Disconnected

I left the house the other morning to drop Jack off at preschool and meet with the co-op board members. I realized about halfway to school that I had forgotten my phone.

I’m perfectly capable of going for a while without my phone, AT HOME. Out of the home, during the work day – that’s a different matter.

It wasn’t the end of the world, but it was a minor annoyance, mostly because I kept forgetting that I had forgotten it.

My brain:

“Oh, I’ll text John, make sure he knows I don’t have my phone. Whoops, can’t.”

“What time is it? I don’t know, I’ll have to ask somebody.”

“Oh, I can listen to my audiobook on the way home. Nice. CAN’T! No phone.”

Driving by the flooring store: “Ooh, let me just call the Rawlings about floor and carpet remnants or a carpet pad. NOPE.”

It was a very frustrating two hours.

Losing it

I finished my last book during Jack’s nap today, and (le sigh), really enjoyed it all the way through.  So glad it’s nominated for a Hugo.  And, since Jack is STILL napping, I get to start a new one!  AND and, it’s by an author I love.  I’m only three pages in, but I am confident I’m going to be happy with this book, which (again) is SUCH a nice feeling.

Speaking of pages, this is the first time since the end of January that I’m reading an actual dead-tree book.  Apparently, I’ve forgotten how they work.  I got to the bottom of a right-hand page and SWIPED.  Honest-to-god, cross-my-heart, SWIPED at a page as though it were my Kindle.

WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME?

When did this happen?

This whole car thing has unearthed an unsavory side to our lifestyle recently that I would really like to fix.  We have become COMPLETELY irresponsible with the mail.

Maybe not completely irresponsible.  We pay our bills, but then again, most of those don’t come in the mail.

We decided to sign the car over to the mechanic rather than get it fixed or donate it.  It’s the easiest course of action, and we’ve got a lot going on.  So what does it take to do that?  Not a lot – just sign the title over to them.  Got it.  Cool.  We planned to go first thing in the morning.  Say goodbye to the car, take some last pictures, sign over the title.

We were up, dressed, Jack had eaten, shoes were on, and we were all ready to go.  John went upstairs to the file box that has all of our important documents, but then he didn’t come back down.  And he didn’t come down.  And he still didn’t come down.  Eventually, a “Zannah…?” floated down the stairs.  “Yeah?” back up the stairs.  “Can you think of anywhere else the title could be?”

And thus began the destruction of our house.

We turned it upside down, and in doing so, found all of the places we’d been squirreling away mail.  (There were a lot of places.)  Not to hide it, not to avoid dealing with it, but to get it out of the way when we’re picking up or expecting company.  Very bad habit.

We did not find the title.

I called the DMV to figure out what we do now.  We can get a duplicate title by mail, but it’ll take 3 weeks.  What are we supposed to do with the car for 3 weeks?  Last time John called them, they said they’ll charge $30 a day for storage.  Maybe we could have USAA tow the car back to our driveway.

Plan B!  I called the mechanic and explained what was going on.  He said not to worry about it – just bring a copy of the registration, he’ll have us sign a thing, and they’ll take it from there.  If the title turned up in the meantime, bring it to him.  He was super nice to me, said they wouldn’t charge us for storage, and I got a “don’t worry your pretty little head” vibe from him, but it was working to our advantage, so I’m not complaining.  Now, of COURSE we’ll still get the duplicate title and eventually get it to him.  I don’t want anything weird about the car hanging over our heads.

So that’s great, that’s the plan, and John found time for us to go down there Thursday afternoon.  So Thursday afternoon rolls around, and as we were getting ready to go, I picked up the registration I pulled out of the car when I emptied it last week.

Well….crap.  It expired.  At the end of JANUARY.  And neither of us remembers renewing it.  I went online to check – inconclusive. I called the DMV.  YUP.  We have been driving an unregistered car since the beginning of February.  Granted, we haven’t been driving it MUCH these past two months, but STILL.

WHAT IS WRONG WITH US?

The car doesn’t have to be registered to sign the title over to someone, so that was helpful, and the car was not at all driveable, so that’s not really an issue, either, but the mechanic was expecting a copy of the registration!

