It's Been a While

I have not posted anything in quite some time; I know this quite well. As it is, I have kept this blog out of certain topics that could stop the progress I need in certain areas. There is much I would like to tell the world. This endeavor may come down to a restructuring of this page, as well as the possible creation of another blog page. My intention is to discuss topics of kids, knitting, employment and economic issues that affect me and my family on a personal level. Some event of the past several years have had negative effects on my life. As it is, the internet of the United States is not a realm of free speech. I wish I could say more about certain things, but in many cases, these topics could prevent employers from hiring me. 

Anyway, I am planning and working on some projects right now. I will be keeping you tuned in.

Have an awesome day!

I Know I Have No Life When...

1. I know where all the Chrome Eggs are in Angry Birds Chrome. 

And how do I know this? I have Angry Birds Chrome installed on several computers for the sole purpose of resetting the game.

2. I blog about the Twelve Steps of Angry Birds.

3. Watching Six Degrees of Separation leads me to think "Chaos, Control, Chaos, Control. You like, You like."

4. I can't even get a decent date on Match.com

Oh wait, I may just be too fat for that. Match.com is the dating meat market for skinny chicks. If that's not the case, there are no guys on that site that like fat chicks, have something above a high school education, and don't look like rednecks.

5. I have the Match.com BlackBerry app.

6. I can tell you my FreeCell stats. My winning rate is 45% at one location, and 52% at another location.

7. My Farmville has more coins than my bank account has cash.

8. I play Sudoku on the crackberry.

9. Anne Burrell taught me how to crush and mince garlic.

10. I wish I could date Guy Fieri. 

Like that will ever happen. His wife would try to kill me. Death by food still happens. I can see the Clue solution: The wannabe-something was killed in the wine cellar by the wife using the steak and arsenic.

11. I watch the Food Network. Bobby Flay is my favorite Iron Chef. 

12. I blog about The Never Ending Story's boobs.

13. Some one in India reads my blog about the boobs.

I'll think of more later....

Freeing the Angry Birds

Much to the relief of Bumblebee, I have not played Angry Birds for over 48 hours. I have a very logical reason as to why...

I can't unlock the Chrome version levels 4-2 through 4-5. I didn't get all the little chrome balls in the Poached Eggs series. I needed those to unlock the Chrome level. I even tried to go back and find all the chrome balls to get them. Once you complete a level, the chrome balls go away.

Since I can't get the chrome things, I'm pretty much done with the game. Bumblebee will be proud of me.

THE TWELVE STEPS OF ANGRY BIRDS

Welcome to Angry Birds Anonymous. In order to break our addiction to flinging birds by the means of slingshots with the sole mission of destroying the pigs and their fortresses, acceptance of the following twelve steps is deemed essential.

1. We admitted we were powerless over the pig king-that our lives had become meaningless without our eggs.

2. Came to believe that a slingshot is a Power greater than pigs and could restore us our eggs.

3. Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of birds as we understood the value of the slingshot.

4. Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of our eggs and birds.

5. Admitted to ourselves, and to other birds the exact nature of the wrongs of pigs.

6. We're entirely ready to have birds remove all defects of character within pigs.

7. Humbly asked birds to remove all pigs by destroying the fortresses of the pig king.

8. Made a list of all pigs we had harmed, and became willing to make prisoners of them all.

9. Made direct capture to such pigs and fortresses wherever and whenever possible.

10. Continued to take personal inventory of our eggs, and when we miscounted,  promptly admitted to the theft of eggs by pigs.

11. Sought through prayer, slingshots, and trajectory paths to improve our conscious contact with pigs, praying the pig fortress will one day be destroyed.

12. Having had the destruction of the pig fortresses successful as the result of these Steps, we tried to carry this message to pigs and all other farm animals, and to practice these flying principles in all our wars against the pig king.



In the end, pigs shall witness the greatest destruction of their fortresses. Never again shall pigs of any race, color or creed make happen the theft of birds's eggs again.

