The runny nose started Saturday night. I am a fairly snotty person and I attributed this to allergies. Overnight Saturday, my throat hurt badly enough to wake me from sleep several times. Sunday morning I lay in my bed trying to swallow the pain away, all the while noticing pressure in my ears — not quite an earache, more discomfort than pain. When I did rise, I had a terrible time moving because of body aches, and quickly noted a headache and swollen glands as well.
I took Lysine, because swollen glands for me usually mean a lip explosion is coming, and my body does that every spring.
I have been resting and sleeping. I do not have much coughing at all, nor do I have a fever. (Lingering just under or at 100.) For these reasons, I’m not worthy of a test. It doesn’t matter, as my family is certain this is not the plague and they are all FINE.
Statistics suggest I have a cold. Statistics also indicate a large number of infected persons are asymptomatic. Unfortunately, I took statistics and I have anxiety disorder, so this is just a real fun time for me.
Every time I drink tea, I feel better. I mean literally, I feel better. Every sip elicits “Ahh!” I have been consuming large quantities of herbal tea, and this morning I had some of the New Zealand Twinings with orange blossom. I feel better when I eat Dreamsicles, too, but that’s not new. Let’s heat up the kettle again, shall we?
We’re low on honey, so I got on Amazon to order some last night but it’s out of stock. You just know some greedy fucker is holed-up with cases of honey that will crystallize BUT WHATEVER!
I am still sick. However, I have experienced a significant decrease in my discomfort thanks to tea and rest.
Netflix released a show about Madam CJ Walker. It’s quite good. I watched more than I slept through.
Also, Saturday, I logged back into Twitter for the first time in 15 months and I was surprised to discover some of you have been sharing my blog links even in my absence. That’s so kind. Thank you!
Overwhelmed with thoughts and feelings, don’t even know where or how to begin. There are intuitive people who know everything is connected far beyond what the eye can see, and then there are other people. Not a real fan of other people at the moment. Not sure where the blindness comes from. I long ago traded feelings of invincibility for vulnerability. Don’t possess strange American arrogance sayin shit like, “That won’t happen here.” Have not been granted good immunity. Definitely feelin humanity. My shine is connected to a collective dimmer switch.
So I present to you these happies.
Last weekend, we went to five stores and we got the toilet paper.
I know what’s important, so I also got the last box of Dreamsicles.
The girls, apparently bored out of their minds, snapped artful Polaroid shots of one another.
One night, they made DINNER.
My new specs arrived.
I can do all things through these specs. Drive, text, type, write on paper, look up at people, even when reading the captions on the tv, the images aren’t blurry — both things at the same time! Magic.
One boss brought me orange slices,
and the other boss brought his puppy.
Only the orange slices stayed still.
One night we had pizza with the bad-for-you cheese sauce.
Today, The Mister began working from home. Remember how the boy had his command center in our dining room? Now this:
This morning when I left the house it was 64 degrees and Blanche was covered in maple buds and the very air smelled of spring and hope.
I am feeling fortunate, in spite of and because of the icky state of the world. I hope this Friday finds you feeling fortunate, too.
I overheard people greeting one another yesterday and listening to them talk and guffaw as they shook hands reminded me of condom use in the 90s. People engaging like, “I’m okay, you’re okay!” when what they really mean is “We both appear symptom-free, so let’s share our cooties!”
The Mister’s place of business had no work today and none tomorrow, to reopen Monday after a deep scrub. This is incredibly fascinating as the market doesn’t close for four days straight, and regarding his work The Mister always says, “Greed never takes a four-day.” The market also has cooties?
Other adults in our community have been told not to come to work for x days, or to work from home.
In the course of my work this week, I have visited the bank and the post office. I sent that tube through the air channel in the drive-thru and found myself thinkin how lucky I am to not work with the public. My text messages with my mother affirmed this. She works with the public, but she doesn’t handle cash, so she counts herself fortunate as well.
The Governor of Indiana laid down some cootie-slowin edicts, and now all Marion County schools are closed until April 5. That’s every school in Indianapolis. I can’t fathom the numbers, cause our township alone is more than fifteen thousand students, and there are at least 7 other townships — I bet more — Indianapolis Public Schools, Center Township the largest… Lots of kids. Lots.
