spinning-jennie: Moaning Archives

spinning-jennie: Moaning archives

Sing heigh-ho
I'm fevery (again!) and just... tired. Bone tired. Very much done with today, and its friends the week previous and the month prior to that. So you probably won't mind too much if I put on flannel jammies and read my book (which I received as an Advance Copy months ago, and dropped the ball on that review, too; The Suck, that be me), instead of sitting here for another half hour trying to force myself to bang out.

But on review, this entry might already hold as much intelligible content as any other, huh?

03/16/08 10:00 PM in Moaning | Comments

I Gots the Fever
100.7, and I normally run at about 97.4. So enough to be fairly miserable. Blah. Same phlegmy lung gunk that Daniel has been hacking up. Watery eyes. Scratchy throat, don't want to talk. Have to study, midterm due by Sunday night, can't concentrate. Ugh.

Tomorrow is the official Blog 365 Rest Day, so I'll be taking full advantage of that. See you on the flip side.

02/28/08 09:16 PM in Moaning | Comments

Tanqueray Days
It's not as if I didn't expect it. When I started working at the middle school, it took my immune system over a year to adjust to the stewpot of viruses. And the bub is starting out with a lot less immunity than I did. And apparently, preschool kids are nothing more than adorable little Gymboree-clad snotlaunchers. So we have a frustrated bub who has been spending more time out of school than in, more of springtime indoors than out.

And a mom who thinks about renewing her interest in recreational drinking more often than not. At least I'll be safer from malaria. Ha.

02/27/08 08:52 PM in Moaning | Comments

Early to Rise
An hour before midnight, and I'm at a complete loss for a topic. I think my Code Orange-Red level of irk is restricting the blood flow to my brain.

Or maybe it's lack of sleep.

Nah. I don't need sleep. I have my bon-bons. Right?

That was a rhetorical question, you know.

I've never been a six-hour kind of person. I mean, there are periods lasting a few days -- usually in spring or summer -- where I'm inexplicably wired, and can breeze by on four or five. But fall and winter? Nah. I need my seven or eight.

Well, Daylight Savings has really ripped our schedule here a new one. Still not adjusted. I've never been a huge fan of Daylight Savings, but that disdain increased by about a million bajillion once I multiplied. And if we were talking about just the lost hour, that would still be doable. But no -- for whatever reason, these days it's more like two.

But who can expect a toddler to understand circadian math?

11/16/06 10:44 PM in Moaning | Comments

Ever...
...have one of those days? Well, of course you have. Which is why you'll put up with my pointless/cryptic whining here (or avert your eyes if not ;-) ).

I'm exhausted to the breaking point, on the very razor edge of tears all day. Emotionally wiped. I wasn't built for any type of leadership role, my chemistry (especially that of the stomach acid) is all wrong for it. I've got the diplomacy part down, sure, and a few creative problem-solving skills, but little else. I can't make quick, or strong, or unpopular decisions for anything, and I'm almost completely incapable of dealing with confrontation. As much as I'm all too aware of these failings, they don't seem to want to just magically disappear (imagine that!).

I see that people are coming here wondering "Why???" so I hope that answered to their satisfaction. At least from my perspective; others have their own reasons.

Well, at least I can feel good about doing the absolute best I could with what I had. And, after today, things will be better. I'm looking forward to just being a part without having to worry if my friendships (???) will go *pwoof* because I made the wrong call (that will be left to my other stellar qualities, har har). There is that much.

But, back to whining... I've got a killer sinus episode going (complete with nausea, whee!), and apparently no sound is coming out when I open my mouth (not in the literal sense).

Time for some empty calories!

08/30/06 06:33 PM in Moaning | Comments

What Transition?
So much for those pleasant, breatheable temps -- it went straight from the sixties/low seventies to NINETY SEVEN. Luckily this isn't the norm. But, still. We're putting in a window A/C this weekend. Because we can only spend so much time in the bathtub. And laptops aren't waterproof.

06/16/06 04:47 PM in Moaning | Comments

AUUUUUGGGH.
Cars manufactured in recent years without LATCH can now officially kiss my ass.

