Mental Arithmetic

I still have a list of things I want to get done today, and the end of today is looming - but you know that magnet that draws you to the keyboard to blog a gripe?

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Young people today, hey?

ha ha - I am immediately transported back about (ahem) twenty years and shaking my head at my elders when they made such pronouncements.

But really? They had nothing to gripe about compared to some of the youth I have encountered today.

It is of course the week before (Red Wednesday, that is) and so I am inclined to be more gripey and less accomodating, but seriously?

It is the child's birthday on Monday, and therefore we got to fit a little more retail into our Saturday than usual, so I am prepared to lay my intolerance on either over-exposure to teenage checkout operators or just being over it.

But having a 16 year old tell me (in words of two syllable or less) that I was old to consider that she should be able to mentally subtract one figure from another - it sort of rubbed me up the wrong way.

And for that to happen not once, not twice, but thrice?

Tell me, am I entering the fuddy-duddy zone?

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I was in Capital Letter-Mart, having just bought up on birthday clobber for the girl (and mentally subtracting my 25% as I was going along so I could, you know, buy to my budget), the girl gave me her total.

I handed over my card and told her to give me the change from $170, as I had the groceries yet to do and I like my bank not to charge me for every transaction.

The girl gave me a pained, silent expression.

"Um..." she sort of gulped. You see, her register obviously didn't have any sort of shortcut on working that out for her.

"You subtract that figure on your register from the $170," I helpfully advised her.

She gulped again, and her hand hovered on the "help from a manager" button.

We had a standoff for what seemed an eternity.

"My change will be $123.05" I finally gave her the answer.

"Thanks." she said, and regarded me like I had an extra head suddenly spring up.

"I used to always work out the change in my head for fun when I was your age," I explained to her for my amazing mental agility.

"Oh," she said, relieved. "We have calculators these days."

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Now, I would overlook this as a bit of a blip, except that it (the mental arithmetic, not the breathtaking rudeness) happened twice more during the day.

I know not everyone had my mother, and therefore not everyone gets sums fired at them at the kitchen table.

But surely it is something we should ALL learn before we hit the cash register - how much you will be expected to pay and how much you expect to get back.

I am known (and subsequently avoided) at tuckshop for making the children add and subtract their transactions, and I hope to goodness that I save at least one or two from being ripped off witless.

But am I an OTT fuddy-duddy here, or are you on my side?

Thank Goodness We Won Lotto Yesterday!

Yesterday was the Wednesday before... If you know me or have read me for a while, you will note a cycle of events, and we hit the woetime when it is the Wednesday before.

I woke up late. 6.15am is late when you enjoy the timelessness of 5.30am.

V has been unwell all week. On Monday I was all consideration and sweetness. On Tuesday I treated him with cotton-wool gloves. These came off on Wednesday.

I know its not his fault he is unwell - but it was a catalyst for an internal conversation screaming match I held when I escaped with 'Salina on our bike ride.

One good thing about the irrational rage and unappeased anger swells I have on such days is that I can recognise them and try to stuff them away or stop them from spilling out into the real world (too much).

It is about the only good thing - although my sister-outlaw on the Croatian side once said it most perfectly in a hormone-charged conversation she had with her partner (that we got to be witness to) "its at this time of month, mate, that I don't placate you and tell you how it REALLY is".

Sister-outlaw's partner is originally from Zimbabwe and had 9 sisters, a mother and a grandmother who all cycled together. His grandfather taught him quite young to run for the hills when the moon was in a certain phase. Unfortunately sister-outlaw hunted him down.

As I said to a client yesterday, one thing to be said for partners and spouses is it gives you something to focus on.

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Anyhow - I am over that now, and had talked myself into being over that by the time we got to the post office.

'Salina asked if we could buy something special from the Bakery. Okay, so maybe I wasn't so much over it as scanning the world for a new focus for the rage, and so she got a more vehement explanation as to why we couldn't do that at this point in time that had more to do with financial crisis and priorities than was necessary to emphasise, no doubt.

