Besides, the last time that I had lots of stomach aches (and acid reflux on top of that), the doctors poked and prodded me, took my blood, made me drink nasty things, and dug around in my innards with a scope, and after all that, all they could tell me was, “everything looks fine, but uh, maybe drink less coffee?” (which: ha!). So I don’t know why I should go back now. Especially since today, my stomach doesn’t hurt quite as bad. On the other hand, now I have nausea to go with it. It will be interesting to see where this goes. I’ll keep you posted.
Monday, December 17, 2007
Thursday, December 13, 2007
I just opened up my granola bar package for my mid-morning snack, and of the two bars, one was much smaller than it should have been. Also, it was pie-shaped. And the other bar tasted kind of funny. I ate it anyway (the regular sized one, not the small one). I was hungry.
I should have known that this was just going to be a day of bizarre-o-ness. My morning commute was very foggy. The visibility on the road wasn’t bad–you could see a good 15 car lengths in front of you–but everything on either side of the road was completely hidden by the fog. And above the road was foggy, too. So it was like being in a tunnel of fog. It was strange and creepy, in a fun kind of way. I really enjoyed it. But it was strange.
And speaking of strange, I was running almost an hour late this morning because I slept right through my alarm. That’s not strange at all, but the reason I was so tired was because of strange events last night. Well, maybe not strange. Maybe “unwelcome” is a better word choice.
As Sherlock Holmes (and the narrator of Pushing Daisies) would say, the facts are these: last night I was in my room, trying to figure out what to wear to work the next day and talking to RR. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the wall, and slowly, my brain started to let me know that, hey, there’s . . . a . . . something. There. On the wall. Or, you know, in the wall. When my brain finally got through to me, I stopped mid-sentence and just stared. RR followed my gaze. And we just stood there for a good five second, looking at the bubble in the paint.
It was at least four inches across and quite, quite tall.
“Hmm,” we said. “That’s not . . . that’s not right, is it?” we said.
We got a little closer and just looked at it. We hesitated to touch it, because it could be anything in there, but I did. It was squishy. Yep, we concluded, it’s full of water.
Oh, I should mention that it’s been raining quite a bit lately.
Right. Ok. So bubble of water in the wall. And under the paint, we could see a trail of smaller bubbles leading up to the big ‘un. We’re slow but not stupid. We followed the trail up to the ceiling.
“Oh, dear,” we said.
The ceiling, she was saggy. Saggy and soggy. It looked like that’s where the water had come from, but to confirm, I got on a step stool and poked at the ceiling. Yep. Damp.
So here was our strategy. We got a straight pin and a towel. We, um, for lack of a better word, lanced (ew) the big bubble, and sure enough, a LOT of water came out onto the towel that we’d suspected we’d need. And then we poked at the ceiling, but no water there (probably because it had all pooled into the bubble). So then I stood on the step stool with a hair dryer and dried my ceiling and the wall as best I could. And then while RR emailed the property management company and our landlord, I ran around and cleaned, because now the landlord might be coming by, and we really don’t want him to think that we’re slobs. That took a bit longer than I would have liked it to.
So then I went to bed. I thought about sleeping in another room, but then I didn’t. But poor rr, she was so worried about the ceiling caving in on me that she came in several times, in the middle of the night, with a straight pin taped on a stick, to poke at the ceiling and make sure that it was ok. I did wake up for that. I just cannot describe to you what it feels like to wake up from a deep sleep to see someone clad in plaid flannel pajamas with ruffles on them poking at your ceiling with a stick. It’s odd. But very sweet!! I think I should have slept in another room and spared her the worry.
Anyway, didn’t get a lot of sleep last night. And I didn’t get a lot of sleep the night before either because just when I’d been drifting off to sleep, something buzzed my ear, so of course I shot out of bed, did the “is it on me?” dance for a minute, then examined every inch of my room to figure out what did the fly-by. That took a while. Then I went to drag rr out of bed to help me, but she was dead to the world, and she’d been up all night the night before, and I just couldn’t bring myself to wake her up. So I just gave up and went back to bed. But it took me a while to get to sleep after that.
I feel fine, though. Assuming that granola bar was ok, I should be good to go the rest of the day, provided the coffee doesn’t run out.
Oh! And that remind me. Ok, I have definitely concluded that either (a) someone is trying to burn down the building or (b) someone is messing with me. Yesterday, I went into the break room, and to see EMPTY COFFEE POT SITTING ON THE BURNER STARING AT ME. This has to be personal. It just can't be an accident anymore. I immediately charged into the office directly across from the break room to try to find a witness, but neither the resident of that office nor the coworker talking with him had seen anything. Or so they said. I have my eye on them.
I truly do not understand. Why on earth would you put a bone-dry glass container on a burner and turn it on, and then just walk away? And they couldn’t have been trying to make coffee and just forgot to pour water into the coffee maker because there also weren’t any grounds in the part where you put the coffee. So, seriously, what the heck, y’all? It doesn’t make any sense–unless it’s being done on purpose.
Ok, that is all.
Monday, December 10, 2007
See, recently they’ve really stepped up the monitoring of our innernet use at work, so I’m trying to minimize the time I spend online doing non-work related stuff. And then when I get home, well, things don’t work out for blogging there, either. First, all I do all day at work is read and think about what to write, so when I get home and have to read and think about what to write, I’m kind of burned out and my brain doesn’t cooperate with putting the words together.
Also, starting around Thanksgiving, I developed a cold, or my allergies got really bad, not sure which, but whichever it was, it involved lots and lots of kleenex. So I just kind of sat around once I got home and did nothing but watch t.v. Then rr had a bunch of projects and work all needing to be done at the same time, and that involved the use of the computer.
Then we found out that one of our cats’ cancer had come back, so we had to deal with medicating her, and I spent so much time worrying about it that I just couldn’t face reading about other people’s lives. And this past Tuesday, we found out that in just that week, her cancer had progressed so far that there was really nothing to do but put her out of her misery. And then rr and I came home and ate a bunch of cookies and cried. That took a few days to bounce back from. And this past weekend, I ran around like crazy trying to do all the stuff I haven’t done in a month or two.
So that’s what’s going on with me. But hopefully, soon, I’ll be back around. I hope that you’ve all written interesting stuff so I have something good to read!