Work, Pack, and Life

While all the rest of us writers are sitting here hoping against hope that we will hear something of dear Lady Abigail’s and dear Lady Grace’s lives, I’m going to hold up my self-enforced schedule and post again.

For a writer, I’ve not been doing much writing lately. In case you are curious as to what I HAVE been doing, I’ve mostly been packing. And surviving work. Really, my days have consisted:

  1. Get up late, rush around to get ready, and run out the door ALMOST late.
  2. Get through the workday with a huge flux of emotions that ranges from very upset (I might even dare say angry were I not an enneagram one), to reminding myself I am a Christian and calming down to thinking I am really overreacting over everything and I would be fine for here for another few years, to watching the clock with yearning wondering why half an hour feels like hours.
  3. Get home, heat up dinner (or eat out half the time) and pack while watching Chuck before collapsing on the couch, watching more episodes far too late to avoid the next day, finally forcing myself to bed, and starting over again the next day.

Oh, other things have been interspersed, but that’s mostly been it. On the up side, two more days and then we move! So I’d better get back to it.

A Day in Another Life

I’m going to shamelessly rip off Jacinta’s idea here and write a day in my own life. Grab some caffeine. You’ve been warned.

6:00 my first alarm goes off. I drag my eyelids upwards with all the effort of a gravedigger in heavy clay soil. I pull my phone from the nightstand and blearily let my opened eyes absorb some blue light from the screen. Mabel meows loudly in my face. Often, my dear husband has taken to bringing me coffee –he gets up a lot earlier–and complaining about my morning voice. Said voice being something between a squeak and a mumble.

6:30 my second alarm goes off. It is a just in case alarm. I’m still not gonna get out of bed,though. Nope. Unless my coffee has not magically appeared yet. Then I might. So anyway, I’m just scrolling through social media, checkin’ my email. Entering Goodreads giveaways. NOT getting out of bed.

7:00 ok fine, I’ll get out of bed.

7:05 ugh, I really need to get out of bed.

7:08 LURCH, grind, shuffle. Ok, I’m up. Now I will flurry between my closet in one room, my chest of drawers in another, the laundry room where the clean clothes probably are still sitting, and the bathroom to find all the components of whatever I’m going to wear.

7:10 wash face, brush hair, apply moisturizer, foundation, blush, mascara, clothes, done.

7:20 start tea kettle, give cat snax, prep lunch, swallow pills, inhale something edible, feed cat.

7:30 ideally, I would be out the door by now.

7:38 realistically I’m out the door by now. Speededy speed speed….listening to a podcast or an audiobook…

8:20 looking at time on phone –i think I’ll make it on time!

8:28 oops

8:32 I arrive at my desk. From here, I usually do some bank reconciliations. Unless my email is exploding with questions. Then I might get distracted and circle back to the bank recs in a few hours.

9:30 from here my day might go in a few different directions. Might compile a check deposit, do some revenue reallocations, issue electronic refunds…. A lot of days, though, my job feels like half of it is apologizing to people for our dysfunctional technology. Or attending meetings with the tech developers and speaking up much more assertively or confrontationally than is my preference to explain why,exactly, the system they are developing for us is Completely Not Working. For example,here is a normal business process: employee does work on behalf of employer. Receives invoice, passes along to their accounts payable section. Accounts payable pays invoice. This is not actually possible in the system that we’re transitioning into at the moment, so I spend a lot of time apologizing to customers and explaining that there is actually no solution to their problem. Our system for refunds is broken too. Or another common scenario is that I will receive a question that I need information from another division to answer. So I email a question to the other division. Wait a week. Customer says any news? I follow up with other division to no response. I wait another few days. Reply to customer, drowning in a sea of guilt and incompetence, with some mild diplomatic deferral. Nope. No news. Not holding my breath for any either.

So after all this, you might be saying, wow girl, you need a new job. Sometimes I would agree.

12:00 I enjoy a cold luncheon at my desk whilst scrolling through 20 job boards that I have bookmarked on my phone. Find that no jobs sound particularly appealing. Or if they do, they are part time and pay $8 an hour. I put away my phone and remind myself that I have like four weeks of paid vacation…truly affordable health insurance….the freedom to use my four weeks of vacation basically whenever. And I am equipped with an above average level of apathy that enables me to leave my work at work and not lose any sleep over it. So I mean, I guess it’s fine…

12:30 back to work….