Angry Birds

I declare it official:

I am addicted to Angry Birds!

I have only downloaded this annoyingly addicting game two days ago. As of this moment, I am struggling to get through Theme 2 of Poached eggs. Each round, I find the obligation to destroy the pigs by deploying birds from slingshots. I'm stuck on 2-21.

Since I also have a penchant for CollegeHumor.com, I figured I'd share this:



Giving credit where credit is due; Thank you to collegehumor.com for the embedding code for the video.

The Development of BumbleBee

I could have titled this entry as "My High Achieving Daughter." Then I though about it and that just seemed too plain. Nothing I do is allowed to fall into the class of ordinary. At the rate my kids are going, nothing they do is allowed to either.

Officially, Beadgirl no longer exists. She decided to donate all of her beading supplies. Which is too bad to a certain respect. She was good at it.

Rising from the ashes of Beadgirl comes a new form of my daughter: BumbleBee. Some how, some sixth grader got it into its head that my daughter is a bumblebee and has the last name: Taco. I wonder about these children coming out of the public school system. I have no idea how this certain child came up with the idea that my daughter is a bublebee. Her socks are too obnoxiusly different colored for flying-pollinating insects. And where the Taco came from I have an even fainter clue.

Where kids get these ideas, I'll never know.

In the Days of the Eighties Movies

In our ever so changing times, gone with the wind are the days of the local video rental store that carried everything from black and white Shirley Temple to the orginial The Blob to the Apple Dumpling Gang to the modern day of Inception and the Hangover. Gone are the days where I can just walk into a video store, pick up some movie made in my childhood of the eighties, go home and watch it.

In the new more modern and less high touch era of life, I can visit the Redbox and select from a vast aray of current and popular titles. Little do they care that I'm not in the mood for Salt. I need a good dose of Lolita in black and white, or a day off with Ferris Bueller.

But, sun wil always come out tomorrow with my handy dandy Netflix subscription. Most recently on my list of mail-order dvd's was The Never Ending Story.

Comfy in my huge bed last night, Beadgirl (who has changed her name to BumbleBee) and I watched this wonderful movie of the eighties. Of all the things that could have caught my attention more, one scene stood out.

Of all dumb things that could grab my attention, I had to notice something about the two Sphinxes. Their eyes had nothing to do with anything I felt shocked by. I admire whoever constructed the miniatures for the scene. The artwork is wonderful. These two Sphinxes were definitely created by a member of the human species whose brain is drenched in testosterone. The one thing that threw me off about this scene was the Boobs.

These aren't just boobs. These are 38C boobs. Definitely built by a man. No woman would have given a Sphinx boobs of that size. She would have given her something modest like a 32A sized chest. I remember film being more flexible with creativity and content rating when I was a kid. Wow! Have I grown so wimpy that I got tripped up by boobs?

Had this movie been made in current politically correct times, this move would have received a PG-13 rating for sexual content. Boobs are not to be seen by kids in elementary school. Boobs with nipples are strictly prohibited from a G or even PG rating. Let alone the boobs would have been smaller, or removed completely.

Its too bad our weeny American society can't handle the concept of art. Boobs are a part of being woman. Boobs in film are the interpretation and edification of life. Watching The Never Ending Story last night reminded me that this is art. The Sphinxes are a replication of ancient mythology and culture where boobs were an accepted fact of life. We no longer live in a time where boobs are considered acceptable for kids to see in film, even if the object with said boobs is not human.

Thanks to film and Netflix, the eighties can live forever.

The Parody of My Resume

In writing a resume, there are certain things you want the employer to see, and things you want to say. In the case of resume writing, blunt honesty is not always the best policy.

I start my resume with a professional profile:

Energetic, adaptable, and motivated future employee with over 10 years experience in providing a consistently excellent customer service experience by maintaining a goal of 100% satisfaction while upholding a high level of professionalism, courtesy, and respect for confidentiality.

