Sunday, April 12, 2009

It's exhausting.

It's exhausting trying to make myself understood to teenagers. Or preteens. Or youngsters. Or anybody. Sometimes I think I'm speaking an alien language, and the people to whom I'm speaking are smiling and nodding just to humor me until I go away.

I don't even feel like going into the details. Suffice it to say that I thought I made myself clear, and Daniel thought I did not. Until I blew up, at which point I was, of course, overreacting. Because I initially did not make a clear request, so how could there be follow through?

Oh, yeah, and just ignore all those low insulin warnings and let the pump start sucking air, while you're at it.

ack. Calgon, take me away.

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