Early bedtimes are a must this week

I am sore and tired and sore and tired and sore and tired and can I have another day off please?  Yesterday’s workout caught up to me this morning.  I was going to go to a 9:15 yoga class this morning, but I could barely lift my arms over my head and that would have made yoga difficult.  Also, any balancing would have been just impossible because I’m SO TIRED I can’t see straight.  John had a gig last night, and it went late, and then it went later, and then they finally took the stage, and then it was even later because Daylight Saving Time started last night, so it was 3:30 in the morning before I crawled into bed.  Stupid spring forward.  Yoga at 9:15 didn’t have a chance.

So it’s 8:15 on a Sunday night, which technically should feel like 7:15 on a Sunday night, but as far as I’m concerned it feels like midnight on a Sunday night and I really need to be sleeping.

How is this STILL a problem for me?!?

I just don’t get it.  We have lived in Oregon, on the west coast, in the Pacific time zone, for ten months now, and I STILL get thrown by the time zone difference with the east coast.  STILL.  Like, it just happened, just now, not 30 seconds ago.

I’m sitting at my work laptop, which I deliberately keep on eastern time because it’s helpful during the work day.  I don’t usually write from here, but it was on, and I’m lazy.  I’m also TIRED, which is why, when I glanced at the clock on the corner and it said 11:55pm, I thought to myself, No wonder I’m tired.  It’s MIDNIGHT.  What am I still doing up?  Yeah, NO.  It’s 9pm.  It’s not that late.  I have plenty of reasons to be tired – I’ve been up since 5:45, I haven’t been getting enough sleep lately, and I think I’m getting sick again – but it being midnight is not one of them.  BECAUSE IT’S NOT MIDNIGHT.

The nothing at the end of the week

The last two days have been…something.  Some good (I’m running more than 4 miles again – YAY – and I’m done with physical therapy – DOUBLE YAY), some sucky (my nose hurts and work has been super-stressful).

It’s Friday, and I’m going to make pasta for dinner and have a glass of wine and try to make this weekend last longer than its sad two little days.  Maybe we’ll do something festive.

I can’t make my brain do much right now.  I’m hungry and easily distracted, and John is playing the blues down the hall.  It’s great, but I keep stopping to listen and when I focus on the screen again, whatever scraps of coherent thought I had (if I had any – who can tell?) are gone.

The news is all bad.  I think I’ll go read about some dragons.

Why haven’t I learned this lesson?

You know what I hate?  I hate when I think Oh, I’ll write about that.  I’ll just jot down a note so I don’t forget, and then I DON’T jot down that note and I can’t remember what it was.  Seriously, I hate that.  Like, SO much.

I also need to stop writing about how I can’t remember things without writing them down.  LAME.

It’s a beautiful day, and I’m going to go outside for a few minutes.  Right now.  Look at me go.  Really, if this were a video, you wouldn’t be able to see me anymore.  You’d hear footsteps walking away and my voice fading as I got to the door.  The door opens, the door closes.  Silence.

Yeah, I’m going outside.

I don’t want to fight, but I’m not going to give in

Guys, I can’t deal with work.  I feel like all I’ve done for the last two weeks is work and sleep (and complain about work).  That’s not entirely true (I didn’t work last weekend), but it’s mostly true, and I am worn out.  AND I’m still working.  I’ve spent the last two hours arguing with someone who wants to skip a safeguard before a software update, and I’m not going to let him.  We’re arguing over email which makes it even more frustrating.  He is clearly very angry with me now and has just petulantly thrown in the towel (I think).

I’m so very very tired of this.  These last two weeks have been awful, and that was without any fighting.  This, arguing with someone over something so stupid and yet so important, at the very end of a long day, is not what I need.

People suck.  Not you.  Everyone else.

My doom

It is my fate in life to always have songs I don’t really know stuck in my head.  It’s always the songs that I know one line of, or if I’m lucky, maybe the whole chorus.  Right now, it’s “Do you know the way to San Jose? La la la-la la la, la-la la-la, la-la la-la,” followed immediately by “Do you know the way to San Jose? La la la-la la la, la-la la-la, la-la la-la,” OVER AND OVER AND OVER.