It did put me in mind, however, to get a treat for V because he had been the unwitting recipient of my inner dialogue earlier and because I like to make up for my bitchiness in cheap thrills.

So I lashed out and got him TWO newspapers.

While getting the coins from my purse, I noticed a couple of lotto tickets I hadn't checked.

Over here, you can be a registered lotto cardholder, which by rights means if you throw your winning ticket out you can still claim - and in fact, I believe they will even tell you if you have won the big bucks (correct me if I am wrong).

I know that the odds of winning lotto are less than being kicked to death by a donkey, but I also know the only way to guarantee you WON'T win is to not have a ticket.

Sort of like the only way NOT to get kicked to death by a donkey is to stay away from their rear end.

We are registered cardholders, but we have never received the call. I don't know if the above is an urban myth or not, so I hoard all of our tickets and every so often find them all in one place and get the poor newsagency girl to check them all for me to make sure.

Yesterday, our luck changed. WE WON!!!!

Okay, it was only $18.90 - not a bad return for the $660 investment over the last two years, hey?

Still, it bought a bakery item for 'Salina and a small settling of the mind for me.

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Of course, on our cycle this morning, 'Salina noticed a lotto where you could win $10 million tonight - which would definitely come in handy.

I explained to her there are chances to win millions almost every night these days, and we have to limit ourselves to chosing only one night to focus our attention on, as it could be a bit expensive to try our luck on all.

But, to quote an old friend of mine, when asked to explain his ability to be anti-gambling AND buying lotto tickets "Its not gambling. Its my ONLY chance."

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Edited to add: Moreena at Falling Down Is Also a Gift has just advised that Annika has just received a new liver.

I would gladly hand over all of my ill-gotten lotto wins for Annika and Deb (and anyone else going through tough stuff at the moment) to enjoy many years of healthy living!

The Ten Minute Timer

My daughter epitomises the saying "the apple doesn't fall far from the tree". Unfortunately I am the tree she fell closest to.

She is messy, easily distracted, has a temper and can pout for Australia. Hello mirror.

Today has not been a joyous day. I awoke from a nightmare. It was the night before the wedding, I was at dinner with family and the clothes were in the machine and we had to travel 4 hours to a city starting with C (in New Zealand, for goodness sake) and we hadn't booked a hotel to stay at, a celebrant, sent any invites or got wedding rings. As the washing cycle was still not over, I suddenly hit panic.

Great way to wake up. So I stumbled out to the living room and decided to make English muffins - because isn't that what you do then? Yeah, right.

As I was banging about in the kitchen, suddenly it became apparent that the reason that I was so grumpy was it is the lead up to Red Wednesday, and its never a happy place to be, in my zone. Of course, if I had invested in some Evening Primrose Oil as someone suggested when I moaned about it in the past, may not be an issue.

Knowledge isn't control, however, and as much as I know I am easily irritated and should handle every situation delicately it doesn't stop the universe (and by extension, my loved ones) from just poking that little bit harder to watch the reaction.

So, no Evening Primrose Oil preparation and my daughter pushed one too many of my buttons without realising so I rode her about some scissors situation or other and she exploded and disappeared into her room with a bit of a dramatic flourish.

We sorted that out, but it has been the tone of the day. Considering her best friend is having a birthday party at 2.30 and I have the keys to the car, she is having to learn a few lessons that were as painful for me at that age as they are to her.

So currently we are using the 10 minute timer technique. Its amazing how much good can be achieved in 10 minutes - I got this blog written, she got her room cleaned and the world is a MUCH BETTER place.

Today has been going on for soooo long

and we still have a chunk of time yet to reach 9am.

I awoke I know not when or why, but it was dark and cold and obviously very, very early. Threads of my dreams immediately coagulated into blog ideas.

As I was sifting through them in an attempt to find that elusive trail that leads back to the other side to resume dreaming, my bladder kicked in and advised me that there were better places to be.

Sure - better places to be than in my nice warm bed with my darling right beside me snoring sleeping soundly? A small battle of wills took place, but as usual, bladder won.

Now, generally I sleep like a log - crash when I go down right through to when I get up.

