One More Mommy

Thoughts of a mom and her husband, son, daughter, pets, friends, job (or lack thereof), house, family, trying to be more ecologically aware...

Thursday, August 31, 2006

And You Just Thought it was "Thursday"

Five years ago today, I met Esposo for the first time. We went to Dave and Buster's - an arcade place with drinks - whipped some horses, and he displayed his complete inability to talk on a first date. This after he told me in emails that he didn't ever shut up. I thought we'd be friends. It wasn't until the second date that I got a kiss and my mind changed!

Today also marks the end of the first trimester in this pregnancy. I would like to sign up for the magic cessation of all morning sickness and the return of energy all associated with the second trimester. I'm not sure I got in line early enough for these things, though, because I seem to be as tired as ever.

Three weeks from today will be the end of my employment here at the company I have never named. I'm really looking forward to that.

So, go about your Thursdays.

Wednesday, August 30, 2006

Old Dog

Did you ever have an old dog? You know, the dog that just laid at your feet at night, and when you took it for a walk it had a set distance it wanted to go and then was ready for home, a nap, and some belly scratching? Did you ever bring a puppy to play with your old dog? And the puppy leapt about, nipping the old dog’s face, rolling, tumbling, and excessively excited to !!be!! !!alive!! After a few minutes of putting up with this, the old dog snaps at the puppy and gets up and walks away, because GOOD GOD with the exuberance, LAY OFF.

I am that old dog at work right now. We have NG (New Guy) and NC (New Chickie – PC I am not) and they are !just! !so! !eager! to point out what we should be doing and how to improve and they’re going to take over the world, you know, and right all the wrongs, and everything will be span-diffy-fabulous.

I may bite them.

I used to be that excited about this job, and convinced I would make everything the bestest-estest-est. And so I was disillusioned and so shall they be disillusioned. And my goal is to pretty much try not to bite them in the next 22 days (ten of which I will be at work).

Golly Gee

The end is in sight, the end is in sight! I finally have a last day here at work - September 21st. Since I'm only working three days per week, that means I'm looking at 10 more days of waking up and coming here, the source of all my bitterness at corporate life.

I'm eager to start up my at-home life, full of painting and decorating, remodeling, cleaning, and bargain hunting. I was so busy this past weekend - all four days, mind you - that coming to work yesterday merely interrupted all my goals. The biggest goal I have right now is turning the guest room into a playroom for Luke. Eventually, it will be his bedroom, but I'm trying to simply get it to a functional playroom level first. Then we can break out all the toys that my mother saved from my brothers and my childhood. Because she's already brought them to my house.

Friday, August 25, 2006

One Bad Day

I had a helluva a bad day yesterday. Morning Sickness took over, I threw up a few times and felt awful All. Day. Long. I left work at 8:30, after only being there an hour, because I was retching into my keyboard and even walking around wasn't helping my stomach. I was supposed to go to a dinner making event (you make 12 meals in a coupld hours and freeze them for future use) last night with my moms group, but facing food was just too much to bear.

They made my meals and brought them to my house last night. As I told the delivering mom where I lived, I thanked her and she said 'It's no big deal', and I finally came up with a response that I think expressed that I was really grateful for what they were doing for me. 'It's a big deal to me.' It wasn't something they had to do, at all. It made me feel really good.

I spent most of yesterday reading. In the book I was reading (One Thousand White Women, which is pure fiction, and in the preface the author basically has to shout this, because many people apparently believe it is true!) there are pregnant women. A lot of them. And there is no mention of any of them suffering from morning sickness in the early months. Since I was fairly incapacitated by morning sickness yesterday, this ticked me off. A lot.

I'm getting more annoyed by books. Did I mention the book about internet dating (which, uh, is how I met Esposo) and the woman describes her bad dates (excellent fodder for a book, I agree!) but ends up with someone she met through an acquaintance? I was bitter the author chose the standard route, because the book is ABOUT internet dating. Gah.

Thursday, August 24, 2006

Happy Friday!

Whoo! Friday! Okay, well, it's Friday for me since I only work three days a week. Before you get annoyed with me, let me point out that I threw up this morning, and then on the way to work my stomach grumbled angrily about being so empty. I yelled at it as if it were a spoiled child - "Well, YOU'RE the one who had to throw up!" I just had some pop tarts. I don't think this was the wiseest choice, but then, I don't think there's a good choice no matter what.