Make it stop.  I don’t know the rest of the words, I don’t really want to know the rest of the words, and I just want to read my book about a spaceship captain trying to get her abandoned spaceship back into space without Dionne Warwick’s help.

Soggy routine

I get up, work, go for a long bike ride.  While I’m out, I get rained on, and I see a wild animal.  Today, it poured for seven miles, and I saw a fox.

This is my life now.

I miss running, not least because I didn’t feel I had to do it for an hour and a half to burn any calories.  You’re less likely to get rained on if you’re not out for 90 minutes.  I need to join that gym.  I’ll get a pool, weights, classes, no rain, and no wildlife.  And eventually, I’ll be able to run again.

No more panic

The panic is gone (and may have been exaggerated for effect).  I’m just in how-do-I-get-myself-out-of-all-these-work-things mode.  I packed last night (mostly).  Ate some fruit (a lot of fruit – more on that later).  Work is….what it always is, which makes getting away difficult, but I’ll manage it.  I ran this morning, had coffee (decaf!) with Jess this morning, and now I would like to shower, eat more fruit (there’s really a lot of fruit), and finish packing.  THEN I’ll feel better.  My goal is the big sigh of relief when I get in the car.  Although it might be put off in favor of getting to the gate.  Then I can relax.

I should stop agonizing over not liking a book

I’ve had a physical copy of one of John Hodgman’s books for quite some time (More Information Than You Require).  It’s one of the books I saved out of the original donation pile with the intention of reading it before we move across the country.  I like John Hodgman.  I think he’s funny.  We both like him enough that we bought tickets to see his show at The Birchmere a few years back.  We didn’t go at the last minute, for depressing reasons (still absolutely the right decision), but I’m sure we would have enjoyed the show.

I had every expectation of enjoying his book.  And then I tried to read it (this was yesterday).  I’ve been talking a lot about the books on my bookshelf and how I feel about reading them.  Some of them are really just not for me (Gormenghast, some of the Kate Atkinson novels), some of them I have REALLY liked, and some I might just not be in the mood for.  I think I’m just not in the mood for John Hodgman.  There are a lot of made-up facts, there’s a lot of ALL CAPS EMPHASIS going on, a lot of absurdity – these are all things I think are funny.  Just not this week, I guess. Or maybe for me, Hodgman’s humor doesn’t translate to the page.  Or maybe I’m just not in the right mood.

I put the book in the donation pile.  I might try again before we actually donate the books.  I might not.  It won’t be hard to get if I change my mind later.

I feel bad about this (hence the hedging and rationalizing).

Not that bad, though.  I picked up Bill Bryson’s Shakespeare book last night and was immediately more interested. I’m much happier when I’m reading something for fun and not because I feel like I have to.

I’m sorry, John Hodgman, that apparently I feel like your book is something I have to read.

Limited choices


My bookshelf is getting shorter.  That’s both good and bad.  Good: I’m getting through the books I kept because I wanted to read them sooner rather than later (or never).  Bad: I have fewer books to choose from when it’s time to pick a new book.  Fewer books to choose from means more pressure to like the one I pick – wait, wait, no.

That’s ridiculous.  I don’t have to like every book I read (and I don’t – I’ve been through that before).  Just because I think I’ll like something doesn’t mean I have to.  And yes, I worry that if I pick up a book (because I feel like I have to) when I’m in the wrong mood, the circumstances will cause me to not like something I might love later on.  Is that a rational worry?  Maybe.  How can you tell if you would have liked something if only you’d read it at a different time in your life?  If I didn’t like it the first time, I’m very unlikely to pick up and try it again some other time.

