I almost got on my hands and knees to apologize to Mother Nature for being so smug about the nice weather we had in Southern California while the rest of the country was freezing.

Because Mother Nature made Southern California her bitch.

It rained for six days straight. There’s just no way that 8 or more inches of rain in a desert — after a prolonged drought — will absorb into the ground. Not even close. The ground was so saturated that our backyard became Lake Farrar and Gracie needed a raft to go out to pee. She decided she liked the front yard better—it must not have felt as muddy—but she would only run out fast enough to cop a quick squat and then she’d run back inside. I don’t think she did more than pee for a week. The second it stopped raining she went out and crapped in every spot in the yard.

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I just discovered The. Best. Invention. EVER. The self-checkout at Ralphs. I can walk up to this with an entire cart of groceries—including weigh-able foods like produce—and check myself out without ever having to interact with a single person. No bagger to smash my bread and eggs. No surly checker flinging my foods up the conveyor belt. I can scan my club card, use coupons and even get cash back (however, those activities increase your need to deal with an employee). Lesley’s Albertsons is ahead of the curve on this—they’ve had it for a couple of years—but I never fully appreciated it until last night. I didn’t have to pretend that the schmuck in the 15 Items or Less line, who was shopping for his family of 22, had fewer than the prescribed number of items. And then wait while he wrote a check. I didn’t have to deal with the chick paying for a six-pack of Budweiser with quarters. I scanned my items, or typed in the codes for produce, swiped my card and was in and out of there in seconds.

I already don’t have to say a word in Starbucks in the morning. By the time I’m at the front of the line, my drink is ready, I hand over my gift card, mumble a Thank You and am out the door without really having to make eye contact.

I just need to find a way to make this happen in other areas of my life.

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I’ve been interviewing interns for work and it’s making me feel like a relic. These kids come in with some mad skilz in Photoshop, Illustrator, InDesign and even Flash and Dreamweaver.

Most of the potential interns are pretty together—they come in with immaculate resumes, amazing portfolios and experience for days. But some of them can’t put a sentence together with glue and duct tape.

When I call them to set up interviews I ask for a portfolio and a résumé. I am surprised how many of them seemed shocked at the request. I don’t expect leather portfolios—just organized projects of interesting work—but some of the résumés that cross my desk are clearly an “Oh Shit. I forgot.” afterthought. There’s no rhyme or reason to work history, they are littered with misspellings and they’re missing crucial information—like their name.

When I graduated from college I sent out a gabillion résumés and cover letters. I had a good work history behind me, but my résumé was disorganized and I committed the ultimate sin—I didn’t proofread it so it had a smattering of typos. About a month after I started my job hunt, a thick envelope came in the mail. It was my résumée and cover letter (which I printed out on gray stone paper no less) marked up and returned with a lovely (anonymous) letter offering suggestions. It was the best gift I could have ever gotten.

So when I read these sloppy résumés, not just for interns but by seasoned professionals, I’m tempted to whip out my red pen and edit them. But I stop myself because I’m not sure they’ll take it as constructive criticism.

Then again, they’re coming to us for real-world experience, right?

What do you think?

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Just a quick update on my dad: He’s going to have some polyp-like things removed in a few weeks from the area between his prostate and his bladder. Sounds like a fun day, doesn’t it?! I like to comfort myself by thinking that if it were urgent the procedure would have been scheduled right away, but then I go to that dark place and get annoyed by our health care system and assume that doctors don’t really care as long as they get their cut from insurance. I hope it’s the former.

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Go check out Keely’s blog The Un Mom for more Random Tuesday Thoughts.