Asshole kitten destroyed my beautiful new plant.
This is why we can’t have nice things
I just burned the crap out of my tongue with a bowl of pozole.
I thought it was Ringo that no one cares about.
Marmalade was scolding me for eating cold biryani and I was arguing that it was fine and I choked on some and now I think there’s rice in my nose.
I did this a few weeks ago and it was SO ANNOYING.
I have to work 12 hour days today and tomorrow.
My kids’ 80 year old paternal grandfather has been in the hospital with pneumonia, on top of his heart condition. Nobody told me. If he had died how long before someone thought to tell his only grandkids? They would have had no preparation for that loss.
I’m not part of that family and don’t expect to be kept in the loop but my kids don’t need to be blindsided by the death of their beloved grandpa.
I don’t have pozole.
I don’t have biryani.
I care about Ringo!
Why does Trader Joe’s eggnog liqueur have an aftertaste that’s oddly reminiscent of cheap bubblegum, like the hard-as-a-rock kind that they used to put in trading card packs? Yuck. I hate to throw out booze. Maybe if I cut it with actual eggnog it won’t be as odd tasting?
I am not at home napping.
Ringo did the Thomas the Train engine narration! Ergo he must be one of the important ones.
Is that why new Thomas the tank engine stories sound all wrong? This is massively huge! Ringo keeps his face.
Also they are totally in Liverpool English and I had never noticed that before
My complaints are medium today.
- the knee previously known as the good knee is now being a bad knee. I couldn’t walk this morning. I found a way to make it work but this isn’t great
- the kid formerly known as the kid without my genetic condition has been diagnosed with that condition. I’d had the irrational hope that his autism would exempt him from all other medical crap forever. Apparently not.
- The other kid has a hernia in a private area and needs surgery. Nobody is excited about this.
- There are some serious concerns about bigger kid possibly having a heart condition, thanks to the genetic thing. He is being sent for tests. I’m not telling him we’re worried about this because I can be terrified enough for both of us.
…that’s a lot of medium complaints. Universe, make the medium complaints tiny, plz
Your complaints are only medium in comparison with the Entire World. To you they are major and I want to hug you.
My tiny complaint which is actually tiny:
I ate a cheeseburger at lunch and it was “fine.”
Cheeseburgers should be orgasmic experiences. I feel cheated.
FOLLOW UP TINY COMPLAINT I CAN HEAR SOMEONE CUTTING HIS FINGERNAILS IN HIS OFFICE.
I KNOW WHO YOU ARE, SIR.
In my world, those are not medium complaints. Genetics are the absolute worst. Why can’t bodies just function properly?