windows: washed

August 13th, 2018

This month marks four years in my apartment. (Yay!) Over the weekend, a new milestone: I washed the windows.

Yes, it took me four years. (I’m pretty sure I washed the insides of all of them back in year 1, but, uh, not the outsides? And one of them is an end window, which I don’t even know how I would get at the outside, but the others face the balcony, so there’s not really any good excuse there.)

Bright side: when you haven’t cleaned your windows for four years, it is shockingly impressive when you get it done. I feel like a cleaning wizard!

Best apartment window story: the windows have half-screens (the bottom has a screen, the top doesn’t). I had NO IDEA the screens moved up and down until I saw someone in a first floor apartment slide the screen up from the outside and start passing groceries in. THE MORE YOU KNOW!


August 12th, 2018

I think it’s so interesting that we’ve culturally shifted from “YOLO” to “living your best life.” (Which we don’t call LYBL, because I guess that would be weird.)

I mean, I like living your best life better? So I’m super good with the change. And I am not a cultural anthropologist, or whoever studies such things, so I have no idea what it means.

(Note: Did “you do you” come before YOLO? After? I don’t know, I can’t keep up with these things.)


August 11th, 2018

Weekends are sometimes harder than I think they should be. I look forward to them all week, and when they arrive, there’s all this pressure. There are so many things I *could* do, and when the day starts with me thinking of a million possibilities, it’s bound to not wind up including most of those.

Usually the biggest divide is between me wanting to get a ton of stuff done versus me wanting to sleep a lot. Both are so tempting!

This weekend I’m trying breaking up the day into smaller pieces. (Because maybe it’s the ‘I have the *whole day* to figure out what to do’ thing that’s being a roadblock right now.) So I’m planning chores till 10:30, then either eat and then nap, or nap and then eat.

We’ll see how it goes!

it’s a mystery

August 10th, 2018

Me, while driving, squinting at the road: Are my glasses smudgy? Is my windshield dirty? Is it hazy? Is it foggy? IS IT CREEPING EXISTENTIAL DREAD AND FEAR OF THE FUTURE MAKING ME UNCOMFORTABLE WITH LOOKING TOO CLOSELY AT WHAT LIES AHEAD?

Me, once I get to work, looking at my glasses: Huh. Yeah, those are really smudgy.

I don’t think that word means what you think it means

August 9th, 2018

*Got the August coupon push on my grocery app, and there’s a coupon for Annie’s mac & cheese! Oh happy day! (Also my local grocery store is now carrying the Parmesan Peace Pasta, so really, a victory all around.)

*And I got the notification of new coupons while I was at work, so of course I checked right away, and then I had to explain why I was so excited.

*This led to a somewhat hilarious discussion with one coworker, who told me that she thinks of homemade mac and cheese as one of her “quick and easy” meals. Once I figured out she meant “from scratch,” rather than “I made it from the box and didn’t just eat the Panera At Home pre-made version,” I tried in the most tactful and friendly way to explain that we perhaps had different thresholds for “quick and easy.”

*Finally I said that my “quick and easy” dinner is potato chips. From the bag. (Seriously, I’ve been eating food ALL DAY by the time dinner comes. I really need to prepare and eat MORE FOOD?)

*I sort of thought she got it at that point, so I made a joke about not needing to wash any dishes.

*And she said she COMPLETELY UNDERSTOOD! Why, just the night before, she’d told her husband she didn’t want to wash any dishes, so he cooked burgers on the grill!

*It’s like we were both talking to each other, but not having the same conversation at all.

thanks, I guess

August 8th, 2018

Back in elementary school, my class learned a song called Fifty Nifty United States, which to this day has left me with the ability to list all the states in alphabetical order. (Always nice to have a random useless skill; you never know when you might need to share it at work for an icebreaker or trivia game.)

But it got me thinking, because some people are amazing at remembering every song they ever learned, and my brain is somewhat more haphazard about the whole thing. I remember learning a LOT of verses of Yankee Doodle (also in elementary school), although I tried yesterday to piece together the chorus and couldn’t quite manage it.

There’s a few scattered lines of ‘We’re Off to See the Wizard’ (5th grade play) rattling around, along with bits and pieces of ‘Hanukkah Oh Hanukkah’ (4th grade? chorus?), and a very strong sense memory of holding and looking at mimeographed lyrics. (purple!)

Why those, though? What makes some things stick and some things not? My brain is a mystery to me.

workaday Tuesday

August 7th, 2018

How my anxiety management techniques convinced my coworkers I have healthy habits: an accidental essay by me.

On an easy day, my morning commute takes 32 minutes. And from a workplace perspective, if I was a few minutes late, it would not be a big deal.

But it would be a big deal to me, because time stress is pretty much right up there in my top five things that freak me out. So I have Strategies (TM):

*My “planned leave the apartment” time on work days is a full hour before I’m supposed to clock in at work. If I realize at the last second I never brushed my teeth, or need to hug the cat again, or whatever it may be, I generally figure about a ten minute buffer. If I get out to the car early, I might take a meander around the parking lot. Or not, it’s cool.

*My commute is mostly major highway driving, so a single accident can easily add ten minutes. It makes me nervous, so knowing I have an extra ten minutes to burn keeps me from freaking out. Sometimes it means I stop for gas on the way to work without having to adjust my leave-the-house time. A victory!

*Usually I still wind up getting to work about twenty minutes early. And I’m hourly, so while I can (knock on wood) get away with clocking in ten minutes early, twenty would raise some eyebrows unless I was leaving early at the end of the day. So I take a ten minute walk. (Or sit in the car and do a sing-along, if it’s raining.)

And now my coworkers think I love fitness. Oops?

I remember now

August 6th, 2018

August is the March of summer. I always like it much more when I’m anticipating its arrival than when I’m actually experiencing it.

How I Imagine August:
*long, lush, summer days
*cool nights & popsicles

Actually August:
*too hot
*plant guilt
*everyone is cranky

gettin’ it done

August 5th, 2018

Big plans this week: after many years of saying ‘I should probably have a passport,’ I will finally be completing the application process this week. (It feels a bit like school picture day, to be honest.)

Things that are more fun to think about than my ever-present anxiety about the future:

*what shall I wear when I have my passport picture taken?

*should I cut my hair again?

*I checked my license picture for reference, and what in the world was happening that day, because my hair was doing A Thing I Cannot Describe, and I guess at least that means the bar has been set extremely low?

caturday, best day

August 4th, 2018

Let’s talk about Fridays. My workplace does a thing where you can fiddle around with your schedule in the summer to take Friday afternoons off. I have mixed feelings about it, but it is what it is. I don’t do it, because I *really* don’t want to be at work for an extra hour the first four days of the week (aka the hard days), just to take off one afternoon on the fifth day (aka the easy day). But a lot of people do!

A short list of things that happen when all the salaried employees go home early, and it’s just the hourly employees left:

*Mostly we make a lot of jokes about work.

*We tell everyone who wasn’t there how great it is to be able to “really focus and get things done when it’s quiet.” Which is probably true, but I’m pretty sure most people are doing what I’m doing, which is slacking off.

*There’s no one left to answer the front door, so I really hope that pest control guy I let in wasn’t actually a corporate spy, or something.