malinaldarose: (Default)
Because I am going out with friends this afternoon¹, I was rushing to get my chores done. One of my chores for this week was to pay bills. As I sat writing checks in the library², I became aware of a noise that sounded suspiciously like dripping water...because it was dripping water. The roof is leaking into the closet in that room. The Scrabble game is wet, as are a couple of other things stored in there.

I am so beyond depressed about the state of this house (especially after the damage that Jack did) that adding one more thing to the list at this point just makes me shrug. I will never be able to sell this house³ and if it doesn't burn down with me in it by the time I'm an old woman, it'll be something of a miracle.

I'm just so tired.

I don't know how I'm going to scrape together the money for my property taxes next month, but I am going out with my friends for the afternoon nevertheless.
¹ I am going out with friends this afternoon, dammit!
² I do it there because what better use for my former mother-in-law's antique rolltop desk that was abandoned by my ex-husband?
³ Not that I'm trying, or planning on trying.
malinaldarose: (Default) seems I have been a lot busy for a little bit....

Jack: Jack continues to be crated when I go to work. While I had little trouble getting him to go into the crate on Monday and Tuesday, as the week went on, getting him to go in voluntarily got progressively harder until by Thursday afternoon I had to give him a nudge and Friday afternoon I had to actually lift him into it. Food doesn't entice him; he will actually turn his face away from treats he likes if I try to give them to him in the vicinity of the crate. Special crate treats don't work, either. He hates the crate.

Unfortunately, he appears to still need it. At some point this week (and I have lost count), he learned that he could move the crate around the room, presumably by throwing himself at one side of it. After that, he got the curtains from the window he was nearest and destroyed them, then "walked" the crate across the room and got a brand new package of curtain rods which he somehow managed to get into the crate and chewed to death. The rods were longer than the crate, so I'm not at all certain how he accomplished that.

I haven't tried any crate training with him since last weekend because I haven't had the time and he doesn't want to cooperate. My feeling is that he has been crated as punishment.

I am becoming quite fond of his furry little face, though, and he reminds me strongly of Deuce even though his coloration is nothing like hers. The shape of the head, though, and his eyes are very like hers. Well. She was also a border collie mix.

We continue to go walkies twice a day. I am vastly annoyed with the friend on FB who more or less told me that I shouldn't have adopted a border collie as they require more exercise than just a couple of walks around the block, especially as I don't think I was complaining about walkies. I am actually aware of their requirements, having had a border collie mix before. But I didn't adopt the breed, I adopted the dog. My feet are actually bothering me less than I would have expected, and I've lost a couple of pounds. Imagine if I were eating properly in addition to walking with Jack twice a day!

Jack continues to be pretty much all I think about most of the time. Jack will almost certainly be the subject of my LJ Idol entry for this week (open topic). I have been so busy with Jack that I have run out of TeenyTinyTARDIS photos for my Tumblr account.

My Birthday: My birthday passed almost unremarked. I got scads of greetings on FB and a few here, but my parents seem to have cottoned on to the fact that I would rather not have a party. (Finally!) Dad replaced the dryer vent that Jack destroyed as a birthday present, and Mom took me shopping to pick out my own present, while Dad started patching the drywall in my bedroom (which I will end up finishing). (I may have mentioned this.) BFT and I went north to shop yesterday. It was quite a successful trip, too, other than the Olive Garden where we had planned to have lunch had burned down, so we had to go to TGI Fridays instead. We do have to go back north, however, as she bought some clothing and the clerk didn't remove the anti-theft tag. We're going to a different mall next weekend, however; a friend of hers runs a pet shop in one of the other malls up thataway. (Sekrit messij to [personal profile] chelseagirl: Note that I did not use the B-word.) My birthday continues at least through Wednesday, however, as Birthday Day at work is this week. Of course, since we have Tuesday off, no one will remember. Typical.

Doctor Who: That was quite the finale. I am actually rather wishing that some of it would be undone.... Read more... )

Feelings: I got an email from BFT earlier. She wanted to let me know that on a whim, she accepted an invitation from the DM to go to a game this afternoon. She wanted to see Sir M and his lady wife who were, alas, not there after all. HTWIWM was, however. Surprisingly, she did not have a meltdown all over the place (on my behalf), but did, instead, carry on a civilized conversation. She said that the DM wanted to know if I'd be interested in gaming; she told him she didn't think so. Not until I get that apology I am owed. You really think that after not speaking to you for five years, I'm just going to show up for a game? Dude. You really have little connection to reality.

But now I am sad. Well, if Jack hadn't been occupying so much of my brain lately, I probably would have been sad this week, anyway, because whatever else he may have been, my ex-husband was always very good with dogs....
malinaldarose: (Default)
It's going to be an interesting day, to say the least. I woke up crying this morning; I dreamed about HTWIWM again. Gotta stop doing that.