What I would like to say on the Saturday Night Live Version:

I'm a hyperactive mother of two hyperactive teenagers who thinks about playing well with others and does run with scissors when attempting to handle lazy people. For the past twenty years, I have been biting the heads off of lazy annoying people and spitting them back out through my rear end. I still kiss up to your customers while your employees will fear me.

In reality, I'm not cruel to people, or co-workers. I am energetic, and do get bored easily when there is no challenge in front of me. I have several times held back from telling potential employers TeleTech wasn't a good match because I don't sit still very well.

Sometimes I flat out get tired of writing and customizing my resume for employers. I'd like to write something into it that says something like this:

Just HIRE ME! Quit asking me questions about my behavior in the workplace and just hire me. If you read my resume, you see the skills and the behavior. In the end, I will make you a ton of money and your customers will think the earth can't turn without you.

Actually, I am tired of being unemployed. I spend more time on facebook than its worth just because I have nothing to do that earns money. So I figure

Just Hire Me and let me make you a ton of money!

Things I want to Say

I want to talk about lots of things. I want to vent about my unemployment. I want to vent about being frustrated with government. I want Obama to face America and answer the questions. I want to know the real answers as to why gas prices are so high. I want to know why my computer is slow. I want to know why I have to chat with a guy in India when I ask for help from HP. I want to know what I do wrong in interviews to the point I can't land a job. I want to pay my rent. I want have a job. I want to know why people can just hurt other people. I want to know why Beadgirl is in love with NCIS. I want to know why I haven't finished a post in over a year. I want to get back into my blog. I've got ideas in my head, but nothing seems worthy of messing with. Is that my lack of self confidence? I want to know why my mom thinks I'm a waste of time. I want to know why the only hits to this page on the past year have been over searching for a former contract employer. I want to know why someone looked at my page from Boise, ID.

You have no idea how hard it is to stay busy when there is no job. You have no idea how hard it is to keep confident when there are interviews, but plenty of rejections. Its even harder when there feels like no encouragement around except myself.

My Very Own Loren Ipsum

Do not read this. It says nothing. This is my test of how Windows Live Writer looks. I have no intention of saying anything useful today.

So, Loren Ipsum to you!

In the Meantime, the Library Will Have To Do

I have nothing against the concept of the public library. The ability to check out and read books on just about anythign I can imagine is wonderful. The selection available, yes even here in Kitsap County, is really quite substantial. The library many times saved us during our homeschooing years. I loved brining the kids to the library for time away from home. They did quite a lot of research in the library.

On the other hand, there are some things the library provides I feel soemtimes I am much better off without. Some of the services provided end up feeling quite cheap. Of course, I would be typing this into blogger on Internet Explorer ( FireFox rules!) on the computer with the sticky keys. And when some oen logs onto the internet in here, everythign slows down, and many times freezes. On several occassions I have ended up loosing almost 10 minutes of time out of my one hour time limit.

My solution will be a little slow right now. I'm hoping all of my 1099's come in the mail this week. The soone rI get them, the sooner they get delivered to the accountant. The sooner I can deliver them to the accountant, the sooner my taxes get filed. The sooner the taxes get filed, the sooner I get my refund. The first thing I do with my refund, buy a new laptop.  YEAH!

The Process

... for the Washington Department of Health to produce a wonderful piece of paper known as a Pharmacy Technician license. In the mean time, I am biding my time anxiously patiently. I'm pretty sure everyone knows just how ADHD calm I can be while waiting. Thanks to the Washington State Department of Health, along with the licensing needs of pharmacies all around Puget Sound, I am UNABLE to work in the community I have so graciously paid $14,000 to enter.

