The Longest Day
It was yesterday, but by the time I got back home, I flopped into my bed and conked right out. Happy belated anniversary to ayse and squeezehead. (Four years? Time flies.)
I woke up at 1:30 with a sore throat. Gaaah. I had some OTC medication and went back to sleep. Got out of bed a little before 8.
I'm glad that I managed to get my coffee and send out an important email before 9 am. At about 9:10, I had three calls on my cell at once. Not one but two recruiters wanted to talk with me about long-term contracts. The rest of the day sort of worked like that; no breakfast till noon, and was in quite a pother the rest of the day. I needed to finish thank-yous and was struck by an anxiety attack, combined with a sinus headache, at the time I should have been hopping on a BART train to San Bruno (in-face meeting with recruiter). Had to do some deep breathing, because nothing was where I wanted it to be.
I parked on Acton instead of the station lot, because I know when the cops come through and do the ticketing for two-hour parking and I wanted to save the buck. As I was crossing Delaware to get to the station, my shadow fell in front of me, with a halo-type circle surrounding my head. When I got to the parking lot, it was gone. A trick of the light? Or some sort of sign? I haven't ever seen that effect, but then these days I don't often walk with my head down, either.
Tried reading on the train, but settled for relaxation. It was a long ride.
I was late showing up at church, because I was late getting to and thus getting back from San Bruno (seeing the new part of the BART line was cool) but did manage to squeeze a call in and let people know. I was fit to be tied when I finally showed up (to top things off, my hand started itching on the train, and I almost had to sit on it to stop scratching). The familiar rhythms of setting out for a service and preparing a meal helped me start calming down. (The textile junkie also had something fab-yoo-lous to admire. No piccies, alas.) After setting the tables (plural fully intended), I plunked my sweaty, cranky, tired ass onto a chair in the back of the chapel, and mostly listened to a 1549 Book of Common Prayer communion service (mostly listening is what the laypeople did). There was extra (well, by my standards) exhortation about proper preparation for coming to the table, which was probably useful for me at the moment. I sat, and let it wash over me. I admired the golden afternoon light in the chapel, and the play of it on the gold of the vestments. I became more at peace.
Afterwards I felt a lot more chipper and cleaned up with good heart (chatting with M about some of the deeeetails), and then toodled in for dinner. Gypsy stew a la Moosewood, cornbread, and salad. I was "off the clock", more or less (I think I moved some furniture around later).
A young couple from the church came in during dinner; we learned that their flat had burned the day before, which was doubly shocking to me because I thought they lived on my cross street and I was thinking "Did I hear the firetruck? Where was I?" (They lived on the other end of the park.) They weren't there, and their cats survived - one ran away, but was found later. They are doing house-sitting and the like while the place is fixed, have a space for storage, and the like. It certainly put my Major Crankiness in perspective.
I did feel better when I woke up this morning - had started the vinegar tea and hydrogen peroxide regimes when I got home, and did it again at about 6:30 am before I decided to go back to sleep. Sneezy and drooly, but not tired grumpy.
I woke up at 1:30 with a sore throat. Gaaah. I had some OTC medication and went back to sleep. Got out of bed a little before 8.
I'm glad that I managed to get my coffee and send out an important email before 9 am. At about 9:10, I had three calls on my cell at once. Not one but two recruiters wanted to talk with me about long-term contracts. The rest of the day sort of worked like that; no breakfast till noon, and was in quite a pother the rest of the day. I needed to finish thank-yous and was struck by an anxiety attack, combined with a sinus headache, at the time I should have been hopping on a BART train to San Bruno (in-face meeting with recruiter). Had to do some deep breathing, because nothing was where I wanted it to be.
I parked on Acton instead of the station lot, because I know when the cops come through and do the ticketing for two-hour parking and I wanted to save the buck. As I was crossing Delaware to get to the station, my shadow fell in front of me, with a halo-type circle surrounding my head. When I got to the parking lot, it was gone. A trick of the light? Or some sort of sign? I haven't ever seen that effect, but then these days I don't often walk with my head down, either.
Tried reading on the train, but settled for relaxation. It was a long ride.
I was late showing up at church, because I was late getting to and thus getting back from San Bruno (seeing the new part of the BART line was cool) but did manage to squeeze a call in and let people know. I was fit to be tied when I finally showed up (to top things off, my hand started itching on the train, and I almost had to sit on it to stop scratching). The familiar rhythms of setting out for a service and preparing a meal helped me start calming down. (The textile junkie also had something fab-yoo-lous to admire. No piccies, alas.) After setting the tables (plural fully intended), I plunked my sweaty, cranky, tired ass onto a chair in the back of the chapel, and mostly listened to a 1549 Book of Common Prayer communion service (mostly listening is what the laypeople did). There was extra (well, by my standards) exhortation about proper preparation for coming to the table, which was probably useful for me at the moment. I sat, and let it wash over me. I admired the golden afternoon light in the chapel, and the play of it on the gold of the vestments. I became more at peace.
Afterwards I felt a lot more chipper and cleaned up with good heart (chatting with M about some of the deeeetails), and then toodled in for dinner. Gypsy stew a la Moosewood, cornbread, and salad. I was "off the clock", more or less (I think I moved some furniture around later).
A young couple from the church came in during dinner; we learned that their flat had burned the day before, which was doubly shocking to me because I thought they lived on my cross street and I was thinking "Did I hear the firetruck? Where was I?" (They lived on the other end of the park.) They weren't there, and their cats survived - one ran away, but was found later. They are doing house-sitting and the like while the place is fixed, have a space for storage, and the like. It certainly put my Major Crankiness in perspective.
I did feel better when I woke up this morning - had started the vinegar tea and hydrogen peroxide regimes when I got home, and did it again at about 6:30 am before I decided to go back to sleep. Sneezy and drooly, but not tired grumpy.