It's still hot here. And I'm tired. And apparently all the ragweed doin' the nasty is what has started my hives back up. (This week was the worst week for them I've had in a long time).
So, here goes:
* I had a phone message when I got home yesterday afternoon. I admit, I hold out a tiny, Charlie-Brown-at-the-mailbox-on-Valentine's-Day shred of hope that maybe it will be a call from (a) a long-lost friend, (b) a call having to do with some kind of good news in re: my career, or (c) some kind of wonderful opportunity (that is not a scam).
Nope. This time it was some law firm looking for the former resident's son. Yet again. I admit, I listened to some of the message in direct contravention of the "If you are not Stephen Cox, stop listening now."
They said they are going to file a lawsuit. I don't know why, I don't care why. Something in me snapped at that moment and I said, to the empty air, "Oh no they won't. And if they try to sue this phone number on the basis that the person in question may have at one time lived in this house, and if I get ANY harassment, I will countersue them and will WIN and will OWN THEIR BUTTS and will have A LOT OF MONEY and then I will RETIRE and will REFUSE TO DO ANY OF THE SCUT WORK I CURRENTLY DO."
Of course, none of that will happen. If in some bizarre situation they do try to sue the current occupant of the house that may or may not once have housed the individual they actually claim they want to sue, I'll get my friend the local DA to either write a cease-and-desist letter herself, or recommend an attorney who will.
But still, it's a nice fantasy: revenge against the annoyance, plus the idea of paid idleness. (Though I suppose idleness would be wearying after a week or so)
* Stonewall Farms, in their most recent ad to me, have declared today to be "National Cheese Pizza Day." Uh-huh. If I want pizza, I have to make it myself these days. (And it's really too hot, and I'm too busy, to be messing with that tonight. I guess I'll eat another bowl of the sweet potato soup - which is not as good as the corn soup by the same company - and, I don't know, some beets or something.) Even English muffin pizza is an impossibility - have you LOOKED at the sodium content of a typical English muffin? amazing.
The thing I miss most about the low sodium diet is not any particular food (though popcorn with real butter and enough real salt comes close), it's losing the ability to just go get a pizza/Chinese food/carry out tacos when I'm tired, don't want to cook, and busy. It's the convenience I miss more than any particular food.
And yes, a salad can be convenient, but when you really want a pizza, it's not a good substitute.
* A research student of mine e-mailed me with less than 24 hours notice informing me we need to meet today. My general rule is I need 24 hours notice of stuff so I can juggle my schedule. I'm not sure the most tactful way to tell her, "You know, in the future? E-mailing me at 5:30 pm to ask me for a meeting on the next day just really isn't good form."
I had already left for the day; I had an AAUW meeting at 6:30 and I kind of needed time to heat up my beets and my sweet potato soup....
* I've been having bad dreams. I don't know if it's the heat and humidity (even with airconditioning, my house is never as cool as I would like it to be) or all the dang meds I am on, or what. Lots of them revolving around the death of someone I care about, in most cases that death being something that has already happened in the real world. (Why, brain? Why make me relive that?) Several of the medications I'm on list "vivid or disturbing dreams" as a side effect and so I don't know if it's them or if it's something else or if it's the placebo effect of me being told "this might happen" and my now experiencing it. But I don't appreciate it one bit.
*It's mostly just the juggling of stuff: getting the teaching stuff prepped. Getting the grading done. Making time to work on research. Remembering I have to do the Sunday School lesson (I will be so glad when my co-teacher is back on her feet; I don't mind filling in for her while she's ill but doing this every week is getting to be a lot). Trying to figure out when I will do laundry this week. And I'm sure there's something I'm forgetting.
1 comment:
everyone I know is either having bad dreams, insomnia, or panic attacks at o'dark thirty. So perhaps it is the general malaise?
This is not to make your bad dreams trivial. But more of a "we are all in this together" feeling.
I have informed my friends that if our panic attacks/insomnia/nitemares coincide we should have them go out for drinks. But another pointed out (correctly) that they tend to happen when the bars close, so perhaps they are coming back from a bender after all.
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