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Oh, my creakin' cranium.

I knew this week was going to suck pond water through a flavor straw. Monday was OK, and then I went to chorus rehearsal and got home at 10:30, but couldn't decompress enough to sleep until midnight. Dragged myself out of bed on Tuesday morning and spent the whole day with oatmeal where my brain was.

Tuesday night I managed to stay up late enough to go to bed at a reasonable hour, and slept like a rock. Woke up on Wednesday morning feeling human, went to work and got stuff done (oh, look, there are two different versions of Standard 2-7 in this document; that's not good), and then I went to chorus rehearsal and got home at 10:30, and had to concentrate too hard on decompressing by 11:30.

This morning I had a weird dream about trying to fly from Barbados to Guam and having my luggage come off the plane in Barbados as individual articles of clothing on the conveyor belt, but no suitcase. Then they found my suitcase and wanted to know why there were embroidery scissors in the lining. I explained that by pulling embroidery out of the lining too, although I don't know why I was keeping it there (and I never take scissors on a plane; I use nail clippers). It was a pattern I've never seen before, but it was very pretty and there was about half of it done. I wish I could remember exactly what it was, so I could write it down and stitch it. It was geometry and flowers.

Today I have systemic oatmeal; it's in my muscles and my brain, but I'm a little better mentally than I was on Tuesday. I still am not breaking any records for brain power and I'm not even trying to revise any complicated documents, but I can at least go to meetings and pretend I know what the hell is going on. Just don't ask me whether I want to be in the meetings in the first place.
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Friday was actually a good day, to the point where on Friday night I was feeling pleased with myself for getting through a large slice of the self-study, and I got paid on Friday, and it was the weekend, and it was nice outdoors. And my boss kicked me out of the office at 4:45, having bought me some iced tea from Starbucks besides. I spent my extra 15 minutes paying all the bills when I got home, and it was so nice out that I went out for dinner afterward. I couldn't decide between Korean and Vietnamese noodles, but it ended up being Vietnamese at the Super 88 in the form of summer rolls AND rice noodle salad. That was more food than I probably should have eaten, but I ate all of it and didn't feel overstuffed.

On Saturday morning I had a carrot and a piece of lemon cake for breakfast, and wondered why the hell there wasn't any food in the house. Because I felt icky last weekend and didn't go grocery shopping, that's why. So I went grocery shopping and got rather carried away, but managed not to buy canned cat food because TJ's didn't have that. This is getting ridiculous; I had to mail-order dry cat food last week because Petco hadn't had that for two weeks. I still have at least half a case of wet food, though, so it won't be a disaster for another month. Since I went grocery shopping in sandals, I gave myself blisters, and I had to come home and do laundry so I could go out again in clean non-wool socks. It was too hot for wool socks.

On Sunday I observed that the container I keep my change collection in was just about full, so I wandered off to the Coinstar machine and came away with $83 in cash. That's about right, because the container tends to hold about $90 and Coinstar machines gouge you on "processing fees". Oh well. I would sprain something carrying $83 in change around everywhere, and I don't think the credit union would cash in change for me. After that (and getting rained on, because of course I was outdoors for the ten minutes yesterday when it rained), I came home and cooked chickpeas and made a non-cruciferous bean salad (chickpeas, not quite enough dried tomatoes, absolutely not enough feta, chives, lemon juice, a teeny little bit of smoked olive oil, and less black pepper than I thought). Someday I will figure out what the hell is wrong with my pepper mill; it likes to dispense pepper all over the place behind whatever vessel I'm trying to grind pepper into.

The embroidery continues to go like gangbusters. Some of that is because I'm into the actual tree, and it has definite areas of single colors and I can see progress when I do that (as opposed to the bits where five stitches in a single color is a lot, and then you stand across the room and see leaves, instead of random blobs). Progress is happy stuff.
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This morning I wanted to know what sort of sacrifice the weather gods required before it could be sunny in the morning. As of lunchtime, it was gorgeous out, and after my lunch meeting (indifferent pizza, again) I escaped out into it for as long as it took to go to JP Licks and back. I wish I could have stayed outdoors for the rest of the afternoon, especially because I feel like I earned it. I got 50 pages of Standards 2-1 through 2-7 edited before 10:00 this morning, and then I went to a 10:00 meeting.

