I got punctured.
I was not ready for pain. I never am. And eventhough I find my doc sympathetic, it is very hard to like someone who is coming closer to you with a needle in their hand. Not lovable behaviour, people!
I've had 3 cortisone-shots before (all to the head), but this one was by far the worst. For some odd reason, the tendon in my knee (the one he was attacking) goes all the way up to to side of gluteus maximus, i.e. my ass. And while pointed at with sharp, pointy objects, the tendon went "Aw hell no!" and radiated pain aaaaall the way up to said part of my bootylicious behind.
What I'm trying to say here is: I got treatment for my knee but now my ass hurts. This better help.
Oh yes, talking about vegetation , I was sure I'd even managed to kill the one and only plant that has ever stayed alive in my house: my Gardenia.
I got it from Mom about umm.. closer to 10 years than 5, and it has proven to be the biggest fan of S/M ever. I've been close to killing it a few dozens of times, but somehow it jus stays alive and keeps blooming. Even when it gets the hose some beer. My Mom surprised me a few years back by asking me if I'd changed the pot or given it fertilizer yet this spring. My answer ("this spring? Hah!") made her take it away and nurse it for a while, and it turned out this was the only year the gardenia didn't bloom. Poor baby got scared of the mean lady nursing it back to health.
So, it has been dying a while here, and I thought I'd really, really, actually managed to kill it this time. I decided I'd give it some water and a weeks time to wither away completely, and then I'd throw it away. For good, and never have plants anymore.
And so the fucker starts blooming.
I usually get one flower a year, which is kinda an agreement we have. It smells nice one week in the year and looks ugly the rest of the time, and I get to act like I'm a great landscape artist for 1 week of 52.
This year it seems like I will get 3 flowers. At least. And the joke isn't even over. This little bastard gardenia of mine, starts sprouting 2 NEW PLANTS! Not branches but actual, real live plants that have started to grow right next to the big ugly one with the 3-4 flowers. Are you kidding me?! I was this close to throwing your masochistic dirt-ass in the trash! But nooooo, you have to disrespect me by sprouting flowers and completely new plants with roots and shit. I now have 2 more plants to kill that Just. Won't. Die.
And I can't throw them out because they are the only proof that my touching stuff doesn't result in everything immediately burning up in a bright red flame and producing a sizzling pile of dust and feces.
"ok, name one aspect of my personality that you love"
"I don't know! Um... I love you because..... I love that you do stuff for me!"
"That's not a personality trait!"
"Like these cupcakes. These are really good!"
"That's not a personality trait. You can't say you love me just because I do stuff for you! Now name one before I break your nuts!"
"Your butt's nice too."
Hi! Welcome to this pharmacy, have you been here before? No? Okay, this is how it works.
There is pharmaceutical personnel and technicians. The technicians are allowed to type in prescriptions on the computer, but they're not allowed to give out any medicines to the customer or say anything about them. They are not even allowed to tell people about Over The Counter-medicines. Neither are they allowed to take phone-prescriptions from doctors who are calling in. All this is reserved, by law, for the pharmaceutical personnel.
This is why our cashiers at the other end of the pharmacy have a bell, which they ring every time we are needed. Lately a lot of people have been sick, so we are a bit understaffed. And the bell has been going *ding!* a lot. With these kinds of questions:
*Ding!*
"may I help you?"
"yes, what's the difference between these two? ibuprofein X and ibuprofein Y?"
"Different factory. Same active ingredient, 400 mgs of ibuprofein"
"why are there so many?"
"excuse me? Oh, right. They're from different factories, sir"
"but why? Isn't one enough?"
"They're from different factories, sir."
"yes....?"
"...who are both trying to make money from them."
"oh."
*Ding!*
"May I help you?"
"yes, what's the difference between these two?"
"Only the factory, they're both containing the same active ingredient in an equal amount"
"Oh, okay, I see. Which one is better?"
*Ding!*
"May I help you?"
"Yes, I need zinc. For my dog."
"why?"
"Excuse me?"
"Why? What does it suffer from?"
"I don't know. Nothing. It felt like a good idea!'
*Ding!*
"May I help you?"
"Um... no. Could you send someone older over here?"
Of course there are reasonable, sane customers, but there are also a looooot of stooopid questions. Like why it isn't recommended to eat suppositories? The medicine needs to get into the body anyway, right?
Apart from this there were the phone prescriptions, regular prescripitons and such. So you might get why I jump like Pavlov's dog every time I hear a bell ring. Since I am Head of Marketing (notice shiny title), my job prescription also includes taking care of the marketing part, establishing a loyal customer-programme and taking care of everything cosmetics-related. So we had a representative for a french firm come over and we ordered a bunch of stuff. Yesterday it all arrived and I phoned her. This is why:
"Yeah, hi. It's Jenni from the pharmacy. We got what we ordered and something just isn't right."
"I was there last week and we agreed that I would look at what you guys are lacking and we'd order it."
