I’m sitting here relishing in my new found feelings of boredom, wondering what to do.
And then I remembered why I started blogging!
I am in a lull period at work. One of the things I’ve learnt about myself over the past two months is how much I love pressure. I love fast paced, crazy pressure work environments, its keeps me on my toes, keeps me sharp, makes me slick.
Slow days, make me lazy. My hidden procrastinator comes out in full force, and I get tired by one in the afternoon.
Speaking of pressure, I went over to visit father and mother Putz this weekend. I walk into the house, and after the customary hugs and reprisals about what a bad and mean daughter I am for moving out, they excitedly begin to babble about a new machine that was being given out at Union station. Father Putz excitedly shouts at Mumsy to get the machine so that they can demonstrate….and I sit there infected by their excitement, wondering what it could be, a new slurpy machine, a waffle maker, some other nifty gadget that ipod wanted to test out on the masses???.....Nope….it was a blood pressure machine. Turns out they were giving out blood pressure machines and my mother in her infinite wisdom, decided to scoop four of them. She was so proud of her thievery, recounting the story, expulsing her moments of fear and bravery, marveling at her bounty.
As a result Father and Mother Putz have been avidly taking their blood pressure every day, on the hour. Mother Putz who has borderline high blood pressure, is keeping a diary of her readings. She finds them erratic and much higher than my fathers. This is bothering her to no end. She attributes his low readings to his heart medication. She ponders out loud if she should start scamming some of his medication. My suggestion of a 20 min run on the thread mill is met with looks of scorn.
They make me sit down to have my blood pressure read. I am perfectly normal, thanks for asking. Then we start to chat about their intentions for the other four machines. Turns out they are making plans for doling out their machines the way people plan the distribution of assets. There are loud discussions of possible candidates, the pros and cons of the candidates personalities, past slights, scandals, a through heresy examination of each candidates medical conditions, the list is narrowed down to who is well liked and most deserving.
The Winners: My Grandmother in India, Uncle Percy (Also in India,) Uncle J (down the stree) and Auntie P ( in the states.)
The Biggest Loser: Uncle F who made it to the top 5, but was thrown out after it was remembered that twenty years ago for their wedding he gave Mother & Father Putz a milk cooker for their wedding.
These are my parents.
And then I remembered why I started blogging!
I am in a lull period at work. One of the things I’ve learnt about myself over the past two months is how much I love pressure. I love fast paced, crazy pressure work environments, its keeps me on my toes, keeps me sharp, makes me slick.
Slow days, make me lazy. My hidden procrastinator comes out in full force, and I get tired by one in the afternoon.
Speaking of pressure, I went over to visit father and mother Putz this weekend. I walk into the house, and after the customary hugs and reprisals about what a bad and mean daughter I am for moving out, they excitedly begin to babble about a new machine that was being given out at Union station. Father Putz excitedly shouts at Mumsy to get the machine so that they can demonstrate….and I sit there infected by their excitement, wondering what it could be, a new slurpy machine, a waffle maker, some other nifty gadget that ipod wanted to test out on the masses???.....Nope….it was a blood pressure machine. Turns out they were giving out blood pressure machines and my mother in her infinite wisdom, decided to scoop four of them. She was so proud of her thievery, recounting the story, expulsing her moments of fear and bravery, marveling at her bounty.
As a result Father and Mother Putz have been avidly taking their blood pressure every day, on the hour. Mother Putz who has borderline high blood pressure, is keeping a diary of her readings. She finds them erratic and much higher than my fathers. This is bothering her to no end. She attributes his low readings to his heart medication. She ponders out loud if she should start scamming some of his medication. My suggestion of a 20 min run on the thread mill is met with looks of scorn.
They make me sit down to have my blood pressure read. I am perfectly normal, thanks for asking. Then we start to chat about their intentions for the other four machines. Turns out they are making plans for doling out their machines the way people plan the distribution of assets. There are loud discussions of possible candidates, the pros and cons of the candidates personalities, past slights, scandals, a through heresy examination of each candidates medical conditions, the list is narrowed down to who is well liked and most deserving.
The Winners: My Grandmother in India, Uncle Percy (Also in India,) Uncle J (down the stree) and Auntie P ( in the states.)
The Biggest Loser: Uncle F who made it to the top 5, but was thrown out after it was remembered that twenty years ago for their wedding he gave Mother & Father Putz a milk cooker for their wedding.
These are my parents.