4:00 my dear husband gets off work and usually asks me what the plan for dinner is. I list off the contents of the fridge and freezer and any associated plans I may have had for them, having overestimated my ability to actually cook dinner on weeknights…

5:00 finally my turn to get off work. Queue up my audiobook or podcast and start the next hour’s journey.

6:00 get home to dinner mostly ready. We usually eat dinner on the couch and watch a half hour episode of a TV series owned on DVD. Right now, though I’m sorry to admit, we are going through Game of Thrones from the library.

7ish clean the kitchen, set the coffee pot, shower

830 curl up with our books, or if I am feeling unusually motivated I may go and contemplate my writing desk.

930ish we finish scrolling our phones, turn out the light, and wait to start it all again.

Dun dun dun….

So Abby or Grace….about your days…

A Day In the Life

Remember when we were younger and we would keep daily “diaries” of our day so that we should share them as glimpses of our life? Yup. I decided to do that yesterday for this blog – for you girls. <3. It’s a lot more boring than those when I was younger since, you know, most of my time is spent like working and stuff, but hey, that’s daily life, right?

Diary for January 16th, 2020

6:30 – My  alarm goes off and I actually feel somewhat refreshed after going to bed at the very reasonable hour of 9:30 – 10:00. Daniel and I have this goal to get to bed in time to get between 8-10 hours of sleep in hopes of feeling less exhausted since we don’t have any real vacations planned this year. Our success rate has been 50/50. But I think overall we are feeling better.

6:45 – Despite feeling more refreshed, old habits die hard, and I doze in and out until my next alarm. But, hey – at least I’m not waiting for the 7:00 alarm this time!

7:00ish – I proceed with morning things, and since I’ve opted not to take a shower today, I make Daniel coffee, pack lunch, make a breakfast of eggs and toast, accept espresso from Daniel, wash yesterday’s makeup off since I forgot to take it off before I went to bed, get dressed, braid my hair, don’t bother with makeup, and get my work stuff together.

7:40 -Yes, I accomplished all that in 40 minutes. Impressive, right? If you saw how I looked, you wouldn’t think so. You would say, you know, you should have taken time to put make-up on. 😛 But anyway, Daniel and I leave for work, walking down the street to the metro, which was crowded enough that Daniel and I got to stand for the entire ride, squished between as many people as could cram into it.

8:30 – arrive at work, having effectively ignored one person selling flowers and newspapers for the homeless, one person playing music for money, three or four Jehovah’s witnesses, and three homeless people asking for money. And, yes. I live like three miles from work and it takes almost an hour to get there. This is one reason we aren’t concerned about moving so far out. It isn’t going to take that much longer to get there by bus as it does by metro.

9:30ish – So far I’ve managed to order some things on Amazon, breeze through emails, that I marked to take care of later, and in general avoid any actual work. Now it’s time for the team’s daily touchpoint, in which we will talk about everything we are planning to do today, which doesn’t change much from day to day, and any other items we care to discuss.

11:00ish – I finally wrote a list, created a schedule, ran downstairs for a latte, and am now ready to concentrate on everything I”m supposed to be doing. Judge me all you want. Mornings are hard.

12:30 – Heated up lunch, which is a “chicken square”. I got the recipe from my sister and it’s basically chicken, cream cheese and seasonings mixed up and baked in a crescent roll. Really good! But I only ate half of it in an attempt to control the amount of calories. Which I was proud of.

1:22 – I found out I am taking my first “shift” on the watch next Tuesday. Which basically means I will be sitting on the Watch floor from 8:00 until . . . well, they didn’t say what time . . . doing “Watch functions”. Without any training, btw. Delightful.

2:20 – Becoming extremely antsy after getting all but the most disagreeable things done on my list, Daniel has suggested we meet down the street for coffee to clear our brains.

3:00 – Back from coffee, and it worked miracles. I actually do feel ready to dive in again.

4:40 – Packing up, and headed to the metro for the ride home. Daniel always gets on one stop after me, and we meet up to ride home together.

5:30 – Back home. Daniel and I actually got to sit down this time, and I spent about half the ride working on reading Les Mis, which, as you know, I’ve been trying to get through for like 5 years.

5:45 – We were both starving, so we just inhaled some leftovers from last weekend (when we ate out multiple times in between working at the house), and left fairly promptly to run errands.

6:45 – Our errands consisted of walking down the street to drop off dry cleaning, then to the UPS store to return Amazon packages, then to the post office to mail a package from their after-hours service, then to the wine shop to get a bottle of wine (the person there recommended a bottle from Israel – Galilee to be exact), then to the mall in search of a 2020 calendar, then to CVS since the mall no longer had a calendar stand, and then back home. And Yes, we are counting that as our workout. That was an hour of walking!

