complaining

Sniffles and ugh

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Summer appears to be over in the Pacific Northwest.  (Actually, the forecast says we’re going to be in the low 80s this weekend, but go with me here.)  We spent our last week of summer in Disney World, and when we got back to Portland on Friday, it was overcast and 70 degrees out.  It was chillier than that (and rainy) on Saturday, and I think the season change shocked me into a cold.  Or maybe it’s allergies.  It’s hard to tell, but either way, I spent Labor Day on the couch with a sore throat and a box of kleenex.  It looked beautiful out, but all I got was a look out the window.

I’m not feeling much better today, either, so now that I’m done with work for the day, it’s back to the couch I go.  Maybe I can rest enough to feel like a human being tomorrow.  I would like to go back outside (and enjoy it).

Melting

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It’s 96 degrees right now, after three days in a row over 100, and you know?  96 doesn’t feel better.  Tomorrow should.  I hope.  In the meantime, this whole no central AC in Oregon thing is a PROBLEM.  John is in Salem for a gig tonight, outside, probably no shade, so he’s got it worse than I do, but that’s not going to stop me from complaining.  My problems are still real!  This constant sheen of sweat is pretty darn gross.

I’m going to beat it as best I can.  I’m inside with a big box fan pointed right at me (and NOT pulling hot outside air in).  My laptop is on the coffee table streaming tonight’s Olympic track and field events so I can see the 5000m final live (yes, I moved my massage appointment – priorities!), I’ll be ordering food soon, and I have chilled white wine waiting for me.  I’m not sure why I haven’t opened it yet, actually.  Let me fix that.

IMG_20160820_164252Better.  And I’m chilling my wine chiller so I can just leave the bottle out next to me.  Let’s face it – John won’t be home for HOURS, and I plan to read and watch the Olympics all evening.

Losing daylight

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It’s August, the sun is coming up later in the morning, and for inexplicable reasons (some misplaced dedication to work?), I’m getting up earlier during the week. And that means it’s dark.  I am up before the sun rises (it was still dark when I started this post), and I’m of two minds about it.  Maybe three.

First mind: I like being up (once I’m up), and being up this early means I have the entire day ahead of me.  When I get up after the sun is up, I feel like I’ve lost precious hours.  Not work hours – they’re not precious, although I do feel massively behind if I don’t start work early.  I mostly feel like I’ve lost hours when I sleep in on weekends.

Second mind: *whining* It’s daa-aark out there, and I should still be sleeeeeping.

Third mind…no, just two.  Two is enough.

Working for the weekend is not how I want to live

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Work this week officially sucked.  Every day, all day.  It’ll be better next week.  I’ll believe that if I keep repeating it to myself.  It doesn’t help that it got hot again (mid to upper 90s).  Yeah, yeah, the rest of the country has had it worse than us, I know, but we don’t have air conditioning!  We’re going to an outdoor concert tonight (Weird Al!  Should be fun.), and our only criteria for dinner before the show is that the place has to have A/C.

Oh, and John has been sick all week.  Nonstop fun in our house!

My doom

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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.

I am disappoint

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The universe is letting me down.  Three summers ago, I got all excited about this tap class I was going to take.  I went to the first class, it was great, and then the instructor had a family emergency and the class got cancelled.  Major bummer.  Shortly after that, we got busy with moving and everything, and then we got here, and I looked into tap classes again.  It’s hard to find adult tap classes for beginners, and I’d rather not join a class with toddlers.  I found a studio that offered exactly what I wanted, called, and they told me that the class would start in July.  Great!  So excited.  I remembered this past weekend, checked their website – yup, beginner adult tap scheduled to start this very Tuesday.  As in TODAY.

So, TODAY, I called.  I wanted to be sure it was actually starting, find out how much it was going to cost, what I should wear, if there’s anything else I should know….and the answer to the last bit was yes.  There was something else I should know, and THAT is that the class is NOT for beginners.  Apparently, there wasn’t enough interest, so it’s an intermediate class, continuing where the class from last spring left off.  I have learned that I cannot fake my way through an intermediate dance class, so that’s out.  I left messages at a couple of other places, but there just aren’t very many.  The university and the community college aren’t any help, either.