I have misplaced my wedding ring. Actually, I know exactly where I placed it - with my engagement ring on the kitchen table last night. This morning only my engagement ring sat there, and I assume that the cats batted the wedding ring off the table onto the filthy nether regions of my floor. Crap.

Tremendous storms ripped through the area this morning, making it impossible for me to sleep. The lightning was so bright and the thunder so loud that I had to get up. And since I don't take showers in the midst of thunderstorms - for what I think are obvious reasons - I had to mill about the house and try to amuse myself. I tried to avoid the computer for awhile, since that's also bad to be on with storms, but I gave up and surfed anyway.

Now, onto a riveting day dealing with NG.

Wednesday, August 23, 2006

This is Wednesday

The astronomers are gearing up for a big, nasty fight about whether or not Pluto is a planet, and what to call it. I laughed myself silly reading the article, because people can be so PASSIONATE about such diverse things. And passion is a good thing, really it is, but the ANGER and the brewing TRAUMA, and the RIFTS that will form because of this. Because of what to call a hunk of rock far far far far away from us. It's absurd, it is.

But no less absurd thatn what inflames me, I suppose.

We have a New Guy (NG) here at work, who is quite passionate about telling me what they did at his previous companies. We should put in some load cells and in line check weighers, and he's spending thousands upon thousands of plant dollars in his technological quest to upgrade us into bankruptcy. He doesn't yet know the monetary climate of our plant, but he's already got suggestions. Screw the monetary climate, he doesn't even know HOW we do everything and he's got suggestions. I find him pushy and annoying and I've spent maybe three hours total with him.

In Luke news, this past weekend I was able to get him to lay down in the tub to rinse off his hair. Last night when Esposo gave him a bath, he repeatedly laid down in the water, and even flipped over, putting his face under water and not breathing in. While he doesn't want us to hold him in a pool, he's certainly not afraid of the water!!

Tuesday, August 22, 2006


Each night I lie in bed and think of the things that I should write about. By the next morning, everything has escaped me and I’m left feeling a little bereft of writing material. Instead of writing out entries in my head last night, though, I made a simple list, and that seems to have stuck with me better.

My cat, he is crazy. This would be Simba, the thinner, orange cat. Simba isn’t a lap cat. Where Moxy will curl up on your should and knead your neck with his claws (and he is unperturbed no matter how many times you throw him off), Simba prefers to lay in the doorway of the room, so he can run if you decide to get up. He is friendly at night, though, when he will walk up your body and sniff your face to see if you’re still alive. You’d think he’d be able to tell that by the swearing because a fourteen pound cat has footsteps of 800 pounds when they walk on your back.

Yesterday I sat in the family room and heard ‘Th-thump’ ‘Th-thump’ ‘Th-thump’ from the direction of the kitchen. Since ignoring such noises will lead to destruction on a mass scale if you’re not careful, I got up to investigate, and found Simba jumping at the door to the garage. I obligingly let him out into the garage to explore to his little heart’s content. Several hours later, I opened the door to see if he wanted to come back in, and he hissed angrily at me, though he darted through the open door in a flash, so pissed that he did, in fact, want to come back.

Morning sickness continues to plague me, and last night was no different. I had a healthy dinner of mashed potatoes, and when Esposo came home, I begged him to go on an ice cream quest. With Luke and I on opposite ends of the table, flanking Esposo, I began to sign and say “Please”. Because Luke is at the mimicking point, he followed suit, giggling hysterically with each ‘No!’ Esposo issued, followed by my please and finally Luke’s.

Luke loves nothing more than when we interact as a family. He loves to interact with each of us individually, but when we’re all together and playing, he is even more ecstatic.

My brain has shut down now. Beep.

Thursday, August 17, 2006

Daily Panic Dose

Okay, today I was the recipient of a link to "Harmful Chemicals in Baby Products", which told me of dangers lurking in my son's soap, shampoo, lotions, and sunscreen. We only use Johnson's No More Tears (go ahead, tell me how it will cause my son to grow a third eye, because then I'll put him in a freak show and RAKE IN THE DOUGH!), no lotions, shampoo, blah blah.

The biggest problem I had with the list was that half the chemicals listed as 'harmful' in the sunscreens were, in fact, the active ingredients in the sunscreens - you know, the ones preventing sunburn and cancer and all that.