Turned on the light and there was a wasp/hornet/six-legger/wtf-ever on the bedroom wall. Those suckers are not supposed to be crawling around before dawn, dammit. It's why I haven't yet called an exterminator. Well, that, and being extremely broke until pay day. Wasp/hornet/six-legger/wtf-ever was escorted from the premises. I may as well start keeping a glass and card in the bedroom again.

Went out for groceries. For myself, I purchased a loaf a bread, paper products, and toppings for a pizza I have in mind to construct later. For a prospective dog, I purchased a new leash, a new collar, a couple of toys, a Nylabone, a new water bowl, and a new food bowl. The air filter I also purchased was for Mr. Lawnmower, but is probably going back because I don't think it'll work.

I am nervous about going out to the rescue this morning. I suppose the dog I am meeting, if he is okay with cats, will fit in just fine. But I've never chosen a pet on my own before, and I'm absolute rubbish at "you'll just know." When I said that to MyAuntie, she helpfully replied, "Yeah, but you WILL." Yeah, but what if I DON'T? What if I bring him home and he and the cats simply don't mesh? What if after I told them that I could never foresee a circumstance in which I would have to take him back, I have to take him back?

I'm not even certain how to behave if I do bring him home. Perhaps it's helpful that although it's sunny right now, it's supposed to rain later in the day. Maybe an enforced afternoon on the couch would be best. I've already done my chores, so I really could just spend the day reading or watching TV...since mulching leaves isn't going to be an option. (Dad might come down to look at the lawnmower, though I told Mom to send him only if he didn't have other things to do.)

I have, in the past week, pulled out my trusty Arthurian Tarot and have started pulling a daily card. Today's was The Wounded King, which is all about inner wisdom and spiritual healing, and depicts the Wounded King laid out in a clearing -- with his faithful dog at his side.
malinaldarose: (Default)
Thursdays hate me. I just thought I'd point that out.

The garbage dudes have just come and gone -- naturally, fifteen minutes after I went out in my jammies (and heavy coat) to haul the cans back up to the house. I discovered last night that my garage doors were not jammed shut with ice and snow as I had thought. Oh, no, it's much more fun than that. There is a crack across the concrete in the driveway, and the surface has heaved upward so that the doors, which swing outward, get caught. There are three possible solutions: 1) trim the bottom of the doors, which would necessitate taking them down and putting them back up, 2) just taking the doors down and getting rid of them, 3) replacing the driveway. I can't afford to have the driveway replaced (though it needs it; that crack is not the only problem), and I doubt very much that I could get anyone to help me with taking the doors down and putting them back up, so I guess the doors will just have to come down and go away...which I will probably also not be able to get anyone to help me with.

Let me explain the doors. When HTWIWM put his wood shop out in the garage, he did several things. He built a second floor into the garage, since there was height enough. He installed a furnace. He insulated the shit out of everything (but, as in the house, did not put, you know, walls over the insulation). He put swinging doors over the regular garage door in the first bay (it's a two-car garage) for insulation and for added security. (The second overhead door hasn't been opened in probably a decade, and does, in fact, have insulation and foam over the outside of it, though I suppose I'm going to have to make that go away this summer, since critters have nested in it and basically ruined it. But I digress.) Now that the driveway has heaved, I can open the swinging doors only far enough for me to slip through them sideways, and both doors have to be opened for that. No way I can get anything else out through them. I had to maneuver the recyling wheelie bin through the breezeway last night, which meant, basically, lifting it high enough to get it up the step between the garage and the breezeway. No way I was trying that with the garbage bin which has four sacks of used kitty litter in it. I'll have to unload it to get it outside. (Garbage went to the curb in the metal can that I had left outside back when there was too much snow and ice to get the doors open; that can never went back inside because I'm lazy.)

Anyway. When he built those doors, he actually went to the trouble of making them fit in with the rest of the house. I like the added security. I like that no one can just come up and peer into the garage. I like the doors. And now, like everything else, they're fucked.

I can't blame him for the winter and the heaving of the concrete. I can blame him for the doors, and for everything that's wrong with this house, and for breaking promises and sticking me with it. Sometimes I think that maybe I, too, should cut my losses and run away.
malinaldarose: (Default)
It is quite cold for the beginning of Memorial Day Weekend. I don't think the temperature got above 43° today. Brrr. I do not approve. It is supposed to be cooler than normal, I think, all weekend. Even the cats are cold; I came home from work to find that Merlin had burrowed under some blankets in the living room.

Yesterday's shopping trip was a huge success. I took Grama to KMart and we criss-crossed the store at least three times. She was sort of outraged that the one clerk we managed to collar to ask about eggcrate mattress covers had no idea where to find same, but he was from Electronics and only happened to be in Housewares. Still, he did help us find them, and when we got back to the Heights, I remade her rock-hard bed for her. I hope she finds the eggcrate helpful.