I particularly wanted that project out of my hair because I'm going to be no use to anybody next week. Fortunately the Monday chorus rehearsal got rearranged, so the chorus doesn't have to show up until 7:45. That's still a long night because the rehearsal goes until 10:00, but at least I'll have time to eat and actually digest my dinner beforehand. Wednesday is going to be 6:15 - 10:00, with a ten-minute break in it somewhere, and that's LONG. Especially for singers, and particularly in Sanders Theater in which it's pretty dry. The inside of my head usually feels like the Gobi Desert by the end of a rehearsal that long.

However, that's Wednesday. Today's Friday, and tonight I get to do my favorite ritual of the whole weekend: turning off the alarm clock before I go to bed. It did not particularly help anything that I fell down another internet rabbit hole last night and forced myself to go to bed when I looked up again and discovered it was midnight.

I'm looking forward to half an hour from now, when the most urgent problem I will have is whether I want japchae or pho for dinner.
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I had a conversation with a coworker that led me into looking up whether there's a French translation of The Phantom Tollbooth. There is, and now I want to read it to find out if it's any good.

While I was cleaning out my bookshelves in the decluttering process, I discovered the copy of L'Oiseau Bleu that I kept because I wanted to try translating it. I kept it again, because I still want to take a crack at it some day.

This train of thought came about because I'm trying to wrap my brain around revising 38 pages of the accreditation self-study. It's rather like wading through peanut butter because (among other reasons) it was written by one person who doesn't write all that well and another person who doesn't type all that well. I have to figure out what they're trying to say, whether they actually said it, make it say that if not, and then elaborate on it. At least there's something there to build on. (There had better be; this thing goes to the printer in July and if we had only just started it now, nobody would be going home until then.)

OK, several years later, I think I'm making progress. Everything I don't know enough to write about is a thing I'm not supposed to know about.

Wish I had a feline/English dictionary, part N+1: Last night Snip was absolutely adamant that I come keep her company while she had her before-bed snack, and after that she was absolutely adamant that any part of me she could reach while she was standing on the bed and I was lying in it had to be headbutted and rubbed on. I have no idea what that was about. But I guess it means she's still speaking to me.
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I seem to have had a 48-hour virus on Friday and Saturday, because while I've had muscle spasms, intractable headaches, unhappy intestines, heartburn, and a couple of other various symptoms before, I've never had them all at once before. There were maybe two hours of Saturday when I didn't have a headache, and I missed the March for Science. Fortunately, when I woke up on Sunday, I felt positively human again. And the weather was better on Sunday besides.

Petco persists in not having the right kind of dry cat food, because their suppliers seem to persist in not having it. I bought some regular indoor dry food, as opposed to the fancy indoor dry food, and since it's the same brand I hope it doesn't upset things too much. Snip will probably eat it if she figures out that that's all there is, and Lily will eat anything as long as it pretends it's poultry-flavored. (I have got to get video of her eating her morning thyroid pill; she really does act like she's eating chicken-flavored peanut butter.)

The embroidery is going like gangbusters lately. I finished page 4 and put a reasonably good dent in page 5 yesterday. I still can't decide if I want to cut down the linen once I get one complete row of pages done. It would be nice if I didn't have to wrangle the entire half yard all the time, and I have masking tape that's younger than Lily so I don't have to argue with it so much when I want to bind raw edges. But cutting fabric with completed embroidery on it gives me the blue creevles.

I went to the DTP tutors meeting, which involved a lot of discussion about TMJ-related tutorial cases, and now I'm very aware of my jaw. Silly brain.
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Sometimes I have to laugh, or otherwise I'll cry.

86 the bean salad; my coworkers object to the smell of it (cauliflower) and it's too cold out to eat it outdoors. So I have a lot of bean salad I have to eat for dinner or throw away.

I have been working on revisions and reformats to an article for submission to the JDE. Today I got it back with final edits and all I have to do is delete one reference, renumber all the rest of them because deleting one throws off the numbering, delete one table and the paragraph that talks about it, reformat all the section headings and subheadings, and submit the thing online (which is a Process all by itself).