I get really tired of these articles with the latest findings or determinations. I know consumer watchdog groups are good and all, but most of the time they just get on my nerves. Maybe it's too many years in manufacturing, and actually dealing with the FDA. Sure, they prevented thalidomide from being prescribed in the US, but when I deal with them it's a lot of "You didn't cross this t" crap.

Last week two articles came out on the same day - one saying that even babies were getting obese, and a second saying that children observing their mothers dieting are permanenty effed in the head with realation to food (I paraphrase). The only interesting article I've seen on the obesity epidemic was a recent Tribune story about urban areas where there are no accessible grocery stores with fresh food. Now THAT hit a point. Whenever I see articles saying "TV bad, exercise good" or some variation thereof, I wonder how I get funding to perform these studies, because they're all about stating the obvious, and I'm pretty dang good at that.

And by the way - my house isn't cleaner because the studies have found that having too clean a house causes increases in asthma and allergies. See how I work those articles to my advantage there?

Wednesday, August 16, 2006


I love quotes. I once sat down with a book of quotes and just copied out my favorite ones to carry with me. So many people say things so much better than I do. This morning I found a new quote in the paper:

Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one’s lifetime.
-Mark Twain

One Day at the Park

You might think that going to the park with the kids isn’t that exciting. Usually I’d agree with you, which is why The Moms routinely have park playdates so that we can talk while the kids run around and exhaust themselves. We call this “Tuesdays in a Park” – we’re witty like that.

Yesterday we hit a new park, and had a fabulous turnout – 14 moms were there. Kids ran willy nilly and generally caused chaos. And then Alex, who’s four, had to poop. Fortunately, there was a port-a-potty at this park for such emergencies. Unfortunately, it was on fire.

You read right – the port-a-potty was burning. Alex’s mom called out ‘Call 911!’ and the Mom Posse turned – ‘Huh?’. We had a fire truck complete with sirens – they just hopped out with their tanks to put the thing out, and let us know that a roll of toilet paper had been lit in the corner.

Then the cops showed up and started asking if we saw anything. Unfortunately, because we were having a good time, not one of us saw anyone go in or out of the potty. Luke was unimpressed by the whole activity, and wouldn’t even say hello to the firemen. Dang it.

Tuesday, August 15, 2006


We spent the past weekend with three other couples, one married about 8 months less than us (but dated for much longer), one married for about two months, and one due to be married in one month (but also dating for years upon years). None of the three couples has children or impending children, so while they imbibed the alcohol and uh, other stuff, I looked on. Fortunately, I’ve gotten mostly used to not drinking since I did it so infrequently in the 15 months between giving birth and getting pregnant anyway.

One of the three couples, was, shall we say, schmoopy? I love Esposo. I think he’s got a great butt. I think he’s got a great smile, and he makes me laugh. But if I ever start calling him ‘lover’ in a non-sarcastic manner, please throw softballs at my head. The effect of schmoopiness by another couple on me is the make me decidedly UN-schmoopy. My sarcasm gets harsher to combat the sap in the air.

The non-kid-contingent had also planned for a foray to an art show. Ah yes, that’s what an 18 month old needs, art shows. Also, Esposo and I are not tremendously culturally literate. And we don’t care. We see some shows, but the King Tut exhibit? I think I’ve seen enough Egyptian relics in my lifetime. I might go if it were free. And I wasn’t trying to amuse an 18 month old.

In other news, Luke had his 18 month appointment yesterday (He’s 18 months old, did you get that yet?) and is solidly average – 50/60 percentile in height and weight, 75th in head circumference. Each time we head to the doctor for a regular visit, they provide us with a sheet that details what milestones Luke should be reaching at this time.

Like running. He should start running awkwardly soon. Or, you know, four months ago. And now he runs like a crackhead, screaming from room to room. The milestone sheets? Not so helpful. Of course, the doctor asked if he knew he shapes, and I was all, uh, I haven’t been TEACHING him his shapes. So, yeah, inadequate mommy. Maybe I should whip up some flashcards?


Tuesdays are my new Monday, and they suck just as bad as Mondays. Working part time is nice for the four days off, but by the time I return, I feel as if I've been gone for three weeks, and I really don't want to come back. On the nights before I return, I sleep uneasily, thinking of everything that needs to be done, and then I come to work to find they've 'switched out' my computer, except not really, since my laptop was locked up and they couldn't unlock it, so they put a new computer in its place that doesn't allow me to access my work email. They HAD to do this yesterday, not like the assholes could wait a day or anything. Let me point out, too, that they never call to schedule shit like this, you may be getting a new computer and not know until they show up at your desk to install it. This place is a cluster.

