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feel like crap
May 16, 2011
Woke up feeling like a steaming pile this morning, and lay in bed arguing the merits of getting up when the alarm went off versus calling in sick.
Weighed the following: Boss and Boss's boss both out today, important conference call at 11:00, timecards that INCLUDE today have to be finalized by 9:00 am TODAY, if you work half a day or more, they can't call it an absence...
I went in. And left at 11:00, missing the call after all (with my AVP's permission). Went to bed, read for 15 minutes, and slept for four hours.
Not that I HAD wanted to go home--Spouse is between semesters at the moment, and when he does start back up, he will have nothing but daytime classes. So I will have zero ME time for the entire summer session. yay.
I lost a couple more pounds this week, but I can see that will come to a crashing halt if he's home every night. I can barely hold on during the week, and the weekends are just up for grabs. With him home every night, he will be expecting me to cook, he will be cooking, and it will all be just shot to hello operator, because he only likes to eat the foods that I need to avoid at all costs.
Got all the social obligation stuff discharged over the weekend. W didn't end up leaving until Thursday evening. I found this out when I showed up after work on Thursday to let the dogs out nad feed them--and she was still home. No call, no message. Ended up staying and helping her move several large, awkward pieces of furniture to basement and to curb, as a load of stuff was on the way from T's mom's place. and W needed to make room.
And then? They actually came home late Friday evening. Naturally, they didn't inform me that this was going to happen; just sent me an email once they were home--at 11:15 on Friday. Which, of course, I didn't read until AFTER I got up at 5:30, drove over to see to the dogs, saw they had returned, and came home.
Sigh. It's really hard being friends with the socially awkward. Yes, it's true that 11:15 would have been too late to call. But--presumably, you knew you were coming home at some point prior to finding yourselves in your driveway? Right? Weren't just magically transported there with no warning, in the wink of an eye?
Look. I know they kind of try, in their own hopelessly inept. But damn. I expected, then, that they would call when they got up. Waited till noon, & called them. Kind of expected, in the course of the conversation, to be thanked for taking care of the dogs (2 weekends in a row), helping move furniture, and looking up & printing out the electronics recycling center information they couldn't be arsed to google for themselves, so they could get rid of their old monitors.
Now, why I expected that, I can't say. It certainly wasn't based on the experiences of the last 21 years or so. Call me a cockeyed optimist, I guess.
Like I said. It's really hard being friends with the socially awkward.
Also got the swing choir concert and the pancake breakfast out of the way. I don't want to sound like a sourpuss, when it comes to the kids. I love to see them and support their activities. But I really wasn't in the mood for either of those events this weekend. Spouse bitches and whines about the choir concerts, which is part of why I dread them. And the pancake breakfast is kind of dull and a long way to go for it, too. But it all got done, and I even had pictures to put up on FB for them.
Spouse attempted his boeuf bourguignon yesterday. I say attempted, because who tries a recipe for the very first time and immediately starts monkeying with it? It was okay. JUST okay. I can't help but wonder if it would have been a bit better, had he used as many onions as the recipe called for, and remembered all of the ingredients. And I don't care what Bourdain says, I believe that better wine makes better food. The cheap & nasty Gallo Hearty Burgundy was not as good as a decent Pinot Noir would have been.
I almost wish it would have been less than okay. I ate too much of it--and too much of the French bread we had with it, as well. When you cook things that smell like good food for hours on end, it is utter hell for weight control. By the time it was ready to eat, I was insane with hunger.
His next attempt at "cuisine"? He's making roast chicken a la Thomas Keller tomorrow. With roasted new potatoes. It's a very simple recipe--more of a technique or process than a recipe, really. Let's hope he gets it right, and doesn't screw up the very expensive, antibiotic and hormone-free, no water added, air-chilled chicken I bought the other day. I'm looking forward to trying that, and I want it cooked decently.
As for supper tonight, I had a spell of just eating what appealed to me--I think I was craving what would get my bowels back in order. Most of what was wrong with me all day was the feeling that I had a huge, jagged hunk of concrete wedged in my transverse colon. And that was quite painful. So I had the bland (some boiled potatoes with butter, and the bran (a big double bowl of raisin bran cereal with two cups of whole milk). And as much as I would like to believe that it was the bran that did the trick, I know my body better than that. It was the dairy. When I'm constipated, and all else fails, I fall back on my lactose intolerance to loosen things up and save the day.
Okay, done with crabby, bitchy venting. Time for bed--again.
Reading:Hobby--"In the Onyx Lobby" (1920), by Carolyn Wells.
Also reading: "The Mystery Of The Boule Cabinet: A Detective Story" (1911), by Burton Egbert Stevenson"
Haven't made much headway, really. Don't even feel like reading.
Listening: Dire Straits, Modern Lovers, Decemberists, Seal
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