Thunderstorms, bitches! We had snow this weekend, 60 degrees and sun yesterday, and thunder and lightning now. This is the most bizarre winter ever.
Work was quite productive until I spent that last 5 minutes of my day being screamed at by a completely irrational and utterly idiotic frat mom. I won’t go into the details of her rant, because it really was pointless inanity. The whole call only lasted 5 minutes because after she accused me eleven times (no joke – I counted) of being unethical and unfair to her criminal little snowflake, and asking me four times how I sleep at night, I told her to get over her persecution complex and call her lawyer if she really believes we’re so criminal, and excused myself to go take a nap. Then I hung up on her. It was glorious.
See, the level of stupid that plagues the parents of today’s college students is no laughing matter. Unless of course you’re trolling the shit out of them, and then it’s hilarious.
My sister is also friggin’ hilarious, but not for the reasons she thinks.
She called me at home last week to get my address so that she could mail me some paperwork. What should have been a 3 minute phone call was a 10 minute spelling quiz on my part.
“How do you spell your street?”
“A as in apple. N as is Nancy. T as in Thomas. O, as in OH MY GOD WHY CAN’T YOU SPELL A 5 LETTER WORD?!?”
*Sister cracks up at my frustration* “Okay, now how do you spell the city? Pittsburg?”
“That’s what I said – Pittsburgh. Spell it.”
“FITCHBURG. F, as in fuck! I, as in I don’t know how we were possibly spawned from the same parents! T, as in Thomas. C, as in cat. H, as in How did you survive this long? B, as in Boy. U, as in You have got to be kidding me. R, as in rabbit. G, as in God Dammit, why don’t you have this written down somewhere?!?”
*Sister laughs maniacally, and I’d swear she were doing it on purpose if I didn’t know any better* “Okay, now what’s the abbreviation for Wisconsin?”
“… W-I. How do you not know that?”
“I’ve never been there, so I never cared.”
“Okay, I give up.”
She’s not stupid, she just allocates the parts of her brain which should store addresses for other stuff, apparently. Because she called me at work yesterday as she was standing in the post office because she couldn’t remember my address. (Forgive me a moment while I facepalm for the Nth time in 10 minutes…) So I got to go through the whole process again.
When I was finished, I asked her, “Damn, do you need me to spell my last name too?”
“Are we even related?”
I wish this were an isolated incident, but I have a whole list of this shit from every single member of my family. We really do put the fun in dysfunctional.