Moo’s response to four weeks off school included a joyful song and dance. However, Sassy’s at a rehearsal where the general consensus was sobbing?
Spring Break is going to suuuuuuuuuuuuck. I surmise the best we can hope for is good weather because nature doesn’t have cooties.
It’s March. March Madness has cooties. In Indiana, basketball is religion, and churches be closed. And I reckon, if one’s literal place of worship has an attendance of 250+ then er, ferreal church also be closed.
In looking at the data and listening to the informed people, I presume I will get sick and get well. I’m an optimistic person, but cooties love me anyway.
As with impending snow forecasts intended to frighten me, I don’t feel panicked. But someone out there has our share of the toilet paper. We are a family of four with only seven rolls of toilet paper and we are concerned.
It’s been A MONTH. One might would think somethin drastic happened to keep me away from blogland for a month, but umm, no. Lots of things have happened, but very little in the drastic category. We’ll start with the unfortunate bits and wrap up with the happiness.
My husband’s Great Aunt Barb passed away. She had been my Aunt Barb for a long, long time. When I was a teen, she was Mean Aunt Barb, cause she took no guff. She was wise, and teenagers don’t care about wisdom. By the time I had babies, her wisdom was a blessing to me. She was part of my village. Aunt Barb had a moral courage, a strength of character that will inspire me for the rest of my life. She practiced random acts of kindness and demonstrated incredible generosity of spirit, of service, to her family, to her church, to all who knew her. What I, and everyone else who loved her cherished, was her love of life. She would have been 80 in August but I tell ya, had you met her, you woulda never thunk it. My memories of Aunt Barb are the best — her food and her laughter. And although it sounds odd, maybe even gauche, I had a really, really good time at her celebration of life service.
I made a terrible mistake at work and thought I would have to walk away with graceful shame. Mentor comforted me by saying I am reliable and conscientious. Yes, I am. Tis true. Which is why I’ll prolly only mentally torture myself with my mistake for weeks and then in slightly smaller increments for the rest of my life, but hey, they didn’t tell me to take my yogurt and get the fuck out, so that’s nice.
I saw the die doctor which is a bit of a toss-up, because I absolutely hate every single part of the exam, but I cannot deny that I like Nice Lady Eye Doctor, and have for 14 years. Also, everyone there said only flattering and kindly things to me. I should go as often as insurance allows, because I left feeling marvelous. Drawbacks being I am so old and pale and light-eyed, I now have to take two extra vitamins for my eyes. My SMTWTFS pill box thingy is pretty well crammed, and if I am prescribed anything bigger than a baby aspirin moving forward, I will have to upsize my organizer. However, my night driving may improve and maybe I won’t even develop macular degeneration. Also, it’s exciting to get new specs, but I hate how I get all excited and pay a lot of money and don’t get to wear them for weeks because they have to be forged by faeries or whatever.
Another toss-up — Receptionist left. We had her for a whole year. She’s bright and capable and if you’ve ever been dependent on someone bright and capable, you surely understand my loss. A replacement is not possible, but hopefully someone competent will come along and do the job. She came by the office before she left town, brought her Fluffs cat, the one I enjoy seeing photos of. He weighs more than 15 lbs and most of it must be fluff. Holding him was like holding a living stuffed animal. He hung out in my office for a while, just being cute and fluffy.
Then later, Receptionist and her fella came to our home and took all the boxes we had (since 2013) and ended up visiting for hours. I wish them all the best with their move, but I’ll miss her.
The girls are learning to drive. I spend a lot of time in the passenger seat of my car. (This is my job. Agreed to early in our marriage. Everyone likes it this way.) In case you didn’t know, I’ll tell you what the girls have discovered — brace yourselves — 1. driving a car is harder than it looks 2. everyone is in too much of a hurry 3. people be crazy I know. I was as surprised as you are.
I got highlights. Bright sunshine-y highlights. I dunno how much silver and white hair it will take to light up my face, but I ain’t there yet. I don’t have a picture for you. Only for my husband and my mother.
Swimming is over. Now the musical.
The boy and my big nephew came for a visit. They’re men now. So weird. You know what occurred to me today? My kindergartners are old enough to have kindergartners of their own. Whoa.