I picked her up around 1:30 and she kept telling everyone that we were going out to dinner, and we wouldn't be back until around 6:00. I was pretty sure she'd be tuckered long before then, and I was right. We had dinner at 3:00 and I had her back in her room by 4:00...though it's possible she didn't know how early it still was.

Last evening, I ended up going out to see Star Trek Into Darkness. Again. For the third time. See, people tend to forget that conversations on Facebook are not private. If someone who is an unfriend posts something about my former husband's happy new life on the Wall of someone who is my friend, I will see it. Which is what happened. So...I was unhappy. And to keep myself from obsessing about it (notgoodenoughsaidhelovedmeashewalkedoutthedoornotgoodenoughnotgoodenougnotgoodneough!) I went to a movie. And had popcorn. And soda. (So much for quitting, eh?) So I have seen Star Trek three times, but that's not a record; I saw Deathly Hallows Part 2 five times and The Avengers seven times.

Work was mainly quiet today; we were operating with practically a skeleton crew. There was an unfortunate exchange with That Lawyer Who Will Not Understand, but since he is now dealing exclusively with my supervisor and our fair hearing rep, I don't worry about it too much. I was joking with With An Eye that tonight was a good night to come home, curl up in a blankie with some hot chocolate, and then maybe take a nap. She agreed, though another worker decided that schnapps needed to be tossed in for good measure.

Didn't sleep especially well last night, and dreamed that I was alone -- abandoned -- in a roomful of zombies. Hm. Guess where that came from....
malinaldarose: (Default)
I am up. I am cold. These things will pretty much go hand in hand until next June or so.

Yesterday was quieter at work, which was nice, but I am feeling totally out of control again. Part of this has to do with my supervisor going into my cube while I was uptown the last time and neatly ordering my stacks of mail...and not sending me any. So I had a week's worth of mail stacked up when I returned. Also, we have recently lost the clerk who was going through bank statements and flagging large transactions for us so that we have to slog through them ourselves, which takes a while, and I have a few of those backed up. Plus I have had new applications come in that I haven't had a chance to go over and we're supposed to get an acknowledgement letter out within five days. And it's payroll, recerts are due, and I don't have the information I need to complete a few of them, including the one that was actually due last month that I extended because I didn't have time to work on it because I was out two days being sick from the damned shingles. (Which are cleared up completely, though I still have discoloration on my skin where I had the rash/blisters.)

All of which means that I shouldn't be taking this afternoon off, but I am. I have a dentist appointment this afternoon (just my semi-annual cleaning), which just...normally these appointments are scheduled first thing in the morning, which is far easier for me. Late afternoon just doesn't work, for a lot of reasons. I also have to go out to the vet's office and pick up Sheila's monthly supply of Rimadyl (if you can hear that whimpering noise, that's my checkbook), and I should probably finally go and have my eyes checked, since I've been having trouble focusing (bifocals, here I come!) for months. It'd be nice to be able to do some cross-stitch again....

I have been thinking about NaNoWriMo. I'm not going to do it. I have done it before, and won it, too, so I know that I can do it, should I choose. Actually, to be more accurate, I've been thinking about writing again. I...feel better about myself, I guess, when I'm writing. I have worlds in my head, I just don't have stories to go with them. I was thinking about taking a look at one of the things that popped into my head during LJ Idol. It was one of the pieces that garnered the most comments and with which I was most pleased. Well, we'll see.

I have been having a difficult time lately. Yes, it has been years, but...well, partly, it's fall, which is never an easy time for me. In some ways, winter is easier than fall. And partly, everywhere I look, in all these unfinished rooms, there are reminders of his presence, or lack thereof. I suppose there always will be, and I just have to suck it up and deal. But one does get tired of having to....
malinaldarose: (Default)
  • Yesterday morning, I woke up from dreaming about HTWIWM. I don't remember the specifics, just that I dreamed about him.

  • This morning, I woke up at 3:51 a.m. (well, that's when I opened my eyes, so say 3:50) from a nightmare that involved a ghost and my great-grandmother. My great-grandmother has been dead for sixteen years, but in the dream, she was very much alive. Elderly, but alive. Weird. I don't normally have nightmares.

  • It is much easier for me to get to the uptown office now that the elementary school on the secondary east-west street that I drive to avoid traffic (and traffic lights!) on the main east-west street has closed.

  • Driving that route home at 5:00 p.m., however, is an exercise in frustration, because it's a residential street and people who park on the street are now home. That, and I seem to get behind an inordinate number of people who don't know where they are, and end up driving at 20 mph. (The speed limit is 30.)

  • They penetrated my street yesterday morning while I was at work. I knew they were going to, of course; the "loose gravel" signs went up on Friday, though they didn't do the deed until Monday. This is only the second time that I can remember them doing this since I moved in here twelve years ago. ("Penetrated" may not, by the way, be the proper term for it; that's what my mother always called it, and for some obscure reason, I just assumed she knew what she was talking about.)

