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An aversion to work

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Not work of all kinds, just the kind of work that’s paying my salary right now.  I haven’t been able to focus on work for two days straight.  And I know it’s not a general inability to concentrate since I’m perfectly capable of concentrating on just about anything that isn’t what I’m supposed to be doing from nine to five.  I do have a solution for tomorrow, though, so I’m not really worried about it.  Deadlines help, too.

You know what doesn’t help my powers of concentration?  The band.  They’re rehearsing (their next gig is this Sunday), and I can’t seem to finish a thought.

I was able to finish my book.  That was last night, though, so it doesn’t count.  (No band to compete for my attention.)  Holly sent it to me (Thanks, Holly!).  I liked it, and I plan to look for more from him (I read Breath, by Tim Winton), but the ending felt a little…off.  He brought up and quickly glossed over a lot of things right at the end that didn’t seem to be directly related to the majority of the book.  I can see how maybe everything could be pulled together, but it would take another book.  For the end to work, I felt like I needed more information about that part of his life.  And that’s what got glossed over.  But that was just the very end.

Klutzy McKlutzington

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I fell today.  I was jogging along with the dogs, and I started to untwist the leashes, which is something I do at least three times every day I take them with me (Riley ducks and weaves around Roxy – he doesn’t want to miss a single tree, mailbox, clump of weeds, drain, or bush), and I stopped paying attention to my feet.  Usually not an issue.  Today, though, the sidewalk reached up and grabbed my heel, forcing me to trip over the seam.  For a split-second, while my feet were scrabbling for purchase, I thought I had it, I thought I was going to be able to recover and stay on my feet, but then I lost it.  I slammed into the sidewalk, caught myself with the heels of both palms and my right elbow, and bounced onto my right side.  (I think.  That’s the only explanation I can think of for why the right side of my thigh is scraped and bruised (along with my hands and that one elbow), but not my knees.)  I rolled onto the grass in someone’s front yard to take stock and find the leashes I’d dropped.  The scrapes are mostly just along the surface so my skin is a little rough, but there was no blood except for the scrape along my elbow.  Still, I cut my run short and headed home.

Not the most auspicious start to my day.

Completely stumped

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The fan is on high, and I’m watching the chain swing around in a circle, and I think it’s drawing all the thoughts out of my head.  It’s going around and around and around…  If I were insanely rich, I’d have a couple of rooms in my house for totally mindless entertainment.  One would be like a moonbounce/trampoline room.  The floor would be all trampoline and the walls and ceiling would be padded.  No sharp edges or hard surfaces.  I’d have another room with lots of stuff hanging from the ceiling all the way to the floor, like bead curtains or wind chimes, things that make tinkly sounds when you brush by them, sort of fake-waterfall, liquid-y metal things.  Those rooms would be in addition to the multi-story library, of course, with ladders and spiral staircases and galleries and stuff.  And the theater.  And the gym.  And the pool.   And the GIANT bathroom and awesome kitchen.  Um, those would be separate.

Around and around and around…

Up too late

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Would you believe I went to DC today with a used bookstore in my sights, but then decided not to go when we finally got there?  I know, right?  Am I sick?  I must not be feeling well.  I’ll have to organize my books tomorrow to make myself feel better.  🙂

Away We Go

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We watched Away We Go tonight.  LOVED it.  If you haven’t seen it, see it.  Right now.  Drop everything.  Go.  Watch it.  There was one scene that made us cheer.

Anyway, it’s Friday, and we have cheesecake (dulce de leche cheesecake – the Cheesecake Factory is a wonderful place), so, um.  Bye.

Issues, both personal and mechanical

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I don’t think this is the right time of day for me.  I tend to post in the evenings, but exactly when varies from right after I get home to right before I go to sleep.  Right now, when I’m looking at the clock and calculating how many hours of sleep I can get and trying to decide if that’s going to be enough and will I be exhausted tomorrow or will I hear my alarm and reset it because I’m too tired to run – right now is when I shouldn’t be writing.  I get anxious about getting enough sleep, and feeling like I need to post something before I go to bed makes it worse.  It’s not a high level of anxiety or anything, nothing like when I was traveling, but there’s something left undone and I won’t feel better until it’s done and even when it’s done, if I did it late (like now), I won’t feel enough better because, well, now it’s late.  And later means less sleep.  And for some reason, I can’t be laid back about how much sleep I get.  Solution?  (I’m into solutions lately.)  Post earlier.  Before dinner.  Or get ready for bed and post from there.  That’s worked for me a couple of times.  Which leads me to…why am I not doing that now?