Then there's the article I just got, with instructions to "reformat for the JDE". All the references are in alphabetical order and formatted for the EJDE. So I have to number them in the order they appear in the article, and reorder and reformat the references list. Oh, and this article has no conclusion, so I have to write one, and no authors list, so I can't make a title page. And by the way, it has seven tables and four figures, and the JDE won't accept more than four tables and (I think) three figures. And I have to reformat all the section headings.

AND, did anybody give me any questions for the POH retake exam? No? Well, I'm going to get them, because it's happening tomorrow. At least I had heard of it before, so it wasn't a complete bolt from the blue.

AND, the tutors for Diagnosis and Treatment Planning are having a meeting on Monday, so please find a room and some lunch.

AND, the Year 2 course directors are having a two-hour lunch meeting next Thursday, so please send them the final course feedback surveys, which the students have roundly ignored because they're getting surveyed to death, and prepare to spend two hours in the meeting taking minutes.

AND, which version of the HSDM Competencies is the current one? And is it final yet? And what about the grading policy, is that final yet? And please put the competencies in this document in which you already put all the examination methods per course, but it's not the same version as the document you created last year, so you'll have to do it there too, and ask the Registrar to update the list with all courses from both curricula so you can fill in all the information for the old curriculum.

AND...

*whimper*
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I had plans to be outdoors for a lot of the long weekend, but they got called as of mid-Sunday because my left ankle went out on me again.

On Friday night I went to Target and ended up buying yogurt and the DVD of Hidden Figures. I had to go to Staples for whiteout and Command strips, because Target had neither. Harumpf. But at least now I have whiteout, instead of that stupid whiteout ribbon thing that never gets whiteout where I want it. And if I ever get around to hanging up art at home, I can do it without putting holes in the plaster. Since I decluttered the place, there's more blank wall I can get at, and it cries out for art on it.

On Saturday I went out and got my hairs cut, and decided to grow them out again because it takes too much work to keep them short. And then I went grocery shopping and failed to buy tea for lack of it, went to the bookstore and bought one used and one new, and went to the pet store and failed to buy cat food for lack of that. I decided that since there were several million dogs all over the place in the pet store and the staff were all busy wrangling them (which would have amused me if I hadn't been disgruntled about lack of cat food), I would try again on Sunday.

As of Sunday, the supplier for the pet store didn't have any of the kind of cat food I want, and that's not good. That was also when my ankle went out, so I limped off home again and spent the rest of the afternoon muttering imprecations every time I put weight on my left foot.

Yesterday I cooked beans and made lunch for the week (bean salad: black-eyed peas, roasted cauliflower and zucchini, approximately half a ton of fresh parsley, 1/4 cup of lemon juice, and some garlic and black pepper) and did the dishes three or four times as a result, and played most of a game of Civ 5 (unless I cannon up quite a lot and declare war on somebody, I think I might win it by time running out, because I can't seem to get anything else really going well) and did less embroidering than I really wanted to. Oh, and I did the laundry. And watched Hidden Figures, which is a reasonably good movie even if it does have Kevin Costner in it. So far Hidden Figures and Silverado are the only two movies I've seen in which Kevin Costner isn't playing Kevin Costner.

This morning I woke up at an hour that shouldn't exist, on account of pain in several places in my left calf. Of course my half-awake brain thought it was DVT, but of course it isn't. It seems to have settled out into a couple of different muscle spasms as of getting-up time. I should probably start buying bananas again, and in retrospect I've been walking funny in various ways since before I went to Charleston, so of course various bits of me are complaining. More work for my massage therapist on Thursday.
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Good heavens, is it Friday already? Good for it. I did get things done at work this week, at least (including trying to figure out who the course and discipline directors were four years ago, right after I got this job, and before I knew which end was up). And I backed up my Misc Projects folder, which has the past four years of "other duties as necessary" documents in it. Publications and grant applications and recommendation letters and all the faculty retreat planning documents and so forth and so on. The folder lived on my desktop until I finally copied it onto the shared drive and put a shortcut on my desktop instead. This, of course, means that the shared drive will suffer a catastrophic failure sometime in the next month.

