![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
- Wed, 17:01: today's basket http://t.co/NS6qs6o7pS http://t.co/0zmNwouUuS
- Wed, 20:31: Dear advertisers, All of my devices have front facing cameras - it's very easy for you to see that sending me uns... http://t.co/WdBSeW45TQ
- Wed, 21:21: Bear and a square http://t.co/RNTaPT8TJT http://t.co/SrZ3LCvt3V
Aug. 7th, 2014
Arugh August
Aug. 7th, 2014 08:53 amThrow back Thursday is a social media thing where you find an old photo and post it. I don't have an old photo. I have an old feeling. That August feeling.
I was a horrible student. I hated school. I didn't like elementary school much but once I got past that, my feelings turned really negative. I liked geometry and I liked diagramming sentences. I was good at both. I was not good at anything else and hated it all, too. (Thinking back, I must have had some kind of ruler fetish.)
Every August was filled to overflowing with doom. It was time to go back to torture. Even the golden lure of fresh school supplies did not help. I knew, before the month was out, that I'd be back, chained to the land where my shortcomings would be highlighted once again every hour of every day.
I tried to start every August with an attitude adjustment. I'd think positive thoughts. I'd vow to turn over new leaves. I'd be a new me. But, in the unrelenting heat of the end of Summer, I'd know, by the end of the first day, that this year was going to be as bad or worse than last year.
The torture ended when I graduated from college in 1971. There have been a lot of Augusts since then and every one has been tainted by school dread. Usually, added to that was also baseball failure. In the early years - way before they finally saw success - it was the Atlanta Braves. For the past 20 years, it's been the Mariners. And the heat. Sweltering August.
The only bright spot was the aforementioned school supplies. I loved them. All. My mother allowed me to procure about 10% of the school supplies I wanted. I was allowed to pick a new 3 ring binder, a new notebook or two and maybe one other small treat. I drove her CRAZY shopping and deciding. Long after I was out of school, in fact up until the past year or so, I've made a point, in August, of shopping for school supplies. Wandering through the bins and knowing that now, I could by any or all of it I wanted.
This year, I have been in a couple of places with school supplies on sale and while they are pretty and cute and some clever, I have no need for any of it. I have pens in this house which will dry up before I ever use them. I have more post it note pads than I will ever use. I have notebooks of all kinds that - since I take and keep notes online - whose pages will remain empty as they yellow.
Ahhhh August. I am your bitch.
Except, ha! This year the Mariners have tricked you. A little. Maybe.
I was a horrible student. I hated school. I didn't like elementary school much but once I got past that, my feelings turned really negative. I liked geometry and I liked diagramming sentences. I was good at both. I was not good at anything else and hated it all, too. (Thinking back, I must have had some kind of ruler fetish.)
Every August was filled to overflowing with doom. It was time to go back to torture. Even the golden lure of fresh school supplies did not help. I knew, before the month was out, that I'd be back, chained to the land where my shortcomings would be highlighted once again every hour of every day.
I tried to start every August with an attitude adjustment. I'd think positive thoughts. I'd vow to turn over new leaves. I'd be a new me. But, in the unrelenting heat of the end of Summer, I'd know, by the end of the first day, that this year was going to be as bad or worse than last year.
The torture ended when I graduated from college in 1971. There have been a lot of Augusts since then and every one has been tainted by school dread. Usually, added to that was also baseball failure. In the early years - way before they finally saw success - it was the Atlanta Braves. For the past 20 years, it's been the Mariners. And the heat. Sweltering August.
The only bright spot was the aforementioned school supplies. I loved them. All. My mother allowed me to procure about 10% of the school supplies I wanted. I was allowed to pick a new 3 ring binder, a new notebook or two and maybe one other small treat. I drove her CRAZY shopping and deciding. Long after I was out of school, in fact up until the past year or so, I've made a point, in August, of shopping for school supplies. Wandering through the bins and knowing that now, I could by any or all of it I wanted.
This year, I have been in a couple of places with school supplies on sale and while they are pretty and cute and some clever, I have no need for any of it. I have pens in this house which will dry up before I ever use them. I have more post it note pads than I will ever use. I have notebooks of all kinds that - since I take and keep notes online - whose pages will remain empty as they yellow.
Ahhhh August. I am your bitch.
Except, ha! This year the Mariners have tricked you. A little. Maybe.
I have one inhaler that is to be used 'as needed'. It has no counter on it. It's only good for 200 squirts. After 200 squirts, there is no way to tell it is empty. I strapped on a stitch/row counter to keep track. So freakin' clever!!
I have several of these - one in purse, one by bed, one in glove compartment... each has a stitch counter. The first one is now getting to 100. The stitch counter only goes to 100. What to do? My first thought was to put the stitch counter on upside down for the 2nd 100.
And then, today, I got the forehead slapping answer. Each time I used it, it's for two doses. Not one, but two. So why in the hell do I need to advance the counter two spaces? I do not. So 2 sucks=1 counter count. 100= inhaler done.
It's the little things that trip me up.
I have several of these - one in purse, one by bed, one in glove compartment... each has a stitch counter. The first one is now getting to 100. The stitch counter only goes to 100. What to do? My first thought was to put the stitch counter on upside down for the 2nd 100.
And then, today, I got the forehead slapping answer. Each time I used it, it's for two doses. Not one, but two. So why in the hell do I need to advance the counter two spaces? I do not. So 2 sucks=1 counter count. 100= inhaler done.
It's the little things that trip me up.