Category: whining and complaining (Page 5 of 12)

You may have forgotten that it’s the season of Lent right now, and that I’ve given up sugar for this time. I don’t know HOW you could have forgotten, but I have been trying to not be totally whiny about it, and if you aren’t doing Lent, then you might not think about it. Well, it’s still on. Until Easter, which is still a ways away. But I am hanging in there and doing very well. I haven’t had any break downs where I’ve shoved cookies into my mouth. I did make myself some sugar free lemon cookies a while back, and I ate “a few” of those that day, but since then, they have stayed in the freezer, waiting patiently for me to eat them.

But, since I don’t want all this suffering and pain to be for naught, I am also really trying to eat well and cut down on the carbs as well, so I can lose some weight. And exercise. Yeah, that too, although I will admit that’s not my main focus right now. I’m NOT PERFECT, folks. And I’m not on a tv show competing for lots of money, either, so I’m doing what I can do.

Well, since I have already taken ALL the joy out of life, why don’t we just cut back on the diet coke consumption while we’re at it. See if we can take Paige ALL the way to the edge of sanity and PUSH her over, shall we? I know my mom would be happier if I gave up the sweet sweet beverage that is diet coke all together, but I don’t know if we’re going to go there. It’s not like I’m drinking a 44 ouncer from Harts or Kountry Korner every day, but I do usually have ONE can of diet coke with lunch. Or, if I go out to lunch or dinner with friends, I will sometimes order a diet coke. But I will admit that diet coke makes me happy, and the thought of a life without diet coke makes me sad. Even that “Ptchssshhh” sound of opening a can of diet coke brings a smile to my face.
Does that make me an addict? I don’t know.
It’s like I’m at a meeting. My name is Paige and it’s been three days since my last drink. And then we sit around and drink coffee and eat donuts. Except that I don’t drink coffee and I can’t eat donuts!

And so I’m grumpy. OH SO GRUMPY. We went out to dinner on Monday for Megan and Cole’s birthdays, and went to Texas Roadhouse. And (here’s the part where you need to be proud of me) I didn’t have a single roll. Not one. Can you believe it? I ordered a grilled chicken salad and ate it while looking longingly at the kids’ fries and sticky ribs and chicken fried chicken. Should have ordered the steak and a sweet potato, but I ate my salad. Come on! Who orders a salad at Texas Roadhouse? Stupid people, that’s who! And water. I drank water. It was a fun dinner out with the family, but I came home and felt all sorry for myself. And to avoid grumping at my kids, I hid in my room and devoured…. a book. You thought I was going to say I had some secret stash of reeses peanut butter cups hidden in my bedroom and I went in and secretly ate it, didn’t you? No. I was good, and I read a book. Thankfully, the scale moved a little bit in the downward direction the next morning, or I probably would have just THROWN all the good intentions out the window and snarfed a cupcake for breakfast. I still might. You don’t know.

Some friends have invited me to lunch today, and I’m still debating. The place they want to go has really good salads, and I would probably enjoy being with friends. But would I again feel sorry for myself because other people might be ordering cookies and brownies and great sandwiches? Maybe I’ll treat myself to a diet coke. Just one.

Car Registration. Can we just all give a shout of frustration here? Our cars also need to be registered during November and December, which is RIGHT when you really really want to go out and spend money on your cars, right? And just what you want for Christmas is….a new windshied, right? Or better yet, TWO NEW WINDSHIELDS! (insert transylvanian accent laughing, here)

Our Suburban has been running rough lately, and the check engine light keeps coming on and then it will go off for a day, then it will come back on. We’ve tried some engine cleaners and other stuff, but it wasn’t getting better, so we took it into our local mechanics to see what the problem was. Hopefully it’s just something easy like spark plugs. Crossing finger, crossing fingers. Ryan wanted to drop it off in the am, which put me VERY close to being late for my 9:30 appointment, but I made it by the skin of my teeth.

At about 2, I wondered if the car was ready. Because I was scheduled to pick up 7 squirrely junior high kids in about 45 minutes. Ryan made the call to see if it was done, and came back to break the bad news that A-the car was NOT ready, and B- it wasn’t something simple like a spark plug. It was something involving the engine and some kind of seal on the engine that was letting in too much air, blah, blah, blah….$500.

Oh, goody.

But it is done. The car runs great, but it’s still not inspected. Before we do that we need to get a new windshield (big old crack running through it right now) and then we can start the process over NEXT month for the truck.

Joy, Joy, Joy.

ARRRRGH.

We have about 20 junior high kids in our neighborhood, and no bus to take them the 1.6 miles to school. Somehow I got put in charge of organizing carpool groups. Why did I get that job? I don’t know, but I’m NOT doing it again. So I checked in with people to see if they wanted to join up with a big carpool, or maybe they don’t have enough seats and want to stick with a small carpool, or no carpool all at. We had 6 kids/5 drivers, which was perfect, and when I went to talk to one of the moms, she said, “I’m not doing carpools this year. My son/daughter can just ride his/her bike. I’m not going to be driving any carpools this year.”

Uh, what? Well, that screws up my carpool schedule, and…really? I know what’s going to happen. Your poor kid is going to be out there in the rain/snow/wind/cold, and we are going to feel sorry for him/her and pick him/her up and squish him/her into our carpool, so you’ll get rides for him/her without ever offering to drive. I just KNOW it.