However, if that continuous loglike-behaviour is disturbed in any way I have a tendency to not be able to go back to sleep for ages. Like ages and ages. Like unless I don't need to get up for a few good hours, it is best that I don't even try to go down again.

Of course, given the cold snap and the warm delights my bed offered and the fact that the clock said 3.45am, I forgot this and did give it a shot.

I snuggled down and cuddled up to my sweetie - who grunted and rolled to the extremity of the bed.

I tried to think all sorts of dreamy thoughts - but blog posts kept jumping up at me and getting written in my head. Far superior posts than this one. Ones about genealogy and genetic predispositions and poetry and power dynamics in family structures and technological influences and textbooks and school teachers and torment and - just about any topic my mind skipped across became a mind blowing blog.

Of course, all this took place in my bed, not in front of the computer - the results speak for themselves really - so I moved my mind on to more logical things. Things like food and housework and work and money and budgeting and oh my, there is no cold meat for sandwiches and what do I need to buy for dinner tonight.

The minutes trudged along, and so several hours later at 4.23am I got up to do rather than lie there and ponder.

I thought I would be kind to my darling V, so rather than my habitual click on the computer as I rose I thought I would tackle housework at the other end of the house. Aren't I nice?

I cleaned the kitchen and found a recipe for corned beef fritters, as we had left-over corned beef (and vegetables - I have a habit of hiding vegetables in everything) and my daughter had loved SSB's last time we visited Granite Glen and I needed to have something to put in her school lunchbox.

I was chipper. The radio was (quietly) playing really woeful country music (not because I am a fan, but because the station I listen to for the news plays really woeful country music at ungodly hours), I was putting together a treat for my family and my to-do list was awesomely structured in my head.

And then? Well, then my darling sweet V came into the kitchen and pissed me right off managed to upset my equilibrium.

How can you do so with one so buoyant at 5.27am, you ask?

Step 1. Greet your beloved with the words "Hello alarm clock". Ensure that the tone you chose is one that indicates you have not entered the waking world happily and intend that feeling to radiate.

Step 2. Do not offer a kiss, a hug or even a meeting of eyes - instead shield them and say "F*$& its bright in here".

Step 3. And really, this is the most important step. Do the above WITHOUT CONSULTING THE CALENDAR. Or do so. Which ever. But any other week the response might be "oh I am sorry, light of my life" with a bit of understanding. This week - well, let me just say a little time out was called for before I got around to apologising for trying to be quiet and industrious while my family enjoyed their kip (oh, and subsequently also apologising for turning into a banshee and storming out of his vicinity, flicking off the light switch and swearing profusely - or something).

Hey look at that - its still before 9 - time to generate that awesome To-Do list and start ticking. Just don't be ticking me off. Its not advised. Consider this a mental health warning for all of us.

Oh, and in case you are worried - V still has all body parts intact, including his love and understanding for me, crazy hormones and all. Well, at least I think he does.

Hmm, I had best go downstairs and see if his fishing gear is still here.

Lessons in Life - Don't Jest with the Universe

because man, that universe can smite!

Where was I? Oh yes, being all smug and stuff about my organisational talents.

Then I left the building.

The first part of my day was not so bad. I went to the shops. I called my parents who were to meet me. I spoke to the answering machine on BOTH their mobile phones. This is not so unusual - they come from an area with no mobile coverage, and have a bad habit of forgetting to turn it on when they come to civilisation. My mother also has a habit of switching it off when she doesn't feel it necessary i.e. when she is not making the call.

While waiting at the queue at the ATM, I bumped into my father. There was another REALLY good reason for me getting the mobile phone answering machines - they had forgotten BOTH of them. Close universe, but it was not my organisational skills in question on that one!

Then I had to go to the library. I cannot blame yesterday's trip to the library on the Universe's current gripe - obviously I have a habit of upsetting the Universe.

Many moons ago, I took out some books. I have to admit that I lost one - to compound my crime, I failed to return the rest while I was looking for it.