We had some mechanical difficulties today.  Woke up to find the A/C not working anymore, so I called the company who last serviced it and they sent out a technician.  We had an easy problem to fix, luckily, so the A/C was back on by early afternoon and I finished the day working from home.  Love doing that.  Then, I asked John to stop on the way home to pick up dinner (Subway), but I’d forgotten about his weird car issue.  He bought the sandwiches, but couldn’t get home because his car wouldn’t start.  I picked him up, we ate dinner and dodged anonymous phone calls (Iowa keeps calling, but they never leave a message.), and then we headed back to Subway to see if his car would start.  It did, I guess because it had been an hour or two.  John thinks (and I agree, whatever that’s worth) that it’s a temperature issue.  The car will start when it’s been sitting for a while (overnight or the whole work day for sure, and, like tonight, even just for a couple of hours), but if you drive it for 20 minutes or more and then stop just for a couple of minutes, it won’t start until it’s cooled down.  Sometimes it helps to top off the gas tank, but that doesn’t always work.  If he’s only driven it for a couple of minutes (like to the gas station or to Starbucks), it’ll start even after another quick stop.  It’s weird, and if I’d thought about it, I wouldn’t have asked him to pick up dinner.  Maybe that’s the lesson: don’t ask John to pick up dinner.  He’ll like that one.  Even if it doesn’t actually solve the car problem.

Why does there have to be a lesson?  Why is Roxy incapable of backing up?  Why do birds suddenly appear?  Why ask why?  Drink Bud Dry.

I don’t lie awake at night worrying about my dentist’s opinion of me

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I heard a really funny commercial for sedation dentistry on the radio today.  Pardon me while I paraphrase: “People don’t avoid going to the dentist because they’re afraid of some pain.  They don’t go because they’re embarrassed because it’s been so long.  They’re afraid of being judged.  So come to So and So’s Sedation Dentistry!  You won’t have to face our judgmental attitudes ’cause you’ll be unconscious!”  Really?  Not “We’re nice.  We don’t judge!”  No, no, it’s “We’ll knock you out!  Come on down!”  Believe me, if I ever decide to try sedation dentistry (it’s tempting), it’ll be because of the pain (and anticipation of pain), not because I care what my dentist thinks about me.

The euphoria after a good morning run

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For the first time in many many months, it’s cooler outside than inside (and there’s a breeze!), so I’ve opened the windows.  Feels good.  I can hear the windchimes from the front porch.  Roxy doesn’t care one way or the other (she’s happily gnawing on a new bone), so Riley and I sat out on the deck for a few minutes and communed with the crickets.  What time do crickets quit?  Or am I crazy for thinking they don’t do a lot of cricketing during the day?  Seems like a night-time thing, but here we are, 7:15 in the morning, the sun is the up (although not shining – overcast today) and has been up for about 45 minutes, and the crickets are chirping away.  And I can hear them because the windows are open!

They really do make a lot of noise.

Why didn’t they ask me?

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The post office doesn’t open until nine!  What’s up with that?  Didn’t it used to open at eight?  I know I’ve read a lot recently about the post office losing money and cutting back hours and services, but how are people supposed to get there if they’re only open from 9 to 5 and not at all on Saturdays?  I only go once or twice a year, but I’ve never been the only person in there.  Far from it, in fact.  There’s ALWAYS a line.  I don’t know what the solution is.  Maybe, if the issue is not being able to afford to be open for more than eight hours a day, they should be open from 5am to 9am and then from 4pm to 8pm.  Thank you, thank you, I know, I’m brilliant.  Post office problem solved.

What other problems can I solve?  Hungry?  I’ll make you cookies!  (I made cookies yesterday.  They’re mostly gone now.)  Need cheering up?  Listen to Mr. Blue Sky by ELO.  I was having a sad morning before work last week (no particular reason) and John played this for me.  It worked.

Stuck between books? I have a handy-dandy and oh-so-convenient book list right over there –> and if you’re wondering, my next book after the one I’m reading now will be something by Laura Lippman.  Anything else I can help with?  I’m not as good with band names (or company names), but it’s fun to try.

Ewan MacGregor is really cute

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The Men Who Stare at Goats is a weird, weird movie.  I liked it.

