Tag Archives: Poop

HELP I AM TRAPPED IN MY SKI JACKET

3 Jan

It’s Monday, and if you need further verification of that fact, let me sum up, in detail, the current things that have gone wrong:

  • The heat in our house went out
  • I had some health problems
  • The baby got sick
  • I didn’t sleep last night
  • I had to get up early for work
  • The heat in the library went out

 Basically I’ve had no heat save for a shower all weekend and I was actually looking forward to going to work because at least then the State would have to warm me but I get here and the heat was out until about one o’clock here, too. I had been practically living in my cute vintage ski jacket and I even said to Anthony at one point that there was no reason to take it off.

I came back from lunch to find the library toasty-warm when I realized I had a new problem: my vintage ski coat had an old zipper, and it had jammed. I spent a few minutes sweating and panicking as I couldn’t get the damn jacket off and now the library was hot enough to wear flip-flops. I very nearly sent out a tweet saying,

HELP I AM TRAPPED IN MY SKI JACKET

But I was too hot to even tweet. I somehow managed to force the zipper down and although it is still firmly locked together, I wiggled out of it like a snake shedding its skin. Its very cute, vintage skin, I should say.

I’m free of the coat but my other problems sadly still exist. Particularly the sleep deprivation. I’m not nice when I’m sleep deprived. I’ve fielded some very, very stupid phone calls today and it was all I could do to hold it together. Hello, Monday Morning: Sorry, the computer can’t read your mind and find a book in the database if you have exactly the wrong title, and no, I haven’t a goddamn clue why your computer isn’t working. Have you tried turning it off and then back on again, NEWB??!!!

All I can say is that it was a good thing I had such a long maternity leave so my students didn’t have to face my newborn sleep-deprived wrath. I’m sure they would have wondered why their nice librarian was replaced with a very mean lady who obviously can’t operate zippers.

I am in the middle of compling a list of the Best Of Follow Friday since we’re starting a brand new year and all, and going back and reading through those posts is one of the only things that has me smiling. I actually had to hold myself back from laughing as several students came up and asked me questions. I didn’t want them to think I was laughing at them, but you try reading this tweet in front of your coworkers and we’ll see if you don’t have to cover your laugh with a fake cough:

AKbirder The bartender asks “what’s that steering wheel doing in your pants?” The pirate answers, “Aaaarg, it’s driving me nuts”.

The other two things that have kept me smiling today include an email from my bestie where she claimed that Microsoft Office clearly has no friends, and the comments from flickr relating to this post about Isobel typing the word, “poop.”

Monday is almost over and so far, 2011 is on notice. Tuesday, I’m looking at you.

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Typist

1 Jan

While at my parents’ for Christmas, Isobel was allowed to type on her Papa’s computer. This is a Very Big Deal because at our house she’s not allowed to touch the keyboard.

(Before you think we’re horrible Nazi parents, the reasons are twofold: 1. for each post I write or photo I edit, Isobel is on my lap amusing herself 90% of the time. She’s on my lap right now, in fact. I would not have a blog, nor an Etsy shop, nor a photography business if we let her pound on the keyboard while I was trying to type, which brings us to 2. she has a nasty habit of trying to climb on the desk chair in order to bang on the mouse or throw the keyboard around. This is dangerous, both for her health and for our equipment. Although she used to bang on the keyboard as a little baby, we’ve made the keyboard and the green chair off limits. Not to be outdone by her mean parents, what she likes to do is go in the library, say, “Bye bye!” and shut the doors before attempting to climb on the green chair and access the keyboard while we are out of sight.)

After a few minutes of typing, this is what we found she had written:

These are happy tears, people.