Well, I promised you a list of goals for today. And I have to tell you, I haven’t hardly had a moment to work on them. No, yesterday I spent time working on some computer issues. Around the same time we hooked Rachel up with the new laptop, S’s laptop stopped connecting to the Internet at all. Hers would get bumped off. And the Wii lost connection to Netflix. So, I had to remedy that. I had postponed it for the better part of a week…that’s how much I hat dealing with tech support…after my first go with tech support was such a nightmare.Goal assessment…Tuesday?
Tuesday, January 12th, 2010
I know, in the past I would write a post on Monday mornings wherein I made a check of how I was doing at achieving all the goals I had set before me. And since I’ve been writing the night before instead of the morning of, on account of I can’t get up any earlier in the dark, Tuesdays will be the new Monday. Haven’t you heard? Mondays on Monday are so last season! Having Monday on Tuesdays is allll the rage.
Whew! Convinced yet? Fine. I just suck. I’m a lazy, excuse making, slack-jawed loser who can’t flop from the drawer to the floor any earlier than I already am. You happy now? Because suddenly, I’m not. I really am feeling like a loser.
It’s a feeling that has been eating at me for a while now. I’ll be okay for a bit and then suddenly, it hits me. Wham! I’m sharing a room with my daughter. I’m sleeping in the cupboard under the bed. We can dress it up and call it the portal to Narnia all we want. I still feel like a loser. And I think the feeling grows more acute when I suddenly become aware that the situation shows no signs of changing in the near future. And I know that I should just be happy that we have our own place that I can afford on my own, but I’m not. Always wanting more, striving for more, hoping to be better, it’s not just the American way, it’s my way. So, I’m a little justifiably disgruntled. Again.
Well, let’s focus on things that I have more control over, things that will hopefully make me feel better about myself.
- To date, I have lost 3.8 pounds. Yup, first week on the wagon and I lost just shy of four pounds. I feel pretty good about that since I’m not exactly on the wagon, driving. I’m more sitting on it with my feet dangling. I haven’t exercised at all. Oh, and loser that I am, I have a wide range of excuses ranging from the lack of space in my apartment to the lack of warmth in the out of doors to the lack of money for a gym membership to the lack of time to use the one at the apartment complex that is conveniently open during my work hours only… Yeah. And I’m sure if I laid on a couch with Freud, we’d discover that I have a lack of motivation and probably Daddy issues that have wrecked my potential for ever having a healthy relationship. (Whoa! Where’d that come from? You guys are good!)
- I am over a third of the way through the Coco Chanel book. I still hate the style. I find it goes easier if I read it in my narrator voice and throw in commentary like…Coco exits stage right. It would go a lot easier if any of the characters were sympathetic or remotely likable. So far, not so much as a maid has peaked my interest. Maybe the chauffeur? Nope. The woman in the lobby…? Sorry. I’ve got nothing. (Please don’t let this be another Book of Ruth.)
- Ummm. My ebook. Finally, success. Brace yourselves. I finished writing it today. Twice. Yup. The first time I finished, the computer froze up and I hadn’t been exactly save conscientious, so…I lost like a gajillion words and had to recreate them. I think it was better the second time around, but that may just be what people who forget to save and have to rewrite say to comfort themselves. Regardless, I am pleased with the result.
And how did I manage to accomplish such a feat on a Monday, you may ask? Go ahead…ask! You’re going to love this answer. I was home with Rachel today.
Sure enough, typical Monday that started Sunday night. They returned from their father’s later than anticipated or agreed upon. And Keenan returned with an injured back, the product of a fall down the stairs. I heard murmurs about a rubber band fight. I have my suspicions. And Rachel was complaining of her throat. Again.
Now, I take her complaints with a grain of salt, my little drama queen. Only in the morning she was significantly worse. I offered to let her stay home, but no, she wanted to go. And by the time I emerged from my glorious steamy shower at 7:20am, I had missed three calls from her and one text. Impatient much? Well, it grew worse because I had to thaw the car before I could drive it. So sue me.
I picked her up and she looked like death. So, we picked up provisions…meds that may cause drowsiness and soup. (We all know how I feel about may cause drowsiness…huge fan!) And I brought her home, tucked her into the couch, and called the doctor. You may think I’m a little crazy about sore throats, but I had a friend in college whose father ended up paralyzed following a stroke brought on by an untreated case of strep. Secondary strep can be lethal, people. Don’t play around with a sore throat!