A few weeks ago, I called the department of health with questions. I did get some answers. Some of it made sense. I learned...

the DOH receives applications with payments every day
there are 1000's of these applications pouring in from all aspects of health care every day
upon receiving an application package, the DOH separates the payment from the application.
the application is then filed away in line with all the other applications waiting for processing
I was told there was a two to four week wait for application processing
applications are currently waiting a period of five weeks

After all that waiting, THEN the processing begins with

data entry
a dark past background check
I hope there is a second dark past background check thanks to all the time we spend waiting for these pieces of paper
the waiting pointlessly processing check
the reality legality check
the final data entry
the printing of the paper
the mailing of the paper

I guess I don't think like normal people. i tend to have a very hard time accepting lame excuses when it comes to just about anything. You can give me a lame excuse. That part is fine. How I tend to respect anything about you or anything you do after the lame excuse is given is for you to deal with. I pretty much wrote you off as annoying and lazy.

Honestly, why it takes the DOH that long to do anything is plainly BEYOND me. I have spent the past several weeks trying to figure out how that state agency can even live with itself knowing there are thousands of people all over the state being denied the ability to have a decent job in health care; all because of the DOH lag time. I'm not sure if that office is pro-customer service, or pro-cash waster. Seriously, if the load is so heavy for the DOH that it just can't handle it, HIRE MORE PEOLPE. After all, I need a job. Obviously that office has a need for staff. I see a win-win situation there.

I may see my license come to me sometime in January. So far, I have been denied several interviews because I don't carry the proper license. That just isn't cool with me at all. Of course, by the time I get my first Technician license, it will be time to send off for the renewal.

Well, I may SOMEDAY be able to get a decent job in a pharmacy, and maybe even be able to re-enter college for the Pharm, D. program at the UW.  I guess I can always dream on.

My Extership Rocked. (and Now I Wait for My License)

I have never had, in my entire life, a better 160 hours than I did in my time at Peninsula Community Health Services. In 160 hours of free working time, I discovered:

just how much I really love being in the pharmacy
my first real experience in pharmacy work
PDX is a software program of its very own uniqueness
PDX is quite maneuverable once you figure it out
the desire to beat PDX sometimes comes quite often
different pharmacists function with different work habits, but still get everything done
brand new sharpie markers do not leave the desired dark X on bottles
older, blunter sharpies leave a beautiful, dark, bold X on the bottle
some patients can really try a person's patience
keeping your patience with patients who are trying your patience causes said patients to leave a pharmacy counter with a very open jaw
how blessed I am to have worked with former pharmacy tech instructors
how blessed I am  to have worked with the pharmacists that I did
160 hours of full-time volunteer work comes as fast as it goes

To the Pharmacy of Peninsula Community Health Services:

Thank You for the best 160 hours I have ever spent working on a volunteer basis. I have now worked with the greatest people I could ever have been with. Thank you for the support and encouragement.

It's Over, (And Now I Need a Job)

So the last post I wrote was at the start of my last 20 hours in class. Well, I have to admit that 20 hours was over only a month ago. In those last 20 hours, I took something like 10 tests, including the glorious lab final, intended to give a presentation on Congenital Indifference to Pain, and put in my fair share of time studying for the PTCB.

Much to my reassurance, I did not throw IV syringes as if they were darts in the hood. I was looking forward to the dual mix syringe work in the final. The assignment: pull 3ml practi-powder solution into the syringe. Then add 7ml sterile water into said syringe without backwashing the yellow solution into the bottle of sterile water. All while simulating working in a vertical flow hood.

Prevention of shadowing in a vertical hood isn't as easy as it sounds. Sure, everything is held so the airflow of the hood hits the top of the syringe, and vial, and everything else in the hood. Holding all that stuff so the air actually can hit the top of the syringe, vial, and everything else isn't so easy. For the most part, proper vertical technique looks something like what my dear friend, and model for this photo, Shevy, is doing here.

Of course, the ONLY Power Point I out together during the entire 9 months, not related to any of the assignments in the CORE module, was finished, but never shown. To make that situation even more annoying, the flash drive with the project on it disappeared. For Your Information, presenting Congenital Indifference to Pain with nothing more than the internet as a research option and NO cash available to purchase medical journals is nothing close to easy. Some of my best information, pictures included, was in the form of TV articles I found on YouTube. Basically, after I spent the many hours pouring through google searches, videos, and maveuring through Power Point 2007, all I had to turn in was the outline.

