Being Tired

     When I get overly tired, I develop a sort of ADD. There is no hyperactivity involved, but my thoughts just drift from one thing to another without ever coming to a conclusion. Now is an example of that, and my thoughts are drudging along like this:

Cookies. I would love some cookies. Those were good cookies I had the other day.
Look at the cups on my desk.
You know, Friends is still a good show.
I wish I had more wine.
It's hard to believe it's been off the air as long as it has.
Maybe there are crumbs in this package.
I should wash these.
Ugh. Brian Greene.
My feet hurt.
Ooooh. Head scratch.
Dishes.
I've seen the finale so many times.
There's that one spot I can't scratch.
I already ate the crumbs.
I'm sad.
SHOES.
That's a lot of cups.

And you know, it just goes like that for a while. And guess what? I'm not going to wash those cups while I'm tired.

New Bread

     With every move comes the task of finding a new grocer.  My mother claims to understand this, but she doesn't truly--she has lived in the same town for twenty-four years.  She is pretty settled into her grocery store needs.  Sure, sometimes she wafts between Meijer or Kroger, but in general, if she wants to buy Hillbilly Bread, she can, with no trouble.
     When I moved to DC, the grocery store situation put me in a tailspin.  In the district, the stores are tiny.  Very narrow aisles and a lot of people.  I tried to research online when the best time to go would be, but the reviews were all the same: don't go on the weekends, it's terrible.  So I was relegated to awful grocery shopping for the duration of my stay in the district.
     The first visit or two to a new grocery store is typically filled with disappointment and dismay.  The fact is, all stores are not created equal, and they do not all carry the same items.  So when you've finally gotten used to the new bread you were using in Boston, you stand in front of the district's bread selection and whimper a little.  The cycle has to start over.  Grocery shopping should be one of the things that can stay constant when everything else is in flux.  But it is quite the opposite.
     While in the district, I developed a system.  I split my grocery trips between Safeway and Trader Joes.  I was a Trader Joes novice at the time; I've grown to love it, but face it, there are a few things you just can't get at TJs.  And that's where Safeway came in.  And then every once in a while I would supplement getting exotic meats at the farmers' market.  It wasn't a perfect system, but I had it down.  I also had the contingency plan that I would only go grocery shopping before 10am.  It wasn't an easy contingent to keep up with, and there were some weeks I had to skip grocery shopping.
     Over time, I apparently fell in love with Trader Joes.  I didn't realize this had happened until I was standing in FoodStore last weekend.  At first, the idea of a normal sized grocery store was intriguing.  I had dreams of my previous Boston grocery shopping glory. But then I was standing in the aisles, desperately searching for fire roasted tomatoes, and I knew it just wasn't the same.  I missed Trader Joes.  It surprised me, the way feelings can sneak up on you like they do.
     Today, I am going on an adventure.  I'm going to find the Trader Joes in Brooklyn, and I'm going to get those fire roasted tomatoes.  And apparently something called Brownies-in-a-bag.  It's several subway stops away, and there's a good chance all my frozen foods will melt, but at least it will help me maintain a small piece of consistency.  It's the first step in developing a new grocery system.  And I won't have to switch bread again. 

Spring Cleaning

     Spring Cleaning in August is akin to Christmas in July.  Except that it has nothing to do with  a holiday and isn't 6 months off-set.  It's actually nothing like it.  But I didn't do any spring cleaning in the spring time, but what I'm trying to do now is like what spring cleaning is.  One more exception, however, is I need to spring clean my hard drive. 
     I started going into the details off all the files I have clogging up my hard drive and why they were there and how I let it get this bad, but that was terribly boring.  The point is, I have a lot of files that I just don't need anymore.  But I can't just select all and delete- that could cause major problems.  I have to look at each file to determine its value and relevance and then only delete the ones that are valueless. 
     Yes, I do have an external hard drive.  It also needs to be cleaned out.  I have a 1TB hard drive and I carelessly put tons-o-shit on it.  I thought "A whole terabyte!  This will take forever to fill up."  That is not true.  It is nearly full.  It's about the percentage capacity most computer experts recommend for good performance.  Oops. 
     I do also have regular type spring cleaning to do, though I'm more comfortable with selecting it all and deleting it.  If I open a drawer and don't recognize anything in it, it can all go in the trash.  This of course only applies to small things, like mail and broken pens.  As I've discussed before, with the big items, getting rid of them is harder than it sounds.  Sometimes, I think a fire pit would be useful.   

