Argh

Sometime yesterday, I was doing something and I thought that, when I was done, I'd go look up ... X. Of course, not only couldn't I remember what X was, but it's still driving me crazy today.

I've been looking up a lot of stuff lately. Like, I remembered that my grandmother didn't have an electric toaster, she used something she put on a stove burner and made toast that way. There are some very old versions of this for sale on eBay, but they're in pretty bad shape and they don't look quite like Grandma's--although it's been so long, I may not remember exactly what it looked like. But there are modern versions and I may get one, since it's been a long time since I've had a toaster--or, to be precise, had a toaster that I could use. There's a Very Old Toaster Oven up in the closet, but I really have no room for it anywhere in the kitchen and, besides, it's, well, Very Old. Like, from 1971 or so. Old.

I want to get a graduation gift for a dear friend of mine and so I tried browsing through Barnes & Noble's site for journals. There's so many choices! And if I can't see it in person, how do I know how the thing looks/feels?

Okay, I've just remembered something else I wanted to look up. I don't think it was X, but it may be.

Tired

Is it weird to be wanting to take a nap at 9:30 at night?

Yeah, I thought so.

Scary

Okay, it's official--I've started writing again. Although calling it that makes it sound like way more than it is. The other day, I wrote a few lines of free verse. That's definitely not writing. Just now, I opened up an old file and it was a story I'd started back in the 90s. I have no idea where it was going to go, what it was the story was to be about. It's possible that I didn't know then and that's why there were only about two paragraphs to it. I still don't know what it's about or what's going to happen next, but there's about four paragraphs now.

This is scary.

What I haven't been able to do yet is return to my novel. I'm just not ready for that yet. It's become even more difficult now, because it's about an advertising man in the 1980s and Mad Men is such an amazing, complex, show about advertising men in the 1960s...I'd be afraid of comparisons. I suppose if I just write what I know, what I meant to write back when I started it (again, in the 90s) and/or what I'd like to write now (as if I know what that is), it'll turn into something that feels right to me. Or at least something I'd be willing to show other people.

What's even scarier at the moment is that I really don't have any new ideas. And back when I was trying to write (yes, the 90s), I had no shortage of plots and characters and things I wanted to say. Most of which I recognized even then as prosaic and unimaginative and dumb, but they seem even more so now. I feel like such a naive, untalented person, why should I even bother? But that seems a pretty unproductive attitude, plus there's a part of me that feels that now that I've started again, I don't want to stop. Almost that I can't stop. Very nearly that I can't stop.

Lost day #4,382

I feel like a wet dishrag. And I feel guilty that I'm not getting any work done. But I'm so tired, I also sort of don't care that I'm not getting any work done.

I suppose it's because I didn't get enough sleep last night. I got caught up in reading the cover article in the Times magazine and so it was after 2 a.m. when I turned out the light. I got up once, a couple of hours later, for a bathroom break and then I slept until the alarm went off at 7 a.m. I hit the snooze once and almost did so again, but I had to get up so early so I could finish a job that I should have finished over the weekend, but I chose to go to my friend's birthday party at a Cyclones ballgame on Saturday, so I didn't quite get it finished last night. I think I made the right choice, though, it was fun.

So I finished the job this morning, then I did another very short (1.5 minutes long!) job and I've been assigning other work and then I managed to get out before the worst of the heat set in and "ran" a few errands. I got cat treats and a couple of cans of cat food. I bought a MegaMillions ticket. I dropped a Netflix DVD into the mailbox. I walked to down to the bank and deposited a check, drew out a little bit to help with shopping. I bought some strawberries and a peach at the supermarket and then bought a few things at CVS. Then I caught the bus back up the hill.

Now that I write it all out, no wonder I'm exhausted. That was all on crutches, mind you. Anyway, I answered some more emails and got a new document set up so I can transcribe something...and then I laid down for a nap. Two hours later, here I am and I can't get motivated to do much else.

I must be really tired, because the air conditioner, which is on fan only, reads 81 degrees and I don't feel hot at all. I just checked the little clock behind me and it also says 81. There's definitely a benefit to being rather cold-blooded.

