20 November 2015

better, theoretically

The good news is that today, at the end of week three of the new job, the second full week, I am not quite as exhausted as I was two weeks ago, at the end of the first full week.

I mean, I'm still sitting on my bed all bundled up. I still didn't run the (one) (single) errand I meant to run this evening (to get sparkling water, if you must know). But I feel like I maybe could have run the errand. You know, if I wanted to. If I wanted to get up out of my warm bed and go out into the cold, I could have.


19 November 2015

even earlier

I never knew how much I could appreciate a rainless commute. Driving home this evening in the Not Rain, I was positively buoyant about the traffic. Who cares? At least I'm not hydroplaning between a truck and the concrete under a bridge (that happened this morning at approximately 5:56 am). 

I thought getting up at 5:15 was bad. This morning I got up at 4:15 so that my coworker and I could meet in State City and get to Universe City by 8 am. 

So that was fun.

I'm not quite sure I'm coherent right now.

17 November 2015


This commute is all well and good until it's pouring down rain and the highway is flooded and getting home takes double time. 

I'm trying to hold out with this car for a year, but when I'm driving next to a triple trailer semi on the highway, focusing with all my might on the yellow line because it's the only thing I can see, feeling like a bug about to be squashed, in a tiny car with airbags that don't work, I question that decision.

14 November 2015

midweek day off

(Oops. I wrote this on Wednesday and then wandered off and forgot to post it.)

I am becoming militant about conserving my bedtime. Even last night, when I knew that I didn't have to get up early this morning (Veterans Day: the holiday I never knew existed until I started working closely with government bodies and suddenly they were all closed one day in November), I was in bed before 10 pm and slept for 10 hours. 10 hours is my new normal when I don't have to get up at 5:15 for work, apparently.

My roommate started a new job on Monday, so our apartment is basically the land of early-to-bedders these days: dark and quiet by 9:30 pm.

In addition to sleeping for ten hours, I slept in my down jacket last night. I didn't really intend to, but it was so cold when I went to bed that I left it on, and then when I woke up in the night, the air was still so cold that I decided to keep it on.

If this keeps up, I'm going to need another down jacket for the days when I have to wash this one. It's just that I refuse to turn the heat on unless it gets below 40 degrees F at night or doesn't get up to 50 degrees F during the day. (This is an arbitrary rule that I made up last night.)

When I woke up this morning, it was not quite 8 am.

There is a remarkable amount of day when you get up before 8 am.

So far, I have done such exciting things as dishes and preparing a bunch of forms for my law school's loan repayment assistance program. Also I made chai* for tomorrow and switched two of the ink cartridges in my pens from black to blue.

My life is so exciting.

* Two years ago, the year that I worked in downtown Gone West after moving back from Universe City, I got a chai at the bucks of star every day. The other day, I read somewhere that chai from the bucks of star has 42 grams of sugar in it. Wot. Clearly I cannot drink it ever again unless I'm road tripping or about to go on a hike. Homemade it is, both by necessity (my new office is not close to any coffee shops) and for my health.

07 November 2015


After 10 good hours of sleep and a Skype call with T., whose boys were running around playing with some toy named Peso (don't ask me; I am out of the loop on the pop culture of small children), and some errands, I came home to do something I haven't done in three years:

I made sweet potato enchiladas.

That doesn't sound like a big deal, I know, but it actually is. It's a big deal because it means that I have the mental space for something other than survival, and apparently it's been three years since I had that mental space.

Of course, I have forgotten most of how I made them, and I think I probably should have gotten Cuban style black beans and medium enchilada sauce and caramelized onions if I wanted them to be just like I used to make them, but there are eight cups of cheese and a metric ton of freshly ground black pepper in those two pans, so I'm sure they will be delicious. (They are made of CHEESE and corn and sweet potato and enchilada sauce. They can't help but be delicious.)

06 November 2015


Whenever I start a new job, I end the first week feeling like I've been hit by a truck. It's all the new information coming at me, trying to settle into the corners of my brain.

I started a new job on Monday, and I started the long commute again. I'm getting up at 5:15 am, now, because I want to be a little early and the commute is a little longer (by one exit/three highway miles/two minutes per google) than the one I was doing earlier in the year.

I feel like I've been hit by two trucks.

Last night, I went to an event in downtown Gone West. I was a little late (thank you, traffic in this crazy city), and afterward my roommate, to whom I had offered a ride home, was chatting with someone, and I just stood there swaying.

When I got home tonight, I leaned over to put something in the recycling bag and almost tipped over.

So I made some hot chocolate and climbed into bed with my computer. 

The hot chocolate is gone now. I'm trying to summon the energy to go brush my teeth and all those necessary life tasks. 

And then I'm going to sleep for ages. Possibly ages and a half.

Needless to say, this is not going to be one of the NaBloPoMo posting-daily kind of Novembers.

28 October 2015


I woke up Monday morning to cloudy skies. I shouldn't have been surprised - it is, after all, October - but I got used to months of glorious sunshine, and so I was, in fact surprised.

Even though it rained most of the weekend while I was in Universe City.

When I go to Universe City now, it's this lovely place of rest and friends, and I start to wonder why I left. I spent an afternoon in my old office, feeling nostalgic (if I ever go back to that line of work, it would be in that office). I went to a haunted corn maze* with overlapping groups of friends. I spent an afternoon reading books to my friend's one year old. I went to a fancy cider brewery with another set of friends. I drank lots of tea. 

It's all very peaceful and happy. I have to remind myself that when I lived there, 1. I had an actual stressful job to do, and 2. not everyone was free every weekend like they are when I come to town twice a year. 

* I never used to like scary things like haunted corn mazes or haunted houses, but I also went to another haunted thing this year, and they don't really scare me. They get my adrenaline up, because things are jumping out at you, but - and this is key - the jumping out things can't touch you. (Too much liability.) If the jumping out thing can't touch me, I just stare them down. They find it disappointing. I'm a fear-confronter, apparently.