I managed to pull through the last three of the generics tests with decent scores. Thank you to my good friend, Shevy (yes, the model of vertical flow) I somehow managed to cram master 20 generic drugs relating to diabetes, put in some PTCB practice tests, and manage to pull off a test on human hormones.


Somehow, I still managed all A's in the final module.  WOW.

20 Hours

This is a magical number for me today. As I currently stand, there are 20 hours left in school. Twenty hours begins with the Lab final, in which I will not throw syringes as if they are darts. Those twenty hours end with a comprehensive test in generic drugs for diabetes.

I would say that I will not know what to do with my time, but that has no reality what so ever. After taking the usual day off, I will begin a new venture in my journey to Certified Pharmacy Technician. I am required 160 hours of extenrship, aka free labor, to a pharmacy.

Am I excited, if I were to think not, I would have to rename myself Pinocchio.

Will Someone Please Move Their Jeep?

WASHJAM is a big camporee, a scaled down version of National Jamboree for Boy Scouts put on by Chief Seattle and Pacific Harbors Councils. Troops from all over WA, OR, ID, MT, UT attended the first one five years ago. The first WASHJAM was expecting about 1500 youth and adults but by registration close there were only about 1000 registered but by Saturday, there were over 2000 in attendance.

This WASHJAM was attended by the above 5 states as well as a troop from Canada. The word put out was to expect about 3000-4000 youth and adults. On Saturday night at the Grandstand, it was announced there were over 5000 of us and at one point the figure of 5500 was given. As you can see, this is not a small event.

Bigfoot, EagleMom, and That Weird Woman attended WASHJAM. They were invited by an Asst. Scoutmaster to have dinner with them as there would be a lot of food. The 3 had planned to have hot dogs from the back of the van in the parking lot. That Weird Woman asked how many total were in the troop and since they had 10 it seemed a good idea to offer the hot dogs as a bonus to the meal. They had taken 16 hot dogs for the 3 of them.

As everyone was just hanging out until the chili and hot dogs were done, the boys from the troop got some TP from one of the Asst. Scoutmasters and covered a Jeep as much as they could. This Jeep was parked in their camping area but did not belong to any of them. No vehicles were allowed in the camp area, gear trailers were. A Ft. Lewis Security man came around trying to locate the owner. He was asking the troops next to the Jeep if it was theirs. They said no but thought the man had gone over into another camp area when he got out. The Security man told the Scoutmasters he did not care what happened to the Jeep as long as it was not scratched, dented, damaged in any way but if the boys wanted to TP it, cover it in plastic wrap etc, he saw no harm in the prank as it was just "protecting" the Jeep from bird droppings, dust, etc. Boys being boys heard this and you know what they did! They got TP from an Asst. Scoutmaster and covered it. Someone took a picture of them doing it and turned it into the Sub-camp director.

Dinner is over and the boys are playing with another troop in an open field. The Sub-camp director came over and had words with two of the Scoutmasters from the next troop over. It was getting a little loud. The Scoutmaster from the troop we were with went over and calmed it down a little. Another Scoutmaster from the troop on the other side was called over. He backed up what our Scoutmaster was saying about the OK to "protect" the Jeep. Our Scoutmaster went and removed the TP before That Weird Woman could get a picture of it for the newsletter. The Sub-camp director said it was teaching the boys to be disrespectful of others. As far as any of the Scoutmasters, and Asst. Scoutmasters were concerened in the 3 troops involved, it was a harmless prank. The Jeep was not damaged in any manner and it may have taught a lesson the man who parked it illegally in the first place. You follow the rules and DON'T MESS WITH SCOUTS.

In the Name of Coffee...

Our compounding lab work got stuffed in a drawer at the end of our lunch break today. In the name of needing coffee, or anything in my stomach, I ditched my friend today. I would say I ditched her during lab, but this was almost 30 minutes after lab and we still weren't finished.

