I am so over pollen

In honor of being home sick with some sort of sinus almost-infection, I am going to indulge in a rant. If you don't care to read, you can hit "Next Blog" at the top of the page, and I won't be offended. I promise.

You have been warned.

I am so over pollen.
I am so over mold that grows inside and outside.
I am so over everything that makes me sneeze and makes me feel like I am hearing/seeing/feeling things in a tunnel.

I am so over my closer-to-five-than-four-year-old not pooping on the potty. And my husband's attitude toward it, which will probably send my son to therapy and me back to therapy with him. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but I was hoping not to fuck my kids up this early on.

I am so over my job and the silent treatment from certain members of my team, who would prefer that I find commas and misplaced modifiers and leave the thinking to them, since they are so superior and learned and have been at the company so much longer than me. Know what? Just because it's the way it's always been doesn't mean it's right.

I am so over QCing test migrations, which is even more brainless than finding comma faults.

And I am ETERNALLY over the pimp getting $13 for every hour I work, for doing nothing except getting me the job nearly two years ago.

I am over the politicking that permeates this city, the people who don't want to look at you if you don't have a master's degree or top-secret security clearance.

I miss my writing circle and having the time to write. It is unbelievably frustrating to be stuck at a desk for seven hours a day, keys under your fingers, and not write.

I am over the dirty-borderline-disgusting bathrooms in our house that no one will clean except for me. Hint: wiping down the vanity with a baby wipe does not count as cleaning.

I am so over my hip and my body not letting me run the distances I used to be able to run.

I am so over hipsters who come up with new words like "fupa," giving me yet another thing to obsess over.

I am over soccer practice, dance recitals, and dinosaur songs. I'm over cooking things within my points allowance, eating lettuce twice a day, and getting my 60 minutes in because the ACE says I should.

I am over American Idol running long and my DVR cutting off the end of Glee,
Assholes in pick-up trucks in Reston who curse at me for accidentally rolling forward while trying to reverse up a hill,
Dreams where I have to watch my mother die again,
Stupid kids' shows
dirty laundry
punctuation
diet soda
grass clippings
people who jet to italy for business meetings
taking vacations that aren't vacations
and this rant.

Now why don't I feel better?