"Yes, I was also left with that impression. And now I am left with a shitload of things we haven't ordered."
"Don't worry. I talked to the woman in charge."
"That would be me. I didn't order this. It's unsellable, which is why we don't have it in stock in the first place."
"I talked to the other woman in charge"
"There isn't one. That would still have to be me."
"I talked to the owner."
"Yes, I know, I was at the meeting. As you may remember she told you she doesn't order our cosmetics at all. She only pays for them."
"Oh. Well then it's just a misunderstanding. But still I sent you what you were lacking so everything is okay!"
"No. As I said items 1-6 are unsellable. item 7 and 8 we have half a years worth."
"No you don't."
"Look. I'm standing in front of the shelf, with a paper in my hand the computer kindly spit out for me, and both my eyes and the paper are telling me we have half a years worth."
"Well then they were hidden somewhere"
"No they weren't"
"Well sell them then!"
"we will. But we aren't going to tie up a lot of money just to have it sit on the shelf. We did not order this and we are not keeping it. You are going to take it back because we are not going to pay you actual money for things you randomly sent to us without asking."
"Hmpf. Well. Whatever."
I think we are going to have to re-think keeping this particular brand on sale. We have been begging them for testers for half a year now without any luck, they regularly send us stuff we didn't order and really don't bother sending us things we did order. And finally there are the teenyweeny "price adjustments" that raised their products prices by 45-115% in january. We are experiencing a bit of a hard time justifying this rise in the sell-out-price to our customers who used to buy stuff cheaper than we get it from the importer nowadays.
Sometimes I just don't get how it would be so hard to conduct business with clients. A lot of firms are very good at it. We order shit, and they send it. We sell it and the customer buys it. We have a fix price that may vary with a couple of euros a year which is justifiable to customers. Imagine if everything was so wonderful.
And how do they ever imagine they could get away with sending clients stuff they haven't order. They thought we wouldn't notice? It's kind of like the customers who think they can get prescription meds, usually benzodiazepines, without prescription and preferably without paying for it. Because YOU PEOPLE DIDN'T CALL ME AT HOME TO TELL MY PRESCRIPTION IS VALID ONLY FOR A YEAR! I DON'T READ THESE THINGS, YOU SHOULD KNOW IT YOU WITCH! NOW PASS ME THE PILLS WOMAN!
I'm feeling the need to open up once more.
The thesis-thing is going along pretty well and it shouldn't be many more months left. I'm 75 pages strong and aiming at 80, but there will be a lot of re-writing to do. And finally, after more or less straight-forward arguing I am on the same page with my thesis-supervisor.
I think the hardest part about writing academic papers is admitting that you need help. The second hardest would be when she returns my textual love-child with little notes on the side. Like "this is poo" and "you suck".
But the thing that has led us to where we are is once again the dominant feature of my life and the reason to why I am such a whiny bitch sometimes a little temperamental: pain.
The knee is still waiting to be pointed at with sharp objects and the docs could HURRY UP WITH MY MRI-CALL! So I still am in pain. I don't mind it that much and it is a part of everyday life, and I thought I was coping pretty well until one of my friends kindly pointed out that my appearance bares a striking resemblance to feces. This is how I realized that maybe, just maybe, waking up 5-6 times every night when I adjust the knee in my sleep and grinding mostly soft stuff and the painkillers I have a love affair with right now with my chew-bits might not be the equivalent of "a good nights rest and a sturdy meal". Imagine that.
So I discussed with my supervisor that this is probably one of the main reasons that the text I produce is utter bullshit not of the highest quality she is used to see in my papers, and she presented me with two options. 1) We wait until everything is knifed up and sawed in half and hope it was for the better and then continue or 2) we finish it really fast now and try not to care about the grade it receives.
Guess which one I took. One of the main reasons is that I study according to the old system. The new system would be the implementation of the Bologna Process, which renews the credit system you get for studies. And oh, there is this little other thing. Bologna won't allow students to get credits for previous exams. I have a previous exam from pharmacy and have used it to get credits for my minor and "other supplementary studies". This makes up for 1/4 of my current exam because the old system allows me to use these studies as a supplement. So: when the accomodation period runs out in 1.8.2008 and everyone is forcefully transferred from the old, safe system to the new system, a fourth of my studies that I have gotten for free go Poof!
And I figured because I have a lot of work experience and would've studied a 4-5 year exam in 3 years if I graduate this spring, my possible future employer (hire me, I'm open!) would probably not give my master's thesis the time of the day. And let's face it the phrase "Soooo... did you bring your thesis with you? Can I read it? Can I? I must read it before I can hire you!" is seldom heard in job interviews. My 2 previous employers haven't even bothered to look at my diplomas or pharmaceutical license.
So keep yer thumbs up and fingers crossed because we're goin' in the deep end with this one!
Commonwealth husband. I have just now learned that that is what he is called. It sounds very common to me.
Anyway.
He kicks ass because he vacumed! And dusted and washed the clothes and stuff! Can you imagine? How sexy is that!?