  • I watched Under the Tuscan Sun yesterday evening, and except for the bit where the Gay Tour of Tuscany stops in front of the duomo (arigato) in Florence, I cried through most of it. It used to be one of my favorite movies BD (i. e., before the divorce). I hadn't been able to watch it since, even though I had intended to watch it before going to Italy. I kept putting it off, though (just like learning Italian!), and then suddenly the trip was over and I was home. But now I have done it, and I think I may almost count it as a milestone. Almost.

  • My leaping to go on this tour was sort of like Frances leaping to buy Bramasole. Sort of. Even though I knew about it for a year. The way I ended up going was totally out of character for me.

  • Mind you, I wish I had the guts (and the money) to do something similar. Heck, at this point, I'd be happy to have my own house turn out the way Bramasole did.

  • I'm sure there was a reason I started this as a list, though it seems to have escaped me.

  • I'm a bit at loose ends, having finished editing my photos. What do I do with my time now? (Oh, I know. There's plenty of reading to be done. Or poonstix. I could be cleaning the basement, for instance.)

  • MyAuntie informs me that my grandmother has decided to buy another car after all, and asked me if I could do an internet search for a suitable Subaru in Gram's price range. She asked me this by email. Which uses, you know, the internet. I see what you did there, manufacturing another reason for me to go visit my grandmother. When she turns the TV back down so that it doesn't give me an instant headache when I walk in the door, then I'll go visit.

  • For my photographer friends, the National Geographic Photo Contest. I'm thinking of submitting something from my trip.

  • And...that's the timer for dinner. All y'all are saved by the bell. Well, beep, anyway.
malinaldarose: (thursday)
It's Thursday morning, I have a towel on my head, and I should be getting ready for work. It occurred to me this morning that I might be able to retire in fifteen years (and a couple of months) when I turn 60 if I pump a little bit more money into my deferred comp account. On the other hand, if I have the money in hand, I'd be more likely to get the house and my credit cards paid off.... *sigh* My neighbor was telling me last evening that she only has two more years of teaching to go, and then she'll be retiring. It's already hard enough seeing her relaxing in her hammock all summer long. And, yes, I know how very hard she works during the school year; not only is she a teacher, but she coaches various sports, so some evenings, she doesn't get home until well after I'm in my pajamas. But still.... Ah, well. I could never have been a teacher, and that's that.

The Lead Alien managed to find out where his stuff is stowed. It's under the basement steps. Which are currently completely inaccessible. The only way to get at them is to shift everything in the basement. And while TLA offered to help, since the accident a few years ago (the one that precipitated HTWIWM's mid-life crisis), his right arm has been totally useless, so, frankly, I'm better off just doing it by myself. It's not like the basement doesn't need to be cleaned out anyway, and there is a space that used to be occupied by HTWIWM's metal lathe and is now occupied by...mold and mildew, basically, that I can use for swap space. (There was a rag of a sheet that was used to cover the lathe when it wasn't in use and some cardboard boxes left behind, and they're black with mildew. When water does come into the basement, that particular corner gets wet. I haven't touched it yet because it's just so gross, but now I'm going to have to.) I'm going to have to wear a mask and long gloves to work down there, and have plenty of bleach-water handy. I'll get started on it this weekend, though, because if I can open up a path so that we can get to the under-stair space from the side, then we won't have to move everything. (Because everything would include those ten-foot long (or longer) cherry planks of The Old Man's which were brought in, I think through the window because there wasn't sufficient turning radius inside the house.) Remember those photos I posted ages ago about what my library looked like when I started to clean it out after HTWIWM left? The basement is a comparable mess, because the only thing HTWIWM took out of there was the aforementioned metal lathe. Everything else that he had been hoarding for years is still down there....

So that's my weekend....

I haven't gotten to it yet in my trip reports, but I have to report that I caught a cold in Venice. Actually, I probably caught it in Florence, but the sore throat, sneezing, coughing, watery eyes, etc. started in Venice. Those symptoms, at least, are gone, but I have a lingering cough that is not making me happy. I really just want to go back to bed. Well, the thought of going into work usually makes me just want to go back to bed....
malinaldarose: (Default)
  • Hurting a little bit this morning. Remembering a trip four years ago that I wasn't wanted on, and in which I was oblivious to the undercurrents -- because I trusted him.

  • Not making a grocery run this morning; I have plenty of stuff in the fridge and freezer. No reason to add to it. Though there's no chocolate in the house, so I'll probably stop at KMart on my way back from the post office later.

  • Finished mowing the backyard last night. Seem to have survived. I need to move on to the side yard, which despite the lack of rain and the fact that most of it is exposed to sunlight, has grown great guns and needs to be whacked. And we won't even mention my driveway, which has weeds growing from all the cracks in the concrete. I think I'm just going to move the van and mow the driveway, too. I've heard that vinegar will act in the same manner as Round-Up and is slightly less toxic.

