At first I thought it was (just) allergy season that had my eye twitching and my skin flaring up in a rash and making me an itchy, twitchy bitch. But as it turns out, all the symptoms are tied to one person’s antics.
Benadryl doesn’t chase away The Stupid, but it sure lets you sleep through it for a couple of hours!
So I figured I’d put a call in to the Muse to help me write something interesting today.
*cue the crickets*
Boy what a day. Everyone’s in the same mood, and it ain’t an ebullient one. I think everyone’s exhausted, running on empty, frustrated, overwhelmed, underwhelmed, confused, chasing their tails, waiting to catch a break, dreading taking a break and being forced to catch up, and just plain unimpressed.
On one hand, I think we’re all building up things to be a lot harder and/or a lot better than they really are. But on the other hand, we don’t want to set our expectations too low because we (or others) might not stretch as far as we/they can to rise to whatever occasion we want to celebrate but dare not envision.
Today’s one of those days that I’m ready to close my eyes to the fine print and swallow a heaping dose of “I believe in Santa Claus” and hope I’m not one of those who experiences any adverse side effects. Because secretly, I’ve always believed. But now, it’s time to declare it for the world to know. …
goddess a. — Thanks for hanging around to give me an extra read on this thing.
goddess a. — You’re the patron saint of late-night edits!
goddess a. — *bows humbly before you*
friend — Aw, that’s a load of crap.
goddess a. — Now that’s what I’m the patron saint of!
So I guess I got a couple of granules of kitty litter in my pantyhose, as I thought my new high heels were what were irritating the shit out of me as I drove to work, but now that I look at it, the fucking cats leave their mark — again! *grr*
But before you can let something so trivial impact your day, you’ve got to look for the balance. A favorite colleague just left a buttload of premium cat food on my desk for my girls. Awww, how sweet is that? I wonder if it’s the recalled pet food — if so, they’re getting ALL of it tonight! 😉
In any event, unrelated but important because I am a girl and all, I just bought Bath and Body Works’ iced tea scented hand lotion. And while it’s deliciously yummy-smelling — it really does remind you of lemon iced tea — it dries out my skin more than if I hadn’t used any in the first place. What is UP with that?
I forgot to knock on wood a few weeks ago when I declared my allergies weren’t bothering me. Because now? I’m crabby and itchy and congested. Good times.
I tried to fall asleep watching TV, although laughing at the women of the “Flavor of Love Charm School” kept me awake. What I find funny is that they kick off the women with the least class. Personally, I’d kick off the well-adjusted ones (I use “well-adjusted” rather loosely, in this case) because it’s the rest of ’em who NEED some social graces.
My friend from the West Coast just called to say that my niece is channeling me. Which, duh. The first story was that the 3 1/2-year-old declared that she was taking her toy in the car. But they told her there was no room in the backseat, to which she replied, “Um, it wasn’t a question.” Ha!
But the better story, of course, was when her dad told her to sit on the couch and be still. She cocked her head, looked at him and said in a droll tone, “Eat me.”
They immediately decided she had just channeled Aunt Goddess. I guess I do say that a little often, but as I’ve never said it around the wee one, she’s just reading my mind, apparently!
I hate it that I’m so alert at night. I can’t get to sleep worth a damn. But then I drag through the whole rest of the day when I’m *supposed* to be alert. Dang it.
It’s been a strange couple of weeks, but I think equilibrium is restored somewhat. Although, did I really want to get back to status quo? Not especially, if I were to be quite honest about it. But today I sort of got a glimpse of the fact that the world’s turning at the pace it should be, even if it doesn’t feel like it sometimes.
I think I get frustrated when things don’t move at lightning speed — like a colleague and I joke, the two of us equal seven employees in any other company, we achieve so much, so quickly. I sort of expect that velocity to spill over into the rest of the world, and it drives me nuts when it doesn’t keep the pace.
But when I think about it some more, it almost seems like everything is going by too quickly, in a way. On one hand, I’m driving in the HOV lane, and other times, I’m stuck in Beltway traffic. I just try to have fun, right where I’m standing, even if it’s hard to concentrate if I’m hopping around in one place, itching to go in a direction and not knowing which one to choose and hoping that if I let it choose me instead, I can let it lead the way to wherever I’m supposed to be.
