Now you know I'm all about anger management. More assertive than aggressive (with a side of passive pouting now and then). But sometimes a girl's gotta scream. Literally or figuratively. Because when you push this girl a little too far, things happen. Screams happen. Find out why:
1. Because French doctors need to get a clue
Recent real conversation between me and the on call doc on the phone:
Me: When I spit it's green.
Le docteur: You mean when you expectorate it's green.
Me: Yeah, when I expectorate... I'm not French, I don't know all the technical words.
Le docteur: So can you cough for me now?
Me: Well, normally it's a hacky cough.
Le docteur: That's not a very hacky cough.
Me: Yeah, well, normally it is...
After three doctors I finally got the treatment I think I need. Did it really need to take this long?
Recommended scream: Silent scream. I'm sick, remember?
2. Because "communication" and "work" generally don't go in the same sentence.
Unless that sentence is, "Geez, communication at work is kinda crappy." Now, I'm not targeting my company. Just all companies. Cause there always comes a point when you shake your hands in the air and wonder why you wasted your breath making a suggestion. Only to receive a "yeah, thanks, but no thanks."
Or you think you've found a way to make things a bit easier but receive a "we'll see..." which means "around, oh, say, never."
"Yeah, if you could keep all comments and suggestions to yourself, that'd be great."
Recommended scream: Permanent sigh and head bang against cubicle wall.
3. Because my husband has a problem with his computer. Again.
My husband is a really smart guy. He can tell you exactly how much fertilizer you need for a thousand geraniums. Or calculate the profit margin in his head in two seconds. He's not bad with computers. But I'm his go to girl when something goes wrong. Because if there's one thing he's not, it's patient.
If I had a euro (cause it's stronger than the dollar today) for everytime he's said, "come here, my printer's not working," I'd be richer than Bill Gates and the late Steve Jobs combined. And let's throw Ashton Kutscher in there since he portrayed Jobs in the movie. And he's cute.
Real conversation with my husband:
Him: Come here a second (after banging his fist on desk in frustration with technology)
Me: Er, you got a problem there?
Him: Computer won't print and it's urgent (note from me: it's always urgent.)
Me: Did you try turning everything on and off again?
Me: Did you try reinitializing the wifi?
Me: Let's do that.
Him: Still not working.
Me: Ok, try printing off my tablet.
Him: Ok, it's working.
Me: And what do you say after someone helps you?
Him: Uh, merci.
Recommended scream: Audible sigh and heavy eye-rolling.
4. Because I have to repeat "get dressed/let's go/eat your toast" about a million times.
She is precious and a half. She is smart and sweet. She's also a slowpoke or purposefully stubborn. Maybe some parents at this point would pop their kids. I don't think it helps much in these cases. Maybe I'm losing my credibility with her. But sometimes nearly six year olds take their own sweet time and choose not to listen one bit to their well-meaning parents. So as I stand at the sink saying for the ninth time that it's time to brush your teeth, I think I'm gonna lose it. And sometimes I do.
Recommended scream: well, you shouldn't really scream. But it happens. So, gritted teeth scream followed by "Mommies get frustrated sometimes" speech.
5. Because I don't even know why I bother to clean this place.
It is so typical. I come home around 5:30 or 6 and have to think about dinner, maybe a load of laundry, playing with Juju, hearing about her day, oh, and I need some chocolate, and...WHAT is that smell? The cat has graced us with some powerful stuff in his litterbox. Hubby won't be home till 7:30 or 8. So it once again falls to me to do the scooping. Plus grains of litter on the floor, again. My next house pet will be a robo-fish.
Recommended scream: Charley Brown-like Aaarrrrggghh and zen breathing.
There, I feel better having gotten that off my chest. Now if I could get rid of this chest cold. And get a maid. And start telling people to "talk to the hand" cause the Milam ain't listening (if people even still say that).
What makes you scream?! And what is your best way to deal with it?