picking the book!” I’m fairly certain that the reason I sent the email in the first place was because I didn’t want the pressure, especially two months in a row in addition to hosting. Two more emails, and one brave soul suggested a title. Hallelujah. Unfortunately, I’m beginning to see (very clearly) why our ward’s book club has not thrived.

What’s this? Someone just came by! Granted, it was an hour late, and she just came by briefly to see how things were going…it was kind of considerate though, wasn’t it? She advised me to put another announcement in the Relief Society bulletin and send out an email reminding people the day before.

Now that is what I wanted to write about. Here’s what I’ve been thinking for the last hour: These are grown women, and I am not their mother. I should not have to send note after note for 2 weeks reminding them of one meeting. If they want to sign up for something, it’s their job to make sure they actually go. I did send a reminder within the last 5 days — which, I now realize, is just not good enough. But…when I had to reschedule our March discussion at the last minute, I wrote a quick email explaining and asking people to reply so I knew they had gotten the message. Five of the six responses said, in different words, “Oh, alright, that’s great actually because I was busy tonight anyway and couldn’t come.” I also put a sign (and a pen) on my front door (for those who did not get the email) asking them to leave their name so I could contact them with rescheduling information. No one put their name. Did word get around on the ward grapevine quickly? Who knows. What I do know is that the majority of the club was not planning on coming that night. I probably would have met with something similar to tonight’s “discussion” had I not postponed. That’s pretty disappointing to me.

So there’s my rambling. To cheer myself up I had two big pieces of toast with Nutella. Mmm.

I feel much better now.