Among the things I got done while not at work was going to the chorus committee meeting last night and not saying anything when another member said they were advertising the concert in Connecticut. Nobody who doesn't know any of us is going to drive up here from Connecticut for 80 minutes of amateur classical music on a Friday night in May. But I didn't say it. (However, as Taker of the Minutes, I didn't write down the idea, either.)

I did go to rehearsal on Wednesday and didn't have to talk myself into it very much. I had to talk myself into going to the committee meeting, but I bribed myself by going to Bartley's first. The reuben burger is currently called the Car Talk, and hit the spot.

I'm taking Monday off, because I can't get home from work on account of the marathon. (Not entirely true; I can, but it's a pain in the ass getting across Beacon St at all on marathon day.) It looks like being a good weekend for merfing around outdoors, though. Some of that will definitely happen tomorrow because I have to get my hairs cut. I had better decide whether I want to get them cut short again and then grow them out, or start growing them out now.
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Back at work again, and actually getting things done for a change. I looked at my email on Thursday night when I got home (shame on me) and reduced 87 emails to 42 (I don't need all the "HMS in the News" and server update notifications and "I'll be in late last Wednesday" emails). By the time I got in this morning, I only had 56. And most of them didn't count. That's an acceptable Monday.

Now that I've spent last week eating everything in sight and gotten gluttony out of my system, it's time to Do Something And Mean It about the way my pants don't fit. I've done it once before, which means I can do it, so I'm going to do it. It can't be that hard to stop eating leftover meeting food from meetings I wasn't at. I shouldn't have stopped walking home from work, either, so starting that again can't hurt in the long run. In the short run it will, because I still have one spot on my left big toe knuckle that's healing but isn't currently happy with me.

It is gorgeous out. I should open two or three windows when I get home and get the Hairy Beasts drunk on fresh air. They haven't had any since February, and they get silly when they aren't used to it. I have to open at least two windows so they can each sit in one. Lily crammed herself onto the windowsill between the back of the futon and the (closed) living room window yesterday morning, and I had to go disturb her just so I knew she wasn't stuck back there. She usually only does that when the window is open and she has the windowsill and all the space before the screen to lounge around in. She wasn't stuck, she just wanted to charge up all her little furry solar cells. I firmly believe the Hairy Beasts are solar-powered, and apparently while I was gone they ran down, because since I got back they've been in any sunspot they can find.

Hopefully now that the weather is getting better and I've had a vacation, it won't be such a chore going to chorus rehearsals. I kept getting to Wednesday and finding my heart wasn't in it. It'll be over after May 5, so I don't have to keep hauling my carcass to Cambridge for much longer. I don't know why my heart isn't in it this semester; it's not that Mendelssohn is boring (in fact, he's sneaky; he looks easy, but he isn't), but I just haven't felt like putting in the work of actually singing for either conductor and I don't know why not.
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Charleston was lovely for vacation in April, but I don't think living there in August would be much fun. I may go back again on vacation someday, though.

I met a man from Reno walking down Tradd St with a camera while I was walking up it with a camera. He said he wasn't used to all these old buildings. I said I was used to old, but the stucco and palm trees were what I wasn't used to. I'm not used to privacy doors, either, and they amused me no end.

I'm also not used to horse-drawn carriage tours all over the place. I must say they have the whole system down to a science, or as close as it can come without using any technology more advanced than cell phones (with which you call a pickup truck with a great big water tank in the back, and they come and hose off the street where your horse has done the necessary). I went on two different tours with two different companies on two different days, and was carted around first by Riley (possibly a Percheron cross?) and then by Trevor (a Belgian with the biggest head I've ever seen on a horse). Charleston has all sorts of rules about who can go where and how often, which I suppose is good because as a citizen of Charleston I wouldn't want a carriage full of tourists looking into my living room every five minutes.

This was not a low-calorie trip, and I had decided that before I went. I ate fried chicken and green bean casserole and shrimp and grits (twice) and fried green tomatoes and pimento cheese and biscuits and an excellent whoopie pie and pulled pork nachos. And pizza twice, yesterday, because I had it for lunch and then JetBlue bought us pizza because the plane was four hours late. The weather in Boston was apparently just about done being completely awful when we landed at 8:57 last night.