It appears that the library would not only like me to pay for the book that I lost (fair enough - I would too) and the GST for them repurchasing it (cheers) but also for the overdue fines on the books I failed to return in a timely fashion. I know, they do that but really, couldn't they have a "cringe override", realise that people do these stupid things and just turn a blind eye? No? You are much harsher than I.

Do you know what the really hysterical thing about the lost book is? Its title and subject matter. The book that I lost is (drumroll please) "The Idiot's Guide to the Perfect Wedding". I shall pause a moment for you all to regain composure.

So, not only did I not read and glean the secrets of the said book (shut up Universe, I can still hear you laughing), but our wedding has already us $37.95 (plus $15 overdue fees - which count towards costs, I think).

Oh, and to screw its heel into the butt of my library experience - they don't have EFTPOS so although I was organised enough to have the spare dosh in my account, I could not use it so I have to go back there another day for the overdue fees to be released and receive my free book fix once again.

I was going to go and give blood at the blood bank, but as they didn't open for several more hours and as I actually had things to do at home, they missed out on some quality O negative. Take that, Universe.

I got home and was recounting this to V. Have I told you about V's sense of humour? It is on par with that shown by the Universe yesterday. He mentioned that he would have to lay rocks for an extra hour and a half for my forgetfulness (I am sure in jest) but he forgot - Universal Smite can work both for and against.

I was very sweet in mentioning that this was not the week in which to jest about contributions to the household, so to increase his hilarity factor he continued to draw great big squiggly targets on himself with every comment he made for the next 20 minutes.

Unfortunately, I was unable to defend myself when I realised that during my run around that day, I had failed to return the overnight DVD we had taken out on Sunday - another $6.60 pissed into the wind he will have to earn for my affection.

The good news is that dinner was beautiful! Zucchini slice with steamed beans and left-over spaghetti - mm-mmmmm. And the taco dinner tonight will be brought to us by V, as he has to take 'Salina shopping for a surprise for me and I have a P&C meeting. Come on Universe - I think it's showtime!

It could get worse

Thank you all for your feedback to my last post. It is nice to know (especially at this time of the month) that I should be appreciated for sending danger signals!

And as I wandered across the internet yesterday, I found I was in good company - Queen of Shake Shake was showing how to put the condition to good use.

V despairs of the future, as he feels that he will be entering the gates of hell when 'Salina is old enough to allow hormones to dictate how shirty she gets.

I soothed him as best I could. "It won't go on forever."

"Yeah, I suppose so. One day you will stop."

"Yep." I smiled - "one day I won't have a hormone cycle to do this and I can be grouchy at any time - sort of like a man."

The Nuances of Sorry

Over here, we are having a bumper brew of PMT - some months we have barely an hour of it upsetting our equilibrium, others we can have 8 days of eggshell walking.

I woke up very cranky for no good reason and I knew it - I had barely opened my eyes when my nasty side started in on me, berating me for so much I had to leave the bed to escape - and walked in to the living room where my happy family were. Ha! I gave them fair warning and sought a spot where I could affect no-one.

I even turned to grapefruit - my miracle fruit - which went very well - first mouthful perked me up - but the rest of it tasted musty. Then I had muesli - it tasted musty also. Darn - first my senses of humour and optimism, then my sense of taste. Things were not going well.

I tried so hard not to allow this drift down over us and affect us all, but there are moments when the nasty mood just catches up and trips you over.

I applied myself to household duties - always a good thing to attempt, as at least something gets done! V - darling sweet V - tiptoed in to the kitchen very carefully.

"I am sorry for being in such a shirty mood" I said. His look was very wary.

"You shouldn't apologise unless you are doing something wrong". Wow - wrong f***ing response, John Howard!

In my nicest words I explained that it was more a "sorry that he is going through" rather than a "sorry I am doing this" and there are many shades of the term. I am not sure he heard me, what with his armour raised like that.

However, we have survived to the other end of the day. Only 6 more days to go until the P is removed from the mood - something we are ALL looking forward to.

And yes, there are days when I think that I should do something about those Evening Primrose Oil pills my mother keeps pushing...