7:00 – Having run around for 10 minutes putting away part of the nativity set and my Cup of Christmas Tea set so that Daniel can finish putting Christmas stuff away, I am now settling down with a glass of the Israeli wine to chat with Abby for awhile – very long overdue!

10:00ish – Surprisingly exhausted, but happy, Abby and I said goodbye, I brushed my teeth, read a chapter of my book and my Bible app devotional, and I’m pretty sure I fell asleep faster than I have in a week. Writing from the perspective of the next day, of course. 🙂

And that was my offer of a glimpse into my daily life!

 

 

 

December’s Chaos

We say that a blog is going to be for daily updates – keep each other updated on our lives, and document the seemingly mundane everyday items that later bring back such precious memories. But it is surprisingly hard to do, isn’t it? Documenting the every day? Because at night, we lay down and, if our mind runs through the day, it is focused on things like food, whether we worked out, how work went, and items such as that, with a few exceptions. Yet, when I look back on my diary from years ago, I love seeing those little items because they trigger memories of whatever stage of life I was in at that point.

Point? Well, I am going to try and make it a goal to write in this “everyday life” blog at least once a month – both so you, my dear friends, can feel like you are a little bit in my life, and to keep records of it – and, yes, an ulterior motive might be to also remind you all to let me have a little insight into your lives too. 😉

So what are my everyday things right now? Well – one thing you all already know about because it ISN’T so everyday – we closed on a house last Monday!! Today is the final, final walk-through, where we get to actually see the parts that were covered up with their moving stuff, so here’s to hoping nothing big was covered up!

Other than that. I went on another work trip last week (it was only last week??? It seems like ages ago already!!). And then my sister-in-law came for a visit the day after I got back! This was a momentous occasion. Because she has Ulcerative Colitis and has barely been able to get out of bed for five years because none of the medications have been able to get it under control. So the fact that she was doing well enough to actually come visit was basically a minor miracle.

Daniel and I bought a Christmas tree right before I left for Atlanta on Sunday the 8th, which then sat in the living room until we had a chance to decorate it the following Friday. We had debated, with everything going on, whether it would be worth putting Christmas things up, but it seemed so sad without them – like just another cold, winter month – so Daniel made an executive decision and we went for it. I am really glad – because it makes me happy every time I look at it.

Anyway, my sister-in-law left on Wednesday, we stayed up until past midnight packing last night (Thursday), and today, after work, we go pick up a rental car, drop my ring off for cleaning, load up the car, go do our walk-through, and then start the drive to Minnesota! We should arrive in Silver Bay, MN sometime Saturday evening/night, where we will stay with my sister, her husband, and their seven children until Monday. Then we drive down to the twin cities, spend the night with my grandparents, spend the morning with them, and then get to my parents sometime Christmas Eve. Then the day after Christmas, we go spend the night at one of my brothers, come back to my parents the next day, spend one more night, then drive to my other sister, who is an hour to an hour and a half away, spend the day with her, her husband, and their five kids, and then start the drive back to VA, so that we can work on Monday. So, if you don’t hear from me at all until 2020, please rest assured, it is not you!

And there you have it! My everyday life update.

Newsletter-cartoon

The One Where Jacinta and Abby Almost Die (Among Other Adventures)

Once upon a time, about a year ago, two girls decided to go to San Francisco for a an entire night of writing dangerously – hosted, as you may have guessed, by the NaNoWriMo team. 

Then NaNoWriMo cancelled their conference, breaking our hearts, causing endless tears (read: Jacinta) and hurling us into the depths of despair. 

What can mend a broken heart? Could a great deal of sunlight, shenanigans, and a tropical ocean come close? 

We weren’t sure, but by golly we were up for trying! It was a sacrifice, but one we were willing to make. 

Shortly thereafter, a cruise to the Bahamas was booked. (ha! Get it? BOOKED!)

Many months went by, with very little planning, and then, suddenly, it was upon us! We realized we needed to let our husbands know of our plans. (They were bitter, but willing to let us go…conditionally)

As the week approached, Abby decided to shine with her ability to pack ahead of time and was ready with two days to spare. Jacinta, on the other hand, chose to put it off until the night before and (of course), ended up perfectly packed whereas Abby (of course) ended up forgetting one of the most vital items (but that comes later).