If I had been there longer, I would have done the Fort Sumter tour and actually found the Hominy Grill and had shrimp and grits there too (I've discovered there's nothing I don't like about the basic principles of shrimp and grits) and and and...but I got to spend some time Not At Work and Not At Home simultaneously, and that was what I needed. And the weather wasn't terrible for what I was doing in it; it rained like hell on Wednesday night, but after dinner.

I like the Vendue, even though it wasn't cheap. It's half hotel and half art gallery, and I fell in love with one piece of art, but couldn't afford it. It's a picture of a woman in an orange sari, and the orange peacock-feather pattern on the sari is escaping off onto the background. But the whole background is gold leaf, so the piece is for sale for several thousand dollars, and it's staying in Charleston. I took a picture of it, though. And the gallery is doing an exhibit called Homage, so all the art in it is parodies of other (usually famous) art. My favorite one was a parody of Magritte's The Son of Man, only instead of an apple, he has an iPhone taped over his face. And I loved the fact that right next to the elevator on the third floor, they had three of those sand and water frames mounted to the wall. But the elevator always got there before the sand did anything interesting, so one night I stood there and played with them for twenty minutes. The maintenance man who came up in the elevator with me was somewhat amused to find me still there when he was going back down again. But I was on vacation, and I wanted to play with the interactive art, so I did, so there.

Just so I wrote it down, the piriformis spasm took six days to sort itself out and I think a massive amount of walking might have helped it some. But if I ever get another one, I'm not sure I can convince myself to walk for at least five hours a day for a couple of days.
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OW. I am on the third day of a left piriformis muscle spasm, which is trying to pull my pelvis out toward my femur, and I can't wait for it to let go. It won't shut up when it lets go, but at least it won't hurt the same way (and when it lets go, it might respond to Advil). It's got three days to start behaving, or at least behaving differently, before I take it to Charleston. Meanwhile, I have to ignore it to a certain extent in order to get done what I need to get done before I go. I should do the running around tonight before it starts precipitating. Whatever's going to fall out of the sky tomorrow is going to be unpleasant to run around in.

I know that my cats dream (I always ask them if they were dreaming anything good when they wake up from one), but I think yesterday evening Snip had an anxiety dream. She woke up, uncurled, marched into my lap, curled up again fairly tightly and started purring like mad. Usually she just wakes up and curls up in a different direction before going back to sleep. Far be it from me to refuse to provide lap space for a cat who knows she wants it. She stayed there until my foot fell asleep and I had to untangle myself.

I'm not used to flights shorter than five or so hours these days, since my last two trips were Iceland last year and Australia the year before. I keep having to remind myself that five hours of entertainment will cover both flights this time, and my noise-canceling headphones will be nice but not utterly necessary. I'm bringing them anyway, because they're nice, and they don't take up a lot of luggage space. And I keep reminding myself that I'm staying in the same time zone for once, so I might not get back to Boston at evening rush hour feeling like it's 3:00 in the morning. (Nothing says I won't encounter unforeseen delays and get back to Boston at 3:00 in the morning anyway, though. That's why I'm coming back on a weekday. Well, that and the airfare is cheaper doing it that way.)

Even for the week before a vacation, it's been a LONG week. Tuesday feels like it was five years ago. (What the hell did I have for lunch on Wednesday? Oh yes. Leftover borek and potato salad from Tuesday, that's what. And it was very tasty, too.) I didn't actually sing on Wednesday, because by the time I got to rehearsal I had a TMJ headache, which made opening my mouth enough to sing an interesting idea, and no energy. At least I was there. I still can't decide if I'm going to the second sectional next Saturday. There are about an equal number of reasons why I should and reasons why I don't want to. But I don't have to make up my mind until after Thursday next week.
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I never did get around to busting out the vacuum cleaner on Saturday, but I did get the bed made and the bag of clutter filled up. There is no more pile in my bedroom, and all the pants and bras that got chucked in the closet as I changed sizes are sorted out and put away properly so I can find them again when/if I need them. (I don't plan to need the 42DD bras ever again, though, so I should probably get rid of them.) That means the kitchen, pantry, bedroom, and bathroom are DONE. The closet won't take much more doing, and the living room won't take much doing to begin with, and the office is down to just the bookshelves and some other bits and pieces.