Frustration is my new state of being.

Don’t wanna, can’t make me

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It’s an overcast day, I didn’t sleep well last night, and now that the work day is over, I don’t want to do anything.  I don’t want to ride my bike, I don’t want to go for a walk, I don’t want to go to the library.  Well, I want to BE at the library and then BE home.  I don’t want to go to and from.

None of this should be a problem.  I can have a lazy slob day if I want one.  EXCEPT.  EXCEPT we have a late night tonight.  The band has a gig tonight, we have to be at the place around 7, the show starts at 9, there are two opening acts, and The ELP doesn’t go on until ELEVEN (ish).  But it’s our/their show, so we kinda have to be there from the start.  So late night, plus early-ish start tomorrow (because we didn’t take the day off), and I DON’T WANNA!

I’ll get over it, probably as soon as we get there.  But now, I’m comfy and lazy at home (and whiny) and going out sounds like so much work.

(I swear I will do a whole band post.  I will.  I will I will I will.  Not now.)

Is it here yet?

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Package tracking is such a tease.  My new phone is being shipped all the way from Long Island.  It hopped over to New Jersey, and then it landed in Ohio, then Iowa, and as of Saturday evening, it was in Nebraska.  Where next?  Why isn’t there an update after Saturday?  Is it still in Nebraska?  We drove here faster than my little phone is moving.  The worst is when you can your package stuck in a post office one town over…and now I’ve jinxed myself.  That is going to happen to me.

I want it now!  Yup, me and Veruca, best buds.

It’s not that easy

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Yesterday, the podiatrist seemed to think that the way he wrapped my foot would bring instant relief, even after I remove the wrap.  He said I could even go for a test run that night.  That was a bit too optimistic.  I rode my bike out to a soft trail (cedar chips, no asphalt), locked up the bike, took three excruciating steps on the trail, turned around, and got right back on my bike.  That was way worse than before.  When not running, it didn’t hurt, so part of what he said was true.

I followed his directions.  I bought supportive insoles for my shoes, wore my running shoes (with insoles) around the house all day (as instructed – no barefoot walking for me), put them on again first thing this morning, and then went for a walk.  The first half of the walk was fine.  Second half, painful.  (Not debilitating, just not normal.)

So.  I’m doing what the doctor said.  I still feel pain, but not all the time.  Do I need a follow-up?  Do I need more time to rest it?  Should I be biking?  Swimming?  Yoga?  Nothing?  If I can’t run when he thought I’d be able to, is something more serious going on?  Can I work myself into a frenzy without the use of Google or WebMD to tell me I’m dying?

I’m scheduling a follow-up.

Delayed

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I desperately need new running shoes.  Mine have worn out to the point of discomfort, and after running in them this morning, I think I may have actually done some harm to my left foot.  It’s uncomfortable enough that I’m taking tomorrow (Sunday) off, and I’m putting off buying new shoes until it feels better.

I’m disappointed.  I was really looking forward to buying new shoes this afternoon, but with my foot feeling like this, I won’t be able to tell if the shoes are uncomfortable because they’re not for me or if they’re uncomfortable because my foot hurts.

Boo and blah.

Grumble grumble grumble.  I’m off to sulk.

Violence is in my future, I can feel it

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I have been forced out of my comfort zone, largely because I don’t HAVE a comfort zone right now, and it is a good and wonderful thing.  I got up this morning (early this morning) to get online before one of my big weekly meetings, and I found that I couldn’t get online on my work laptop. My personal laptop was fine, my phones were fine (I almost typed “phine”), John’s computer was fine.  My work laptop was good yesterday.  Why not today?  It has something to do with Comcast, and I’m going to have to call them, but I didn’t have time right then (meeting starting).  And because of the meeting, I couldn’t dash out to Starbucks for more reliable internet.