Anyway, this carpool has been difficult. Certain people can only drive in the mornings, We have to rotate through Fridays but some people just CAN’T do that, so some people will be driving more than others, etc. And we’ve changed our assignments so much I can hardly keep it straight. I had to call a friend and say, “Am I picking up the kids today or was it you?”

Then–(and here’s the venting part)–Mrs I don’t want to carpool called me this morning and asked who was driving and if her son/daughter could join in and could she take a day, etc, etc? I know I should jump at the chance to have another driver, but I honestly don’t know if one of our drivers can fit 7 kids in her car, and can we really add one more kid, etc, etc.

I know there are bigger problems in the world than my carpool issues, but I’m just kind of tired of it. The mean snarky side of me wants to say, “Oh, sorry. You didn’t want to join our carpool, and we’re all full.” But did I say that? No, of course not. Because I’m a wimp. And I want people to all just get along. Even if it’s irritating.

So, I’ll spend an hour on the phone with everyone, trying to work this out. Yes, I will.

Arghh.

I went to Wal-Mart for a QUICK trip. We needed composition notebooks, a flashdrive and peppercorns. And by “WE”, I mean mostly the kids. You know, those back to school items that you don’t think you need until you get the note from the teacher. But since those items are spread throughout the store, I ended up with a few other items, too. Funny how many people had the same idea. The school supplies isle was bustling with activity.

25 minutes later I was checking out. I looked in my purse for my wallet and found none. Where the heck is my wallet? No problem, I can still write a check, since my checkbook floats around in my purse independent of my little wallet. No, wait, I had my checkbook out writing checks for school lunch, and it’s not in here, either. CRAP. I have honestly never been in this situation before. But I’m sure other people at Wal-Mart have. They must have a procedure for this, right?

“I’m so sorry, I don’t have my wallet,” I said to the sweet little cashier. She continued ringing me up while I SEARCHED my purse in earnest. Nope. Can’t find it. She called the customer service representative over, and he says, “No problem, we’ll just ‘suspend’ the transaction.” He does something that saves it in the computer and gives me a little tiny receipt. Meanwhile, I’m digging out my phone.

“Ryan, I’m at Wal-Mart and I don’t have my wallet. Can you run down here and rescue me?” I asked.
Grumbling just a little bit, he says he will. He asks which entrance which door I’ll be at, and I told him I was inside by the checkers. I called him back a minute later after I had parked my cart to pay later and told him I was outside waiting for him. “I just barely got out on the highway. I’ll be there in 10 minutes,” he said.
“Ten minutes?” I said, “You won’t be NEARLY 10 minutes.” The Wal-Mart is just down the street, right by the high school. It’s seriously less than 2 miles from our house.

I sat down outside and watched the shoppers coming and going. There’s the dad saying to his daughter, “Now it’s just the 1 inch 3 ring binder, right?”, and the mom with three little kids in tow saying, “Keep up with me…don’t you hit your sister.” It’s a pleasant night, now that the sun has gone down and it’s not 98 degrees anymore.

But where the heck IS HE? It’s been almost 10 minutes since I called him. I called him back. “Where ARE you?” I asked. “I just got through the roundabout. Which door are you at?” he said. “Roudabout?” I was trying to figure out why he’d be at the roundabout. “You do realize that there’s a Wal-Mart just down the street from our house, don’t you?” How long has it been open? Over a year, now.
“Oh, Crap,” he said. He has gone to the Wal-Mart in American Fork, which really IS 10 to 15 minutes away from our house. No, I didn’t specify which store I had gone to, but why in heaven’s name would I travel to the world’s most crowded Wal-Mart when we have our own smaller, less crowded, more friendly store 5 minutes away? WhY? “I’m having a really hard time finding things lately,” he said.
“I’ll just go home and find my wallet or checkbook and come back. You can just go home.” I said.
But he was already out and driving around, he said he would just come and that I should wait for him.

So I waited. Fifteen minutes is a long time when you are sitting outside the store feeling like a stalker. Feeling stupid. I tried to do some more people watching and not feel quite as much like the idiot that I am, leaving my wallet….where IS my wallet? I got out my phone and made a few calls, just to chat and kill the time, but no one answered. At 9:00, he finally pulled up. I grabbed his wallet and went in the store, hoping that I could use HIS credit card and get away with it.

I went back in, went to the same checker. Since she didn’t have huge line and she knew the situation, I was there to make her life MORE difficult. She couldn’t figure out what to do, so she called the same guy who had helped her before. He couldn’t make it work. The little receipt they had given me wasn’t scanning, and they couldn’t make it bring back the earlier transaction. I thought about just grabbing my cart and making a dash for it, but that wouldn’t be right. And I had already waited half an hour, so what’s a few more minutes, right? Now I’ve got 2 Wal-Mart employees befuddled and confused. Why isn’t this working. People come to the line and the checker waves them away to other lines, since she’s got a “problem customer” here (my words, not hers. She was actually quite nice, despite the frustration of the situation).

Finally, the guy figured out what to do. I swiped Ryan’s card, signed his name, paid, and left. My quick trip to WalMart ended up over an hour and 15 minutes. The good thing, though, was that the kids were all in bed by the time I got home. *Sigh* I returned Ryan’s wallet to him after I located mine. It was in my big old coupon purse that I had taken grocery shopping the day before. Duh. I’d driven without a license for a day and a half (oops) and didn’t even notice I didn’t have it.

So that’s it. That’s how you befuddle and frustrate the Wal-Mart cashier, and it proves I’m an idiot and my husband is directionally challenged.