Friday, January 23, 2009

I Like To Think I'm Satisfied

I like to think I'm a satisfied person. You know, personally. That life is good. (my life anyway) I tend to be an A-type personality with a little B-type thrown in for good measure. That wasn't always the case. I had to work to find the B-type genes in my genetic pool.

I am fast approaching the loss of all patience with pretty much everything. And nearly everybody I come into contact with daily. I'm going to reclassify myself as a D-type personality. But I promise, I won't go postal.

It's exhausting to have a mind that won't sleep. Ever. It's exhausting to be so discouraged about so many things on a daily basis.

What happened to my rose colored glasses? Where and when did I misplace those?

Is there a lost and found for misplaced satisfaction?

From the worst meal EVER in a restaurant the other day ... hostess, waitress, cook, manager, cleanliness .... EU. A totally free $75.00 tab. I left a tip for a waitress who needs waitressing lessons, but at least she was smiling all the while. And trying. Not successfully, but the effort was there. The manager arrived at the table, looked at us, flipped her long blond tresses back, as if she were eighteen again,waved her hand somewhere in the vicinity of the table and said, "The meal's on me. I'll take care of the tab." Then she promptly stomped off the next dissatisfied group.

Restaurant XYZ won't be seeing me again. I mean it this time.

They'll be no more putting my foot down and then picking it up again. No sirree!

There was the perfectly horrible chocolate shake at Wendy's. "What can you do to a chocolate shake at Wendy's?" you ask. Huh. Do not buy one at the Endicott Street store any time soon.

There are the teachers who are 'in good faith' negotiating a contract with the school committee. Yeah, okay. Let me hear you whine one more time about not getting enough of a raise. Why don't you be me? Or the other umpteen public employees who will be getting no raise next fiscal year and probably the year after that. Been there. Done that. Gonna be doing it again.

1% COLA not enough for you? Stamp your feet.

Tell that to the unemployed teachers who are looking for a job. Wah. Better yet. Resign. Go find another job. One that will put up with your whining and fussing. Really. You won't be missed.

These teachers are better compensated than most. How does $63,000.00 base sound to you? One or two extra duty assignments a year? Slush funds for many departments? A beautiful 54 million dollar building? The best of the best of the best.

That's not good enough for you? Nor is the 85% of your health insurance premium paid by the town while the rest of the public employees have only 66% paid. Oh, and let's not forget when you retire you will maintain that level of insurance cost. 85% town, 15% retiree. The rest of us? 50%/50%. Huh. Whine some more.

And then, when you are done whining about all of that ... tell me ... that you will not involve the students in your negotiations ... after you hand out fliers to them on their way into school. Oh, yes. I'm dissatisfied with that too. When you've finished all your maneuvers and they still haven't worked, throw in that you won't volunteer to work with the senior interns this year.

That's not involving the students at all. You call yourself educators? Let me just throw this out: You aren't educators. You are the new version of terrorist. At the worst possible time ... economic downturn ... be dammed ... you want your money and you want it now.

Get a clue. We'd all like some more money just now.

How about movies? If I see one more let down movie, I'm going to stop going. Romantic comedies with actors that have no idea what romantic comedy is. Oh wait ... that could be the director. Previously good actors, even some great, wasting their time (and mine) on story lines that could be fun and charming and water cooler talk, but aren't ... what is wrong with them?

Me? I'm going back to old black and white films. When actors could act and directors could direct and it didn't take a mortgage payment to go to the theater.

Caroline Kennedy? What a buffoon! Really. What was she thinking? Do I need to say more?

There are two-faced co-workers who might have been friends ... but not in this life time, I'll tell you. Promises made, promises broken. You don't have to talk behind my back about me, but it's okay if you do. I have broad shoulders. But you should never, ever, talk about my family behind my back. You don't even know them. How dare you.

The dentist? The one who charged me an arm, leg and $2000.00 who can't seem to get my gum to heal? Yeah. I'm dissatisfied with that. Big time. I'm tired of brushing, flossing, rinsing to no avail. An appointment a week. Really. What a screw up this has been.

Ah, to hell with it. I like to think I'm a satisfied person, but I can no longer find satisfied. In my mind, my heart, my daily life.

So, I'll just fess up. I'm not satisfied. Not even with the dammed burrito I purchased tonight on my way home ... at my favorite little Mexican place. It just sucked.

Yeah, go ahead folks, call me dissatisfied. Aren't we all sometimes? I'm just afraid this is going to become my permanent me.

Then, on top of it all, I'll be dissatisfied with that.


Donna said...

You know what? You're RIGHT ON with those rants!

Sometimes it just feels good to vent, too.

Fleecenik Farm said...

It is okay to be dissatisfied. It is the winter of discontent. With so much uncertainty there should be a few good things we should be able to rely on: a good burrito, a good movie and a good milk shake. Dammit!

Lisa :-] said...

I thought you said you WEREN'T going to go postal... :D

Personally, K, I think the mouth pain is making you cranky. I've been there and done that, and it makes everything in your life suck when your mouth is fouled up.

We love ya, dear. Vent away!

Debra said...

dudette! love the flamigo on yer banner! you artiste you!! grins, debra doodle

MyMaracas said...

Hey, sounds like you gotta right to rant. And where better than in one's own blog? I have no fear that you'll become a permanent malcontent. As my mom used to say, you're just going through a phase. This too shall pass.