Well, she fell asleep and I had a list the length of my arm to accomplish. I know. I have all weekend to accomplish stuff, but the reality is that most of what I need to accomplished can only be accomplished during normal business hours…or as I like to think of it, the same time I work. See the dilemma?
So, I managed to get a call in to the bank. Fingers crossed…we may have a buyer for my albatross, er house. And I paid my vehicle tax. And I read some more of that blessed book. And I wrote the ebook. Quite a productive day, since I also managed to run the dishwasher, and catch up the laundry, all while being at Rachel’s beck and call and in between running to the doctor and not one but two drug stores in an attempt to fill her script.
Oh, and here’s the best part. First, she had to wear the mask. I took a picture, but only with my phone, so I can’t share it with all of you. Poor planning. My apologies. And I offered to draw a pig snout on it for her, in case she she had the old H1N1. She declined. As always, our presence, eventful. She had to draw back the mask for the nurse to swab her throat, during which time Rachel managed to hack some phlegm onto her. Yummy. Then, minutes later, I had to have her puke in the doctor’s hand washing sink since I couldn’t find a kidney dish in the room. Yeah. So, we may be gone, but we’ll not soon be forgotten. (Plus, they’ve been caring for us for the last 8years, God bless them.)
The doctor knows us so well that he offered Rachel a one dose liquid antibiotic to cure whatever she’s growing. We’re not sure, but he didn’t want to take any chances what with her symptoms. And he’s reading us the warnings, the whole…there’s a good chance she’s going to get diarrhea from this. (We’re thrilled, really we are.) My response?
me: Throw in the promise of a yeast infection and we’re sold!
It was no small feat filling the script. And Rachel had to decide to take it either two hours after eating or one hour before. Since it was nearing 4pm, and she hadn’t eaten all day…we had soup…amazing organic soup…inspired by Lydia’s post on Five Full Plates. She was finally ready to take the meds around 6:30pm. And by 7:30pm, she was puking them up. So, who knows if she’s reaping any of the medicinal benefits of the drugs. Only time will tell. Fingers crossed!
On the bright side, Rachel thanked me today for taking care of her and told me how much she loves me and appreciates me. This is not something rare and unusual, but a regular occurrence around here. I’m so blessed.
And because I want you to be…
Quick Karma:
- swim with life’s currents; not against them
PS. On account of her amazing digestive pyrotechnics, I’m thinking of having Rachel remain on the couch tonight. And there are a few good reasons for this. For one, gravity works. And I don’t want to be on the receiving end lying in the drawer on the floor beside her. Second, the couch has scotch guard. Good plan huh?
Several years ago, I started using part of New Year’s Eve as a time to set my course for the following year. I’d create this list of goals I’d like to accomplish for the year related to the various aspects of my life. And then, during the course of the year, I’d tick the items off one by one. It gave me an immense amount of satisfaction to feel like I’d accomplished something.
Every month since I started, the blog, I have written an address. At first, it was to keep track of my goals, measure how I was attaining them. There was some comfort in having structure. And I liked knowing that I had a set post concept for the first day of every month. Ahh, routines.
So, I’ve been trying to eek some inspiration out of my recent posts. Apparently, sad sells. I’ve been very popular lately. It could be because my life has turned into a cautionary tale. And for some reason, people keep telling me that they respect me, that I’m so strong, that I can do this.
I kind of like this picture. And I’m guessing that if I were asked to find a picture that represented my life right now…that would be it. I’ve had this ENORMOUS wrecking ball rip apart my life. And while I was sad and feeling really sorry for myself, completely lost and alone…this morning it doesn’t feel so bad.
Well, here’s my annual end of the month fireside chat. I rather like picking out all these dream outdoor fireplaces. Right now, we have a fire pit that was created with the same foresight and consideration as most everything else in The Bubble.
I know that I have shied away from my typical Monday morning goal assessment lately. And it’s certainly easy enough to understand why. There have been so many changes lately, so many other things going on that I haven’t been able to take some of my goals as seriously, and other goals have cropped up that take the focus away from where it should be…improving me.
)
Yeah, normally I start with a really optimistic kind of Monday morning post where I assess my goals and their current status. Right. And if you read over the weekend, you may have the mistaken impression that I had this wonderful relaxing mellow kind of a weekend. And I can see why you’d think that. It’s my own fault really. My Sunday morning post was written during the week after I had reminisced about the previous Sunday. And that day really was that good.
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