It's Life and Five Things Make a Post
So this is my life every day.
1) I get to do one thing per day.
I can either work for 7+ hours, or I can run the thousand errands that make up a life. I can work for 7+ hours and make dinner, or I can spend the day/evening plodding inexorably through the second revision of my novel (which is torturous). I can have the day off spent napping and recovering from the past five days of work on my feet and maybe clean A Thing (bathroom/fridge/my room/vacuum/change my sheets/something). So even though my ex has been asking me to send him his knives, which I fully intend to do... if you know our local post office (much as I deplore Yelp, those reviews are not in any way exaggerating or embellishing--it really is that truly awful, and I adore the USPS--I can feel my will to live draining out through the soles of my feets every moment I am in queue at this particular PO station), you know that work, then local post office, is way more than I can do in a day. I cannot emphasize enough how much Parliament (not Funkadelic) impinges upon my life in the form of fatigue and roiling abdominal pain... every damned day.
I get to do one thing per day, and going to the PO from hell ain't one of them.
I am so glad that the person I've been training the past couple of days was in today, because I was having a Screamy Parliament (not Funkadelic) morning. It was, apparently, Question Time in Parliament this morning and I wasn't sure I'd make it through the day.
Fibroids, more than one of them, really sap your lifeforce. I am trying so hard to behave "normally", but I am confined by even more restrictive physical impediments than I had before. And I hate them. I feel weak, and I deplore that, but ... I am weak, and I am manifestly unwell, moreso ever so much moreso than I was in 2005 when we exorcised Reagan-Shoggoth. I am much weaker, and in so many more ways than I was in 2005, not the least of which is that Thatcher brought a whole lot of Parliament with her.
I'm still waiting on a callback from the community health clinic I was referred to. Yep, I have called back and left several messages, but still no reply at all.
2) I am amazed that anyone can still see the architecture of Chicago, as I've been papering it with copies of my resume. Get a real job or for fuck's sake, win the fucking lottery.
3) Delia Blue was so enamored of chasing the Red Dot last night, that she pitched herself at it and got stuck between the bed and the wall. Just a few weeks ago, she would have slipped through to Under the Bed with no problems. But she's growing. At nine months though she's, like most cats, probably pretty close to the size she's gonna be as an adult--and Delia's still quite small. We'll see.
4) Dinner tonight:
Hanger steak ($5), pan fried, with buckwheat soba noodles ($2.99 for the package) and Annie's Asian Ginger dressing; I heartily and unreservedly endorse all "Annie's" label products.
.
OMG so good.
5) A friend of mine moved away recently, and filled our larder with numerous goods he'd canned hisowndamnedself. It'll take us ages to work though all of this.
1) I get to do one thing per day.
I can either work for 7+ hours, or I can run the thousand errands that make up a life. I can work for 7+ hours and make dinner, or I can spend the day/evening plodding inexorably through the second revision of my novel (which is torturous). I can have the day off spent napping and recovering from the past five days of work on my feet and maybe clean A Thing (bathroom/fridge/my room/vacuum/change my sheets/something). So even though my ex has been asking me to send him his knives, which I fully intend to do... if you know our local post office (much as I deplore Yelp, those reviews are not in any way exaggerating or embellishing--it really is that truly awful, and I adore the USPS--I can feel my will to live draining out through the soles of my feets every moment I am in queue at this particular PO station), you know that work, then local post office, is way more than I can do in a day. I cannot emphasize enough how much Parliament (not Funkadelic) impinges upon my life in the form of fatigue and roiling abdominal pain... every damned day.
I get to do one thing per day, and going to the PO from hell ain't one of them.
I am so glad that the person I've been training the past couple of days was in today, because I was having a Screamy Parliament (not Funkadelic) morning. It was, apparently, Question Time in Parliament this morning and I wasn't sure I'd make it through the day.
Fibroids, more than one of them, really sap your lifeforce. I am trying so hard to behave "normally", but I am confined by even more restrictive physical impediments than I had before. And I hate them. I feel weak, and I deplore that, but ... I am weak, and I am manifestly unwell, moreso ever so much moreso than I was in 2005 when we exorcised Reagan-Shoggoth. I am much weaker, and in so many more ways than I was in 2005, not the least of which is that Thatcher brought a whole lot of Parliament with her.
I'm still waiting on a callback from the community health clinic I was referred to. Yep, I have called back and left several messages, but still no reply at all.
2) I am amazed that anyone can still see the architecture of Chicago, as I've been papering it with copies of my resume. Get a real job or for fuck's sake, win the fucking lottery.
3) Delia Blue was so enamored of chasing the Red Dot last night, that she pitched herself at it and got stuck between the bed and the wall. Just a few weeks ago, she would have slipped through to Under the Bed with no problems. But she's growing. At nine months though she's, like most cats, probably pretty close to the size she's gonna be as an adult--and Delia's still quite small. We'll see.
4) Dinner tonight:
Hanger steak ($5), pan fried, with buckwheat soba noodles ($2.99 for the package) and Annie's Asian Ginger dressing; I heartily and unreservedly endorse all "Annie's" label products.
.
OMG so good.
5) A friend of mine moved away recently, and filled our larder with numerous goods he'd canned hisowndamnedself. It'll take us ages to work though all of this.