::booming dooming voice:::
Environmental Protection Agency Toxic Release Inventory Reporting.
You sit there copying papers, eyes blurring over spreadsheet after spreadsheet, while outside, the weather is glorious and your garden is growing without you there to watch over it, and your dogs are locked inside the house-cave instead of digging for critters, and the doofy-looking pin-head band-tail pigeons are flocking your house and eating up all the seed without you there to listen to their sweet cooing
ARGH! It made me so grumpy that at the sushi place, I once again snapped at someone who actually got up and moved to another seat. In my defense, she was the most obnoxious thing in the world. She was this youngish woman of some undetermined nationality (I speak four languages and studied linguistics and I could not recognize the language she was speaking...) yammering away unceasingly in a blend of English and Whatever-that-language-was, on and on and on, in a very loud, extremely nasal Fran-Drescher-like voice. I wanted to shoot her. If I were carrying a 9mm, I probably would have. She sat right next to me and was bli-de-blahing me into commiting homocide. Finally I said: "Excuse me, but are we *all* forced to spend our precious lunch hour partaking in the details of your uninteresting life? Really?" The people around me looked both embarrassed and then relieved when she got up and asked to be moved. I felt sorry for the folks on the other end of the bar though, because it was only seconds before she was back at it. I could see the shoulders of one woman sag and her eyes roll into the back of her head; luckily for us over in the evil section, the nasal voice was largely drowned out by the general noise of the place now that cell-girl was at a good distance.
I really think that people should be tested for the following in order to qualify for cell phone ownership:
1) A tolerable voice
2) A brain
3) Some measure of common consideration for others
4) And if anything, a life replete with stories of adventure and slapstick that if forced upon others, are at least interesting or entertaining.
5) Oh, and the ability to walk and chew gum.
I'm so intolerant lately. What's my deal?
I'll just bask in this image of quiet Regency family bliss for a while, and pretend there's no such thing as cell phones. ~There's No Place Like The Past... There's No Place like the Past.. ::click click:: Damn. Still here.
I suppose I can at least find comfort in the entertainment I derived from the sight of a 60ish-year-old woman with long curly grey hair wearing black go-go boots, a floral micro-mini and a hot pink T-shirt adorned with bedazzle beads and strategic slits in the top to reveal little parts of a wrinkly, leathery cleavage. She was also at the Sushi place today. She was from Vegas from what I overheard (which probably explains the fashion 'je-ne-sais-rien'), and was most annoyed by chatty Kvatrinka too; she offered me a gap-toothed smile of gratitude for sending cell-girl packing. ::sigh:: I suppose life has it's balance sometimes.
Oh, and PS.....
Mr. Prius Highbottom and I are in love. It's official. 48.9 mpg average for my trip in today--and the battery charged itself up to the tippy-top too on my Sushi jaunt. ::swoons::.