A few weeks ago, on a Thursday, Joel and I both had a very good day.
Helloooo, blog land! And by that I mean, helloooo Mom (thanks for reading!). I had planned to do Blog-Tober, where I post every day. Then I was all “well, I’ll do Blog-Vember, since I missed Blog-Tober.” And then, I did nothing. Continue reading “Catchup.com – uh, November?”
Yesterday at work, I ran into a doctor (who, for the record, is probably my age) in our comms room, who was scratching his head, trying to figure out how to use a binding machine.
A Binding Machine. Continue reading “Binding Greatness”
Last September — no, it goes farther back than that.
Back in October 2015, I got a slightly better paying job, which meant I finally had the extra scratch to re-do our bed linens: new sheets, new pillows, new mattress pad, new duvet cover, and it was basically the best day of my life. Continue reading “My bed, my choice”
I’ve been dying for a rainy day during my time off. Why? Because there are few things better than waking up to a torrential downpour and feeling that warm, slow, smug realisation of “Hey – I don’t have to go anywhere or do shit today.” Continue reading “Affirmations”
As of today, it’s been 11 day since I’ve worn real pants or a bra. Shewwwww, to say it’s been awesome would be the understatement of the decade. Continue reading “Elastic waist bands: my time off”
Joel went to an arcade a few days ago and won me a prize that might be the best thing he’s ever brought home – DIG YOUR OWN DINOSAUR FOSSIL! Continue reading “I am Alan Grant”
1 – After another night of broiling temps waking us up every few hours, and walking into work looking like I’d run a marathon (how does it get so sweaty at 8AM?!) I walked out of the office today and I had to put my cardigan back on. And now I’m wearing sweat pants. AND long sleeves. I am content. Continue reading “Hodge Podge – Wednesday”
I got to work a little before 7:30 this morning so I could finish putting together a training manual. I thought it would be an easy day, since the day before was so hectic. But I was swarmed from the moment I stepped through the door. It was shaping up to be one of those maddeningly busy mornings at work, where every time I turn around someone was asking me to do something, or the phone was ringing, or there was another crisis to attend to.
It was one of those days where you blink and 3 hours pass.
I blinked again and 3 more hours had passed. And suddenly I was all “wow I’ve had 2 coffees and if I don’t pee right now I’ll probably die.” So I got up to go to the bathroom. I walked down the hall and through the atrium that separates the bathroom from the rest of the floor without noticing anything, totally on autopilot. It was when I was leaving the bathroom that I saw the little guy on the ground.
He was a little lizard, laid out on the tile between the two doors of the atrium. He was almost the same greenish brown colour as the tiles, so I wasn’t surprised that I didn’t see him on my way in. I was surprised that he wasn’t moving at all, in my experience lizards are either skittish, or dead. And this one wasn’t moving when I got near him, or when I opened or closed the doors. So I assumed he was dead. Poor guy.
I walked out of the bathroom and told some of my coworkers that I found a dead lizard in the bathroom. I’m not sure why, maybe they would want to see it? It was pretty weird thing to find in the bathroom, considering how far away our second level bathroom is from the outside world. And it was such a busy day, and I was on such autopilot that seeing a lizard in the bathroom basically stopped my brain in its tracks. They asked if he looked stomped on. Fortunately, he looked like he died of natural causes.
I went back to clean up the lizard and give him a burial. The idea of flushing him crossed my mind, but then I realised a) he might get clogged, and b) flushing an animal is pretty fucked up. I opened the door to the atrium, and he once again didn’t move. I decided to gather him in some paper towels and put him outside – circle of life and all. As I got closer to him, I decided to check for one more sign of life. I stomped my foot near him – and there! His head moved slightly to the right. LIFE, HE IS ALIVE!
I got so excited that I ran out of the atrium looking for something to corral him with. I found a little takeaway container with a lid in our staff kitchen and ran back to the bathroom. He was still lying there, but when I gently shoo’d him into the container, he made almost no objection. It’s like he knew I wanted to help. Or he was just too freaked out to put up a fight. He crawled into the tub and I put the lid on without sealing it so he wouldn’t be able to jump out. I showed him around, named him Blinky, and then took him outside.