March is awesome so far. I mean, I had the best week, despite bad bits — no one gets to live without bad bits. I EVEN HAD A NICE TUESDAY. The Mister is also having a good start to the month. We think it may be all the daylight. We don’t know. We don’t care. It’s just good. On Thursday he stopped by my work on the way home, helped me with a thing, and when I went to get him, the sky was sprinkling and lookin like this:
I said Oh How Unusual. Then I walked a bit and looked across the street and the sky was doin this:
No filter. Seriously, that’s what it was doin. The Mister was right there with me. Those are birch trees, all lit up from the sunset. With a rainbow. Isn’t that nifty?
I feel a twinge of guilt posting before I’ve read y’all, but I’ve had a week and it’s time to turn the page!
After seven years, I know what keeps my readers coming back. Smiles and laughter — and a bit of the bizarre, non?
Let’s start with obvious humor, my morning hair.
Mentor has nice thick smooth lie-down hair like a shampoo model, so I’m always trying to explain to her THE WRANGLING. I think this photo helps.
You know who else has nice thick smooth lie-down hair like a shampoo model? Moo.
She got it from her daddy, obviously. I mean, he’s bald now, but when he had hairs…
You guys! When I went to work Monday it had become February! February! Wow, I didn’t see that comin!
Monday wasn’t too bad. I got a lot done on Monday. I worked late. I left when I was satisfied. I love to feel accomplished and satisfied.
My Tuesday began with a woman rolling down a car window to publicly shame me. I was in the middle lane and she was behind me, but she wanted to get way up ahead of me so she could catch the green arrow to turn left. I know, because she honked at length. I was the one car too many in her way. I feel that. Happens to us all, yeah? Unfortunately, even if I got right up on the ass of the car in front of me and even if she drove a tiny car, there was no way she could get through. So she just had to honk and be mad about it until our light turned green. As punishment for this crime of safety I committed, she cruised alongside me and her passenger leaned out to shout at me in passing, “SHAME ON YOUUU, WHITE BIIIIIIITCH!” I know I’m a bitch, a white bitch at that, but alas I do not feel shame. Aye, it was a Tuesday.
It was a wet and dark morning, one that never lightened up. Tuesday was made of gloom and funk. Wednesday, the gloom lingered, and the snow and ice began. The sleeting.
Our family had a bit of “Who’s on first?” comedy.
For the love of puppies! That’s my line, and he used it ever so cleverly! Ahaha! Oh the LOLZ!
I’m making bruschetta tonight. I’m hyped!
This weekend I have plenty of time to enjoy my pajamas and read blogs. Let’s knock this Friday out!
Rather than sit on the hard, concrete hard bleachers and spectate at swim, I’ve been timing swimmers. The Mister has done this for a long time, but I only started a few months ago. You must understand: giving me a small electronic device with buttons and numbers isn’t advised. I don’t know if you understand. I’m pretty sure Bubba’s the only one who can truly understand my horror, because more than anyone, Bubba has had to assist me with small electronic devices and their buttons, let alone numbers.
I wasn’t timing before because I was sure I would muck it up. Then one day one of the Swim Moms who isn’t my husband emailed about the need for timers. She wrote, “Don’t be afraid, you can do it, we can show you how!” So I bravely responded with “I am afraid, but I will do it.”
That’s why a man gave me a small electronic device with buttons and numbers and said Blar push, blar blah, yadda-yadda reset, blar. Everyone nodded and I immediately asked The Mister, “What?” My husband began explaining to me and it sounded very mansplain-y, so I nodded to him, too. Then I casually walked over to a group of mommies and asked, “Can you show me how to work the buttons?” and a mommy showed me, and it was easy, and I didn’t muck it up.
HOWEVER, some of the stopwatches are jacked. All the lil round black ones seem to be troubled.
So, the other night, when I went to the meet, I was delighted to see I had been given a square red stopwatch with my clipboard. We timed the first 10 or so events and then during diving, The Mister and I stepped away briefly. When we returned, he stopped to talk to someone while I proceeded to my seat WHERE ANOTHER MOM SAT.