I made him tell me the part about him cleaning up the gooey stuff behind the microwave three times. And it got so much better. He called me at work yesterday only to ask if he should have dinner ready when I get home from work or if I'd prefer eating when he gets back from his training. The impressed ooh's and aah's from my coworkers (all women) seemed to have no end. A few asked me if I'd be interested in a trade.
It might be because he is on vacation right now that he does all these things, but I'm not complaining. And I think I'm getting old because a man cleaning and cooking dinner is just about the sexiest thing I can imagine. Or it might just be that thing about me being insane.
No rest for the wicked, right?
We've had guests, worked and travelled a bit during easter.
And we went spelunking! Which was probably my favourite part. There was this one cave we didn't get into because we didn't have rubber boots with us. I actually don't even own a pair... Kinda disappointing because I'm pretty sure it was the cave, i. e. filled with gold. Or nuclear warheads. Or golden nuclear warheads.
Sami remains ever the sceptic. And I refuse to share the reward and medals I get for returning the golden nuclear warheads to the state selling them to the highest bidder.
Right now we're back in Turku trying to survive this trip. I worked from 9-17 yesterday, after which we drove 2 hours to Turku and went partying with friends. It was Nina's birthday/housewarming. Incredibly fun and it did a world of good because I haven't been out partying in months. A little disappointing was that Sami is so old that he doesn't have the energy to party all night long so we came back about 2-3ish already. Still, boatloads of fun!
My surprise arrived yesterday so now I can let you guys in on the deal.
There is this guy who writes a book-series that's (freely translated) called The Drunk Diaries. He also writes a second series which is about a side-charchter in the first series, and in the last few years he has started a third series of books, a detective one. We have them all.
The humor is very.. umm... below the belt, but the stories are fun and they're really nice books to read when you don't have the energy to use your brain at all. Guys love them. So does mine. Since, as I've mentioned, Sami has dyslexia, I'm always happy when he reads, and he reads a lot these days. You barely even notice the dyslexia anymore. Anyway. All of these books are his favourites, and so I thought since the third book in the detective-series came out, and that was the only one we didn't have, I'd get it for him. I contacted the author at dictator-publishing and asked if it was in an way possible for him to sign the book I was about to order through the publisher since Sami's job doesn't really give him much time to attend signings at book-fairs or shops. I explained a bit how hardcore of a fan Sami really is, and told the writer that a signature would probably mean we'd have to put the book in frames on the wall and start calling it "my precious".
He replied! He told me he'd be happy to sign it, and as a matter of fact, they would like to donate the book to Sami as a present. And if I would be so kind to send them a pic of him they'd let the sketch-artist who draws doodles on the edges of the pages in all of these books draw a caricature of him.
I couldn't believe my eyes! I was set on the author never even answering me, and here he turns out to be just about the nicest, sweetest person ever!
And so, yesterday the book arrived with the mail and I have to say, I can't remember when I've seen him this excited about stuff before. It all turned out very well. I got heeps and heeps of kisses.
On another note, yesterday was the day when we hit a roadmark. 12 hours of daylight and 12 hours of night. This means half a year of nightless day starts in the north. And it also means we in the south get to start anticipating the nightless nights of summer since they are rapidly growing closer. Good, because I could sure use me some light!
So I come home from work, at 8 pm. I know Sami won't be home because he is at a party for some guy from work who is going to quit being some guy from work at this particular organization.
But he did leave me lots and lots of used glasses on the counter. And his dirty pants on the armchair. And papers and leftover pizza-boxes.
And he drank most of my blueberry vodka! Which I haven't paid for yet to my darling bro' who dragged it tax-free for me from the boat because they don't sell it over here (which, by the way is just plain stupid. Finlandia vodka? Hellooo?)!
It's mine because I requested it back in the day when we didn't have joint bank accounts. And since it's hard to get I have been extremely territorial over it. I know it's stupid because I only use it to make a PERFECT drink every now and then so I really don't even use that much of it. But it was one of the few last things in this relationship that was ever really mine. And he drank it. And left me with the shitty glasses.
Sometimes I wish I lived with a cleaner. That way he'd know to appreciate the time and effort an extremely anal human being like myself puts into cleaning. It's almost like he borrowed my underwear and gave it back to me with skid-marks. And drank my vodka while wearing them.
Yes, I am aware I sound a tad mentally unstable. And I probably am.
But he drank my vodka!
Things I love:
Not having to work which gives me time to fix the things that need to be fixed with the thesis.
Having time to go for a walk and practice sports.
Tea on tuesday. <3
Choosing our wedding rings which means one less thing to worry about!
Things I loathe:
Realizing that our Digibox didn't record Weeds even though I set it right. For once. Stupid worthless box of components.
That once we've all gotten to terms with the fact that winter just didn't arrive this year and have started to await spring: It snows. Stupid worthless clouds.
That my knee didn't give me a lot of time sleeping last night. Stupid worthless knee.
