If H finds a burner on, the milk left out, the spoon in the knife drawer, or a dish that didn't get clean, he's compelled to show me, and tell me about it. It's not a punishment thing, it's more an assigning responsibility thing. I try not to resent it. In fact, I've brought him dirty spoons and the half-full filter pitcher and dishes shelved in the wrong cabinet... and it all just feels so petty. Fix it. And move on. Right?

I bring stuff like that up to DH because the alternative is waiting until the millionth tiny thing is one tiny thing too much and I wind up screaming WHY CAN'T YOU JUST WASH A FORK LIKE A NORMAL HUMAN BEING when really it's not his fault because he has no fucking clue I was mad about the forks not being clean in the first place. But that's just us.

Anyone want to explain why my printer keeps defaulting back to the printer in the wrong office? Shouldn't this be something I only have to reset once?

Also, and this is a serious question, the past few days my car has had frost on the inside front windshield. I can't figure out what I might be leaving open for moisture to be getting in. Any ideas? The heat/ac vent is definitely closed, so are the windows and sunroof.

Grrr. My shuttle to work filled up and left five minutes early this morning. Somehow, starting this fall, there have been a bunch of new people taking it, and I DO NOT APPRECIATE it. I hate when it's so crowded anyway, and this morning my options were wait a half-hour in Barnes & Noble (with no smartphone) or take a cab. We took a cab. Luckily, I had a friend to split it with, but @@@@@@@

Leaky seal somewhere.

I know my car has a leak. Where it is, I do not know. I've resigned myself to this fact.

Oh really?

You do understand I'm kidding, right? Right?

I am in what feels like a pain crisis all week. This is not fair. Everything hurts head to toe, fuckit.

If H finds a burner on, the milk left out, the spoon in the knife drawer, or a dish that didn't get clean, he's compelled to show me, and tell me about it. It's not a punishment thing, it's more an assigning responsibility thing. I try not to resent it. In fact, I've brought him dirty spoons and the half-full filter pitcher and dishes shelved in the wrong cabinet... and it all just feels so petty. Fix it. And move on. Right?

If someone did this to me- I would have to kill that person. But I can also understand Jessica's point, especially if it is always one person doing the cleanup. A long ago boyfriend used to try and use positive reinforcement to get me to clean and it seriously made me want to kill him. "Good job doing the dishes, Sophia!!!". "Good job putting away the laundrey!!!". Aaaargh. It made me feel like I was a child.

2 in a row, again-

HOMG, the woman temporarily working across the hall from me talks on the phone ALL DAY about her daughter's cheerleading team. The quiet was bothering me, but this is ridiculous.

Oh, yikes, ita. A pain crisis sounds wretched.

Noah has pissed me off. Therefore he's getting risotto and carrots for lunch instead of chicken nuggets.

A long ago boyfriend used to try and use positive reinforcement to get me to clean and it seriously made me want to kill him. "Good job doing the dishes, Sophia!!!". "Good job putting away the laundrey!!!". Aaaargh. It made me feel like I was a child.

Tim always thanks me for doing the dishes (or whatever chore I miraculously manage to rise above my slovenliness to do), after 4 years of living together. t edit Er, I mean, he's been doing it all along; I'm kind of amazed that he *still* thanks me, after 4 years. t /edit I think it's sweet, and I try to remember to thank him when he vacuums the house or picks up Kato poops in the backyard, etc.

But I think thanking is different from "Good job!"-ing. I think the cheerleading would get on my nerves, too.

Emmett just texted me that his train to school was delayed because some nimrod drove their SUV down into the Muni tunnel.

Which, according to JZ, is the second time that's happened in the last couple years.

Therefore he's getting risotto and carrots for lunch instead of chicken nuggets.

Hee. Only a little kid gets punished with risotto.