This particular worry is affecting at least one book still on the shelf.  I’ve tried Kate Atkinson three times now.  The first time (a few years ago), I read Case Histories.  It was slow to start, but I really liked it once I got into it.  Then I read Behind the Scenes at the Museum.  It was okay.  Not really my thing, but I liked it fine.  Then I picked up Emotionally Weird and didn’t like it at all.  The very beginning was promising, but then it bogged down and never picked up a plot, and I ended up putting it down without finishing it.  The last Kate Atkinson book I have on my shelf is Started Early, Took My Dog.  I don’t know anything about it.  Should I try it?  The one people keep saying I’ll like is Life After Life (I’ll have to get it on Kindle, which I’m not allowing myself to do until I finish the physical books on this shelf).  If I’ll like Life After Life, shouldn’t I like her other books?  That’s usually how it works for me.  So I’m hesitant to pick up Started Early, Took My Dog.

Now that I’ve thought through all of that, though, I think the whole Kate Atkinson situation is different.  It’s not the same as the pressure to choose one of THESE books.  I have proven to myself (after three books) that I’m not sure I like her, so my reluctance to try again is well-founded and I don’t think it has ANYthing to do with the bookshelf pressure.  Except…the second and third ones of hers I tried were on my shelf.  I might not have read them at this point in my life except for the pressure to do it, and if I read them at some other point, might I have liked them?

I’m back where I started, and it’s still ridiculous because you know what?  I could say the same about any book I’ve read and liked or not hated.  This is dumb.  I’m not going to worry about this ANY MORE.  I have washed my hands of the whole affair.  (Really, I just did the hand-wiping/washing motion.  I’m committed.)

The last post about baking for a while

I know I’ve been talking about baking and cookies and stuff a lot, but I promise this is the last one for a while.  It’s just I keep trying new things!  Today, I made a ton of gluten-free oatmeal raisin cookies.  I hear they turned out well, but I will have to take everyone else’s word for it.  I love oatmeal, but oatmeal cookies?  No way.  I like grapes, but raisins get stuck in my teeth, so I avoid them.  Oatmeal cookies combine those two things into pure evil.  I made them by request, and it was…a learning experience?

Corey, Dad, and Gaby all said they were good.  I’ll assume they weren’t just being nice (it makes me feel better).  I’m happy to make stuff by request, and I like baking – it’s fairly simple, I’ve never completely ruined anything (so far, I think), and it doesn’t take forever.  But for the most part, I think I’d rather make things I’ll actually eat.  On the other hand…my diet will thank me if I stick to oatmeal raisin cookies…something to think about.

No more baking!  Until Christmas.  Or until John runs out of cookies.

Partly the clothes, partly the lifestyle

I have expressed my love for Athleta before, but it was reinforced yesterday.  I took the day off to shop (and relax), and, as is my wont at that store, I tried on nearly everything they had.  I did not BUY everything they have – that would be crazy – but I did get the things I was on the lookout for.  I’ll just lust after EVERYTHING ELSE.

I love them so much.

Cold hands make typing difficult

My day has been unsatisfying, I think because I don’t really like my book.  I like it okay, but I would prefer to like it more.  It’s a collection of steampunk short stories, some of which I like better than others (of course), and I’m just not excited about reading it.  I’m halfway through, and I know that if I finish the story I’m on and put it down, it’s unlikely that I’ll pick it back up.  That seems like a shame.  Like I’m punishing the book for something that isn’t its fault.

This is dumb, isn’t it?

Single-minded and annoyed to boot

You know how when one thing in your life is acting up (it’s usually work), you can’t think about anything else?  It’s this constant irritation (and it’s usually work), and much as you’d like to think about other things, more pleasant things, this ONE THING (usually work) takes up all available brain space.

Oh, you’re telling me a funny story?  I’m sorry – I was distracted by thoughts of the big annoying thing that isn’t going the way it should (work, most likely).  We’re going to watch TV?  Let’s choose something I don’t have to pay much attention to because my mind will be going in circles about how to solve a problem like Maria (except no singing, no dancing, no love story because it’s almost certainly work).