  • My first load of laundry is in the washer. It's supposed to storm later, so I wanted to get it done and hung as soon as possible. I don't usually get it out there until late morning.

  • I have become so obsessed with The Avengers that I have actually ordered a hardbound collection of comics from the SFBC. It arrived yesterday. It's a huge, heavy book. I dove into it immediately, and seem to have been dropped into the middle of something where Tony is calling Steve the New Nick Fury -- and Steve is dressed all in black -- and boy howdy. I was sucked into it pretty quickly, though, and read through the equivalent of three regular comics before I came up for air. I am not going to start buying comics. I am not going to start buying comics. I am not going to start buying comics.

  • Part of the reason I don't -- in general -- like comics is that almost everything happens in the dialogue and people just don't talk like that. Another thing is that I read the dialogue, but don't look at the art, which I find mostly confusing, but perhaps that's because I'm not accustomed to it. So I feel like I skimmed through what I read yesterday, but missed something important. Maybe I did. Maybe I didn't. Maybe it doesn't really matter.

  • Perhaps I will go see Spiderman this afternoon. I had thought that the next Batman movie was starting this weekend and had planned to stay well away from the theater. But perhaps that's next week?

  • Had to explain the difference between Marvel and DC to someone at work yesterday when they thought that the Batman movies meant that he would be joining in the next Avengers movie. Not exactly the right person for that job (see above re: not -- in general -- liking comics). On the same subject, I recently read a fic in which Bruce Wayne and Tony Stark went to the same boarding school and in which Tony figured out immediately who Batman was. It was episodic in nature and went back and forth, and was really good. Wish I'd bookmarked it.

  • Have been thinking about looking into getting Sheila some canine companionship when I get back from Italy. Although I love border collies, a pharoah hound is probably more my speed, according to a couple of different breed finders. Or a bulldog, and I do like bulldogs. A pharoah hound is a good size (I like to be able to put my hand down and have a dog head there), but I'd need to find out how they are in general with cats. I don't think I'd worry about the cats with a bulldog -- they're not very fast, and the cats are. Pharoah hounds are supposedly quiet and low energy (like me). I'm sure there are people who would urge me to just go out to the SPCA, but I've never had anything but rescued dogs -- and other people's problems (like Deuce taking one look at me and equating me with her abuser, even though we worked that out within ten minutes or so) -- and I think I'd like to create some problems of my own, thank you very much.

Don' Wanna

Apr. 12th, 2012 06:58 am
malinaldarose: (thursday)
I don't want to be a grown up today. I don't feel well, and I just want to go back to bed. But. There's a unit meeting. And I missed last month's meeting. And they're discussing staffing changes...which probably won't involve me, since I haven't been pulled aside and spoken to about it, but one never knows.

Last evening, I was feeling miserable enough that I bought pens. I have enough pens in this house to write...for a very long time. (There's a Latin word that means "for a very long time." Diu? No...that's "daily," isn't it? Gods. Can't remember. It was one of my favorite words once upon a time just because it was one little word that meant such a big thing.) The last time I had so many pens, I sorted them out, put about fifty of them in a tin and sold it on eBay.

I was thinking today was Titanic Day (I've been thinking about Titanic (and RMS Titanic) for a while, now), but apparently, I'm off by a few days. Don't know why 4/12 stuck in my head. Probably because of April 1912. I have powerful memories associated with the movie, and, like so many others, have been fascinated by the wreck. My memories of the movie, alas, have been tainted by the events of 2008 and 2009; I can't watch it any longer.

Also, the kiddie song has been running through my head for days: "Oh, they built the ship Titanic to sail the ocean blue, and they said it was a ship that the water wouldn't go through...."
malinaldarose: (river_bug)
  • It's my own fault for leaving it unattended, of course, but I was out of the kitchen for less than two minutes and returned to find that Kethri had chewed an opening in the center of the package of beef strips I bought for stir fry and was licking them. I rinsed the three top strips; I'm cooking them for lunch, anyway. Probably get some dread cat-spawned illness. At this point, I don't even care. Maybe I'll forget to wash my hands after changing the kitty litter, too, just to do the job right.

  • The van has, in the last week or so, started to feel...wobbly when I drive it.

  • I just uncovered the bedroom windows and realized that I wasn't imagining that the stain on the ceiling had grown larger. The roof has been leaking; there are water stripes all the way down the wall.

  • I just want to cry. Choose to be happy, indeed. When, precisely, am I supposed to do that when the universe is conspiring against me and has been for years?
malinaldarose: (dear diary)
This week's LJI topic was "preoccupied." I wrote about a serial killer, 'cause I woke up with it in my head and it seemed to fit. Here's the other thing I could have written about.

