I Screwed Up

I am officially a dumb ass (again). I think it happened once in 1985.

Joe and I just got home from our Christmas rounds and decided to give the computer a try again. Joe being the optimist that he is thought that maybe there was a Christmas miracle while we were gone and everything was fixed. I hooked everything back up with the same result. The phone didn't work and neither did the Internet. I thought I would do a little troubleshooting so I decided to try the connection in another jack. I took everything into the kitchen with me and attempted to hook it all up. This time however I was looking at the back of the modem instead of trying to look over top of it and upside down as I was before. As soon as I looked at it I knew what I had been doing wrong. I was plugging the phone line into the Ethernet plug instead of the phone plug. DUH!

I admitted my mistake to Joe and I took the teasing like a man. Then Joe says: "I was going to ask you if you had it hooked up in the right holes." "Why didn't you say something????" "I'm scared of you!" Bryan told me the other day that he was scared of me too. Really? What exactly is it? Why am I scary? I don't yell and scream. I can't even remember the last time I punched someone. (Honestly I've never punched anyone unless you count the time I got in a fight with Sally Batton when I was 12, and all I really did was pull her hair.) Maybe I'm not really scary, maybe it's just that you all see the potential for me to be scary and you don't want to go there. Is that it, you don't want to let Pandora out of the box?

How scary can I be, I'm willing to call myself a dumb ass. (Just don't you do it).

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas everyone! I'm writing on Bryan's computer because I am having internet issues again. This time It may be my phone line. Who knows!!!!! I called to report my issues to Verizon and as usual I got someone from out of the country. This guy was in Mexico City. While I waited for him to test the lines, he engaged me in conversation; asking me about my Christmas plans etc....we ended our call after he connected me with someone else. "Thank you for calling Verizon and have a Happy Easter"! Wait...what???? That pretty much illustrates the proficency with which complaints are handled. Hopefully my phone will be fixed by 2010.

I'm On A Roll

My crochet sales are blowing up! Not doing that great yet on ETSY, but in the last week Amanda has sold about 5 items from the display I have set up at Miracle In Motion. I'm gonna have to get moving and replenish my inventory. I guess I know what I'll be doing in Florida. At this rate Joe is gonna get to retire sooner than he thought.

One of the items that I recently sold on ETSY went to a lady in Hawaii. Some little girl is going to be running around Hawaii wearing a dress I made. How cool is that! Gotta go, my yarn is calling.

Squeaky Wheel

The saying about the squeeky wheel getting oiled must be true. I went to see Mom this evening and install the chair brace that I made. She was in the dining room, but I went to her room first. Lo and behold Someone had put velcro pads under each foot of the chair and wedged a board between the wall and the chair. It's a Christmas miracle! They actually listened. A few of the other items that I requested were taken care of as well. I will happily continue to assume the bitch role if that is what it takes to get things done.

I went to the dining room to visit with Mom for awhile. There was another daughter visiting her mother at Mom's table as well. We were having a nice visit and conversation until............one of the ladies at the table went off on a paranoid tangent. She started out by asking myself and the other daughter if we had been invited to be at the table. I giggled a little and told her that I was there visiting my mother. She glared at me and says: "what are you laughing about!?" She continued on by accusing us of stealing from her. She told Mom: "you better watch yourself". Luckily Mom is enough hearing impaired that she didn't know what was going on; although a couple of times during this womans disertation I heard Mom laugh. She then attempted to engage the 4th woman at the table in the conversation by asking her if she was involved in the conspiracy too. That poor woman was oblvious as well. She couldn't hear well either and she just responded by telling us why she wasn't eating. Then she started asking everyone if they had a car, because she wanted a ride home. I wanted to go home by that time too. Funny but sad. Just another typical day at the 'ol nursing home.

How Does One Qualify As A Moron?

Last week when I visited Mom, I found that her recliner chair was broken. I knew exactly what was wrong with it because it happened one time before. One or more of the morons that work at the nursing home reclined the chair when it was too close to the wall and instead of stopping when they hit the wall they just kept pressing the controls until it stripped the rod that attaches the chair to the motor. I am assuming they though that if they continued to use the motor it would push the chair away from the wall and then they wouldn't have to physically do any work to move the chair. Never mind the fact that after the first time they broke it and I had the chair repaired, I put a sign on the wall right behind the chair that instructs one to move the chair away from the wall before reclining. Maybe it was a different moron that broke it this time; who knows????

Needless to say I was a little hot under the collar about this situation along with a few other issues, so I went to the director of nursing and voiced my complaints in a fair and calm manner. I didn't even use the word moron in my presentation. I told the director that I could fix the chair myself; however, she assured me that their maintenance guy would fix it. I knew it was relatively easy to fix because I watched the repair guy from the chair company fix it the first time (In the back of my mind I must have known it was going to happen again).

One week later.....the chair is not repaired. No call from them to say that they couldn't fix it, it just wasn't done. I turned the chair upside down, fixed the son of a bitch and went on a mission. Too bad for the people working that day. Unfortunately it was a Saturday and the director wasn't working. I laid out my issues to pretty much everyone within ear shot. I wasn't yelling, but I was stating the facts fast and furious. It wasn't just about her broken chair, it was about them losing her wheel chair (saying they didn't know it was her personal chair). Look at her belonging sheet you fucking morons, it's listed right there. I didn't actually say that last statement, but it was on the tip of my tongue. It was about them not answering Mom's call light. It was also about the wound on Mom that they swore wasn't there over a week ago when she complained about it hurting. I should have looked for myself then, but I was trusting them. (FYI, the wound she has is not something that they caused directly. If it had been, this would be a whole nother story!) I have asked Mom if anyone ever mistreats her and she says "No".

Supposedly the nurse on duty is going to document my concerns and give them to the director on Monday. We shall see because I will be there on Monday, along with the wood frame I made to sit behind Mom's recliner. I made it to butt between the back of the chair and the wall enough distance so that it prevents the chair from being too close to the wall. It's moron proof.

I'm sure you've noticed I use the word moron a lot. I like that word, but I have my own definition. Moron: A person of normal intelligence and capable of using common sense who chooses not to use their intelligence or common sense because they are lazy or they just don't care about other people. Example: The guy on the You Tube video that puts a roman candle in his butt orifice and lights it. That is a prime example of a person not using their common sense; hence, he is a moron. His friends are morons as well because they didn't try to stop him. They obviously didn't care what happened to him. Addendum: examples of not using common sense must be more on the extreme end to qualify as moronic.