I got through the meeting, but I was SO frustrated and wound up.  And THEN we heard from the moving company, who said the truck will be here between 2 and 5pm on Tuesday, which is the latest time possible within the window they gave us.  I’m SO glad we rushed across the country.  That added anger to my frustration (and I sent them an email that hasn’t been replied to yet), and THEN I remembered my air card.  That’s the solution to my work internet problem, and I feel like an idiot for not thinking of it sooner.  I still didn’t want to work another day in the house without furniture (First two days: sore butt from sitting on the floor.  Third day: sore legs from standing at the kitchen counter all day.) and it was still too early for the library to be open, so I packed up my air card and my laptop and headed to the 5th Street Public Market area, just a few blocks away.

It’s a beautiful sunny day, right around 60 degrees, the people at the breakfast place make a really good decaf Americano, and I’m sitting out in the courtyard looking down over a splashing fountain with a chicken on it.  I haven’t figured out the significance of the chicken yet.  I can work here, and I can breathe again.

But I really want my stuff!

There are no chickens in this picture. Sorry.

There are no chickens in this picture. Sorry.

I’m home!!!

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My time in Virginia this week did not go like I thought it would.  The work days were crazy, but I probably should have assumed they would be.  It’s the evenings, the hotel stay, that were so different from my expectations.  My vision of those evenings included lots of quiet time to myself, time to read, go to bed early, sleep well – miss John, certainly, but enjoy my alone time anyway.  That is decidedly NOT how those two nights went.  I did it to myself, of course.

Tuesday night, I went straight from work to happy hour with some coworkers (as I mentioned the other day, in a post fueled by wine and cookies), and I stayed out much later than I had planned.  It’s fine – I was having a good time – but it was 9:30 when I got in, after 10:30 before I got out of the bathtub, and around 11 when I went to bed, with an alarm set for 5:30 so I could get up and exercise.  I read a little (tub time!), but not much, and I slept terribly.  Not a relaxing night.

Wednesday, I worked late and went directly to a restaurant to have dinner with Susan (from boxing) and Molly.  Back in the hotel by 9:30 again, but this time with Molly, who was staying with me so she could avoid the commute from DC the next morning (and, presumably, to hang out with me).  We stayed up until midnight (slumber party!) and woke up at 6am.  She got up to exercise.  I had another terrible night’s sleep (nightmares about packing suitcases in a hotel room with a wasp, a puppy, and about a dozen people hanging around), so I stayed in bed until about 6:45.

So now I’m home, and we have a weekend without plans.  I think.  I hope.  I would like to read.

I miss my bed

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Of the last 14 days, I have spent only 4 of them sleeping in my own bed.  It would be cool if we could take it with us on short trips.  We were in OR for a few days (2 hotel nights, 3 nights at Will and Christina’s, 1 night on a plane), then home for 3 nights, then up to CT for the weekend (2 nights in PA, 1 in CT), then home for 1 night, and then I came to VA for work, and tonight is my second (and last) night in a hotel.  Don’t get me wrong – none of those nights have been uncomfortable (except the night on the plane), and every single shower I’ve had in hotels and other people’s houses has been better than the shower at home, but – my bed.  My stuff.  Not living out of a bag.

Actually, I slept terribly last night.  Noises from the hallway, noises from the parking lot, noises from the room next door (sick and crying child, I think), went to bed late and got up early – I’m surprised I made it through the day.  I tried the hotel gym this morning.  Ran a mile and a half on the treadmill, did some weights.  They keep that room a bit too warm for me.  The thermostat was set to 70, and it was a muggy, sweaty 70.  I didn’t end up doing much, but I suppose it was better than nothing.  I’ll try again tomorrow.  Tonight, I read.

Brrr

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It’s really $&#$^%#$ cold in our apartment.  John thinks it’s an insulation problem (and he’s probably right).  We crank up the heat, close the door to the room we’re in, the heat comes on, and while it’s on, we’re toasty warm.  The second the thermostat (which is across from a window in the kitchen, two rooms away, and gets direct sunlight) reaches the set temperature, the heat stops coming out of the vent, and all the warmth leaches out of the room.  We start to shiver, and eventually the heat comes back on.  It’s ridiculous, and it’s a wonder we’re not both sick with all the temperature fluctuations we sit through every day.

Well.

That’s a grumpy post.  Welcome to my week.  Lovely that it’s over.