I think about death all the time. It's always there, lurking in the back of my mind. I'm not suicidal, either actively or passively, so you don't need to worry about that or urge me to call a crisis hotline. I'm past that stage. I suppose, now that I think about it, I'm even past the "if I get sick, I won't fight" stage, which surprises me this morning. Maybe there's hope after all.

No, I constantly ponder the perils of living -- and growing older -- alone. You all know my most beloved husband left me two years and ten months ago. He was so eager to get the fuck away from me and get nestled into the arms of his little Twinkie that he came up with the money to pay for the divorce and paid it off with a single check. He was so eager to get away from me that he left with only his clothing (and not even all of that) and the contents of his woodshop. He as much as told me that if he spent one more night in my company, he was going to kill himself.

How do you deal with something like that? How do you go from "how is your marriage?" to "If I stay with you any longer, I am going to shoot myself and you'll have to clean my brains off the ceiling"?

He was my rock. The still center about which I built my life. We were going to get old together, to take care of one another. Now that's gone and I am alone. And I have come to realize that I will remain alone. (Not counting various dogs and cats.)

I am forty-four years old, which is not at all old as we reckon these things. But I have the niggling aches and pains of middle age. I am having "female troubles" that commonly manifest in middle age. I have an astonishing amount of grey at the roots of my dyed hair. And I'm beginning to wonder what it's going to be like when I'm fifty. Sixty? Seventy? Ninety?

I am beginning to wonder what will happen when I have my first heart attack. (Note that I said "when.") Or a stroke. Or the usually silent cat brushes past me on the stairs and I don't see or hear him and I trip and fall.

I think a lot about my coworker who fell down her basement stairs and lay there alone and dying for twelve hours or more until she was missed at work on Monday morning. She didn't die -- then. No, she died in a trauma center six months or more later after numerous surgeries and therapies couldn't heal her brain injuries. My basement floor is concrete....

Anyway. That's what preoccupies me. Well, that and how the heck I'm going to become and stay caught up on my astonishingly heavy caseload....
malinaldarose: (ducky ncis)
I was delighted to see a falling star when I took Sheila out this morning. It seemed quite low, too, and appeared to be over the neighbor's house. I'm sure it wasn't, but normally when I see them, I have to tip my head back quite far and they seem very high. So that was a pretty cool thing with which to start the day, and I must try to hang onto that sense of wonder when I get to That Place.

For some odd reason, I also have a strong urge to get dressed and go to WickedMart before work this morning. I can't imagine why as there's nothing there that I want or need, and their office supply selection is not large enough to be much of a draw. Maybe it's because I didn't get there yesterday morning for cookies for my friend J's retirement party. But that's okay because The Girls are hoping to get together to celebrate both J's and My Twin's retirements in the next couple of weeks. And for them to see my green walls, of course.

I really liked last night's episdoe of NCIS, mostly for Read more... ) and for the cameos. A few of those actors I'm pretty sure were actually there, but a couple of them -- Read more... ) -- were CGI. Read more... )

Work is work. Work, work, work. I have a stack of undercare items that I've been hauling around from building to building and not touching for months. Today, I am going through that stack and getting those things off my desk...because on Friday, I have to go back uptown again, and I'm not hauling them with me any more. There are also openings that I need to get through, but I'm doubting that I'm going to get to those; I can't seem to concentrate on openings except when I'm uptown.

I am trying to get some of my disparate tracking items moved from folders into notebooks. For instance, I have file folders for pending cases, medical information requested (on one of my non-nursing home caseloads), and AD cases submitted to the state. I also have recert lists. I'm thinking things might be made simpler if I put all those lists into a notebook with divided sections...though perhaps not the recert lists (at least, not the current one), as keeping them with the pulled recert cases only makes sense. I'm sure I must have some other lists somewhere; I'm a great one for lists, but they do help me keep...I was going to say "on top of things," but I haven't been on top of things for months. They do let me know how much water is over my head. Yes, that's better.

For some odd reason, all the cover art has vanished from my iTunes library and when I instruct iTunes to go and get it, the process fails. I did discover a way to get the art manually, so I have been laboriously doing that, one letter at a time (I'm up to the Ds). It's actually sort of a soothing process, except that it makes my right shoulder ache, but that's an ergonomics issue. You wouldn't think that not having the art would make a difference, but of course when I scroll through my iPod list looking for music, I'm not reading the CD names, I'm looking for the artwork, so it does make a bit of a difference.

I hatehatehate the phrase "first world problems" (and every time I see it, I have an urge to shoot the person using it in the face, especially if they're disparaging someone else's woes, 'cause that's bullshit) because, dammit, I do live in the so-called First World, and these are my problems. However, not having cover art definitely falls under that category. And it's a problem I'm solving on my own...which is possibly why I find it so soothing, considering all the other, larger problems I have to deal with.
malinaldarose: (fawkes)
The teller that I generally go to at the credit union is a woman who has known me since I was...nineteen? twenty? Quite a long time, anyway. She was the second assistant manager at the toy store, anyway, and I worked there from 1988 to 1992. I was twenty, then. (Interesting oddity: her daughter was best friends with HTWIWM's girlfriend prior to me. Other interesting oddity: I am friends with the aforementioned previous girlfriend. Well, FB friends, anyway, which isn't quite friends, but she is still an interesting person, who seems to have achieved everything she set out to do.)

