Friends, it’s the week of a major holiday in the US. Christmas is 5 weeks away. Idiots run amok acting as plague rats all over the world. Etc, etc, etc.
So. we are having a complaint post. Whine, rant, bitch, complain, rage, whatever verb suits your fancy here.
If you haven’t participated in a complaint post (also known as “whhiiiinnnneee with me post” in the past), here’s the rules –
- You post a complaint in the comments. It can be something specific to your life, something annoying you in general, etc.
- We commiserate with the complaints.
- This is not oppression olympics, there’s no requirements that a complaint a “big” complaint, it just needs to be something you’re annoyed with.
I’ll start. If I spill food with oil in it one more fucking time onto shirts this week, so fucking help me I will flip my shit. I don’t have that many shirts that fit (THANKS 2020 FOR BEING A DOUCHE) and I did not need to oil-stain 3 of them right on the boob area. It will eventually wash out but so fricking annoying.
Also, why is Christmas shopping so fucking hard this year????? I buy gifts for only like 6 people and jesus fuck I have no clue what to get for any of them.
I have had to relegate a number of my shirts to “sleep shirt” status due to my complete inability to eat like a human being. So, I very much empathize with your complaint.
I fucking hate terrible parents. You know the ones. The people who operate by the notion that the entire world is their babysitter. So, their little hellions are either screaming bloody murder, or running around and breaking shit, or just generally making everyone around them miserable, or all three at the same time. While all this is taking place, the “parent” is blithely ignoring the 3-foot tall terrorist that they brought with them, and expecting everyone else to just suck it up. You know what? Fuck you. Teach your fucking brat some goddamned manners. THAT is what good parenting looks like.
I was at Target this morning and someone left their shorter-than-the-cart kid standing there with the cart while they walked off to who the fuck knows where. That also annoys the hell out of me.
Also your post made me think of the running gag in Mallrats about kids who don’t respect the escalator.
I have a shirt that seems to like salsa more than my mouth somehow. And it’s always the good salsa, too. Fucking made from scratch, authentic Oaxacan goodness. Always on the goddamn shirt.
Try treating the area with dish soap – like Dawn. Then wash – that should pull some of the oil out – don’t dry in the dryer – that can set it. You can also try – sprinkling a little bit of baking soda on the area to lift up the oil – then wash.
Good to know, thanks!!!
My grandpa mailed me a bday card with a check in it 3 weeks ago. He only lives 10 miles away so it shouldn’t takes that long, even with the dismantling of the USPS. It finally showed up yesterday with a “postage due” envelope (30 cents) and a sorry we missed you sticker. They “tried to deliver” it yesterday , which… They did deliver it but also I was home??? I actually saw the mail lady come to my building. Why do they do this? So now I have to see how long the 30 cents will sit in my mailbox until one of them notices it (we never have the same mail person twice).
Ungrateful people who don’t acknowledge receiving a gift. I don’t need a formal thank you card but how about a text saying thanks for the Christmas present Aunt Hannibal? Every year I say I’m not sending anything but I do. So my complaint is about myself too.
Doing things for people is bullshit.
My mom had the same complaint about the girls. We jammed them to send acknowledgments but it was grudging and not consistent. So mom eventually just stopped sending gifts and cards. You can bet the girls noticed then, but we told them it was a problem of their own making.
Good looking out for your mom. She don’t need that.
I hate when people can’t at least bother to text you that they got your gift. I have a friend who I had to stop mailing birthday gifts to her kids because she never acknowledged them. For me it’s not so much not getting a thank you, I just get incredibly stressed out about whether or not the package arrived. So then I have to ask and then it seems like I’m fishing for a thank you. It’s an awkwardness nightmare for me.
Exactly!
Yes! I’m always worried the damn package got lost in the mail or something!
Dude, just go to Zazzle and make everyone personalized cheesetastic masks. It’ll be so 2020.
I have the same complaint as always – I work for right-wing yoyos who are much less bright than they think they are, who hate to cooperate or be helpful, and who see conspiracies everywhere and refuse to wear masks despite the local mandate, and my brain is going into hypershock and atrophy at the same time just being there, and the job market is TERRIBLE right now and it just seems like it will never end. It’s 7pm and I want to go to bed already because I know I have to leave for that hellhole in 12 hours and it’s crushing my soul.
