He usually gets 7-8 hours of sleep a day, it's just not enough.
Anger isn't the answer. The woman is messed up and needs help. Help her get help before she goes off the rails and hurts someone or herself.
Really... you think, "Crazy ass bitch", but how would you feel if she slipped through the cracks and offed herself... with nobody to care... nobody to empathize.
She is a human.
Sounds like a whole lotta not my fucking problem.
My duty is a hell of a lot more to safety of the foster parents, foster kids and interns who are in my actual workplace than to some fucked up bitch who stopped taking her meds.
Yeah, it's worse now than before.
For someone who has worked graveyards for. ev. er. he's got a really fucking strong internal clock. Can't break that fucker for anything.
one of my favorite guys from aces high was bigpat.
he sounds *just* like john goodman.
Hard top, baby blue.
I'll be happy to help that bitch get a proper evaluation, starting with an ambulance trip.
I'm a granny driver.
I hardly ever go above 70, usually just to pass someone, that's it.
But I DO spray tailgaters with my windshield wiper fluid then laugh at them when they have to activate their wipers and back the fuck up.
If she were grief stricken, she'd be taking that shit up with her fucking dirtbag husband, not us.
Man. I hate to disagree mom... but she is crazy. She may be talking up her symptoms but... hell... that is crazy too. Is she going for disability? I mean... what is her motive?
My guess is that she is associating us with the ruin of her life.
We're a foster care agency - she was one of our parents.
Her fucked up husband has been living with a whole second family (for years), but he made that more full time once they started having foster kids in the home.
It was an extremely short time that she was licensed before we yanked her license, removed the kids - and her husband just comes home once a month or so to get odds & ends.
I dont think she's crazy.
She's just looking for someone other than her husband to blame for her fucked up life instead of getting on with it.
Next time she walks through the door you blast her with a face full of hornet and wasp spray.
She is an imminent threat.
I totally agree that she is a threat.
I do have a letter opener, a sawed off broom handle, and a really, really heavy hole punch with a great handle to grip already, but the wasp spray is an amazing idea, and I'm buying some this weekend.
So the (wonderful, kind and smart) man I work with is absolutely convinced that she is probably a little insane, but driven to that point entirely by grief.
I don't believe that shit for a second.
I know the same story about her that he does.
Maybe she's had a rough fucking time, but everybody has their own shit to deal with.
And that's not what grief-stricken people do.
I don't feel one smidge of sympathy for her.
I did call the police one of the times she was rocking herself into oblivion at her open passenger door, she was gone before they got there.
One of the times she came in, she brought in a bowling-ball sized bag with her.
Stayed for about 10 seconds, then ran out & peeled out of the parking lot.
About half of the time, she makes it inside.
She looks like that crazy-eyed Samuel Jackson meme.
Hair all fucked up, wearing fucking wife beater t-shirt like she hasn't showered in a fucking week.
Plus, she calls twice a day.
I really fuck with her, which is very not nice, but fuck that bitch.
Anyways, I named her crazy-train.
I tell our interns as soon as they start working what their emergency exit procedures are.
I don't tell them that it's in association with this fucking freak who comes over & calls twice a day to mouth-breath.
Two of those hours are my regular drive to & from work, so technically it's just 4 extra hours.
And I'm a safe driver. <insert rainman picture here>
Not me - I mean, I guess technically, me. But I'm not talking about me this time.
There's this gal from work who hasn't been associated with us for more than 18 months.
She's trying to make it look like she's crazy, and I actually believed that for about a year, until I started really thinking about her behavior.
So first of all, she called our workplace all the time, accusing us of hacking into her home security system and watching her.
That went on for a little while.
Plus, we revoked her license a long time ago, but it's like she's pretending that didn't happen.
She comes in usually once a month behaving (sort of) like she thinks she's still associated with us.
I made our work install a handle on the inside part of the door (previously, the only way to pull the door shut was by using the tiny bolt finger-hold that you twist to engage, which was iffy).
But it's HOW she does things that is really fucking out of line.
It's like she has to build up the courage to come in.
As she approaches our lot, she slams on the brakes and peels into the lot from the road, as if she's either talking herself into coming into the lot or not successfully talking herself out of it.
She pulls forward into a space, then backs up like she's going to leave, then back into the space.
Then pulls out like she's going to leave, going as far as pulling her car to the exit, then reverses back into a parking space.
Then she gets out of the vehicle, goes around to the passenger side, opens the passenger door, leans into it, sometimes for two-three minutes, like she's hyperventilating. Then she dashes back to the driver seat and peels off.
That bitch isn't crazy, she's totally sane, and talking herself out of doing whatever stupid shit she thinks she's going to do.
It's not a lack of vehicles. He falls asleep on the way home from work. I just like my man not-dead.
I have an extensive car wish list, and none of them are mustangs.
An awful lot of VW's, though.
After watching the movie (we invited our son & his gf), we did spend a fair amount of time talking about the hot rods we've had (and wrecked or ran into the ground or gave away).
I've actually been driving the husb to work to his graveyard shift lately, which means I get home from work, drive him to work, get home just in time to go to sleep, then wake up early enough to fetch him & bring him home before going to my work. It sometimes winds up being in the car 6-7 hours a day.