Sunday was mostly good; I got to see my aunt and uncle who I haven't seen since last Easter or thereabouts, and I handed off my CD player/clock radio to my parents, whose CD player doesn't play reliably. And there was lasagna, which Mom said wasn't brilliant but I think was jes' fine.

Unfortunately there was also a lot of "Molly sits there feeling like a lump of Crisco while her sister shows off all sorts of pictures and video of static trapeze moves and everyone says 'Holy shit!'". I rather hate that. If I say anything about what I've been doing with myself, it looks like I'm competing for attention. I won't win that one, so I don't get into it. I just sit there feeling like a lump of Crisco. In the grand scheme of things it doesn't matter that I'm the "other kid" even though I'm the older kid, and in the grand scheme of things I know that, but it still bothers me when my nose gets rubbed in it.

I want cornmeal pancakes with molasses. If I buy cornmeal, I could do that for dinner (assuming I remember where the molasses got relocated to in the pantry).
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So I can say I got things done today, here's what I got done today (so far):

- Made a "raincoat" for the massive framed embroidery out of trash bags and scotch tape
- Dressed the embroidery in the raincoat and took it down to my office on the bus, and deposited the embroidery next to my desk and the raincoat in the trash (and made my left shoulder sulky)
- Hiked off to the hardware store at St. Mary's and bought a shower curtain liner
- Hiked off to Trader Joe's and did the grocery shopping
- Wandered through Brookline Booksmith and only bought one book
- Wandered off to Peet's and actually got to sit down for a little while and drink a green tea latte
- Got home and disassembled and put away the collapsible tabletop easel the embroidery had been living on
- Put away the groceries
- Cleaned the litterbox
- Did the dishes
- Replaced the shower curtain liner
- Started the first of two loads of laundry
- Stripped the bed
- Unpacked the second spice rack, which was waiting on the doorstep when I got home, and put the appropriate spice bottles on it

I think I might be forgiven if I take my new book (Sarah Dunant's second volume of historical fiction about the Borgias) and go curl up in the living room with it for the rest of the afternoon, except there are still at least three things I have to do today:

- Put clean sheets on the bed
- Vacuum the living room and office rugs
- Fill up this week's trash bag of clutter

Lily is insisting on helping me type, so I think I'll go bust out the vacuum cleaner so she'll leave me alone. I love her dearly, but I don't need her within three inches of me at all times today.
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As it turns out, I am a legal adult with a driver's license and a credit card, and as of ten minutes ago I have plane tickets and a hotel room in Charleston, SC for four days the week after next. So there. I need to be Not At Work and Not At Home at the same time for at least a little while. Right this minute I don't even care if it rains on me for four days; at least I'll be somewhere different and being rained on.
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The nice thing about it being light out for an hour or so after I get home is that I can make plans to get things done at home and actually get them done, instead of curling up and hibernating.

I didn't take Before pictures, but the decluttering process is going pretty well. I got tired of the unnecessary STUFF in every room, and gave myself permission to just throw it away. My carbon footprint is suffering, but I know I never get around to donating things. (Except junk towels; those go to the MSPCA.) The goal is one trash bag, recycling bag, or large thing per week. It's not a lot, but it's enough to look like progress. Since last month, the pile in my bedroom is about 1/3 the height it was, the featherbed is out of the closet, the potting soil with fungus gnats is out of the kitchen, the box of random paper and stuff is mostly in a recycling bag, and I feel better.

Now if only we could have air that doesn't crack the inside of my nose (that hasn't been any fun for a week now) and doesn't turn the cats into Van de Graaff generators...
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I did almost absolutely nothing this weekend, and that bothers me. It means I really need to take some time off. Usually I'm happy going charging around on weekends getting non-weekday stuff done, but lately I just sit around at home messing around online or playing Civ or embroidering in front of the TV. Everything that I really should be doing doesn't appeal at all. That's "tired of", whereas charging around doing things makes me "tired from". I've got to get all the running around for this weekend done on Saturday, though, because I'm going to Noank for the day on Sunday.