Simple Tasks Made Difficult

     In an effort to control the wild temperature variations in my apartment, I decided to look into some good old fashioned window insulation.  You know- the plastic film that you use a blow dryer on to create some sort of hermetic seal.   I did a little research and figured it would be a good, easy, cheap solution.
     Six hours later I had wrinkled plastic covering half my windows.  The package made it look so simple, but the universe made it so difficult.
     Error #1:  My math skills.  I measured my windows and they are each 6 feet high.  A few of them are 3 feet wide, a few of them are narrower.  There are 5 windows total.  According to the box, each plastic sheet was 62" by 34".  Apparently I didn't know the difference between 62" and 72".  Yes, as you can see, a 62" plastic sheet is not long enough to cover a 6' window.  Luckily, I had gotten the box for 9 windows, so I would have extra.  This is possibly to only thing I did right.
     In order to fix this problem, I "pieced" the plastic together, using half on the top, putting more tape down, and then doing the bottom half.  It worked better in theory than in execution.
     Error #2:  Bookcases in front of the windows.  The windows in the living room are shaped like those in a bay window, but with no bay-window seat.  In front of the two narrower windows are book cases approximately 3 feet tall packed full of books.  Very heavy books.  I've tried to move these book cases before and it can't really be done.  You have to take all of the books off and then move the book cases.  It takes a long time.  I decided instead to work around the bookcases.  This was painful.
     Error #3:  The sun goes down at 3pm.  Well, it's actually around 5, and starts getting dark around 4:30.  I really wanted to have all of this done before sun set so I didn't have to deal with finding plugs for lamps and hair dryers.  I failed.
     Error #4:  Cords on hairdryers are not 7 feet long.  It had not occurred to me until the moment I was standing at the window, hair dryer in hand, not even close to the top of the window.  Of course hair dryers don't have cords that are 7 feet long!  Why would they?  Well, for this.  Clearly I needed an extension cord, but that was easier said than done.  I'm pretty sure all my true extension cords were in storage.  I had surge protectors in my room that would have to suffice.  This involved unplugging my clocks and lamps, and disheveling my bed to get to it.
     Error #5: Tape is sticky, and I'm impatient.  The instructions state to wait 15 minutes after you apply the tape to put up the plastic.  Well, that's fine the first time around, but eventually, the sun starts going down and muscles start to hurt, so you just put tape up and apply plastic. And then, of course, the  tape doesn't stick.  Except that it sticks to you, and to the plastic, but not the wall, where it needs to be.  You end up with a ball of tape and plastic at the corner of the window and you hope you just melt the plastic to the window to create a seal.  (This does not work.)
     Error #6:  Two hands are better than one, four hands are better than two.  There's a decent amount of trial and error involved when figuring out just how to stick the plastic to the tape and then smooth it out and stick it to the other sides of the tape.  I imagine that if I were doing this with someone else, we would have attached, pulled down, and reattached the first one using a healthy amount of respectful debate.  Instead, if it stuck, it stayed.  Hence all the wrinkles.
     Error #7:  I have no step stool, nor am I 7 feet tall.  There was a lot of standing on chairs, tables, and windowsills.  It's actually amazing I didn't break anything.

     Error #8:  Trimming the plastic did not happen.  It was late, I was tired, I was in pain.  So I just put the blinds back up and left the excess plastic on the windows.  I started to trim it on one window, and it because obvious that it was going to take a level of precision, determination, and caring that I did not have.  It looks a little trashy, but it was a risk I already knew I was taking with the whole premise of the endeavor.  

I really hope that the plastic on my windows helps, and at the very least, doesn't hurt.  It wasn't a huge financial investment- the whole kit was $20, but it was an emotionally trying time for me.

TGIFF

     Yep, I said it, and I don't care.  And no, it's not a typo.  The week has been long and tedious.  The impending short week and holiday have made this week even more grueling.  At the beginning of the day, Friday doesn't feel much different than the other days this week.  In fact, a co-worker said "at least it's Friday?" (emphasis on the question mark) and all I could say was "It's still the beginning."
     I don't look forward to Fridays for the sake of Friday.  It is simply what Friday represents: two days of freedom.  Well, that's overstating it- it's just the weekend.  But I love those.  This weekend's theme is preparedness.   It doesn't sound like a fun theme, but it will be.  I must be prepared for the holiday weekend, so there will be some mundane chores, like laundry and grocery shopping.  However, I must also be prepared for the massive amounts of food to be consumed, so there will be a decent amount of that too.  Plus, a few good rounds of laughter with an Improv show, the rest of Laverne&Shirley season one, and my thoughts.  I may even catch up on the news to make Thanksgiving conversation more engaging.  (I hear there was an election recently?)
   
     And in an unrelated, or perhaps very related, sidenote, I offer you this link to a video clip of Cougar Town.  Mmm.  Wine. 