We decided to go anyway.  I went in to talk to Leo and laid it on the line.  Not only could we not find the title, but it turns out our registration had expired.  He laughed sympathetically, told me it was fine, and then declined to charge us even for the hour they spent diagnosing the engine problem.  He said we’d had a rough week already.  Maybe he expects to make enough off of our car that he can afford to do that, but I choose to believe he’s just that nice of a guy (and he wants our business when we get our next car).

So that all worked out, and we no longer own the Tucson (except that we totally do because we didn’t sign the non-existent title over), and I have a Mid Year Resolution.

HANDLE THE $%#&*$! MAIL.

First step, sort through and toss or shred the existing mountains of unsorted mail, which is what I have been doing, a little bit at a time, for the last several days.  I’m making real progress.

Fried

I am having SO MUCH TROUBLE ordering yard bags and a garden hose, and I can’t tell if the problem is me.  I don’t think it is, but how can I be sure?

I started with Home Depot.  Yard bags are about $2.50 for five.  Great.  But wait – why go pick them up (and encounter people) when surely I can get them from Amazon?  Because AMAZON charges nearly $3 PER BAG, that’s why.  Back to Home Depot.  We need a garden hose, too, so I’ll just get both at the same time.  Easy!

NOT EASY.  First, we need a second hose because our first isn’t long enough.  But what size is our hose, 1/2′ or 5/8′?  Neither of us knows.  Let’s assume 5/8′ because that seems to be the size of most of the hoses.  I pick one.  I go to my cart.  Error.  Why?  That hose is no longer available online.  Not out of stock – no longer available online.  IT WAS AVAILABLE TEN SECONDS AGO.  So I picked another one.  It’s not available at my store, but it can be shipped for free from another store.  Great!  Oh, not until June.  And if I just want something shipped directly to me, it’ll take almost three weeks.

Deep breath.  I can get the bags at Home Depot.  Let’s go to Amazon for a hose.  And now I’m back to choosing which hose.  Amazon’s pick is $40.  That seems ridiculous for a garden hose.  The same brand has one for $25.  Cool.  Reviews are positive…but then there’s the one that mentions needing to buy some different fittings before it’ll connect to another hose, which is LITERALLY why I’m buying a hose.

Counting to ten.  Walking away.  WAIT.  I changed my search a little bit and found a 50′ hose with what appear to be normal ends that’s only $32.  This brand’s 25′ version (we only need 25′ for a second hose) is – DEAR GOD WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME – $40.

WHY?  Why is the shorter hose, same exact hose but HALF the length, MORE expensive?  This is stupid.  I’m ordering the 50′ hose.  And going to bed.

Lucky

Maybe I shouldn’t say this (because of the possibility of jinxing – again – I swear I’m not ACTUALLY superstitious), but I’ve been pretty lucky this pregnancy.  All of the classic symptoms and irritations, if I’ve had them at all, have been pretty mild.  My version of morning sickness in the first trimester was just a terrible taste in my mouth for weeks on end.  And sure, I complained plenty (it was disgusting), but it didn’t keep me from doing anything and it was WAY better than constant nausea or vomiting.  I’ve been dealing with pregnancy brain (John just referred to it as my inability to function) when I need to eat, but I haven’t had ANY food cravings or aversions, I haven’t been terribly uncomfortable physically (even now, at 38 weeks), I’ve barely had any hot flashes, I’m not super tired, and any swelling has largely confined itself to my feet and mostly only happens on really hot days.  That has changed a bit in the last week – my feet are almost constantly swollen now – but if that’s the worst, I can hardly complain.

The worst thing that has happened during this pregnancy isn’t pregnancy-related at all.  We (me, John, the doctor) think I had a brush with poison ivy about a week ago.  It’s mostly on my feet, maybe a little bit on my ankles and my fingers, and IT’S AWFUL AND I HATE IT AND WHEN WILL IT GO AWAY?

It’s a constant burning/itching that gets worse at night and nothing seems to help except soaking in cold water, but I can’t live my life with my feet in a tub and my hands in a bowl and JESUS CHRIST IT’S DRIVING ME CRAZY.  Also, I can’t sleep through it, and for the last week or so (since Saturday, maybe?) I haven’t slept more than an hour at a time until around 2am, when I get up to soak my feet for an hour or two, and then I’m able to sleep for 2-3 hours until I can’t anymore and I just get up.  I have to fall asleep quickly, while my feet are still numb-ish, and if I accidentally rub them on something, it’s game over.