She was sitting in my seat, holding my clipboard and my pencil. I had no idea what to say. These are not technically my belongings, but are loaned to me for a short spell. We all get what we get. It’s not assigned or anything. Pick a lane and commit for a few hours. I couldn’t imagine why she’d want my spot. Not wanting to seem territorial or anything, I said, “Hi!” in my upbeat way. This seemed to startle her and she said Hi, but warily. I sat down beside her. I sat there with her stupid round black stopwatch, her clipboard, and her pencil, and I wondered if my husband would time with her and I would time with her husband or if either husband would attempt a correction. I don’t know the last time I felt so awkward and bewildered, I’m imagining math at a chalkboard.
Diving finished and some time passed before the mom finally shouted, “Oh! This isn’t my seat! I’m sitting in your seat! Now I know why you looked at me crazy! I see this isn’t my handwriting, and this isn’t my sheet!” We had a good laugh and we switched back. And don’t you know I was happy to have the square red stopwatch again?
Here’s a funny, awkward, bewildering video, it’s worth the click, ferreal:
Happy Friday Everyone! May your weekend lack awkwardness and bewilderment and may you share many good laughs.
I guess Just Jot It January is Busy today. I’m busy! Yay! (well it’s not good business to have nothing to do, now is it?) Besides, I’d rather be overwhelmed than idle. I’m not good at idle. You ever had a boring job? Like mind-numbingly dull? I.can’t.do.it.
Today I left early, having to collect babies. I had already secured my peaceful evening by asking The Mister, “Can it be egg sammich night?” around 3:30. I am so clever, because he loves egg sammiches.
Tomorrow I shall fetch takeout. Unless he wants to make pancakes. Prolly takeout.
I’m about to experience a busyness reduction because swim season is wrappin up. I’m pretty sure only one kid is doing spring fings, but either way, less demanding than swim. Shout out to The Mister for all those early practice drop-offs while I snooze on. We tease him all the time about what a great Swim Mom he is, but damn, we appreciate him.
I jotted! I’d insert my JusJoJan badge, but I only have last year’s. Can you believe I used to do JusJoJan every year? HOW did I do that? Did I get up earlier? Maybe it’s because I wasn’t a good sleeper then. I’m a much better sleeper now. Look at that, it’s almost nine and I’m tired. In the words of Moo, “It’s naptime.”
We bank online. Our only brick and mortar branch is in San Antonio and we can’t make it to Texas every time we wanna bank, so we bank online and through an app on The Mister’s phone. It’s good. I love our bank.
My work uses an actual bank not far from our office. On occasion, I visit that bank to do business. It’s as I remember literal banking. The branch is shiny and spacious. The staff is well-dressed and they smile and make small talk as they efficiently process our transactions. I like it. It’s good.
This week, I ran a banking errand for work and went to a whole nother kinda bank. A credit union, actually. It was a bit of a drive. I was glad to arrive, and decided my way back to work would be better than Google’s lemme-take-you-round-the-block route. But first, banking!
Credit union place has metal detectors within the vestibule. The first door is free. The second door is locked and requires approval from the door god. BEEP! The voice of BEEP spoke to me, saying, “Put the metal in the tray…” or someshit. There was no tray. I set my keys on a ledge. Said ledge was about the size of my husband’s hand. BEEP! The voice spoke again. I took my phone (metal case) out of my pocket and set it on the ledge. BEEP! “Put the metal in the tray…” My coat has metal buttons. I took my coat off and set it on the floor. BEEP! “Put the metal in the tray….” My handbag has metal hardware. BEEP! “Put the metal in the tray…” I set my handbag under the ledge. BEEP! “Put the metal in the tray…” I took my earrings out and put them in my handbag. BEEP! “Put the metal in the tray…” i got copper rivets in my jeans and underwires in my bra and for the love of puppies, how sensitive is this thing! BEEP! “Put the metal in the tray…” BEEP! “Put the metal in the tray…” Finally, not the voice of BEEP, but an actual human voice told me, “Go ahead and come in.”
After some reassembly of my assemblage, I drove back without Google and this should clearly illustrate what it’s like to live in modern times. Rather Dickensian.
I have problems like everyone else. I mean, I don’t have the same problems, like we’re all sharing the problems, although I suppose some of us share some of the same problems, but I’ve got my own unique set of troubles and worries. Much as possible, I don’t focus on that stuff.