Enter Wednesday. Abby’s flight was scheduled to leave at 11:59 PM (always one up for an adventure, she had opted for a red-eye, while Vanilla Jacinta chose a 6:00 AM Thursday flight). Abby should have guessed something was going to go wrong when her flight was delayed, ostensibly to 12:35am, but in reality 1-something AM, landing at the ungodly hour of 7:30 AM (5:30 her time, but who’s counting?).

Jacinta, valiantly forgoing complaining of her 4 hours of sleep (deeply considerate of Abby’s less than 1 hour), arrived in a timely manner, picked up her baggage, and, with oblivious delight, waited for Abby to traverse the entire airport to come to her. 

We know it is hard to believe, but once we secured transportation to the hotel (which took work, but we are strong, independent women, so we accomplished it), there was not a lot of drama until we decided it was 9:45 and far past time for breakfast. 

Accordingly, we approached the front desk and asked for recommendations for places within walking distance, since apparently the “go-anywhere-within-a-three-mile-radius-shuttle” was not available until after 11:00. After much hemming and hawing and looking at each other, the three ladies at the desk, acknowledged a Burger King within walking distance and somewhat reluctantly gave directions of “beyond the fence, under the bridge, and turn right”. We managed to make it just beyond the fence, where we encountered our first roadblock (heh, get it?). There appeared to be no sidewalk. Undaunted because, as mentioned, we are strong, independent women, we took off across the deep grass toward the bridge, only hesitating when we realized we needed to cross a freeway ramp onto more grass, and either walk along the actual highway or get caught between the railing and the bridge support. 

I will not say that there were deep discussions of the value of breakfast vs death, but we did slowly turn back toward the hotel, at which point we realized that we were both brilliant people because, thinking outside the box, we took another look around for an alternative solution and discovered a somewhat decrepit, but nonetheless existent sidewalk across the highway. Wisely waiting for a break in traffic, we made the dangerous passing (with only one honk), survived the crevices in the sidewalk, and with very little ado found the Burger King with its ham, egg, and cheese croissant awaiting us (we briefly considered an alternative restaurant across the road but considerately decided not the disturb the gentleman sleeping/sitting at the door). 

The End. But wait. There’s more. We both arrived in Miami from wintry climates (Jacinta would especially like to remark that her 59 temperatures were sheer torture), which as you know, tend to wreak havoc on one’s cuticles. Obviously, this needed to be rectified. 

We asked the concierge and his assistant if there was a shopping mall within the three-mile limit of our complimentary shuttle ride.

They exchanged looks. “Well…there’s a K-mart,” the concierge offered. 

“But…there’s really nothing else there,” the other confirmed. “Just a few little shops.” 

Jacinta, who had hitherto been quite unaware that K-marts still existed in this world, was a little uncertain how exactly to read those quick looks they’d given each other. “We’re just looking for a place to get our nails done.” 

The concierge brightened, obviously pleased to be able to give us a positive answer. “Yes, there is a nail salon there! Kim’s Nails!”

“Great, we’ll go!” 

These were ill-fated words. 

You’d think we’d have suspected an issue when we stepped into Kim’s Nails, smelled the pungent air, and noticed the overly cheap prices on the handwritten white board with a “Cash Only” sign. But no. Delighted at finding such a bargain, we not only proceeded to inform them we wanted both manicures and pedicures, but Jacinta even had the brilliant idea of withdrawing cash using their ATM. We did, however, begin realizing we may have made an error as we sat down in their cracked, broken massage chairs (that did not massage), had our feet stuck in basins that had not been cleansed in who-knows-how-long, and saw the numerous personal items strewn about the entire place. The sick feeling in our stomachs began when we saw the dirt coating the rusted cabinets holding their tools, and the debris and flecks speckling all surrounding equipment, including the massage chairs. 

Jacinta’s story somewhat levels out at this point – i.e. it doesn’t get either worse or better, but Abby. Ah, Abby, our ill-fated maiden. The technician she’d been assigned paused to count a fat stack of twenties, shoot back what we hope was nothing more than a double espresso, and then swab off her sweaty chest with a handy towel, delving deep down into the depths of her shirt to do so. 

The same towel that was then used to dry off Abby’s feet a moment later. 

A sharp tool was then employed, fished out of the rusty drawer and scraped harshly along Abby’s tender piggies. Being the eminent people-pleaser that she is, she manfully swallowed down her involuntary yelps of pain, submitting with martyr-like patience to the torture, which, we will add, drew blood. We repeat, DREW BLOOD. 

