Channelling Andy Rooney

Grump, grump, grump.

There's nothing like being awakened three times during the night by someone else's child, then treated to the sound and sight of repeated temper tantrums at 0630 in the morning on your day off. This is why I do not have children. This is also why I left The Boyfriend's house this morning without coffee or a shower.

Please explain to me why people can drive like bats out of Hades when it's raining and pissing and visibility is what you'd see in, say, the middle of a tar pit, yet slow down in the same construction zones on perfectly clear nights. There are two construction zones--the sort with no shoulder, where three lanes of traffic zoom between concrete barriers--between me and work. Every clear, lovely night people slow down and we crawl through at 25 miles an hour. On nights like Saturday night, when it's raining cats and dogs, they blast through the flooded areas going 80. Riddle me that.

If you tell me that you're friends with the hospital board president, it will not make me treat you any better. Especially if you're obnoxious. Let's face it: unless Mister Bigshot is in the room with you, holding your hand, you're just another patient.

My hospital hobbyist is now in isolation. Unfortunately that means little or nothing to HH's spouse, who insists upon heating up dinner in the communal microwave and removing equipment from the room. Given that these are the same people who think that empty rooms are good for taking naps or entertaining the kids, I'm not surprised...

Goodness. In my current mood, the only thing to do is scrub the shower. That'll make me feel less grouchy, and I'll end with a sparkly clean bathtub.