Il Postino

Just finished watching this movie again, first time since it came out and I saw it in at the movies. I'd forgotten the ending. It's so sad. Heartbreaking, really. And yet I'm sitting here with a kind of a smile on my face. It's such a wonderful reminder to me to try to be who I want to be and to observe the world around me and to tell people how much I love them and ... and ... and ...

I think I will start writing again. Not because of this movie, no. It's just, I've been moving in this direction for a while and it's time. You know? It's time.

Anyway, this is a movie I think I'd like to own (this was a Netflix DVD). Among so many others. (Honestly, I can't understand why I don't already have CASABLANCA. That's my absolutely favorite movie and I don't have the DVD? Outrageous!)

Well, back to work now. It's an easy job, as it turns out, I'm glad I saved it for myself.

Embarrassed

You know that phrase, "embarrassed to death"? I might somebody be that/do that (whatever). I did manage to ask my neighbor across the hall for help and he seemed very eager to do it, because he's, like, the sweetest guy on the planet, but I just couldn't bring myself to ask for more than one favor. So, yes, the food garbage needs to be taken down and yes, I need milk (and he said he was going to the store, did I need anything?) and yes, I need to get my mail--but that I could do myself. But I will probably do that tomorrow. When I go out myself and get the milk and other groceries and get it delivered.

But it's like my mother and stepfather, who put off getting medical attention when they're (in my stepfather's case, for sure) literally dying. So I realize now that I can't really complain about them, because I find it hard to ask for help, too. Although I do get myself to the doctor when there's clearly something wrong, at least. The dentist, maybe not so much yet, but other things keep taking precedence, even though I know dental health can affect so much else.

Anyway, there you have it. I'm a flawed human being, just like everyone else.

Been a while

It's not that I've conquered my solitaire addiction, really. It's just been tamed a little. Plus, I've been so busy, it's sort of gone by the wayside. Not that I don't still waste too much time with it. More that it's less "too much time" than before.

Lots of things have been happening. My knee is pretty bad and I'm not sure what's going to happen next and I have a lot of anxiety, not to mention anger about it. Mostly because the doctors aren't communicating with me very well. Or at least that's who I'm choosing to focus my anger and blame on. It does no good to be angry at the Universe, right? But I'm beginning to realize that it's okay that my appointment on the 17th is "only" a consultation, because I can make this new doctor tell me everything that I need/want to know about what happened, why it happened, can it happen again? What's these shots I'm going to get and what's the process I'll be going through? Does he really have to lie about my diagnosis to get the medicine? Stuff like that.

I'm hoping that, in the meanwhile, I'm making good choices about how to take care of myself. I think I'm doing better, now that I know that I'm not supposed to be walking a lot (thanks for telling me that the week before I spent a day doing a lot of walking and ending up screaming in pain, docs!). I'm icing, icing, icing and resting--some days I'm better at these things than others, of course, but at least I'm not in enormous pain anymore.

Changing subjects, I'm a bit worried about my mother. I haven't told her about my knee yet and I'm hoping to avoid having to. Good thing she's in Florida. Last I heard, my stepfather had gone into a rehab facility. I wonder how he's doing, too, but mostly in relation to how my mother's doing and how she's handling his being out of the hospital, but not yet home. I also wonder how their finances are holding up.

I kind of like not being there, not being directly responsible for these things, but it's also frustrating. I really hope I never have to take over my mother's care, because I'm afraid I'll really suck at it. It's not like I've got my own finances in particularly good shape.

Looking forward to mah jongg this week. I'll have to take car service home, but I'm okay with that, it's worth it to me. But I really, really need a real vacation this year and, the way things are going, I'm not getting one. But ya never know, I guess. I'm taking this one day at a time and today was a good day. Gorgeous weather and I did get out for a little walk. Just around the corner, bought a banana and a scouring pad for dishes, mailed a Netflix DVD back. Met three different neighbors on the way back and had a nice conversation with them, mostly explaining why I'm on crutches. It reminded me of trying to walk with my mother when I was a child, she could hardly walk a few yards in our neighborhood without stopping to talk to someone.

Okay, that's enough rambling. I need to lie down for a bit, then finish a job and start a new one. Maybe I'll be back soon. Maybe I won't.