Next, a second drawer  (also rusty) was pulled open and Abby’s eyes widened as she beheld a hand mixer, jerry-rigged to have a circular sanding device attached to it. She glanced over and caught Jacinta’s even-wider-eyed gaze, and then cringed as the makeshift power sander powered up with a rather terrifying roar and was then applied to her heels. (Thankfully, the sandpaper was fine-gauge and there were no blood spatters.)

A tackle box full of crusty nail polish containers was finally presented before her, and Abby gleefully whipped out her own nail polish, which was ceremonially slopped onto her toes with all the precision of a five-year-old child, the edges cleaned up with the even sharper end of the metal torture device. 

Meanwhile, Abby and Jacinta had been exchanging horrified texts throughout this saga, settling upon politely refusing the manicure, (“Ok, twenty dollars, right now!”)  escaping before they decided to keep us there by force, and immediately descending upon the K-Mart next door for rubbing alcohol with which to cleanse our wounded feet, thereby reducing the possibility of horrific diseases that haunt you the rest of your life (the memories will be quite enough for that).

We entered the K-Mart with some (a lot of) trepidation, having noticed the somewhat questionable residents around the building, immediately encountered a security guard who seemed rather more suspicious upon being smiled at than otherwise, and, skirting the equally questionable shoppers, managed to procure a large bottle of rubbing alcohol and generic Ibuprofen, since apparently they didn’t believe in name brands. 

In desperate need of sustenance following our lengthy ordeal, we decided to see what else was around the shopping mall, and, in a strange twist of fate that apparently decided to have mercy on us, happened upon a small Cuban cafe that harbored delicious food and a comforting atmosphere. Granted, the waitress had to summon the only person in the place who spoke any English to translate what we wanted to order, but that just makes the experience more genuine, right? Anyway, after we devoured our food, paid our checks, and departed, we called for a pickup and were shortly sinking with relief into the loving, familiar atmosphere of our hotel room (having thoroughly doused our feet in the rubbing alcohol).

You think this story ends now and you escape the post-of-never-ending-doom, don’t you? Ha. Some people also believe there’s gold at the end of the rainbow. 

As we blissfully contemplated our narrow escape with death, we decided the only remedy was to sit next to the pool and soak in the 80 degree warmth with a book and possibly a nap. Accordingly, Abby opened her suitcase while Jacinta procrastinated on her phone, only emerging to a sharp cry of dismay from Abby. Looking up, she still didn’t comprehend the horror on her friend’s face, and smilingly inquired if something was wrong. 

“I don’t — I didn’t—” Abby’s face was contorted with dismay. 

Jacinta waited patiently. 

“I forgot to pack my swimsuit!” Abby wailed. “All of them! Any of them! I had three!” 

If you are a woman, and we presume that you are, you are fully aware of the existential crisis that usually accompanies swimsuit shopping. Furthermore, if you are, by chance, a unique size that America chooses to ignore and have to special-order your swimsuits from Europe, you may imagine how the dismay is multiplied. 

Multiple hours later – including two one-hour-long shuttle rides, a detour involving trying on elaborate formal gowns, a sidestep to Auntie Anne’s for a very important snack of pepperoni pretzels, and dangerous navigation around a continuous swarm of very cute trick-or-treaters (apparently the mall was the equivalent of a neighborhood) – a suitable suit was procured. 

The end. BUT WAIT. We know you aren’t bored yet, so guess what? Our adventures weren’t quite over. 

On the verge of perishing from starvation, we made our way to the hotel bar, where we propped open this laptop, ordered a variety of appetizers, and our bartender played mixologist for us and slid over custom-designed beverages. Then, as the well-balanced women that we are, we laughed off our entire day while comprising the first half of this missive, blissfully unaware of the eyes on us around the room. Until the bartender informed us that the gentleman across the bar had purchased drinks for us. AND was paying for all previous drinks as well. 

This prompted a second existential crisis. What do we do? we whispered to each other. Are we allowed to accept this? Do we need to hold up our ring fingers? Worst of all, does this mean we have to talk to him? This has never happened to us before! We awkwardly avoided looking in his general direction until we had summoned our bartender and, panic most likely obvious in our voices, asked her what the etiquette was in such a scenario. She shrugged. “You say thank you. That’s it.” 

Relieved, we raised our glasses to the man across the bar, and he nodded a “you’re welcome,” making zero signs of moving from his seat, much to our secret (and let’s be honest, probably obvious!) relief. 

SURPRISE! A second man slid into the seat next to us, seemingly far less interested in ordering a drink than he was in grilling us with questions, and informing us quite proudly that he was a pilot. A private pilot, ooh. The first gentleman made faces at him across the bar as he spoke. 