I pulled a muscle in my side trying to install the new carseat. And it's still not as tight as I want it. Why, oh WHY? does it have to be brain surgery? I hate things that make me feel stupid and/or seek the aid of the police. There's got to be a better f&^$ing way.

Oh, yeah, there is - it's called LATCH!!! Grr.

That is all.

01/09/06 03:15 PM in Moaning | Comments

Ughughughugh.
We're all sick. At least Daniel is acting completely himself, and will still eat and drink (the problem is all down south, uck). D. has something akin to mild food poisoning, and I've got my typical plane-induced fevery sinus goop. So, as you can imagine, we're having a great time.

Luckily I was granted with the strange foresight to book us a studio suite with a kitchen, so we can keep hot soup and cold Pedialyte on hand.

10/27/05 08:55 AM in Moaning | Comments

The One Thing Brown *Can* Do...
...better than USPS is deliver on stupid non-holidays that p**s me off.

Bah humbug.

10/10/05 05:30 PM in Moaning | Comments

Is It October Yet?
It is hot, and sunny, and I'm about to tear my heat-absorbent hair out by the roots. We had a few days of blissful, fallish cool - it was, for instance, cloudy and around seventy on Daniel's birthday - but back up into the nineties we go. I tell myself that it's just as bad elsewhere. Much worse, for instance, in Sacramento. But there we at least had A/C and indoor spaces to walk.

Most people don't feel like eating when it's hot, but I just get mildly depressed from being cooped up, and addicted to serotonin-inflating carbs. So very not happy with my weight right now, and the favorite/most effective form of exercise will give melanoma and sunstroke. I could join a gym, I suppose, but then Daniel would scream bloody murder at being left with strangers (that's even assuming that the places around here have childcare). And of course there's the fact that I'm not a big fan of indoor exercise, which leaves me feeling claustrophobic. Not to mention that whole Other People thing. Meh.

We did, regardless, wander out into the swelter this morning. The motivation was organic strawberries. But, alas, we arrived to find "Summer Hours: Closed Tuesday and Thursday." Dammit.

08/30/05 03:44 PM in Moaning | Comments

Get Your Piping-Hot, Raving Lunatics Here
Hey, you.

Yes. I'm talking to you, Today.

Kiss my bootay. Then be gone. And take the sun, and residential architecture as oven, and f**king Cingular with you.

07/13/05 04:07 PM in Moaning | Comments

One
One hour. That's what I managed. Excellent.

06/09/05 07:41 AM in Moaning | Comments

Pity Party
It's rainy. Which normally wouldn't bother me, but I feel crappy enough as it is, and the weather is just exacerbating that. Slept half the morning away with the bub, at least. Now he's destroying things from my bookshelf, and I'm camped here in front of the screen, hoping something cheering or good will happen there.

It hasn't. And I need some coffee, but it's really too late in the day to drink it. I'm supposed to go out to do my thing tonight, but it's wet and I don't know that I will. Stoking up the oven and making this old recipe from Stef sounds like a better idea.

06/08/05 03:46 PM in Moaning | Comments

Yes, So, Now - About That Benadryl.
Longest day ever. Cranky bub, because of the tiredness (imagine that!). Went to bed about the normal time tonight, awake screaming less than an hour later. D. at work all day, no rest for the wicked. I should probably be sleeping while I can, but perversely now I'm wired, from trying to stay awake all day. If we're headed for a repeat of last night/today, the Borg may just as well take me now.

04/16/05 07:37 PM in Moaning | Comments

So, Benadryl, You Say.
Four-thirty. Awake. Actually, awake at three-thirty, but didn't believe he'd insist on being up. I mean, really up. For no good reason. Same naps. Same bedtime. Same food. No teething. No sugar. The ~~blasted~~ ~~damned~~ fucking control for my side of the bed was wedged between the wall and the "mattress," and when I rolled over, it started to shriek and I couldn't get it to stop, and he started crying. Though he was quite awake before that, so pretty sure that wasn't what did it.