Maybe next week I'll be Not At Work for a while. This week is the last week of the oral surgery course, which means that on Friday morning I will be handed the handwritten exam that needs typing for Friday afternoon. I know how this course director works, and I can plead all I want, but I won't get the exam before Friday morning. It's not really worth taking Tuesday-Thursday off and coming back again on Friday, so I'm at work this week.

Speaking of exams, in order to get SPSS software (which I'm not sure I want, but which my boss wants me to have for future data manipulation) for less than several thousand dollars, I have to pretend to be a faculty member. I'm not sure I'm comfortable with that.

Speaking of comfortable, I splurged on an hour and a half of massage on Friday, and OW. My right hip was so sore when worked on that I started wondering whether it would have hurt more to actually cut into that muscle. It got to the point where in the post-massage period when nothing actually hurt (yet), I was worried about how much it was going to hurt. It wasn't quite as bad as I thought, but it did decide to be sore right where the waistband of my jeans hit it. I'd like to say that was part of why I didn't do anything on Saturday, but the fact is I was just being a slug. At least yesterday I cleaned the bathroom and did the laundry and cleaned out the fridge and took out the trash on the way to being outdoors for an hour.

Snip decided that 5:00 this morning was a good time to kill her puffball. I didn't feel like waking up enough to take my night guard out so I could whistle for her. She did wake me up when she finally landed on the end of the bed, though, and I forgave her because she immediately fell over and made very cute mrrp? noises. Silly beast. Apparently tortoiseshell cats are famous for attitude, and apparently I'm lucky that Snip is merely eccentric and opinionated. But so am I, so what other kind of cat should I have?
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I was having an interesting dream this morning, half thriller and half sort of romantic comedy. It had something to do with somebody being poisoned (but not killed) by cocaine in food at a resort in Santo Domingo, and the cocaine coming from Egypt smuggled in ancient Egyptian artifacts. The woman (not me) who was investigating this was friends with the guy who got poisoned, and had a couple of other ditzy female friends who did things like get tied up in some sort of resistance bands while trying to do yoga with them. I was observing all of this, but not actually involved in it, and of course I woke up before I found out who the poisoner was. The whole thing might have made a decent novella if (a) I knew how it ended and (b) it had made any sense whatsoever. As a dream, it was entertaining, though.

Today isn't really my favorite day, because people keep asking me for things they could do themselves if they bothered to look for the one piece of information they don't have. That, however, is work, and it's easier to ask me for six things than it is to do one thing.

At least this morning the sidewalks were dry pavement all the way from home to the bus stop. I don't know if it was salt, sublimation, people with ice axes, or some of each, but whatever it was, that was nice. The bus stop is still in the street because there's a three-foot-wide plow berm between the sidewalk and the street, but it's nice that I can get to the appropriate corner without ice skates.

I managed not to go out for a Large Slab of Dead Cow the last time I wanted one, and I probably won't do it this time either, but right now a ribeye sounds like an excellent idea. I suppose I could have gone to Bartley's last night after the chorus committee meeting and had a Large Slab of Ground-Up Cow instead, but I wanted to get home because my brain had quit working. Taking minutes for nearly two hours of half of the committee convincing the other half to spend $2000 on advertising, in order to maybe make money on ticket sales, does that. Besides, it was snot-freezing weather, so the sooner I got the standing around waiting for buses over with, the better. I like Arctic air a lot more when it stays in the Arctic where it belongs.
dchenes: (Default)
Seems today is Pi Day, and me without any pie. Since it's snowing enough to give me the day off, I ain't going out in search of any pie, either. At least I'm making soup, so I'm halfway to a family tradition. I'll have to ask Dad which of my great-grandfathers lived on soup and pie. (I wonder how he was off for teeth?)

