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dinner and a bailout
January 19, 2015
Having another one of those periodic episodes where I debate continuing this diary. Asking myself why I bother to make an official record of the tedium that is my life. That is less than half my life, actually, since I pretty much only keep track of the weekends.
Just one of those moments in time when I have to re-convince myself it is worth doing. (The older I get, the smaller the number of things that seem so.)
I'm sure that it is good for me to do it, for therapeutic reasons. But "good for me" has never been reason for me to make something a priority.
And I know that having this record helps me quite often, when my memory fails me and I can't remember when I did something like get my tires replaced or bought a washing machine or ordered a furnace filter.
So I will probably not do anything drastic. But it's just that after nearly eleven years, things start to feel a bit tired. If it wasn't such a monumental task to try and move nearly 1,400 entries, I would give myself a fresh start and a new look. But again...worth the effort? Meh.
So. The weekend.
Friday:
Work in the morning, naturally.
Dying for a really good burger, so I stopped at the grocery store and got the stuff to make myself a cheeseburger for lunch.
No nap this week, much to the B's disgust. We had evening pland, and I knew that if I napped, I was going to have to start all over again with toothbrush, shower, change of clothes, and hairdo. That sounded more exhausting than just skipping the nap. I did do a nice, relaxing guided imagery session, though.
We had "Dinner and a Bailout" with Niece. She's currently post-surgery, mostly unemployed, and facing a money crunch. And on top of that, she ended up with a jacked-up speeding ticket from a notorious speed trap, because her grandma wanted to go look at Christmas lights. So her Godpapa and I did some quick figuring and slipped her three benjies on the DL, so she could make her bills and have something left over to live on. (Little Miss "NO HELP" had a hard time letting us loan her that much money. She's the independant sort. But we insisted.)
Plus we filled up her empty gas tank and took her to dinner. And listened sympathetically to her venting about her douchebag dad and all the other craptacular junk that's weighing her down right now. This part, I feel, was not the least of what she needed. Sometimes that's the most important thing we can do--just be sympathetic and supportive.
After dinner, we ran over to Sam's Club and did some shopping while we continued to visit, and then came back to the house--where she plopped herself down on my bed and kept going with her vent. Poor sweetie really needed it! There has been a rash of unfortunate accidents and suicides among the young people in her little rural community, and it has been weighing on her really bad.
By the time she was ready to head back home at 8:30, I was pretty used up--a long day, and lots of emotional energy expended. So Spouse and I were both ready for bed by 9:00.
On Saturday, Spouse go up first, took care of the dog, and put some cinnamon rolls in the oven. I crawled out, did a bunch of laundry and chores, then sat down with coffee and rolls.
After that, we got cleaned up and ran to Menards, down to the WallyWorld in Zion, then to the grocery store for a few necessities and a good food donation for the Shalom Center. Came home & put stuff away, did some housework, and relaxed in the afternoon, and we had the rest of the baked ziti from New Year's Eve for dinner, with a salad and some excellent garlic bread.
Sunday was similar. I'd had a lousy night, with acid reflux problems and deep, weird, unsettling dreams full of people who, when I am awake, are dead. (Mum, FOB, my mother...) I felt like I'd been beaten with a sack of doorknobs when I rolled out of the covers.
Spouse made a full breakfast, though. Corned beef hash, eggs, and toast for me, along with coffee and OJ. He had the same, but with Spam instead of hash, and tomato instead of orange juice. We had found a frozen hash by the sausages at the grocery store, and since I love it, he picked some up and made it for me. Beautifully, thoroughly crispy, just the way I like it. And it is great quality for a purchased hash. Good stuff! Fortunately, I'd been extremely proactive with the night reflux, and suffered no lasting effects.
We were going to wait till the game was on before venturing out on our errands, but Spouse got impatient, so he got cleaned up, then went out and poo-picked the backyard while I got myself together. The result was that everything was mobbed--oil change, car washes, grocery stores--just a zoo. We got the oil changes, skipped the carwash, picked up a couple of things we'd forgotten the day before, and scurried back home to pick up W&T's Christmas present so we could take it over and install their new wiper blades. They were a little taken aback by such an offbeat gift, but it appealed to W's practical side (and she really needed new ones!), plus there was candy! I got them Ginger-Lemon Haribos, plus Ginger Chews & Citrus gumdrops from TJs, so they were happy. They like unusual candies, and anything with ginger. And I got a text this morning from W to say how much she like her wipers, and thanks again.
After we did that, I was going to check out a new fabric and craft store downtown. Unfortunately, it was closed, because the owner is sick. So we just went home and Spouse napped while I read, then I napped while he made dinner. One of his rare flops--the country-style ribs were undercooked, the baked potatoes were overcooked, and he was in a foul mood because of it. I told him he can't expect to hit one out of the park every time he comes to bat, and even simple things sometimes just refuse to cooperate. I ate my potato (it was chewy, but good) and salad, called it dinner, and no big thing. But he gets extremely upset about such things.
In case you were wondering, we are neither of us football nuts. And we get so tired of all the hype on local TV and the idiot fans all around us that we were both actually rooting for Seattle yesterday. And neither of us even bothered to turn the game on until the very end.
He went in and took a medicated shower after dinner, popped two Benadryl, and went to bed. I watched QI, fiddled about on the laptop, and did more guided imagery relaxation before bed.
I didn't much care for this particular one--it was a little magicky/mystical for my taste. I love GI, because it can be a quick and effective way for me to make myself feel better, but the moment the guide started in about healing white lights and a "presence" whose touch fills me with inner peace--I fall right out of the whole thing and crash to earth.
I have to admit, though--the breathing really helped me fall asleep. I just need to stick to the ones that emphasize pleasant, natural, earthbound visualizations.
In other news, my GSIL had her cancer surgery today, and apparently everything went well. She has a type of hereditary colon cancer, so even though it was barely far enough advanced to register as stage one, they took all but 18 inches of her colon. At least she doesn't have to wear a bag.
Reading:"Concerning Belinda" (1905), by Eleanor Hoyt Brainerd. Cute sketches about a young and pretty Midwestern school teacher who moves to NYC to teach in a girl's boarding school. Possibly these were originally published as magazine stories.
"Madcap" (1913), by George Gibbs. About an heiress from New York with a taste for thrills and adventure (So I'm told--I just started it).
Listening: My Warren Zevon box set--his first five albums. Today it's "The Envoy", from 1982.
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