I used to stay uber-super late at work so that I could finish up everything and come in to a clean slate. But now that I have more projects than a normal person should, I find I work less. Not a LOT less, mind you — I still like collecting a paycheck, thankyouverymuch. But the pressure to clear off my desk by day’s end (whatever time that ending should come) has come and gone. No matter how much I tackle, it ain’t even close to making a dent in the to-do list.
I’m in taskmaster mode this week, but there’s another part of me that would rather be outside enjoying the summer-like weather. Maybe I’ll call it a day at 9 p.m. instead of 10. …
I was bitching to Pisco the other night about a particular waste of flesh and bones, and how the world would be better off if someone in particular would just fall off the earth already but I didn’t have it in me to jeopardize my karma by wishing for it. And like he said, “Here’s what you do. Say, ‘Dear God, please give this asshole what he deserves!'”
Good lord, I’m now praying AND saving my karma? Sweet!
As Virginia Tech students prepare to resume classes after last week’s unthinkable acts, a freshman who had gone to spend the week with his family to decompress after the shootings died in a car crash.
I have about 40 billion things that need to be washed, and I keep forgetting that I have a washer and dryer. In my place. Like, no more excuses, Goddess. No more, “Aw, hell, my favorite jeans are dirty — I’ll just go buy new ones!”
Of course, perhaps if I’d unstack the boxes from in front of the W/D, maybe I’d actually remember that it’s there. 😉
Unpacking is going so slowly. As I empty the boxes, the lack o’ furniture sort of bugs me. I meant to fit in furniture-shopping this weekend, but I know exactly what I want and where I plan to buy it from, but the closest store location? Not so close. Why can’t you just order online already? So what if it’s uncomfortable — I’m trying to do a color scheme here!
Actually, I am sort of at a loss over color. I was admiring a red microfiber couch/loveseat set. But then I came across a black and gray microfiber set, and I sort of liked it better. Probably because it cost more! 😉
Truth be told, the reason I didn’t get to furniture-shop was because I happened to, oh, meander into an Apple store. And visited the MacBook family. Which will cost more than a stupid couch, of course, but ah, pretty. *swoon* Damn it for fininte resources!!!
What else? Oh yeah, I went out for a Brazilian last night — barbecue, that is.
Pisco dazzled me before the meal with images of succulent meat being brought to us at the table, to our heart’s delight, and that had me salivating as I made the journey to that area. Dear self: Next time? Skip the buffet o’ side dishes. Just wait for the meat.
They give you a wooden thing painted like a stop light — red at the top, yellow in the middle, green at the bottom. When you want to be included in the rounds o’ meat delivery, the green side is up. When you’ve eaten enough that the button on your jeans threatens to blind your dinner companion, the red goes up. I put that indicator thingy in my purse — it’s got to be good for dates! Talking/stop talking. Molesting/no molesting. Hee!
So, what else can I actually talk about? Oh, I know. Farging catty litter. Needed supplies for the girls, and that included a 25-pound thing of litter. Which, as I got it to the lobby of my place, hit the floor when the flimsy handle off of it broke. Yay.
Luckily, I had also bought a new litter box, so I scooped as much up with my hands as I could and had to run for a broom/dustpan to get (most of) the rest. Did I mention I wore a skirt today, as it was 70 degrees in the nation’s capital? My apologies to the neighbors for having to see my ass up in the air, but does the day qualify as a waste of cute gutchies if they at least came in handy?
On a serious note, I ended up hiring movers. I didn’t mention my plans on the blog because, well, I wanted to be safe and sound in my new base camp before I mentioned the transition had occurred. What’s amazing to me is that I had nearly a dozen people offer to help (but I wanted to move on a weekday, so I turned them down. But wow! Great friends!), not to mention those who didn’t realize I already moved and are offering now. I’m a lucky girl, I tell ya, and I’m grateful.
Maybe when there’s furniture, I might actually throw a party. And maybe I’ll invite other people to it! I still have a bottle of Sangiovese that was meant to celebrate my suriviving this ordeal — if I could just figure out which box it’s in, I’d be an even happier girl. …
It’s like Twitter, but recorded for posterity.
Sweet Jesus, it’s another one!
The timeline continues below the fold — it’s quite a day to behold. …
What’s left of my memories of yesterday:
6:30 a.m. — Make coffee
6:35 a.m. — Check e-mail for morning copy to edit; nada
6:40 a.m. — Coffee’s done … oh God DAMN it — I brewed water with no coffee grounds!