It is often said that the Inuit have something like 500 different words for snow. I have no idea if this is true or not; personally I have only one word for snow and it’s: pththththb!
As a business owner, homeowner, and parent, however, I can tell you that there are probably at least 1000 types of “tired.” Here’s just a few:
Toy Box Fatigue: Every night you pick up the 204 toys scattered around the house and put them in the toy box. Every morning, approximately five minutes after breakfast, it looks like you never touched the place.
Just the FAQs Ma’am: Answering the same customer question 300 times a day can produce a special kind of resignation and tiredness. It’s especially soul-draining when the answer to that question is printed in at least six different places in company literature.
Dish Wear: My all time record for keeping the kitchen clean is 5 minutes, 38 seconds. My family has this annoying habit of wanting to eat three meals a day, plus snacks and drinks.
Once More Unto the Voicemail: Trying to get in touch with contacts in other companies can be an exhausting, all-day exercise, as you: Press ‘1’ for accounts, ‘3’ for account representatives on the east coast, ‘2’ for account representatives on the east coast with names beginning with G…
Laundry Lethargy: My mother always maintained that dirty laundry bred in dark places. My hamper is always full, so I think she was on to something.
Repetitive Junk Mail Injury: If you think you get a lot of junk mail now, try running a business. In a single day, you’ll get 25 computer technology offers, 58 cheap long distance flyers, 17 office supplies catalogues, and 398 trade magazines.
Grassoline: In a typical summer, you have to mow your lawn once a week. If you have 1000 things that need doing this summer, you’ll have a hot, wet one, which means you’ll have to mow your lawn twice a day just so the mailman can find your front door. This means you won’t rid yourself of that peculiar odour blend of grass and gasoline until Christmas.
52 Pickup: There is a special kind of backache that develops after a day of bending over to pick up the items your child has pitched out of the stroller, or shopping cart. These include: the soother, a shoe, socks, sunglasses, hat, juice bottle, your shopping list, your purse, the glass jar of pickles, and the open bag of onions.
My Name Is Not Sally!! Paying your bills and making standard store purchases should be simple, right? After all, we’ve been doing this sort of thing for hundreds of years now. But no, at least once a month, someone, somewhere does something stupid to your account. The cheque you wrote for $400 is processed as being for $4000. Or your last payment date is reset to August 10, 1927, and suddenly they think you owe $45,998 in interest. Or their computer insists that the occupant at your address is one Sally Smithers, not you, even if you built your house and have been the only occupant it’s ever had. And all of it requires several days of calling, emailing, shouting, and a lot of fighting to get it fixed.
Whine Hangover: Sometimes, there is just no pleasing a child, and they spend the entire day crying, whining and fussing. By bedtime, your ears will be ringing, and nothing short of large glass of merlot will make the headache go away.
Shovelitis: Right about the time the smell of grassoline dissipates, it’s time to start shovelling snow. On the days when you absolutely have to be somewhere in a hurry, there will be a sudden flurry that dumps six inches on your driveway. If you were organized enough to shovel it out first thing in the morning, the flurry will dump twelve inches.
And that explains why I have just one word for snow.