To exacerbate my bad mood, morning sickness is particularly fierce this morning, with much hacking and retching, which is probably because I didn't sleep well last night. Tired, as is my normal state due to the internal and external babies, I headed to bed at 8:15 last night.

First, it was dreadfully hot and stagnant in the room, so after 45 minutes or so I opened windows and asked Esposo to set up the fan in the bedroom window. I normally don't like fans - the noise and air moving over me while I sleep are bad things, but the fan worked well until 12 or 2 or 1:20 (I don't know, there wsa a two there) when the room was freezing. I woke up, very disoriented, noticed Esposo was not in the bed, and decided to go sleep elsewhere. So I ripped all the covers off the bed and was standing in the middle of the bedroom when I realized I could just TURN THE FAN OFF. So I did, and tried to remake the bed, and settled in.

At some point later, Esposo WAS in the bed, and Luke cried. I bounced up, far more awake than I am now, and went to check on him. He was laying face down (as he sleeps) and his arm was caught through the slats of the crib. I moved him over, and I swear he didn't wake or stir, just stopped crying, rubbed his back and went back to bed.

At 4ish he cried again, and this time I found him standing up, facing the wall holding onto the crib slats. I touched his back and he turned and collapsed face forward on his mattress, and continued crying. Back rubbing until he quieted...

I crawled back in bed, having about an hour or so until my alarm went off, and proceded to hit the snooze button several times. At some point I heard the tell-tale sounds of cat retching, and filed it in my head to look for and avoid cat puke when I got up. Thankfully, I did remember this and avoid.

Somebodys got a case of the Tuesdays.

Thursday, August 10, 2006

The Idiots

I work in manufacturing. Ever since January 1996, I have worked in manufacturing. That's over ten years in plants of prettiness (pharmaceutical) and scuzziness (water treatment chemicals). Now I'm somewhere in the middle.

However, my current work force - we will call them "The Manufacturer-y People" (aka the MP's) - is the least skilled of any I have ever worked with. I usually like, if not love, the MP's. They have more practical understanding of plant operations, and know more than the engineers I have worked with. If I want to know what THAT pipe carries, they probably know.

But now? The MP's have disappointed me. I've found out that they're sampling non-existent sampling ports. Which means they're getting their marching orders to sample ports A, B, and C, and even though port C isn't there, they come back with a sample from it. It's pretty impressive to pull that sample from mid-air.

Being that I work in QUALITY, I am perturbed. Highly perturbed. How much more basic can we get on the 'not getting it' front?

Peepul r krazee

The day has barely begun and already the nuttynuttynutjobs are creeping towards me. Daily I hop onto Craigslist to look for a twin race car bed for Luke's bedroom. Oh, Craigslist is a bizarre representation of society. I especially like when they start posting and accusing each other of stealing, or being mean, or when an 'expirinced nanny' is looking to watch children in the 'subburbs'. I JUDGE YOU ON YOUR SPELLING.

I also got an angry email this morning because that thing we are doing! Was it cancelled? Because I went, and no one was there!

Because, well, it's not until next month. 9 = September in month abbreviation land. It is NOT my fault that you went on the wrong day.

Wednesday, August 09, 2006


I'm really not surprised when I gain weight in pregnancy, I fully admit that I eat entirely too much ice cream. Like right now, I am plotting how I will stop for a Frosty from Wendy's on the way home today. There was a minor crisis here at work, and I screamed and flailed my arms about and -people-actually-jumped-. I mean, they took me seriously, and thought something had to be done. Rockin'. It's Frosty time, dooo doo do do.

I craved ice cream on our Boston trip, too, and forced Esposo to hunt for the ice cream because he kept FOILING my ice cream need. We walked down Commonwealth Ave on Thursday night, for a very. long. way. after eating nachos at the Sunset Grill. I was full, but craved the ice cream. I had seen ice cream places (Baskin Robbins, I believe) on the way TO Fenway Park, and presumed we would follow the same route home. When we returned on the opposite side of the street, I assumed that was the side out car was on, or Esposo had a plan, as I had mentioned the ice cream need. Turns out, he just wanted to walk on the other side of the street. WHERE THERE WERE NO ICE CREAM STORES. I was VERY disappointed and also queasy and I went home and threw up some. Thank you, baby. By that, I mean the one growing inside me.