Thank you to the morning Pharmacy Tech class, Jill and I made a pretty green pain relieving capsule. Measuring out the sprinkles, fine. Measuring out the acetaminophen; run the calculations and crush tablets to smithereens. Measure out 18 grams of baking soda, and you get an hour long fight with a delicate piece of crap we call the scale. Or, according to our lead program chair, a balance. Either way, the thing is a countlessly broken piece of DELICATE EQUIPMENT.

Since the majority of our 90 minute lab session was spent on measuring out baking soda, the punching of #2 size capsules went well into our lunch break. Our entire lunch break.

And good-ole-I-haven't-eaten-since-nine-this-morning was working with the ever so dilligent I-always-study-Jill, I left her for something in my stomach.

In the name of coffee, our lab work was set in a drawer with our names on it, to be finished tomorrow.

Educating Kids About the Intenet-Priceless

I came home from school thinking this would be a very good day to walk with Beadgirl up to the bakery outlet close to our house. I didn't expect to never make it there thanks to some loser moron imbusil player on Runescape who was ACTUALLY TRYING TO STEAL MY DAUGHTER'S ID!

Beadgirl said she would come with me after she decided what to do with her Runescape account. She got a message informing her that her account was reported for scamming other people. Not just once, but to the tune of 24 times. Beadgirl is not, and has never been, the kind of person to pull crap anywhere like that. The person "handling" the "case" told Beadgirl she would need to submit her user name, password and email. For some reason, the account would need to be "played" by the "moderator" so that they could see what was said. If the reports were false, Beadgirl would be rewarded in points, or game money, or whatever it was. But, we would not be able to see information about the incidents.

Hello! The Runescape policy openly states that NO employee will ever ask for that information.

I told Beadgirl to ask if an IP address check can be run during the replay. That will tell us where the log-in to her account came from. She was told by the person on the other end that IP searches could not be done. We wouldn't be allowed to see the information. Not only were we not able to ask for an IP search, we weren't allowed to get time/date stamp information.

This Mamma Bear came onto the chat. In the end, I drove this "undercover moderator" on the other end of the line nuts. This person decided to tell me Beadgirl's account would be blocked. Whatever. The Runescape information openly gives information on moderators. There are no undercover moderators. Jagex employees will never ask for sensitive information, and they do watch for foul play.

My message to Runescape predators:

Don't mess with my kids. You will REGRET IT!

To parents:

There are loosers everywhere, especially the internet. Education is our ultimate Power Tool.

Patches? Who Said Anything About Patches?

I can't figure out why a Boy Scout uniform would need patches. Especially when the uniform has to be worn for seven days at summer camp. Oh please. The shirt doesn't need patches. How can the shirt need patches. It's not the last minute yet.

The conversation I needed to have yesterday:

"Mom," from the vocal cords of Bigfoot, "I YOU need to put patches on my shirt so I can take it to camp."

Everything comes out of Bigfoot's mouth as YOU instead of I. HE needs to do nothing. YOU, meaning I-the mom, need to do everything. I will eventually break him of this habit. Just like I will learn to type without stupid mistakes or the backspace button.

"Which numbers does it need?" I'm thinking it is the shirt that has repeatedly gone home with another Boy Scout, is full of Steam-A-Seam spots, and has come home twice with missing numbers. This is not the shirt Bigfoot has in his mind.

"All of them."

"What?"

"Yeah mom, ALL OF THEM."

"Where is your shirt with the patches?"

"I don't know. I need patches on the blank shirt so I can go to camp."

If I had this conversation yesterday, new patches could have been purchased and the larger shirt would have been properly assembled.

