While dinking around online a while back, I saw a 30-before-30 list at Making It Lovely. It got me to thinkin’ about how I’ve got a smidge more than a year before I hit the dirty thirty myself, and I set about making this list. Over-achieving? Under-? 1. Begin composting kitchen and outdoor waste. 2. Lose 25 pounds. Again. 3. Stop drinking soda. Again. (I’ve gotten a head start: No soda in two weeks!) 4.…
• Woke up before my alarm went off at 6:30. No snooze buttons were harmed. • Went to the Campbell Clinic way out east to get pictures taken of my bones and let a resident feel me up (just my arm!). The doctor told me these elbow shenanigans amount to classic bursitis, which is a pointless and insulting affliction, in my estimation. That’s right, America, I got injured FROM SITTING ON MY ASS AND LEANING ON…
The elbow thing I referred to earlier? I thought I’d get some photos of how weird it looks in case anyone else had had this happen and wants to pass along any knowledge for me to chew on between now and the day I can actually get in to see an orthopedic doctor (my mom’s suggestion; she doesn’t think, based on my symptoms, that it sounds quite like carpal tunnel, even though that runs in…
Nick, Kristin, and JR came into town for a visit over the weekend. We had drinks at Ernestine & Hazel’s (sadly, there was a private party going on, so we got stuck in the restaurant part and couldn’t go hang around the bathtub upstairs) and then went back to my place for Summer Brew and silliness with some local yokels that left me and some others with weird inexplicable bruises and scrapes and pains the…
I just turned down an invitation to a social gathering because, ahem, “I’m already in my PJs.” Sweet Jesus. I am eighty years old.
• I woke up yesterday with a brand new grey hair. Funny thing is, I can probably pinpoint the exact moment it sprouted Thursday night. • Our office calendars use the Futurama credit-sequence font for the names of the months. This pleases me to an exceptional degree. • Speaking of calendars, I still don’t have one in the apartment for 2008. I’ve also decided that I need a datebook so I can write down appointments…
The worst part about being a grownup has got to be the paperwork. A constant stream of it, coming from store clerks and bank tellers and the mailman, pouring in, day after day, filling every pocket, every purse, every drawer, every shelf — paper everywhere. And I’ve even opted in to paperless billing and opted out of credit-card offers and whatnot. Still, the stuff overwhelms me. I had a frantic ten minutes today when I…
I’m back home after a day-plus jaunt to see the family and celebrate the oldest nephew’s birthday. I’m hungry, my flea-ridden animals need a bath, the apartment is — once again — filthy, I’ve got lots of e-mail- and blog-post reading to catch up on, I’ve got about 400 photos from the weekend to process, and I’ve got a few actual posts of my own knocking around in my head that I may actually sit…
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