 

Bills should always be due on the first of the month!

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Right now, while I’m thinking about it, I’m writing our rent check.  Hang on.

Okay, that’s done.  ALL of our bills are due on the first of the month or just after EXCEPT the rent, which is due on the 15th, and it’s SO hard for me to remember that month after month.  Drives me crazy.  Also, I have to write a physical check and actually mail it, requiring envelopes and stamps – I had to order checks just to pay rent on this apartment because we didn’t have ANY.  And I had a bunch of Forever stamps, but I’m running low, thanks to this particularly backward landlord.  What else do we write checks for?  Nothing.  We can pay all bills online, over the phone via credit card or checking account.  At the last apartment, we paid our rent online.  Everywhere we go takes credit cards, or if they’re cash only, well, they’re cash only, not cash or check.  If they’re cash or check, we make sure we have cash.  If we want to give money to someone, we can transfer it electronically or give them a gift card that is a credit card or give them cash.  CHECKS ARE BASICALLY OBSOLETE and I don’t like them.

Boo checks.  And bills that are due in the middle of the month.

That is all.

Hunkered down

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The snow has begun.  We live on a snow emergency route, so we had to move our cars.  Our regular garage (because it’s always free on weekends) doesn’t open until 6pm, and 1) we had to be moved by 4, and 2) the snow might be pretty bad by then, so we headed for the city garages that were opened at 1pm to residents for just this purpose.  We got to the closest garage at 1:15 – already full.  We found plenty of parking at the next closest garage, but we parked next to an outside wall, which is open to the outside.  We were about to walk back home, but I had visions of having to dig our cars out from under two feet of snow that would DEFINITELY drift in….so we moved the cars to a couple of inner spaces.  Well, I moved my car.   John’s car wouldn’t start.  Even though it was JUST running.  I moved mine back and we jumped his and moved both cars again, but by then the snow had started.  And we were farther away from the apartment than planned.  And it was colder.  Well, it felt colder – we’d been out in it FOR AN HOUR.  Parking wasn’t supposed to take this long.

We’re back, warm again (the apartment, generally so cold, feels REALLY good right now), and catching up on work (since we didn’t anticipate being gone that long).  I went to the store Thursday morning, so we’re all stocked up and ready to be stuck inside for several days.  As long as the power doesn’t go out.  That’s my new nightmare, since the winds are supposed to be so high.  We have electric heat, electric hot water, electric stove…we’ll be very very unhappy if the power goes out.

I need a personal valet

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You know what’s (maybe not so) surprisingly hard?  Trying to wash my hair without the use of my right index finger.  I sliced my finger up pretty good on a boot at the store yesterday (defective zipper), and it is really very irritating having to be this careful about the dominant finger on my dominant hand.  It’s not useless – I can type, so I can work – but the cuts sting like crazy when they get wet or when I curl my finger in too far (or too fast).  Washing hands?  Painful.  Washing dishes?  Sucky.  Washing hair?  Very difficult.  Pretty much anything to do with water.  And I have to bake tonight!  I like to mush the sweet potatoes when I add them to the mixer.  Guess I’ll be mushing one-handed.  And the cookies!  Oh, the cookies.

My life is hard.

Oh, no. Fall is coming.

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I like fall.  It’s pretty, and the temperature’s nice.  But sometimes fall doesn’t like me back.  Today, for example, I can feel the allergy monsters approaching.  There’s been a little bit of the whole back-of-the-throat mess happening for a couple of days, and today I’m blowing my nose and sneezing a lot.  Fall is doing this to me.  Jerk.

But I feel fine!  This is just a minor annoyance.  I don’t know how accurate this is, but I always assume that if  my head is exploding (could be mild, could be extreme) but I don’t otherwise feel sick (no achiness, no fatigue*, no general blah-ness), it must be allergies.  If I actually feel bad, then I must have a cold or something.  According to me, then, this is allergies.  Which is good.  Ish.

*This past weekend’s constant complaining about how sleepy I was doesn’t count.  It was self-inflicted.  Especially on Saturday – we didn’t go to bed until 2am Friday night.  I don’t handle that well.  Just thinking about it is making me yawn.