I feel for you k2b.
Thx bud. I feel for me too because this whole thing is like an out of body experience at this point.
I’m just sick of 45 & anyone that supports him or makes excuses for him! I can’t stand family members or anyone that voted for that fucker!
omg that sammich is exactly as gross as he is and it’s perfect. Can we Kickstart that island thing?
I’m so over feeling exhausted and hyperalert at the same time, waiting for January 20th. I am tired of consistent 50-hours work weeks, and then feeling guilty for being grumpy about it because I know that I should be grateful to have a good job. And seriously, I too should probably eat with a bib on, based on the frequency of spillage. Grrrrr.
It’s peak American Capitalism to be like “you should be grateful to only work 50+ hours a week because at least you have a job during a pandemic!!!!!”
I too, drop food on my shirt pretty much anytime I eat anything. It’s incredibly annoying.
My complaint is just having to go to work tomorrow. I’m tired of having to pretend I’m a functioning adult. Please just leave me alone and let me sleep all day.
I took off Wednesday and Friday this week with the intent of doing just that. But now I have a job interview Wednesday morning, which is awesome.
It also means I’m gonna take a multi-hour nap after that interview because I just wanna hibernate for a while!
Good luck with the interview.
Thank you! I would be going from a job with being on-call literally every day and weekend to being on-call basically never, so I am very excited about the job!
Good luck! I hope it goes really well!
ALSO LIKE 6 HOURS AGO I DROPPED MY CELL PHONE AND IT SHATTERED THE SCREEN so I had to go buy a new phone (shattered one was very old and on its last leg already, but still) and deal with setting up my apps and remembering/resetting all my damn passwords again. Grrrrr.
Phone bullshit is very bad bullshit.
I got most of the apps figured out. I need to download and sign into the ones I use rarely like cashapp, American Airlines, etc.
I see you’ve found Alexander Graham Bell’s diary.
For the past month or so, I seem to have an issue where a couple drips of coffee end up on my pants. Almost always on my lap. Not cool.
Sounds to me like the ideal Christmas present for everyone this year is a three (or five or ten) pack of plain black T shirts.
Works for me.
We talking V necks or crew necks?
ugh…its fucking monday….the laces on me workboots just snapped…coz of fucking course they did…and the batterys in me bike light fucking died
im gonna get killed on my way to work now
welp…at least im going out on a fucking monday
(whine whine mope mope)
@Farscythe, you can always whine and mope here among your friends! (Hugs).
…I don’t know if it makes sense as a complaint on account of not really wanting to appoint myself as the one to dole them out…so I guess really I’m just bitching about it?
…but I’m sick & tired of malignant idiots begging to get smacked in the mouth while getting away with egregious bullshit…from anti-vaxxers to trump-ettes, MAGAssholes & their ilk all the way up through their various political figureheads to the man-child-in-chief
…I know it’s wrong & all…but some days it just feels like pretending there’s any kind of genuine debate to be had with these people that doesn’t devolve into their trying to twist others’ principles (not to mention the actual having of the things) into a handicap just makes me want to give them a taste of their own medicine the way that someone did for richard spencer that one time
…so I guess my complaint is about it not being okay to kick a little ass when there are so damn many asses begging for a well-deserved kicking?
This is me, all day long. If you need it explained to you that even committing a crime does not give the cops a pass to kill black people in the street, that “personal responsibility” is not just for other people and public safety is not slavery, that demonstrating the purest form of narcissism is not good leadership, what’s the fucking point talking to you anyway?
@SplinterRIP, if you do have it – if provoked beyond restraint – I’d be first in line to contribute to your Go Fund Me for bail money!
…that’s much appreciated @elliecoo
…I’ll try not to let it go to my head…but it’s good to know?
I’m so tired of not being able to enjoy food without worrying if it’s going to make me sick/in pain* Today was BabySmacks’ birthday and I had a teeny piece of his death-by-chocolate cake and I was cringing with every bite, just waiting for the pain to hit. Dinner was ok… I had a small piece of steak, green beans, and roasted potatoes, but adding the cake did me in. It’s 2am, 4 hours after I had the cake, and my belly still hurts so much I can’t sleep. I hates it!