Remember that navy blue shirt I love but is such a pain to iron?  I bought another one today, in a perfect dark red, kind of a maroon-ish color.  Matches my toenails.  And I love the way it fits.  I knew I needed another one when I was so disappointed to realize I couldn’t wear the one I had yesterday because it was waiting to be washed.  I might also have picked it up in black.  This is what I do – find something that looks really good and buy it in two or three colors.  I guess I’ll just have to iron more often.

I saw a ton of wildlife (well, more than usual.  Maybe not a ton.  Half a ton.) today.  On my way back from the winery, I saw a groundhog hanging out in the middle of the road.  He was smart enough to scurry off into the grass before I got too close.  A little closer to home, I saw a deer bound six feet into the air to clear a fence and run into the woods.  That was really cool.  Cleared the fence by two feet, at least.  You know, it might have been a fawn.  I thought I saw white spots on its back, and if I learned anything from Bambi, it was that adult deer don’t have spots.  That, and tell your mother you love her every time you see her ’cause you never know when the hunter is coming.  Bambi’s kind of messed up.  (The movie and the poor deer.)  Anyway, while I was at the winery (Hidden Brook – they have John’s favorite sweet rosé and they’re really nice), another kind of wild animal showed up: the all-too-common-at-wineries-on-weekends bachelorette party.  This party had clearly already been to several other wineries.  They had a bus with a driver and were taking advantage of it, and when they walked in the door at Hidden Brook, the guitarist (there was a guitarist) had just gotten to the line “lookin’ for my lost shaker of salt” from “Margaritaville”, and the 15 (20?  There were a lot of them.) women in the bachelorette party all shouted, “Salt!  Salt!  Salt!”  (There’s usually not a lot of shouting going on during wine tastings.  There’s probably not a lot of wine tasting going on during Jimmy Buffet concerts, either.)  The two employees behind the counter looked like they wanted to run out the back door.  I did.  Bachelorette parties + several wineries + driver = not my scene (unless I’m one of them).

Back to the subject, I saw a cute little lamb, too, standing a little ways away from the rest of the sheep, but farm animals don’t really count as wildlife, so never mind.

This is going to be a busy weekend

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Good busy, I think.  I have a long to-do list, but it’s all stuff I want to do (and a couple of things I’m excited about doing), and on Sunday (maybe Saturday – depends) I’ll spend some time working.  I really need to.  I’ll feel much better about next week if I feel like I finished everything I needed to do this week, which certainly didn’t happen at work today.  However busy I plan to be, though, I can get a little extra sleep in the morning, go for a run, and then start my day.  I think having my mornings to myself, with only self-imposed deadlines, is a major reason I’d like to work from home.  When I drive to work every morning, I see all these people out walking, jogging, biking, with their dogs and their kids and their friends.  Why don’t they have to go to work?  Are they all on vacation?  Do they all work later shifts?  Could they all be stay-at-home parents or work from home?  And why can’t I do that?  Besides company policy, I mean (because they do have a company policy about it – don’t).  So I’m working on that.  In the back of my mind.  Every day.

My shadow’s diet and exercise regimen is working better than mine

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I was walking across the Costco parking lot this evening around 6:30 when I noticed my shadow.  The sun was getting lower in the sky, but not too low, and my shadow stretched across a couple of parking spaces to my left.  I looked down toward my feet – my calves don’t look so good from that angle.  Kinda dumpy.  But check out my shadow!  Long and lean – killer legs.  I’m totally jealous.

L-double O-N-Y

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Do you talk to yourself?  I do.  In the car, in the kitchen, at the mall, out loud and in my head.  When I catch myself talking out loud (That’s the second time in two sentences I’ve typed “out load” instead of “out loud”.  Issues.) and I’m not alone (walking down the street, through the grocery store, in the parking lot), I tell myself to cut it out, usually in some kind of crazy-sounding hiss.  “Stop talking to yourself!”  It doesn’t keep me from looking crazy.  I hope no one notices.  Is it weird?  Or normal?  I really can’t tell.

Big thunderstorms

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It was pouring rain for a while here.  Still raining now, just not as hard.  Is the world ending?  We’ve had a lot of extreme weather lately (crazy snowstorms, severe thunderstorms, power outages nearby, flash floods, record-breaking heat), and that pattern has been worse other places.  There’s been major flooding everywhere, it seems.  Maybe The Day After Tomorrow is happening, just a little slower than in the movie.