Weirdly, I’m not napping during the day and I don’t feel as exhausted as I should.  Maybe I’m adapting early to the (lack of) sleep schedule I’m anticipating when the baby comes.

On the bright side, I’m getting a lot of reading done in those hours with my feet in the tub.

Was I going to say something?

Is this pregnancy brain?  When I think I wrote something yesterday but it turns out I didn’t even have a draft?  How about when, at 4pm on one day, I schedule an 8:30 meeting for the next day, and then forget to call in to it?

It started snowing, I made hot chocolate, John is going to start cooking soon, and I am going to read my book.  You just try and stop me.

Time to move!

Last month, I told you that my toaster has lost its ding.  It still made ticking sounds while it toasted (and it did still toast).  This morning, things got weird.

  1. I put a piece of bread in the toaster and closed the door.  It started ticking.  I did NOT start the toaster.  I twisted the dial until it stopped ticking and then walked away.  (I wasn’t ready to actually toast the bread yet.)
  2. When I came back a few minutes later, John asked me if I was trying to burn the house down.  My piece of bread was practically ash.  John stopped the toaster when he smelled it burning.
  3. I got a new piece of bread, watched it while it toasted, and then twisted the dial to stop the ticking when it had toasted enough.
  4. I unplugged the toaster (just to be sure), and sat down in the dining room to eat my not-burnt toast.
  5. About ten minutes later, I heard the toaster ticking.  IT WAS STILL UNPLUGGED.

The toaster is haunted.

I’m sitting in a chair!

Our container was delivered today!  And five hours later, it was empty, and our house was full.  We have chairs and shelves and dishes and a couch and a TV and OH OUR BED HALLELUJAH, but you know what I don’t have yet?  A desk.  I have a chair and a table top and I have four legs for the table, but we can’t find the ziploc bag that has all the screws to connect the legs to the table.  We both remember putting them all in one bag (all the screws for both of our desks are together), and I remember taking it from John, and I think I remember making him look at where I was packing it, but neither of us remembers where that was.  We’ve opened every kitchen box and most of the living room boxes.  We’ve searched the car and we’ve searched the suitcases we packed in the car.  Hopefully it will turn up soon.

In the meantime, now that we have chairs, I can at least work with my laptop on my lap.  Which is how I’m typing right now.  It’s SUCH a nice change to have chairs.

Where am I? Who are you? Who am I?

I’ve slept in my own wonderfully comfy bed two nights in a row now after twelve nights away, and two nights in a row I’ve woken up in the super-dark middle of the night with zero idea where I am.  BOTH NIGHTS home.  The disorientation passed quickly, but it’s a super-weird feeling to wake up in your own bed not sure where you are.  Maybe this trip was too long, or maybe the ocean is on the wrong side of me, or maybe this is a sign that it’s time to move, or maybe I just think it’s a sign that it’s time to move because – guess what – IT’S TIME TO MOVE.

It’s officially official.  We’re moving to Providence at the end of this month.  We have given our current landlord a move-out date, we have scheduled the move with the movers, we have signed a lease, and we have sent a rent check.  We are moving.  In three weeks.  The to-do lists have begun, and…that’s all that’s begun.  The purging and packing will start any minute now.

Deep breaths.

Don, the world is so full of a number of things

Twice in two days I found myself wracking my brain to place a reference, and I was seriously starting to doubt my brain.  Thankfully, I was able to place both references (I actually got the first reference while I was worrying about the second), but it was a little worrisome.  The first one was an “ooh-wee-ooh-ooh” from an Arkells song that was tickling my brain.  It tickled John’s, too, so I wasn’t imagining it, and then Thursday, I managed to connect it to The Eagles, which I may have shouted across the hall, and John connected the last dot to “New York Minute”.

That was one solved, but the other one took another 24 hours.  I could hear someone saying, and getting steadily louder while doing it, something like “No, definitely not.  Decidedly not!” and then smaller, “Uh uh,” but I couldn’t figure out where that came from or exactly how it went.  Was it a cartoon?  An old movie?  I was confident it was something from growing up, so if anyone could help me, Mindy could.  I texted her, but I didn’t have enough information, and she didn’t get it.  So that bugged me for an entire day, and then Friday morning, while I was making coffee, I got a glimpse of a hat and a piano and DING DING DING!  It’s from Singin’ In The Rain, in the intro to “Make ‘Em Laugh”, and I was SO RELIEVED.