Jacinta, typically, shut down with terse responses that likely made him think she was a spy (he did ask for “her CIA name”), while Abby valiantly attempted to answer politely and sweetly without encouraging him. Finally, Jacinta piped up, and inserted into the conversation that we were leaving the next day for a cruise, upon which he suddenly regained interest in his drink, and after informing us he would be at the hot tub if we were looking for him, retired. 

Spoiler: We would NOT be looking for him. 

We decided, backed up by multiple text messages from our respective husbands, that it was probably best to call it a day. And carefully avoided the third gentleman who waved to us from his seat as we passed.

The end. For real this time. 

Misfortunate Monday.

This week, I had such a epitomical Monday I thought I would describe it here. I am almost at a loss for words. I want to say that it was that it was off the chain, but I feel like it’s been a few years since that phrase was in vogue. What’s the current thing?

It all started when I was late for work (of course,) and dropped a deviled egg on my shoe. It made an almost satisfying splat, and the filling radiated in a perfect sunburst pattern once it bounced from my toe to the floor. Truly. It was a thing of beauty.

I should have had my suspicions at this point, but blissfully ignorant, I wiped the yolk and proceeded on my way. I did start my commute with a little bit of trepidation, though — the previous afternoon, my muffler came apart. But the hubs had clamped it back together pending a more permanent fix, and we were thinking it would hold for at least a few days.

Not so. I listened with interest for the twenty minutes that it took for the pipe to fully sever once again, and roared into town. Good morning, Madison! I have arrived!

I logged into my workstation, and attempted to retrieve files from the bank’s website to start my daily reconciliations. Oddly, the files hadn’t dropped yet. Huh, thought I. This hasn’t happened before….Well, maybe they’ll show up in an hour or two.

Meanwhile, I beheld the twenty-five stacks of items on my desk that, at the end of last week, were all waiting either for someone to respond to an e-mail or tech support to, ah, support before I could proceed. One of them was actually at a point where I could continue! I began processing e-pay refunds.

Not five refunds into the stack, the IT department came running in the door. “Who’s doing the refunds! We’re having an error message!”

Me, guys. My life is an error message.

So we looked at that for awhile. I won’t bore you with the details.

Circling back to those bank files, though, they never did show up. Eventually, on the recommendation of IT, I e-mailed an important accounting person at a different agency to see if anyone knew what was going on. She responded. The world was CCed.

And a couple hours later, I realized that Monday was a bank holiday. Of course there would be no files.

Ha. Oops. Today, I was still getting responses to that message, letting me know that Monday was a bank holiday. They may have been typing in a sardonic tone. Or it could have been my imagination. Let’s just say, there were no smilies to soften the blow.

I feel like I’m forgetting some aspects of this most misfortunate Monday. Assuredly, I did have another rip-roaring commute to look forward to at the end of the day. . . .

But all good stories come to an end. And here we are.

Just another day

I am writing this post mostly to show my friends that it is perfectly fine to post about boring every day stuff because I love seeing glimpses into their everyday lives.

So this is my boring, everyday post. Yesterday I got to do my annual doctor visit! Yay! Actually in this case, it was biennial because I forgot to go last year. *hides face while simultaneously laughing* I had a whole list of things to talk to her about – my fingers going numb, marks on my face, a random rash that sometimes appears, my crunchy knee . . . . I have a really nice doctor and I like her a lot . . . but apparently all these things are things that she can’t actually do anything about. So I guess I’m just back to complaining about them.

Then I came home and teleworked the rest of the day and was probably an accurate demonstration of why some managers don’t like telework. I answered emails really fast but . . .that was about it. Oh, and attended like three hours of meetings! I usually am much better – this is why I need to actually force myself to get enough sleep, so I don’t just stare at my phone thinking about how tired I am and how I should probably be working!

I signed off early-ish because I wasn’t getting anything done anyway, and cleaned the house while waiting for Daniel to get home so we could start our at-home date night. He walked in with sushi and chocolate because he’s both the best and the worst. He knows how much I love sushi ( rolls and maki, not nigeri! and preferably with more cream cheese, avocado, and cucumbers than fish). He showed me the chocolate, and I was like, “I gave you strict instructions not to buy any chocolate until NOvember!” (this is me, attempting to watch what I eat – you all know I’m like a rolling hill on this subject – up one moment and down another)

His  response? “I am the head of the house and I have decided to buy you chocolate!”

I laughed too hard to argue anymore. We ate the chocolate.