I made sure to look him in the eye, and then I wished him well and let him go in the grassy/mulchy landscaped bits in front of our building. He quickly crawled under some mulch, and disappeared.
I don’t know why, but finding and freeing that lizard was absolutely the high light of my day. It was exciting and awesome, and I felt like I had done something good for the world. And I couldn’t stop thinking – how the fuck did it get in here?
I imagined him crawling up all the steps and in a moment of perfect timing, making it through both sets of automatic doors. Or what if one of the kids found him on the way in and lost track of him when he saw the toys in the lobby? I thought of him slinking around unnoticed through all the rooms, narrowly avoiding being crushed under foot, hitching a ride on patient’s bags, living off crumbs, and trying with all this might to get back to his world as he became sick and dehydrated and cold. I thought of how something told him to go to the bathroom, like maybe something told him that’s where he would find water. But there, almost on the brink of death, he passed out in the atrium. And then I found him. And I put him back in the outside. And maybe it wasn’t his world? Maybe he still couldn’t find water. Maybe he was eaten by a huntsman.
It was a bit of perspective. Yeah, my day is so busy that I forget to eat lunch or go to the bathroom, but at least I’m not lost in some gigantic, terrifying and frozen world with no food and no water, where 900 ft tall creatures can’t see me and almost stomp me or chase me or otherwise try to kill me, where one of those giant creatures in a big yellow dress traps me in a plastic box and squeals to her coworkers that she “caught a lizard!” before releasing me into a world that’s just as scary and huge and different but equally as terrifying. Like seriously. That lizard has seen some shit. My day was cake compared to that.
At least I didn’t step on him.
On Thursday night, the weather promised nothing but thunderstorms from Friday to Sunday. Halloween weekend + thunderstorms + desire to sit in and write? It’s like a perfect storm of Fuck Yeah. And as we walked home from dinner on Friday night in the rain, I was pumped for a weekend of making shit happen.
I don’t know why, but I like, need it to rain. As in, I feel like my emotional welfare depends on whether or not it storms all weekend. Probably because we haven’t had a really good rainy weekend in a long time, and I wanted to watch scary movies while curled up with hot chocolate. I miss the rain. As the deserts do. (and I miss you)
But, as it turned out, my perfect storm was short lived. It was blue sky t-shirt and shorts weather from the time we woke up on Saturday until just a few minutes ago. Blue skies and heat is basically my hibernating weather. So I spent Saturday making 1 sweaty trip to the post office, and then either napping, draining the battery on my phone from looking up memes, and writing a single paragraph before getting distracted by Googling whether or not Farrah Abraham has butt implants #important. I made us greasy hamburgers for dinner, ate too much dessert, and fell asleep around 1 AM, crossing my fingers for a stormy day.
Today, though, was one of those mornings that make you believe you’re a morning person. The sunlight was glorious, there was no humidity, and it was quiet and lovely and inspiring. I sprang out of bed early and made coffee, read in bed for an hour, made breakfast, Skyped with my family, reorganised the closet, did some shopping, made chicken and rice soup for Joel the Unwell, finished the laundry, put together some notes/plans for my stories, and I even vacuumed. I’m telling you, I was inspired.
It’s slow and steady, but I’m crawling out of the hole I’ve dug myself in. And it feels good, man. I’m working my way out of bad, depressive habits, which is huge, and makes me feel really optimistic. There’s a lot to look forward coming up, like Friends-giving, getting my Australian driver’s license, beach weekends, good books, outings and adventures, and The Crown on Netflix and Teen Mom UK, which should satisfy all my trash TV needs (for the time being), and far off into the future, almost 2.5 weeks off for Christmas.
I stood in our bedroom this morning, and the same thought kept running through my head:
If this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is.
I love our place. I love our life. And it feels like everything is getting better.
Happy Sunday, everyone!