I’m not losing my mind yet.

Mystery solved

I figured it out!  No, I don’t have a baby chest-burster lost in my skull (thanks, Michelle, for the image – that’ll linger).  I rode today, and when I ride, I wear a helmet.  When I wear a helmet, I put my hair in a ponytail, and the helmet goes on over the base of the ponytail.  Some days I don’t get the placement just right, and midway through my lesson I become aware of this painful pressure in one spot near the base of my skull.  I forget about it as soon as I take the helmet off, relieving the pressure, but apparently that 45 minutes or so of pressure leaves a lasting sensitive spot.  That must have happened last Friday.  I don’t remember that specifically, but I definitely remember that pain from other lessons, so I’m willing to go with this theory.  My odds of survival are better with this theory.

I got the placement of my ponytail right today – no pain, no fear of aliens.  Well, no pain.

Can’t brain today

Staring blankly at the screen is not going to make an idea appear.  It’s like watching a pot, and MAN that was a hard one for me to think up.  First sentence written, second sentence totally blocked.  I got stuck on the pot adjective.  It’s like watching what KIND of pot?  What describes the pot?  This is a saying – “like watching a _____ pot” – what’s the missing word?

Oh, right.

A watched pot.  Totally screwed up that idiom.  (You’re an idiom.  Your MOM’S an idiom.)  I think maybe I need some sleep.  6am felt earlier today than usual, and work felt more overwhelming, and I went to yoga for the first time in a week, and I could feel it, and 6am is going to come even earlier tomorrow, so I’m out.  Me and my watched pot are going to bed.

I’ve never lost my keys

I meant to post last night.  We were downstairs, watching TV, eating homemade chicken wings (not terribly good ones), and I thought, I’ll post after I climb into bed. I already knew what I was going to write about; this would be easy.  I even thought about how convenient it was that my laptop was already upstairs.  But when I got upstairs, I got into bed and fell asleep without a single twinge of Wasn’t I going to do something?

So here we are, 7am, dark and cold as usual, and last night’s episode either means I’m losing my mind or that I have successfully rid myself of the pressure to post every day.  I prefer to think it’s the latter.

You can have last night’s post tomorrow.  Or maybe tonight, if I get to it.  Probably tomorrow.  Teaser: it’s about food!

Like a 5-year-old

We’re watching (and enjoying) Stranger Things on Netflix, but last night I startled awake out of a really freaky show-fueled nightmare.  The show is eerie, mostly not scary, and while I’m watching it, I’m okay, but apparently one part of it got in my head.  In my dream, that part of the show was standing over my side of the bed, and – yeah, okay, I’m not writing about it anymore.  It’s creeping me out again, and it’s daylight outside.

John would like to know when I’m planning to stop having nightmares like a little kid.  The shot of adrenaline he got when I practically screamed my way awake kept him up for another half-hour in the middle of the night.  He can just deal.  At least he wasn’t afraid of the dark the rest of the night.  I made him go with me when I got up to pee.  He guarded the door.  (Man, I am acting like a little kid.)

I’m okay now.  I survived.  Of course, that was only last night, and it hasn’t gotten dark again since then…

Wind-up toy

Getting out the door to go the gym was a bit of a production today.  I broke a nail putting on my shoes.  Where are my clippers?  They must be upstairs.  Nope, not upstairs.  Oh, here they are in the downstairs bathroom.  Now where’s my nail file?  Not in the downstairs bathroom.  Upstairs?  Nope.  Maybe I’ll use John’s.  In his office?  Nope.  Upstairs?  Nope.  Never mind.  Skip that part.  Okay, I’m going to listen to music on my phone.  Where are my headphones?  John, have you seen my headphones?  No.  Not on my desk either.  Upstairs?  Nope.  Could they be in the car?  Nope.  Oh, they’re in my purse.  Fine, I’m ready to go.  Got my headphones, my phone, my keys.  Out the door, lock the door, grab my bike….where’s my helmet?  Back inside, helmet’s in the basement.