The troop leaves for camp tomorrow. Through today's course of events, lessons have been learned. I learned the Scout Shop is closed on Saturdays in July and August. Patches are not available in a single thrift store in this condemn blessed county. Shirts are no longer available in the thrift stores. Boy Scouts is not dead, just not showing up in thrift stores. Red numbers aren't showing up in stores either. That Weird Woman was told at one thrift store that scout patches are actually being thrown out when shirts do come in. Not cool. Bigfoot has his first lesson in sewing today. He has learned how to use a seam ripper, needle, thread and threader.

He may take all night, but the shirt will get done. The Mom-Fairy may show up and finish it tonight.

Did This Really Happen to Me?

Now that I have six five weeks left of school, I am wondering just what happened this week. I went from a great start to total a total chaos of mess.

Monday was a great day for me. The pin-stripe black suit went on. My resume was printed, on pink resume paper of all things. I normally don't even fathom the idea of printing a resume on anything other than a shade of white and heavy-weight paper. This time, I needed to tap the "extensive" supply of paper at school. My choices of color extended to green, gold, gray, and pink. Right off the bat, green and gold are out of the picture for me. I could have handled the gray if it wasn't a dark gray. Pink ended up being my option since it was the only paper I cold find that would actually make the ink look good on the paper. For some reason, that pink paper ended up being a good thing. Peninsula Community Health Services is working on my background check for externship right now. I don't think I even had a ten minute interview with the lead technician at the clinic and she told me to head over to the administrative offices for paper work! I got my externship!

Tuesday, I learned it is darn near impossible to pull from an ampule, chemo style. My first round in the chaos of Tuesday's lab involved the flinging of an ampule with it conveniently breaking open for me. not only did I not get it the first time, I screwed it up the second time. How anyone pulls anything from a 2ml ampule in a vertical flow hood successfully, I may never know. It reminds me of the Tootsie Pop owl. I never did finish my chemo lab on Tuesday.

I learned on Wednesday that it takes 2 hours to fill 6 retail style prescriptions. New patient information; fine. I can handle that. New Dr. Information? Why am I having to create 6 new doctors in the system? Oh, and to whoever wrote the Robitussin prescription: We don't have it in tablet or capsule form on the school shelves. We only carry it in OTC strength and in syrup form. It takes 100mg to administer a minimum level dose. There is no efficacy in 10 to 20mg of guaifenesin every 4 hours. Let alone, 30 tablets will not do the job. Did you not read the PDR when you wrote the form, or did you just make it up? I had to deal with this crap on Wednesday. Thank you.

I was about to blog about all of this Thursday, that is until I got home from school. That Weird Woman was sick. I had dinner to make, and a conference call to sit in on at the same time. By the time I was done with everything, I was feeling awful, right along with the rest of the family.

I don't like running route when I am feeling sick. I wake up late, drive slow, and make mistakes. Not being able to get back to sleep afterwards due to a caffeine high doesn't make the situation any better. This would be the particular case when I have a demo gig for the day. So today, I fell asleep after route, and woke up late for demo.

Since I hadn't read my sales info, I decided it would be a good idea to stop at Cash & Carry today for gloves. Boy, was that a life-saver. I never needed them, but would not have picked up a food-service grade plastic tray if I had not gone in for gloves. I never did need the gloves, but did need the tray. Actually, I was supposed to have a cooler, but never got that in the mail like I was supposed to. Just like the store I was supposed to work was supposed to receive a memo about today's demo. Sure. Whatever. the store did not know I was coming. The produce manager didn't really want to help me out. There was no product in the store, and he was very adamant that he doesn't carry it what so ever. My confirmation letter sent me to his store, but the forms were printed for another store. My scheduler couldn't figure out what was going on. The other store had no product in stock for me and wouldn't have any for tomorrow either.

So I found my car making its way back across lovely Bremerton to the parking building where I park for school. Since I found my Friday afternoon free of working, I could at least make use of the time for open lab. I, along with two other classmates did make a very nice ointment of sugar, peppermint and clove. Measuring out 15 grams of petroleum jelly is not really my idea of a good time, but the practice was useful.

So, if this was the week I went through, can someone please wake me up now?