All day Friday I STILL got no ice cream, and it wasn't until we were driving out the the rehearsal dinner that we finally stopped at a Wendy's for a Frosty. And they asked us if we wanted vanilla or chocolate.

Huh? We only have CHOCOLATE Frostys here in the Midwest, and I thought that was the whole definition of a Frosty - that it be chocolate. What's with the VANILLA Frosty, eh?


I have odd memories, and I don't know why the ones I have stick with me. I remember being in my senior AP English class, which was taught by a retiring teacher who had, apparently, not lost his idealism. Or maybe he was revisiting idealism because he was retiring. In any case, he kept trying to inspire us to have deep conversations in class, and would assign two page papers in a whim like manner, as if the idea just struck him, and he thought we would ENJOY these thought provoking papers, because we were SENIORS! And in an AP class! When really, no one gave a shit, because, dude, we were seniors.

It would be interesting to be in that class now, and maybe I WOULD enjoy thinking and writing about things just to think and write about them. But alas, we can't go back to high school.

One day we discussed winning the lottery, and he talked about people who won the lottery who bought enormous homes and went bankrupt. Why, he asked, would that happen? Even at 17, I jumped in with "Taxes! And maintenance!" while the rest of the class drooled unconsciously.

I've always been too danm AWARE of money and how the world is intent on TAKING IT FROM YOU. So I read Sundry's post at ClubMom about 'What to do if you won the lottery?' and thought about it myself.

I think Esposo would want to move, but I'd rather fix up our house. Redo the kitchen, finish the basement, etc. Pay off the mortgage. Put money in an account for Luke's college. And then live as we are now, but with less stress. And possibly first class airfare when travelling.

Survival Instinct

Babies are supposed to have a survival instinct in their drool filled heads. I remember seeing some psychology show where they made a visual drop off and had moms encouraging their babies to crawl over a perceived cliff. The babies were all 'Eff off, woman!' and wouldn't crawl over the "cliff".

During toddlerhood, the child is intent on testing YOUR survival instincts, as in, lets see if she notices THIS. I can't tell you how many children I see at the park on climbing structures with one foot dangling precariously in mid-air as they look at their mothers "Hey, Ma, ya see what I'm doing??"

Luke is not only an energetic and confident child, he's an independent child. I sat at the park yesterday with another mom who's son played happily in front of us, while Luke ran to the other side of the playground. He had a bowl of rice Chex, and mommy tends to eat his snacks, so he could have been protecting his food, too. After he finished eating he approached a group of three 4-5 year old girls and began placing his empty bowl on his head to amuse them.

Then he tried to run into the parking lot.

SO, we moved on home. We'd been at the park an HOUR and a HALF. Which is a long freaking time. He ran a lot of that time. I thought he'd be tired by then.

Instead, when I went to sit on the couch - and I'm still not sure how he did this - he managed to dart between my legs and the couch seat and start climbing up. Which meant that I was GOING TO SIT ON HIS HEAD. I began flailing about, arching my back and desperately attempting to reverse the sitting down process. And while I didn't sit on him, I did smack my arm hard on some non-soft portion of the couch (I'm not sure where, because of the flailing).

No survival instinct, that kid.

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

My Boss is a Gossip

Okay, so I knew this about my boss. If she has information, it comes our way, even if it's somewhat inappropriate, or old, or in the middle of an important meeting. She will tell us most anything, and that goes for everyone else, apparently, as suddenly everyone knows I'm pregnant here.

Which is fine, I guess, but still weird. I actually somewhat prefer it to having to tell everyone myself, because that gets awkward: "So, um, I got myself knocked up again!", and even now, I landed in a conversation with a well-wisher about the age span of Luke and No-Nickname-Baby and she said it was a good age span, did we plan this, did we have help? And I desperately scrambled away from HOW I got pregnant, because I'm just not comfortable with talk of 'trying' with my coworkers, and if I say it out loud to them I'll be forced to say something like "We're just really fertile!" or "We've got it down to a science!" and then I'll have to beat my head against a wall until I lose consciousness.

nect.. dis.. con... ed

I keep trying to sit down and write something but my attention span isn’t up to forming words and making sense. We headed to Boston over the weekend, abandoning Luke at Grandma’s house. The good news is, he didn’t really notice we were gone. I suppose that’s good news, it means he loves his Grandma and feels safe and happy with her. But a FEW tears wouldn’t be so bad, huh, kid?

