Great for me.  I had maintenance here to fix the toilet (not a euphemism), and when they left to go get a piece they didn't have, they locked the deadbolt AND the doorknob lock. He told me he would be "right back".  Now, we NEVER lock the doorknob lock.  So...the local florist showed up with flowers from my man, and when I went out to sign for them, I let the door shut behind me so the cat wouldn't get out.

Click.

I spent the next two hours in the hallway wondering when the hell the maintenance man would be back.  Our rental office opens at 11 AM, so I couldn't call until then.  I waited for my handyman to show back up...and finally I asked someone who was checking the mail what time it was.  11:20.  I knocked on a neighbor's door, and she gave me guff because she was in her pajamas (like I care).  She let me use her phone, though.  

So...I called, and they wanted to charge me $30 to get back in, even though maintenance was coming back.  I told them no. "It's my birthday, and this is ridiculous.  I wouldn't be locked out if he hadn't locked me in when he left.  I had no idea they even DID that."  So they decided they wouldn't charge me THIS TIME.  

Small graces.  And now my whole morning has been wasted, and I'm way behind plans today...so...yeah.  I'm gonna take some deep breaths (or a glass of wine or something)...and then I'm going to get started on this day and hope it stops sucking.

Out

Wednesday I had a dilemma.

It was Ash Wednesday, and I got the "From dust you have come, to dust you shall return" ashes--

(Oddly enough, Dust in the Wind by Kansas is playing right now!)

Afterward, I went to my gas station of choice--the local Shell--which is run by an Indian family.  The guy behind the counter said, "What is on your forehead?"  
"It's Ash Wednesday," I said.
"Ohhh.  Ash Wednesday!"
[pause]  
"What's Ash Wednesday?"
I laughed to myself and explained that Ash Wednesday is the day that starts the 40 day period known as Lent, a time of reflection and mourning that ends with Easter.
He looks at me and goes, "Oh."
[pause]
I could tell he didn't really understand, but he didn't want to ask any more questions.

 I didn't want to say, "It's a Christian thing" because I was afraid I would sound like I was saying, "You're not Christian, you wouldn't understand."  I just said, "It's kind of a Lutheran thing..." which isn't really all that true.  

He just said, "Have a good day."

I still don't think he understood, but I was amused that he asked.  

Anywho...it got me thinking.  Why was I afraid to say it was a Christian thing?  Are we so afraid of offending someone that we don't even want to talk about what we know?  And I'm not talking about Christians.  I mean everyone, people in general.  Is it just me?  Am I just so scared of making someone feel stupid or left out or marginalized that I don't want to tell them what I know or compliment them?

Like at work--

I always appreciate when a customer's deposits are correct.  And after a while, I like to tell them that.  Except, last week I went to say it and stopped.  Why?  Asian.  And before that?  Jew.

Why am I so scared of someone thinking I'm stereotyping them?  

Blargh.  Welcome to my brain.  

Out

I think maybe this day should be Blarglentine's Day, officially.  It's the day when you go, "Blarg...what do I do for my Valentine?" or maybe even, "Blarg...where will I find a Valentine?" or perhaps just, "Blarg..."

Any way you slice it, tons of drama this time of year.  Thank God none of it is mine currently.  Hooray for that!  

So, I joined an eight week writing group this week.  It should be a god time!  It certainly will help me with my "create something every day" resolution!  They already booted one member, because he was being a dick face.  e hadn't even started, and he was already posting about how he wanted this to be a serious group, no prompts like "find the third word in the third line and blah blah blah..." and no bad attempt at poetry, no crappy pieces...he wanted to read REAL WRITING!  Whatever.  Dick face.  I'm just glad I'm not the only one who felt like he was being a gigantic tool.  And now we don't have to work with him.  Thank God.  

The sad thing is, he used to be a nice guy, a good guy, someone who seemed to me to be compassionate and caring, a creative type with a lot going on for him.  And through my time in the past working with him, I realized that he's not really that at all.  He's an arrogant asshole who is only concerned with looking better than everyone else.  Unfortunately, he just ends up looking like a gigantic assface.

Ask me how I really feel.

Anywho...back to the issue at hand:  Blarglentine's Day.  I actually have a plan this year.  I'm going to see the boy at work.  We'll go out for lunch.  I'll take the train in.  ADVENTURE TIME!  But...first I have to go to work today and survive the Monday mash.  That's where I get so frustrated I mash my face into my keyboard at work.  It's pretty cathartic.  Maybe not sanitary, though.

Ramble ramble.

Have a great day.

Out