LitaWrites (real_lawyer) wrote,

Tossed Salad Friday

~~ “How’s your daughter?” one woman asks another. “Which one — the one I like or the other one?”

~~ All I said to a nodding acquaintance was, “Hi! How are you?” The response was very detailed; here’s how I remember it: “Not so great. I took a mental health day, you know? Because my boss is a dried-up piece of shit who doesn’t know how to do a damn thing, so he keeps pressing me, pressing me, pressing me to do everything. You know how that chaps your ass? Mine, too. And I stuff my feelings down with too much food and that’s not healthy, so all I want for Christmas is to get away, but that’s not happening because, like I said, my boss sucks.”

~~ I sat near a woman in a waiting room who was crying on the phone. Seems there was an accident near the restaurant (or bar) where she worked, and since traffic was detoured, she only made $12.00 in tips. Bus fare to and from the doctor’s office was $4.50, and she owed a $15.00 co-pay. She sounded miserable, and of course, I felt terrible. I ached to pay her bill anonymously, but all I had in my wallet was 25 cents. When they called my name, I walked by her chair, reached underneath and said, “You dropped this” as I handed her the quarter. I didn’t feel any better, and she probably didn’t, either, but it’s important to keep the sharing muscle toned.

~~ “I’m tired of people like you,” he wrote in an email. “You use your blog as a tool to spread anti-American garbage.” My reply: Please stop reading my PERSONAL blog, as it is indeed intended only to share my OPINION.

~~ This has to be a joke-joke, right?

~~ As long as I’m posting tweets:

~~ I know the Time cover isn’t a literary distinction, but in the world of Der Pumpkinfuhrer* and his supporters, it seems like it is one — from what I hear and read, they consider it validation. Too bad this cover isn’t real, as it certainly couldn’t be misinterpreted:

*nod to Daily Kos

~~ For those of you who wade through my politics to get to Dementia-ville, your reward is forthcoming. If you’re in the opposite camp, skip to my weekend wishes and get on with your day.

~~ She’s screaming, screaming, screaming. What’s wrong? Nothing that I can discern except that the aide is gabbing, gabbing, gabbing on the phone.

~~ This is the same aide who can’t find the strength to say “Hello” back when I speak to her, but can chatter, natter, and chinwag on the phone for at least 10 hours per day. She’s also the one who responded to my husband’s inquiry as to why she never responds to me, “It’s probably because I’m sick and my throat hurts.” Say what?

~~ Stop, you lousy you, you, you! she screeches as if the Vikings had breached the sea wall of her village. However, all’s well in her little dementia castle — she’s just pissed at a contestant on Game Show Network.

~~ I find myself singing the theme to “Mash” a lot lately. I know all the words.

Have a great weekend!
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