Ancrene Wiseass

A would-be medievalist holds forth on academia, teaching, gender politics, blogging, pop culture, critters, and whatever else comes her way.

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Location: United States

Yes, this really is yet another blog by a disillusioned grad student. I sympathize, but that's just the way it has to be. For hints as to what my bizarre alias means, click here and here and, if needed, here and here. To get a sense of what I'm up to, feel free to check out the sections called "Toward a Wiseass Creed" and "Showings: Some Introductory Wiseassery" in my main blog's left-hand sidebar. Please be aware that spamming, harassing, or otherwise obnoxious comments will be deleted and traced.

Saturday, December 17, 2005

Stupidities: A Whinge.

WARNING: This post is one long, pathetic whine about how dumb my life seems to be right now and how deeply representative yesterday was of that stupidity. You may feel very free to skip it, and I'm sorry I haven't figured out how to create links that would put the majority of this entry "below the fold" so those not interested in the quotidian idiocies of my life could avoid even having to look at it.

Yesterday was a very, very stupid day.

It was also a bad day. But it was bad primarily because it was so stupid.

Mouse and I had our first vet's visit together because he'd torn a claw last weekend. I'd chosen a vet recommended to me by Foster Mom--one who frequently works with rescue organizations--which was located, I thought, not very far from me. I turned out to be wrong about that, so the taxi ride over cost $23. And Mouse was whining pitifully the whole time; I think he was afraid I'd abandon him like his first owners did. It made me feel like a monster.

The vet's visit itself wasn't bad. Mouse was beautifully behaved, and everybody fell in love with him. We even got to see a woman who knew Mouse from his days with Foster Mom, and she was happy to see him. I was deeply disconcerted by the vet's speaking in rapid-fire baby talk the entire time, which included calling me "Mommy" repeatedly and referring to Mouse's "poopies" more than once. But she was very good with Mouse, which is what counts.

Mouse is generally in good shape, but apparently has some serious dental problems, including a bad case of gingivitis and some past mouth trauma which has already caused him to lose one incisor. He has several loose teeth, a few of which will probably have to be extracted at some expense to Yours Truly. I am less disturbed by the expense than I am that I hadn't noticed these problems, but I think Mouse's injury must have happened back in his days on the streets, and it doesn't seem to keep him from eating enough to be overweight, so I guess I'll forgive myself and buy some meat-flavored toothpaste.

This is where the real stupidities begin. Vet's visit over, I called for a taxi to get us home. They said it'd be no more than 15 minutes. I waited for an hour. Stupidity #2. When I called to check in, they said it'd be no more than 10 more minutes. I waited 15 more minutes. Stupidity #3. The vet finally took pity on me and got me a ride home with one of her technicians, who was leaving for the day.

Said technician was very sweet to give me a ride home, but made the unfortunate decision to play loud gangsta rap all the way there. Normally, I don't mind a little loud gangsta rap, but Mouse was already traumatized by the street noise (which I'm guessing doesn't bring back the best of memories for him) and was having none of it. Stupidity #4.

We finally got home rather late into the afternoon, and I still had a huge pile of papers to get to the office, theoretically by close of business. But I also had a traumatized Mouse who needed to be convinced that (1) he was, indeed home again and that (2) I really wasn't going to abandon him. So I was there for about an hour before I could leave.

After waiting for an age at the bus stop, I finally got onto a bus, which took another eon or two to reach campus because of some gigantic pile-up on a nearby highway. Stupidity #5. By the time I got to campus, it was so late that all I could really do was pick up a late exam from the office and send an email to the few students whose papers I had managed to finish on the way. I also did a few other, minor tasks and decided I might as well head back home.

On the way there, I realized I really ought to go see whether a nearby Discount Chain Store had some inexpensive luggage, since much of my other cheap luggage is falling apart and I'm heading to the Old Home Sod on Monday. I did so. I also found a few sweaters, which is good, because I needed a few. But I managed to lose my glasses (again) in the dressing room. Stupidity #6.

Once I realized what I'd done, I immediately went back to find them. They weren't there. The people at the dressing room hadn't seen them. Nobody had turned them in. Reluctant to leave without my glasses when I not only still have papers to comment on, but also have a fresh batch of exams to grade, I searched the Discount Chain Store (which was an absolute, disastrous mess) for two hours. No dice. I became so distraught that even the employees of Discount Chain Store, who normally maintain a carefully cultivated mask of indifference in order to protect themselves from the insanity that regularly happens there, started to feel bad for me.

In fact, I sat down in a pile of mismatched shoes where I thought I'd be least likely to get noticed and cried like a baby. Stupidity #7. I hate crying in public. In fact, I hate crying in front of anybody at all. I prefer to crawl off on my own like a wounded critter and hide until I can trust myself again. But it was all just a little too symbolic for me: my life feels mostly unmanageable most of the time, and I seem to keep working my ass off, only to always be behind schedule and dealing with new problems that crop up because I'm over-stressed and absent-minded.

Finally, I gave up out of sheer exhaustion. Then I waited on the street for the bus for 45 minutes in the freezing cold. Stupidity #8. When an SUV full of clubbing assholes pulled over just especially to offer me a particularly unflattering dose of street harassment (Stupidity #9), I couldn't even muster up the righteous indignation to say anything back to them, so I just stared into the distance until they finally got tired of insulting me and laughing about it. The bus finally came.

I had to make a transfer and wait for another 30 minutes for that bus. Stupidity #10. In order to deal with the cold, I had to layer one of the sweaters I'd bought on top of the one I was already wearing, thereby insuring a super-fabulous Crazy Lady aesthetic. Stupidity #11.

I finally got home, returning to a kitchen strewn with dishes, a disheveled bedroom, a disastrous living room, dumped my crap on the couch to add insult to injury, ranted at poor Boy Roomie for a while about the injustice of the world, and managed to leave my leftovers out on the counter in the process, thus ruining what was supposed to be dinner for the next two days. Stupidity #12. Which makes for a nice, even set of a dozen stupidities.

Today, just before discovering the festering leftovers on the counter, I woke up to a phone call from Stan, which was painful and weird.

I want to do absolutely nothing but hide under the bed with Mouse for the rest of the day. Unfortunately, that's not really an option.