Today is trash day, but they usually come around in the afternoon, so I don't know if anything's getting picked up today. I guess my weekly trash bag of clutter will have to sulk in my office for another week. Next week's bag is going to be recycling, mostly, because I have to go through the pile of Paper That Came Home From Foreign Countries (mostly maps and brochures and museum ticket stubs and things like that). It all lives in a box, which means I probably don't need all of it. I think I'll keep the maps, at least, because that's the record of my having been to those places. My India stuff is in a binder; maybe I'll add some other countries to that.

I thought my next trip was going to be Seattle, but Charleston doesn't sound so bad either. I still have to figure out when, though.

There's an orange cat on my keyboard. I don't remember ordering an orange cat on my keyboard. She wants me to go sit down in the living room so she can sit in my lap. We can't always get what we want, though.
dchenes: (Default)
The regiment has been investing in things that don't involve a million calories. So now I own the complete Fawlty Towers, which I should have bought years ago, and the CD of our last chorus concert. I like to listen to those because I never know how the pieces sound to the audience; all I hear is the alto section and whichever other section(s) I'm taking entrances or starting notes from. When I'm singing this stuff, I'm too busy to appreciate the whole thing. But I have to say we knocked The Golden Harp out of the park, pretty much. I still don't like Fern Hill (it was written in 1964 and the accompaniment has almost nothing to do with what the chorus is doing). The Harvest of a Quiet Eye was OK, but it's more "soloists accompanied by chorus and orchestra" and I'm not in the mood for that (although the baritone soloist was excellent). I'm also trying to adjust my listening out of "Pay attention and get this right" and into "I like this piece of music".

It's going to be snot-freezing weather again this weekend and snow tomorrow and Tuesday. I disapprove of both of those ideas, because even if it's only March, it's March and I'm sick of the sweatshirt-and-wool-socks routine. And I really need to buy a lot of kitty litter, and I'm going to have to do it tonight, because doing it in the snow is Right Out.

I may need to take a mental health day tomorrow, because I can't come up with a good reason why today isn't Friday. It's even been a quiet week, but I'm done dealing with specific people and office machinery (I really wish I weren't the copier expert again; every job I've had, I've sat near the copier, and become the unjamming expert by proximity). Not that not being at work tomorrow would fix much of anything, but I might have a more acceptable level of cope on Monday.
dchenes: (Default)
I've got a new bad habit. I go grocery shopping and find things I shouldn't buy but want to anyway, and excuse them by saying "Trump is still president, so I can buy this thing because it will make me happy." Yesterday it amounted to goat's milk cheddar, cauliflower ravioli, and a mint chocolate bar. At least I was right about the chocolate bar; it did make me happy for as long as it lasted (which was less time than it should have, because I practically inhaled it). And I've had the ravioli before, so I know they're happy things.

Since it was snot-freezing weather and windy besides on Saturday, I stayed indoors all day and made soup and did a lot of embroidery. The soup was because my appetite thinks it's spring, and in the spring it wants all the vegetables it can get. It got diced tomatoes and half a bag of lima beans and half a bag of corn and the end of a bag of green beans and most of the end of a bag of brown rice, thrown into the last of the homemade frozen soup stock with a couple of cloves of minced garlic. I promptly had it for lunch on Saturday and breakfast on Sunday, and have enough left over for lunch today and tomorrow. It sticks to the ribs pretty well on account of the brown rice.

The embroidery is going again, and that's happy stuff too. I forgot how much I missed it. Various combinations of sore shoulders and sweaty hands and artificial light put me off it for a while, but I got back in the groove on Saturday and might actually get off page 3 before April. Considering I started this pattern last June, that's sad.

I'm getting used to the new vacuum cleaner. I like that it has separate settings for the rug beater versus just suction, so it doesn't have fits when it tries to use the rug beater on plain floor, and that it can cope with the entire living room rug without having to stop in the middle, and that it fluffs up the rugs instead of beating them flat, and that it's quieter than the old one. I don't like how top-heavy it is, and I wish the crevice tool had a wider slot, because cat crunchies don't fit through it. However, in general it is an improvement on the old vacuum cleaner. If I had been thinking beyond "I HATE this thing and I want it gone", I would have kept the crevice tool from the old vacuum cleaner and life would have been lovely (until it didn't fit the new vacuum cleaner, because that's how life goes). Oh well.
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