Or maybe not.  It’s entirely possible that this is fairly typical summer weather that I just happen to be old enough to pay attention to and think is unusual and that the freak snowstorms were just that.  Freakish.  Likely, even.  (That it’s typical, not that it’s freakish – wait.  Not that the snowstorms were likely…Did I just contradict myself?  Ignore the badly worded thought, please.)

Am I really talking about the weather?

Forgive me

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It’s been kind of a hectic evening, and I haven’t had the time or the head space or the whatever to sit down and write, so this is going to be short and not all that great (way to entice the readers, Zannah).  Other than about 45 minutes while I was eating dinner, I’ve been on the phone nonstop since I left work at 6pm tonight.  All good things and all good conversations, but now it’s time for me to have a cookie and some milk and go to bed.

I don’t like Emilio Estevez

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We watched Pretty People With Problems (that’s St Elmo’s Fire for those of you who haven’t seen most of VH1’s I Love the 80s shows) over the last couple of nights, and I found it really hard to like any of the characters.  Emilio Estevez bugged me more than anyone else, but Demi Moore ran a close second.  I’d like to take Andrew McCarthy home, though.  Sad puppy dog eyes.

Maybe it’s just as well I never lived alone

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This is going to be one of those posts.  Those posts.  You know, the ones that don’t really have a point or any cohesive thread and are mostly about me banging away at the keyboard, listing every thought in my head.  For the hell of it.  Maybe because today was a normal and unremarkable day.  What am I supposed to do with that?  Besides enjoy the lack of drama.  Which I did.  And do.

It’s so quiet.  It’s rehearsal night, but the band is practicing somewhere that’s not in my basement.  The only sound I hear is from the refrigerator.  And my typing.  The dogs are outside, the TV is muted – I thought it was off, but then I saw movement out of the corner of my eye and freaked out a little ’cause I thought someone was in the house with me, and then I realized that the someone I saw had a ton of makeup on and kinda looked like a member of Kiss, and hey, wait a minute…  Right.  It’s quiet.

I’m going to take advantage of all this quiet and read.  READ.  I’m reading now.  Stop looking!  I can’t read when you’re looking at me.

There aren’t enough hours in the day

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It’s hard to prioritize sometimes.

A somewhat blurry picture of the stage at Wolf Trap, right before we got in trouble for taking pictures.

Last night, John wanted a pretzel.  They don’t allow food or drinks in the pavilion (only on the lawn, which is where we wanted to be, but I waited too long to buy tickets, and we were forced to sit in actual SEATS with backs and arms and everything), so he didn’t have time to finish his giant pretzel.  That’s where my purse came into play.  It’s my summer purse, and I’ve hardly used it, so it was basically empty.  Unusual for me.  Wallet, phone, keys – that’s it.  Plenty of room for a half of a giant salt-covered pretzel.  I’m a criminal.  I run red lights and I smuggle food into theaters.  And when I got up this morning, I had to turn my purse inside out and upside down to get all the salt out.  For the record, he appreciates me.

Bugs Bunny rules!

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I love Bugs Bunny.  Always have, always will.  We went to Wolf Trap tonight to see Bugs Bunny at the Symphony, this concert series that’s been going on for 20 years and has live orchestras playing the classical music to Bugs Bunny (and other Looney Tunes) cartoons.  It was SO much fun.

I’d probably have more to say about it (and might tomorrow), and I’m very very happy we went (Bugs Bunny alone and classical music (particularly live) alone make me very happy – combined I got a little teary at times), but it’s late and I’m fending off the dogs (they’re a little crazy – past their bedtime) and somewhat distracted.

Today was a good day.

Troubleshooting

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Mom has laptop troubles.  Mom eventually has troubles with each laptop she gets, but this one is weird.  She was connected to the internet this morning, and when she came back, she wasn’t. John and I spent a couple of hours over the course of the evening on the phone with Dad, trying everything we could think of. We don’t have Vista running on any of the 5 dozen computers here (I may be exaggerating), so that made it a little harder, and we eventually (it didn’t take that long) resorted to Google. And that reminded me of this www.xkcd.com comic:

This isn’t exactly how it goes when our parents call us for technical help, but it’s close, and it makes me laugh every time.  Anyway, we weren’t able to get her connected again, but we’re pretty certain we could have if we were local.  I say we, but at this point in the process, it would really be John.  Funny flowcharts aside, we like being the go-to tech experts in the family.