The Weekly Dammit, #26

Charlotte's MRI is over, done and clean (more later, because that is definitely not a dammit). My funk is gone (connection?). The Weekly Dammit is back.

Dammit #1:
Throughout the war in Iraq, the Bush administration's advice to We the People was, essentially, to not bother our pretty little heads over it and oh by the way, how about a nice shopping spree. So all this time, while I've been thinking W a doofus, an idiot, a dolt and worse, it never occurred to me that, though he never asked for anything from us, he had quietly been making his own sacrifice: He gave up golf.

Dammit #2:
I can't sign Hannah up for any of the Redwood City summer camps that her friends are going to because she won't be six until October. The camps are geared toward incoming first graders and older, but rules are rules and Hannah is still five. The lovely people at registration did suggest that I put her in one (or more!) of the Pollywogs camps. With the three- to five-year olds. Thanks, but I'm going to give our camp funds to the Cantor Arts Center again.

Dammit #3:
The Gmail blog announced this month that they've been working to get the mail to load faster. Which explains why mine takes three times longer than it used to, when signing on and when trying to refresh. Of course, I probably don't need to refresh since it will do it on its own eventually, but I like the little thrill of anticipation--maybe there will be something new! exciting! profitable! there.

Dammit #4:
Argus has taken to sleeping on our bed again.

Dammit #5:
Charlotte just washed her hands using an entire bottle of soap. While I"m happy that she takes her personal hygiene so seriously, I think that 7.5 ounces of soap might be overkill.