Of Plonkers and Cowards

What a beginning for 2013! (Happy New Year, by the way!)

I'm dealing with weird bunnies.

First, one minor thing, but one that's grating on my nerves because I was taught to not do that: one of my colleagues (always the same bloke) cannot be bothered to wipe the white board in the classroom that we share.

I asked the administrative staff if others had complained about him, and it turns out that he's morphing into a weird bloke. I told the gals in the office that I'm very tempted to write on the board "I'm not your maid" and they all approved.

Now... since I'm a silly bunny who's been taught (brainwashed?) to be discreet, I haven't done that yet, but tonight... Tonight I blew a fuse.

He'd left one side of the board (it's one of the ones on "legs" and that can rotate) full. I growled, turned it to the clean side and used that one. Before leaving, I erased my side and turned it back, and then... I read what he'd written, and there, waiting for my red pen, there was a magnificent grammar mistake - and one of my pet peeves in grammar: a decade (plural) with an apostrophe just before the "s" (as if it were a Saxon genitive).

I circled the mistake and admired my work.

I added an exclamation mark for good measure.

And I left.

Now, I'm not sure he'll notice - or he'll see his mistake - or he'll understand the message... and I felt a tad childish, but he bugs me, and so I've decided that if the board isn't clean next time, I shall write that I'm not his maid in order for him to realize that the charming man who cleans the room doesn't deal with the board (perhaps because he thinks we might need the notes for another lesson, or because it's not in his job description, or whatever. Bottom line, he's not erasing my colleague's writing; I am).

Plonker. Off my chest.

Cowards now.

My mother has a heart condition, and all her neighbours know it. What do they do about it? 

C'mon! Make a guess.

They stress her (which might well turn me into an orphan, thanks to their stupidity).

They stress her when I'm not around (one of the local twats has had his nuts half-chewed by me a few years ago, and Mother is convinced that he's afraid of me now - good for him; it shows that he's not completely stupid).

Today, one worker arrived to do some work for another neighbour, but he'd forgotten to warn her, and he took her for granted, and he may have complained to the owner of the neighbouring house about the "mean old lady".

Mother tried to phone the owner (the house is rented, and they live in another area), but the lady she reached assured her that she wasn't the owner.

Mother is going to investigate and try to find the phone number.

If it turns out that it was the correct number and the "lady" is the one I met and she lied to my mother. I'm going to turn into a nice lil' Vesuvius. Again.

Mother said she was getting used to the new house, but there are days when I wish she'd sell and move to a more civilized part of the country. She settled on a nest of nuts (and that's an insult to nuts).

If the happy cowards think they can bother my mother because she's not well and living on her own - they've got a Dru coming. I can growl on the phone and read them the riot act when I'm there - no problem at all.

I think I'm going to need a bit of training, but I think I'm done being nice.

Being nice doesn't work in today's world.