That’s what?…four trips upstairs and one trip to the basement in about three minutes.  Who needs the gym?

Away with March

Today is the last day of March.  There’s something about March 31st that tickles my memory, but I can’t quite get to what it is.  Maybe it’s nothing, a phantom itch.  I googled it, which didn’t help, but did provide a bunch of random facts.

  • Ewan McGregor, Al Gore, Christopher Walken, Angus Young, and Johann Sebastian Bach were all born on this day.
  • The Eiffel Tower opened on March 31st.
  • It’s Dance Marathon Day AND National Farm Workers Day.
  • The US took possession of the Virgin Islands.
  • Ford debuted the V-8 engine.
  • LaGuardia Airport opened.
  • Okay, that’s enough.

I’m done with facts and clearly too lazy to provide links and NONE of that helped me figure out what I’m trying to remember.  Let’s just assume it’s nothing until I hear otherwise.  March 31st is like any other day.  Go about your business.

Panic panic panic panic panic panic

Panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic stress panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic No, everything is under control.  All I have to do is laundry and pack a suitcase and put signs on everything that stays in the apartment and make sure our stuff is in the car before the movers arrive and panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic What have I forgotten? Panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic

At least it’s not work panic.  And it’ll be over soon. Oh, and I’m okay now.  Got it out of my system.

The all-out pre-trip panic has begun

Eeeek!  Traveling!  Making decisions!  Big ones that are exciting!  But I can’t be excited because we haven’t left yet and I haven’t packed and we’re making appointments to see places and we’re working tomorrow before we leave and I’ve learned that lesson before and WHY haven’t I applied it yet?

To keep the panic to a minimum, this will be short so I can breathe.  And pack.  And breathe.

Tomorrow (Wednesday) will be better because I will be packed.  I will be packed.  I will be packed.  (It’s my new mantra.)

Sidetracked

This afternoon, I got up from my desk in our front room and headed to the kitchen with the express purpose of checking our tomatoes to still if they’re still edible.  The kitchen is two rooms away.  As I walked through the room in between, I remembered that tomorrow is Thursday and immediately thought, “Yay Thursday!”  I started thinking about how much I like Thursdays.  They’re such nice days, announcing the upcoming weekend but without all the stress of trying to get ALL THE WORK done before the weekend (which is why I’m less in love with Fridays).  They’re friendly days, nonthreatening days.  I did a little Thursday happy dance (premature, but maybe I was practicing for tomorrow), and by the time I was done, I was through the kitchen and standing in our bedroom, with NO memory of why I’d gotten up in the first place.

It came back to me within a few seconds, and yes, the tomatoes are still edible (I know you were wondering), but DUDE.  Am I flaky?  Just old?

A lesson in how to overuse parentheses in a single paragraph

Remember how I ordered stuff from Athleta on that one day everything was on super-sale?  Well, one thing was supposed to arrive by this Friday (the Friday that hasn’t gotten here yet), and the other four things weren’t supposed to arrive until the 14th.  Last night (Tuesday night), we heard a knock on our door (which pretty much always makes us cringe and consider pretending no one is home – don’t bother us!  We’re very anti-social, and we don’t like surprise visits!  Also, we don’t have a peephole!  I’m opening that door blind every time!  Granted, we have a keypad lock on the front door of the house, but still!  Enough with the exclamation points!  Gah!), and when we opened it, our upstairs neighbor handed me a package.  Yay stuff!  It was from Athleta, early no matter what it was, and I assumed it was the first item arriving a few days early.  I was wrong!  (I know you didn’t see that coming.  It’s so rare.)  The package contained my other four things, to my excitement.

I was ultimately disappointed (a little – I’ll be okay).  Everything fits, and I’m going to keep them, but I ordered on-sale clothes that are much more suited for the spring/fall temperatures we were enjoying before this week.  I didn’t think that through.  Winter has set in, and I won’t be wearing 3-quarter sleeve shirts, tank tops, or sleeveless dresses for quite a while.  Not sure where my brain went – I bought a sleeveless dress on New Year’s Day.  But the fifth thing (that’s supposed to arrive Friday) is pants!  …Lightweight…pants…