There'll Always Be Tomorrow

     Sometimes I put things off with the honest-to-goodness hope that tomorrow will never come.  I've never been overly concerned with the end of the world.  It doesn't seem like something worth worrying about.  Mainly because if it happens, it happens to everyone.  If it were possible for only a fraction of the world to end, then possibly I'd be more concerned.  But not likely.
     I often put of doing my laundry until I simply cannot put it off any longer.  I don't like doing it, and if I wait long enough, there's a chance I'll never have to do it.  I'd rather be dead having not wasted my living time doing laundry than have my last day be spent doing laundry.  The snag in this system is of course, the world doesn't end all that often.
     This theory only applies to chores.  I still make plans for the future.  I plan trips and buy tickets to events way off in the future.  I'm not going to hole myself up in my apartment not living because the world might end.  I'm simply not going to do the laundry right away, because the world might end.
     Also, I don't actually think it's going to end all that soon.  I am not a conspiracy theorist, or a religious nut, or a ... well, I don't even know what, because I am not close to being it.  I just use it as an excuse to choose the fun thing instead of the responsible boring thing.  Also, the excuse is predicated on the fact that the entire world would just end, all at once, so there won't be people rummaging through my things, finding my dirty laundry, and embarrassing me.  Truth be told, I'd be more embarrassed by dirty laundry in my basket and dirty dishes in my sink than I would be by an accidental auto erotic asphyxiation slip-and-fall.
     The point is, whenever I would say "I'll do it tomorrow," my mother would retort with "tomorrow never comes."  She said it as a cautionary tale, but I always looked at it with a hopeful eye.  If indeed tomorrow never comes, then I'll never have to do the laundry, wash the dishes, finish my homework, or do any of the other boring things standing in my way of pure awesomeness.

Happy Birthday to My Mother

     I'm writing this post with the tiniest bit of trepidation.  The internet makes the world a smaller place, and in some cases that's good, but in some cases it can be bad.  In this case, I'd like to tell the story of my family's response to my mother's impending 60th birthday.  It is not an overly flattering family portrait.  Were they to stumble upon this, they would be insulted.  I'm taking the chance that they will never ever stumble upon this, for many reasons, not the least of which is just how damn busy they are.

    

     All of my emails and responses have been reasonable, yet I can’t help but think they will find a way to make them unreasonable.  Somehow my two to three line emails are a giant interruption to their lives, not to mention the apparent impending chaos I am proposing. 

-You want US to do something?  For her BIRTHDAY?  Are you the DEVIL?

-Yes, apparently I am.

I simply wanted to know if they were chipping in for some cheesy heart-shaped candy-filled canister with all of our names on it.  And if so, can I get in on that, because I am not about to go to the trouble of doing it myself?  Also, frankly, it gives them the chance to not be upstaged.  Because if I’m left to my own devises, I will pull out the most thoughtful heartwarming gift anyone has ever seen.  Really, I’m trying to save them from embarrassment.  However, I get responses stating that they don’t have time to think of frivolous things like their mother’s birthday because they are too warn down from that little thing called life.  Something they have and have to work hard for, and something that I will never understand.  At least that’s how I infer it.  And usually I’m right about these things, because as I’ve mentioned, I’m a bit smarter than they are, and frankly I think more about it.

     Sister’s email was a two line response about sleep and work, and that’s all she had time for.  Wow.  Amazing.  Brothers-wife’s email was in a similar vain; things are just so busy she hasn’t even stopped for a second to notice that it was October.  Somehow these responses were very condescending.  I beg of them to take a moment or two before hitting reply.  Read the email.  Count to ten.  Construct your response.  Then press reply and write a simple, thought-out, well-meaning response.  Perhaps instead of “I’m so busy all of the time I haven’t even considered starting to think about inane things like your mother’s 60^th birthday,” you could write something more along the lines of “You bring up a good point.  We haven’t put our heads together yet, but we will let you know if we come up with anything.  Do you have any suggestions?”  The other bit of it was she simply repeated information to me that I had already provided.  I said “I talked to mom and she said her plan was to X.”  Brothers-wife responds with “well, she’s doing X.  Other than that, I don’t know.”  Yes, I already know she’s doing X.  However, X has nothing to do with her birthday.  Is it too damn hard to say “Oh, we’ll get her a card.”  “We’ll call her.”  Anything?  Jeez. 

      I shouldn’t be worked up about this, but I can see where it’s going, because the main thing about my family is they never ever change.  Lessons are never learned.  I mean, I can learn them, but that’s mostly why I moved away.  The lesson I learned was “don’t live near these people.” 

The Worst Thing in the World

     I hate grocery shopping.  Loathe it.  It is my least favorite thing to do.  Ever.  Chore is right.  It's a very chorey chore.  The choriest.  And I hate it.
     It's the worst chore in the world.  And it has to be repeated frequently.  Generally weekly.  It makes me hate the world.  It's a crappy errand that requires work, and it only leads to doing more work.  How awful.  It's a horrible vicious circle.  Go to the grocery store, buy food, bring it home, cook food, eat food, go BACK to the grocery store.  Every week, the same thing, over and over.
     There's got to be an easier way.  I do like food, but there are times, if food were available in pill form, I would go for it.  If it would prevent me from having to schlep to the grocery store, battle through the people, pick out the food, pay for the food, schlep it back home, put it away, cook it, eat it, and then stare at the place where it used to be cause me to go back.  Well, if I could avoid all that, bring on the pill.  I would still support actual food still being an option, you know, for emotional eating and when you just need something to do.  And candy.  But if I could get out of grocery shopping, I'd be pretty near the top of the sign up list.
     This isn't over between us, grocery shopping.