Actually, The Sound of Music might help.  “How you solve a problem like Maria” might not solve my problem (with, let’s face it, work), but it might be the most effective distraction.  If only it weren’t raining and I had a handy hilltop or convent to spin around in…


I am working.  It’s almost 10.  At night.  Why am I working?  That’s a very good question.  And it doesn’t have a very good answer.  And actually, I’m done working, so maybe it doesn’t matter.  Maybe I’m tired.  Maybe I feel a little guilty that I took a couple of hours out of my normal afternoon to follow John to his flying lesson and read in the shade of a tree at the airport.  (But it was so nice!  Until a mosquito bit my thumb.  Bastard.)  And maybe I’m over the guilt and going to bed now.

Good talk!

Sleep update

This won’t turn into a health blog, I promise, but when bug bites and lack of sleep are the only things on my mind, well, I’m sorry.

Last night was just as bad as the night before, even though I didn’t take any Benadryl.  My feet were on fire, so I couldn’t sleep.  Simple as that.  I tried putting hydro-cortisone cream on one foot and after-sunburn aloe on the other, just to if either remedy would help – neither did.  I also tried putting my socks in the freezer and then wearing them.  Back to the tub, at least four times.

I still haven’t collapsed.  Maybe this is a sign that I don’t need as much sleep as I think I do.  Or maybe the collapse is imminent.

Today, however, has been MUCH better, and I have high hopes for sleeping tonight.  I went to the doctor this morning, somewhat embarrassed to be complaining so much about bug bites, and she gave me a prescription topical steroid that has worked for me all afternoon.  I don’t know if that’s because my feet don’t bother me as much during the day or if it’s really working, but I’m going to be positive about it.

This will work!

Update: It didn’t work.  Only super-hot water worked.  Feels awful while my feet are in it, but there’s temporary relief afterward (enough to get to sleep).

$%(^&$ Mosquitoes!

I cannot express my hatred of mosquitoes in words.  Only primal screams will do.  We were out on the deck of a restaurant Friday night.  I was wearing jeans and sandals.  During the day on Saturday, I noticed my feet itching a little.  Then a lot.  Then I finally looked.  SEVEN bites on one foot, two more on the other.  And NOW, three days later (and every night – it’s always worse at night), my feet feel like they’re on fire.  My BARE FEET look like clown shoes (the ones with the pink polka dots).  It’s awful.

So I googled “places without mosquitoes” to see if maybe that’s where we should move and found a very helpful article.  I guessed two of them (Antarctica and Iceland), but the other three are tropical islands.  Surprising.  It might be worth it.  It’s probably better than the alternative, which is to chop off both feet at the ankles.

Just say something already!

Trepidation has turned into impatience.  My HR person hasn’t told ANYone yet.  She wants to have a conversation with my boss first, then tell the CEO and CFO, and it seems that finding the time to have that first conversation is proving difficult.  COME ON ALREADY!  I don’t like secrets.  I’m trying to be above-board with everyone.

On the other hand, it’s Friday, it’s Molly’s first day, and the sun is shining.

I would like to stop having such long days

It appears to be Crisis Week at work.  I spent hours on conference calls with one client yesterday, and hours on conference calls with a different client today.  Also, I went in early to help wrap up yesterday’s problems, but couldn’t do that (someone else did) because of the new crisis, AND I worked until 8pm because we’re short-staffed and I didn’t want to screw anyone on my team by making them work the late shift more than once this week, so I just finished an 11-hour day.  Half of it was productive, much of it was annoying.  But it’s over now.  John just watched Atari: Game Over (which appears to be an episode (the only one?) in a series called Signal to Noise that maybe failed, based on the IMDB results), and the music over the end credits was happy enough to make those couple of minutes the best part of my day so far.  Of course, Google is failing me – I can’t find the song.  Don’t ruin this for me, Google!

But hey – I feel much better than I did, and it was super-duper nice to work the afternoon from home.  My twice-monthly meetings with my boss start next week, so I plan to make this a regular thing and let everyone get used to the idea.  I want to talk to her about it before I do it, but it’s going to happen.

Reading is next, and bed, and tomorrow is Thursday, and you know what?  I really like Thursdays.