The worst part is, it’s totally inconsistent. I can eat anything one day, and the next day, even water will hurt. A piece of toast with a tiny schmear of low-fat cream cheese is fine one morning, but another day the exact same thing will leave me curled in misery for hours. It just isn’t fair 🙁
*I had my gallbladder out years ago and never had any problems… until this summer. I now get horrible, stabbing, am-I-going-to-actually-die-from-this pain in my upper right abdomen any time I eat something greasy or fatty. And I don’t mean just like a giant cheeseburger or something, I mean, like, anything with more than 6-10 grams of fat in it, and sometimes not even that much. I’m told it’s a problem with my Sphincter of Oddi (something to do with the release of bile) and that there’s not much that can be done about it.
…that sounds more than unfair…hope it relents…& meanwhile I’m sure I’m not the only one offering much sympathy in your direction
I’m tired of having to convince people that DOING THE WORK IS WHAT MAKES YOUR PAYCHECK POSSIBLE.
I’m talking just showing up reasonably on time and not fucking off every time your teammates start to get swamped. If you refuse to do even the bare goddamn minimum I don’t want to hear “where’s my bonus”. It’s like expecting a hand job after doing dishes the first time in 2020 yesterday.
I think that this attitude may stem from the prevalence of the participation trophy that emerged in peewee sports in the 1980s.
This is late and I wasn’t going to chime in but I will.
I have excellent health insurance, thanks to The Better Half. Important background if you’re an American.
A while ago I was having excruciating pain in my left foot. I went to my usual doctor, who seemed to be taking more and more patients. After four doctor visits (two with a nurse practitioner), and two sonogram appointments (“Well, the good news is you don’t have blood clots!” “Blood clots? Why would I have blood clots?”) I was finally referred to an orthopedist. Mind you, this is my fault, the doctor is in my old neighborhood and I’ve been in the practice for almost 25 years. Getting to all this in the old neighborhood was not fun, to say the least.
I went to the orthopedist, had a follow-up appointment, and finally he said, “I want you to see a physical therapist. It’ll probably be three times a week for six weeks. I’ll write you out the referral. See whoever you want but make sure they take your insurance. It can get very expensive.”
What was this mystery ailment? Tendin-fucking-itis. You know, like tennis elbow, except for me in the foot? Something that’s less common than high blood pressure but not exactly unknown?
Coincidentally the orthopedist said it might be advisable to have surgery. For tendon-fucking-itis. I called one of my sisters because we were having a big family reunion, and she was going to host the whole shebang and I was going to stay with her family, and I said, “I’m not going to be very mobile but I’m going to put off the surgery if the PT recommends it. So I’ll be there.”
More coincidence, I have college friends in the area and when I come to town they organize a reunion for themselves and I am the catalyst. I got talking about “My Left Foot,” not the movie, my own left foot, and one said, “Oh, I had that. Are you doing your exercises?” And she showed me.
I did those. No 3X weekly PT, it went away within a week…I don’t know if they were milking the insurance (and it wasn’t free for me, there were various co-pays that probably added up to $300 or $400; without health insurance this would have been in the five-figure range) or whether they were being super-diligent. Being New York, I suspect grifting and payback favors were involved.
Anyway, I left that practice and vowed to look around for something more local. I put it off, put it off…then COVID-19 hit.
I finally got a new doctor whose facility I can see from my living room windows and I’m heading there in a couple of hours. I’m sure he’s going to be horrified. I’m honest about how much I drink and what and how much I eat and how I haven’t been to a gym since my freshman year of college, but so be it.
Or he will be as charmed by you as are we all, and find you to be in the pink of health!
Late to the party, but I have a ruptured disk in my spine. First happened about 10 years ago. As is my custom, I opt for the least invasive treatment first, much to the dismay of my current doctors (they all zoom straight to back surgery). I was doing my physical therapy exercises and my wife looked at me. “You know that’s yoga, right?” “Uh, no, I was not aware.”
Switched to a weekly yoga class at a fraction of the co-pay cost for physical therapy. No back issues since, as long as I’m careful and don’t lift more than about 20 lbs.