Quote of the day :
"You can never underestimate the stupidity of the general public." – Scott Adams
A-freaking-men, Scott. Sitting with my friends at work this week, we have had numerous encounters with the “general public.” Whether it be on our lunch breaks, driving to and from work, or speaking with people on the phone, we all have had some kind of insanely frustrating experience dealing with what Scott calls, the “general public.”
I suppose, to most people who don’t know me, I am a part of their idea of the general public. Not true. To me, the general public are the people who go throughout life thinking they own it all, they rule the world, no one else is important, and why should they think any different? These people have stupid parents.
The general public seems to be the people who don’t look or signal when attempting to come over into your lane of traffic, going 70mph on the highway, during rush hour. You slam on your brakes, blare your horn, and try to hold your cool as numerous obscenities come screaming to the tip of your tongue. In these instances, there is no other option that to chill, and allow the blood to rush back through the rest of your body and leave your boiling hot face. I’ve gotten so mad, before, I literally have felt my eye balls begin to pop out of my head. Bad deal.
The general public also seems to be the people on the other end of the phone, reporting some kind of incident (I am a claims adjuster), and after speaking with you for 30 minutes, simply realize out of the blue that their vehicle’s estimate doesn’t even scratch the surface of their deductible. Their light bulb response? “Oops. Never mind, Courtney. Disregard what we talked about.” Uh, ya, alright. So glad I am able to retrieve my loss of time in my life there. Maybe I should sue you for my loss of time, dipwad! We either pay or get out of the way… the general public’s definition of a claims adjuster.
The general public, I think, are the people that leave a busy restaurant on lunch, walk to their car and sit in their vehicle and eat their lunch, as people are waiting for their parking spot. Only, for us to walk up to the door after walking a mile to get to the restaurant, we find there is an old man in his Caddi backing out of a prime spot. Awesome. Oh wait, but the people in the restaurant take the cake. There are three lines. Three. Soup. Salad. Sandwich. Pick one, folks and get your butt in line for the item you wish to consume. Duh. People wander around, look at their watches, ask stupid questions, and may as well have their finger stuck up their nose. Move your hiney! It’s all about them you know. Oh, and b/c they can’t decide want they want, they take up all three lanes, and after you have made your decision, you try and get into the correct line, slightly in front of the indecisive general public figure head, only to hear, “Uh, I was in line first.” It takes everything I have not to haul off and punch the person in the mouth; and don’t you dare think I care about gender. Dumb is dumb. Honestly, I find myself looking at them in complete disbelief with my mouth hanging open. They just look at me, shrug, and proceed to take up all three lines, only to find out when they all three counter finally open up for them, they chose to get the soup. I wanted the freaking sandwich. There should be a button on my back that says, “Push, to proceed the tearing out of your head of hair.”
This was ONLY this week. And while I was only able to mention a few tidbits of what actually happens in my world, I am sure more will come out with time. There are some that simply cannot go unnoted. To me, finally, the general public stereo type is one used for people who simply don’t use common sense. Hence (and I know there are people making fun of me utilizing that word), I am not a member of the ever growing general public. I don’t think people understand what common sense is… I mean, come on! Why would a 60+ year old woman be walking around in the Walmart meat department with her boobies her pants? Need a visual? Seriously… woman, 60+ (at least), no shirt, only brown pants, and boobies hanging to her knees, tucked in her pants… “Pssshh… what’s the need for a shirt, honey, when we can just use these pants, and this really neat elastic stuff!” She then proceeds to her closet and puts on her bright orange cowgirl boots… ok, so I just made that part up, but I didn’t think it was much more over the top, am I right? (Shutter)
People mystify me. No idea where their head is when they wake up in the morning… or afternoon… or whenever they decide to grace the normal people of this world with their ever stupefying presence.
All this to say, thank God the week is over. I am walking out of work tonight, a little bit dumber. Shouldn’t it be the other way around? Dunno.
: /
To end on a good note… I wrote a song this week. Now, all I need to do is find time for some piano playing this weekend… when? Where? Who knows.
This lard-o butt weighed herself last week, and about cried, literally, stepping off the scale. I know I can do this, I know I can. I have signed up for weight watchers again, online, as it seems more motivating to write down every single thing I eat, and have a goal of how much I can eat each week. I may attend a meeting once a month to also surround myself with other women and men who are trying to defeat the same demon I am attempting to defeat. 
My goal size, you ask? Psh… anything to keep making the scale groan every single time I step on it. I have no goal size; I do however have a goal weight. Now, whether that is truly attainable, with my family history and genes, I truly don’t give a flip. That is my goal weight. I can tell you right now, I will never starve myself. I’m too glutinous for that! Plus, I don’t think I can go a day without scarfing a monstrous bowl of ice cream, to my butt’s demise, of course.