Morning sickness has taken over with a vengeance in my life. I’ve found that THIS baby REALLY doesn’t like nachos or Mexican or anything with cheesy, gooey goodness. I don’t think those things went over well with Luke, either, but it’s worse this time.

I’m reading Jodi Piccoult – I finished Plain Truth and My Sister’s Keeper in the past few days, and while I like her writing and the topics of her books – they’re deeper than the usual mystery types – there are glaring omissions that make me mutter and grumble. As in, why aren’t they talking to THAT person!?

Work seems interminable. I don’t know how I’ve managed to NOT quit, but my boss seems to think I’m staying through October/November – which was the date I gave when we didn’t have any new people coming in! Now we have two! Let me go! I know, the money is good, pad that bank account a bit more, and maybe we can get new windows in the house. But oh how I hate coming here.

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

The Great Choo Choo Hunt '06

Luke got a train table awhile back. He loves the train table. It's actually a train mat, because it's sitting on the floor, not on a table. My mom bought it used with a few trains, and then she added to the trains. These are, of course, the Thomas style trains.

Luke had, at one point, four engines. Murdoch is brown, James is red, a green engine (Percy), and a blue engine (Thomas). There are also assorted passenger cars, repair cars, and trasnport cars. Murdoch and James also have 'tenders'. All in all, Luke should have at leave 14 different train cars.

Except we had two. So we went on the Great Choo Choo Hunt of aught-six.

We found two in the car, one under his bed, one by the fireplace, one in the toybox. There was another wedged behind a ride-on toy. A couple were wedged into his Incrediblock. But we were still down three choo choos - The green engine, James, and Murdoch's tender.

Luke just came up to me with his Fisher Price basketball hoop, asking 'ep. Ep.', also known as 'Help'. Low and behold, wedged into the ball slot was Percy, the green engine.

Now WHY didn't I look there in the first place?


This is a test. We will see who among the unwashed masses I call friends reads my little babble-o-meter. And let me remind people, if you read this and thus know what is going on in my life, it in no way means that we are "communicating". You have to say stuff for that to happen.

I am about nine weeks pregnant now! I am excited, I am not gaining as much weight as with Luke, and yet my first pair of pants didn't fit this morning. The second baby DOES pop out much sooner! Just in case you were wondering.

I've also been fairly nauseaus. Just like with Luke. Good thing this pregnancy thing is somewhat repetitive. I have, at least, figured out that eating meat helps keep me from feeling sick. Small favors, eh?

Luke and as-yet-to-be-nicknamed baby will be about 2 years and 1 month apart. We are still looking for a nickname, but when you already are chasing one, you don't have time to obsess over two. Which is a good thing, because no one needs to read as much shit as I did when I was pregnant with Luke. You will only become convinced that your child is doomed to be short, smelly, and homeless. And bitter.

In other, random complainy-ness, a bunch of people whose blogs I read went to BlogHer, a conference for people who write blogs. Their blogs are accounts of who they saw and what they did, and it makes for crappy reading. This makes me cranky. That, and the fact that we had no air in my office this morning, and I generally feel ill about 50% of the day.

Good times.

Tuesday, August 01, 2006

Phrase Quirk

If you spend a lot of time around people, you start hearing the things they say over and over again. I recently brought this up to my coworker, who adds "You know what I mean?" to her statements FREQUENTLY in conversation. I've begun responding with "Yes, I know what you mean, but..." to accentuate the repetition of the phrase.

An ex used "take and uh" until I beat him with a large stick about the head and neck so he could no longer speak. He would "take and uh" go to the store. "Take and uh" go for a bike ride. YOU'RE JUST GOING TO THE STORE.

There was the coworker who wanted to 'take a half step back' all the time. Why a half step? Why not a FULL step? Why can't we just TAKE A STEP BACK, you freaking dumbass???

Our consultant uses "See, the thing is..." 854 times in each conversation. What is the thing? Is the thing that you can't vary your language usage enough to NOT drive me batshit crazy?

I don't know what my speech quirks are, but I do try to vary things and not say the same thing over and over. Which confuses the crap out of some people because I like to choose decidedly odd ways of saying things. It's like playing with language. WHEEE!