Anyway. We always chat a bit, with longer or shorter conversations depending on whether there's a line behind me or not. She was always very supportive and encouraging, and was telling me that I didn't know what the future was going to bring and maybe he would come back...right up until I told her he had married the Twinkie. Yesterday, she was encouraging me to get out there, start dating. My response? *gak*

I have no interest in dating at all. The few people I have even a remote interest in are all paired (or more) up. And I can't imagine moving someone into my house (my house! mine!) again. I suppose if it came to it, I'd have to sell the place and find another that was (the mythical) ours -- or actually build that apartment over the garage that we always used to joke about building for the Old Man. Of course, there are houses for sale all over the neighborhood, so this mythical person could just buy a house up the street, or on the next block, and that'd work, too.

Much more room for books that way.

Of course, when it comes right down to it, I suppose it's a form of cowardice. I can't trust someone like that again. I can't open myself up to the possibility of that kind of pain. I'm not over the first time; I don't need to contemplate there being another.

So, no.
malinaldarose: (thursday)
...and you know what that means.

I woke up this morning from dreams about work: getting work done, not getting work done, calling in sick because I was already late, so what the hell, etc. And I was living in a tiny apartment that didn't even have its own bathroom in an apartment complex that was apparently for senior citizens (mostly). At least, while I was in the shared bathroom down the hall, two elderly ladies were having a conversation right outside the frosted glass door, so I could see their shadows as I tried to wash up. At least there was a beach, but before I could call in sick to spend the day on the beach, I woke up... HTWIWM's last cruel words crashing around in my head.

Oh, it's gonna be a great day!
malinaldarose: (Default)
It's fairly obvious, I think, that I've been having a tough time the last few days. There are reasons for it, reasons which I know very well, and which are transitory. Until next time, of course.

I have a headache this morning, a deep headache that's not going to go away. I get them sometimes; I wake up with them and they stay with me all day. They're not migraines, I don't think, because the pain is more nagging and persistent than the awful pain that I imagine a migraine to be. Mind you, I'll still take ibuprofen, because if I leave it alone, it will get worse during the day, especially since it's like to be a bit of a stressful one. I will go to work early again, and I will accomplish things. I spoke to a different supervisor yesterday about getting OT and she told me to claim five hours this week and send my sheet to her. Which I would have done, too, except that she pointed out that she was saving client notice system printouts to justify the OT she had approved because the date and time of the notices is printed on them. I only did one COLA case during my OT yesterday and I won't be doing COLA cases this morning, I don't think. Well, I might be able to do a couple of recerts. What I'm trying to say is that even with the approval, I won't be able to claim the OT. Dammit.

Caseloads continue to go up, the number of workers continues to decline and management continues to insist that we can get our monthly work done in the time allotted.

In other words, nothing ever changes.

The shire business meeting was last night. We were supposed to have the conference room from 6:30, but the library board's meeting went half an hour over. Fortunately, most of the shire members do run on SCA time (similar to football time), so we didn't have a voting quorum until about 7:10 -- for a 6:30 meeting. The only bit of business we really accomplished was to decide that we won't have a Twelfth Night celebration again this year because we no longer have a site for it thanks to the heating issues in the building we normally use. This also means that we don't have a site for our proposed A&S classes, either, unless people want to do them in their homes, which is possible. Fortunately, the woman -- My Nemesis -- who was so opposed to doing such things in private homes (because she got a bug up her ass about the people who most often hosted these sorts of things) has vanished, leaving behind only a fading sulfurous stench.

And...I got nuthin' else, so I guess it's time to think about getting ready for work. Seven more days and I get a week's vacation....
malinaldarose: (tardis sexy)
  • No bats last night. Yay.

  • Neighbors are having a garage sale, which means a lot of traffic and a lot of unaccustomed noise.

  • Tired again this morning, but then, we knew that.

  • Also a bit sneezy, which is unusual. I'd rather have a cold than allergies, all things considered.

  • Have been for grocery run. I bought an itty-bitty bright purple colander. It's a good size for small servings of fruit and vegetables. And it's cute. I'm considering getting a bright red one for MyAuntie, since she and Nuncle have at least one serving of grapes daily.

  • Just realized I have to go back out to mail a PBS book because if I don't do it today, I'll have to take it to MI with me and mail it then because of my work schedule this next week.