Life can change in an instant. We seem to forget that now could be the moment before it changes. Those big memory markers in life, the ones that make you remember the date? They’re out there. You could wake up tomorrow and some shit could go down and then BLAMMO! Memory marker. These are the good ol days.
Sassy and I got pedicures and we were dumb and went in the middle of the afternoon on a Saturday, so we had quite a long wait. Some time passed and the tech told us she would finish up and we’d be next. In came another mother and daughter who were not dumb and had made an appointment. At 1:35 the mom one asked, “Are you on schedule for my 1:30 appointment?” The tech began to answer, but the mom one cut her off, “We have a wedding. We have to be back to the hotel by 3:15.” Sassy and I were none too impressed because 1) rude 2) we were next 3) we didn’t believe they had a wedding because 4) what kind of people get their nails done the day of the wedding? We called bullshit on that. Also, to match her insides, the mom one had been beaten by an ugly stick and then blown-dry on a tilt-a-whirl, no ions, no serum, and I personally feel that even the tidiest, shiniest nails could not distract anyone from that mess. Sorry, I don’t usually do catty, but this sort of entitlement never brings out the best in me. You don’t see me takin my mornin hair out, makin demands, scarin people. I clutched my bottle of Cajun Shrimp, ready to walk out. Fortunately, the tech seated us all at the same time and we were out before them, because it’s hard work to make pretty the feet of those who walk all over others. Tsk.
At the bookstore, I lost my husband. I could not believe how many bald men in black coats were in there. I mean, you would have thought there was a convention! I finally plopped down in a chair to read and soon enough he plopped down beside me. You can bet I’m easy to find in my orange coat.
I bought a shiny new book. I almost never do that and I’ve done it twice this month. Remember when you were a kid and you actually laughed out loud at the comics? This:
Surely you have seen a few of these online, but to have a whole book of them? I cackled and snorted and hooted, I laughed so hard I cried and my sides hurt when I was done.
Because Laura, we installed the Cozi app on our phones. You maybe should try it. Share your grocery list and calendar with parties of your choosing. Genius. I recommended it to Mentor, who subsequently tried a few of the recipes from the app, none of which were good. Highly recommend app, do not recommend the recipes. Thank you, Laura, for making mom life a little bit easier.
Sassy’s addition to the list:
I bought so many sweets, I felt self-conscious at the checkout.
The weather certainly makes me want to cook soups and hibernate. Teens and not much snow, but it seems always to be wet and the wind is rippin!
I have to leave my family today. I can has good day anyway? I hope my work day goes by quickly and smoothly. If you’re at your leisure today, I hope your day ticks by slowly and happily.
My morning began by discovering Diva Furnace failure. Happens every year. I went to work, “Mentor, what happens at my house every winter?” and she knew. She didn’t have to guess twice or anything. Diva Furnace has been meeting temps since I saw the panic-inducing 64 and with any luck, a new filter will suffice.
Sassy has a cold. She just got over one cold and now she has a new cold. Stupid Tuesday.
On my way to work, I saw a vehicle on fire. Fire!!! The fire was twice the height of the vehicle. I said aloud to Vivaldi’s Winter, “Lordamercy it sure is a Tuesday.” Of course, along with vehicle fires, there are firefighters, and I’d be lying if I said they didn’t cheer me some.
The phones rang mad today. We dunno. Everyone called, like their phones didn’t work until Epiphany passed and then they all called at once.
A man I am not married to wronged me today, but then he apologized. Small miracles. I made sure to tell my husband how the other man’s apology impacted me, just in case he was listening.
I fueled Blanche, but the thingy clicked before she was filled. I had thought fuel prices were extraordinarily low, but once I got back in and turned her on, I saw. Not full. So Tuesday.
Took Moo back to the orthopedist today. She was released from care and will continue with PT. While I was using the restroom, they took her back to the exam room, and when I returned, they seemed to have lost my daughter, but then, like, they found her. That could be a whole nother blog, but not today.
I worked late to make up my time, and also because once the phones are off, a bitch can get shit done. I text The Mister:
How sweet is that?!? Isn’t that the sweetest?!
Came home to goat cheese pizza, lovingly baked by my daughters.
All’s well that ends well, but that sure was a Tuesday!