  • Told the aforementioned neighbors to help themselves to the apples from the tree in the front yard. I'd've told them to help themselves to the tree out back, but decided I didn't want them traipsing through the yard and possibly leaving the gate open. The tree out front is right next to their driveway.

  • Doctor Who tonight! I'm not due for weather from Hurricane Irene, but if that bitch messes with my TV reception, I'll be...irritated.

  • That said, to all of my friends who will be (or have already been) affected, please take care. Evacuate if you must, batten the hatches and hunker down otherwise. Be safe.

  • I am working on this cross stitch pattern (and have been for years; I put it down for a while because I didn't want to end up associating it with the Worst Time Of My Life Ever). I started in the middle, near the third leaf from the top. I finally have that whole section finished, and for the first time, moved the canvas (I have it on a rolling frame). I am now starting on the lower third. Progress! Someday, that will hang in my renovated house.

  • I am meeting BFT for lunch at my favorite restaurant. Hope it's not crowded.

  • There are a lot of motorcyclists in town for a Motorcycle Event. Every time I see someone riding, I think of HTWIWM. And if the bike bears any resemblance to his, I find myself searching the riders' face. Yes, I am pathetic. What am I hoping for? That it's him? That it's not him? It's worse when it's a man and a woman riding together. Again, what am I hoping for?

  • Broken promises, shattered dreams.

  • Hmph. There's probably a title, there. Maybe another fairy tale story, since I seem to be writing those and fanfic and nothing else these last couple of years.

  • Yarg. I'm depressing myself, though I seem to do that pretty readily on Saturdays. I think too much while I'm doing my chores.

  • And speaking of chores...bye!
malinaldarose: (Default)
My Auntie and I were talking about Grama while we were at the mall shoping one day, and she said that Grama felt as though people expected her to be over Grampa's death, even though it's only been a couple of months. To which I replied (somewhat indignantly, I might add), "You know, it's been three years since [HTWIWM] left me. It's been two years since he left me again and divorced me, and a year since he married the girl he left me for. And yet, I still cry about it. And they were married for sixty-five years. Jeez louise!"

And this morning was one of those times.

By the time I got to work, I had a stabbing headache right above my left eye which stayed with me long enough for me to consider staying home this afternoon, but by lunchtime, it had finally eased. I thought I was caught up and finally starting to get somewhere with my new work when my two boxes that I had last week at the other office arrived this afternoon. Suddenly, my cube was a paper-strewn mess.

I got home tonight and couldn't think of what to have for supper and had a Carbohydrate and Fat Feast.

And I'm tired. So tired. And yet my sense of humor seems to be returning, as I have Lily von Schtupp singing "I'm So Tired" (from Blazing Saddles) in my head.
I did get plenty of compliments on the henna tattoo, though, including one person who urged me to get that same design actually inked there...but I think not. It's certainly pretty enough, but I think I'd get very tired of it eventually. I am vastly amused to see that some of it has transferred to my bicep, probably overnight, so that I have just the merest shadow of a tattoo there.
Mom says that she and Dad are going to be traveling to Philly at some point in the next couple of months to finally pick up the stuff from Grandpa's house that they're supposed to get because after, what, five years? Dad's brother has decided to put the house on the market. I wonder if that means they'll bring back the coffee table for me. There's a very long coffee least six feet long that was always in the house. We used to play at it as kids because it's just the right height for kids sitting on the floor. I really love that table and no one else wanted it the last I knew. But I haven't the slightest idea what I'd actually do with it. It's so...long¹. There is a console sort of cabinet and mirror that are supposed to come to me, and possibly a couch. It's an old, broken down, desperately comfy thing that can only be sat upon comfortably by someone sitting across it. It's probably older than I am. Well, anyway.
I'm up to 52 books for the year. Exciting, no?
¹ That's what she said, ba-dum bump.


Aug. 15th, 2011 07:35 am
malinaldarose: (merlin_reading)
There's nothing like the feather-light touch of cat whiskers on your bare flank when you're standing in the bathroom sobbing your eyes out because no one gives a damn to let you know that the cat, at least, would really appreciate it if you got out of his way so that he could steal stuff from the trash to play with.
malinaldarose: (Default)
Bad: Today should have been our eleventh anniversary.

Good: It's Friday.

Bad: It's not pay day.

Good: I'm going to Sterling Renaissance Festival tomorrow.

Bad: That's what we did the day after our wedding; we joked that it was our honeymoon. I almost wore my wedding gown, until I thought about trying to manage all that white fabric in the privies.

Double plus ungood: I'm going with my parents.

Good: I am going to get at least some of the work done on my house.

Bad: I'm going to be paying it off for the next ten years and I'll never be able to afford a new vehicle until then.

Good: My hydrangea is loaded with deep blue blossoms.

Bad: It occurs to me that I may have to give up my vacation to stay here and babysit contractors while they're working on my bathroom.

Good: They'll be working on my bathroom.


malinaldarose: (Default)

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