Since I wasn't able to get to sleep until nearly midnight, I'm so very not in good shape right now. My hip hurts like a mofo, Daniel's trying to eat the cords beneath my desk, and my glasses are smudged. At six I guess I'll salvage what I can of my hair and we'll go get a buttload of donuts.

And a vat of coffee.

Update: Wait... Albertson's is open now. Sugarrrrrcarbbbbsfatfatfat. I didn't know they're open 24 hours (files for future use in similar situations).

Update two: Very little ticks me off more than businesses publishing incorrect info on their websites. Albertson's is not open 24 hours. But Safeway is. Which worked out well, because they've got a Starbucks. And really - when was the last time I allowed myself to have a Caramel Macchiato? Did some light shopping (no better time), drooling throughout the store as the smell of fresh pastries wafted down the aisles. Unfortunately, the donuts weren't ready yet! So I had to make do with cinnamon rolls of uncertain birthdate. Drove around a bit with my coffee love afterwards, thinking it'd put Daniel out (it did, but only until we got in the door). It's also been awhile since I've been outside for a dawn, and that, and the mist over the eastern hills, and the dimness-spooked adobe may have almost made up for the early hour.

04/16/05 04:25 AM in Moaning | Comments

...and Suckry.
Well, both drives in my PC went kaput. And in the data transfer to the new drives from the better one, something went wacko. Hear tell I may have to reinstall. Never, ever fails. Just when I get things the way I like 'em, it's time to start over from scratch. Pfft.

Well, here's a new pic, anyhow. I'm honestly quite surprised that Daniel hasn't gotten scratched yet, the way he plays a little rough with Elmo's tail and hind legs. Elmo seems to realize that he just doesn't know any better, and continues to take it like a champ.

03/30/05 09:59 AM in Baby , Moaning , Photo | Comments

Insert Rodney Dangerfield Quip Here
It's difficult to hear comments like this and not slip into mild feelings of inferiority, even though my brain calls bullshit. There are times I want to go back to work just so I won't feel as if I'm constantly under veiled contempt and misplaced envy.

02/17/05 11:19 AM in Moaning | Comments

Sleep is Not an Issue Until You're Not Getting It
I've always been honest here. But, while I may have at times revealed more than others, it's merely the tip of the iceberg, always finding myself censoring, reserved here. Art (such as it is) imitating life, I suppose, because that's how I am around most. I guess I've this ungodly hour to thank/blame for any of the following spew.

Now it's past one, and I'm up. Daniel fussed for two hours, during which I became more and more frustrated and awake. Then I lay there, finding myself staring at the clock and growing somewhat resentful, on the crampy bed, with the baby sleeping fitfully on one side of me, intermittent chainsaw noises on my other. There's more room and comfort on the couch, but that would mean waking up the baby to bring him along. And you don't wake up a sleeping baby - most especially a rarely sleeping baby - trust me.

The Book that has been highly praised by all... I'm plowing through as I can, in three-page fits and starts, but am becoming more and more impatient and disappointed. I'm finding nothing earth-shattering, hardly a thing that I'm not already trying. Attempting to feed more during the day. Longer naps. Early bedtimes. Routine. Please tell me it gets more compelling than that, please. There is, of course, nothing that explains why he'd slowly grown to become such a relatively good sleeper - three, five! seven!!! hour stretches - and suddenly, with no change from me, exhibiting worse than newborn sleep patterns. He's been spiralling in fits and starts for a few weeks to get to this point, where he can be up every twenty minutes. And I don't know what to do.

Obviously, I don't want to be groggy, always-vaguely-pissed mommy, but I'm finding myself slipping. How am I going to deal with a move, if it comes to that? Where is the energy and patience going to come from? I feel like I did before leaving my last job, achingly desperate for a change - but now that desperation is directly affecting the tiny person I've cared most about, ever. And there's no advice to be taken, no help to be had. Unless you count the babyboomer standard - "Put him in his crib (all alone?) and let him cry until he falls asleep." I don't think I'll ever be tired enough to break our own hearts on purpose.

I've come back from nursing him to sleep, again, and it's past two. And I've never felt this alone.

01/03/05 02:18 AM in Moaning | Comments

Starting With a Bang
Awake before six, again. Also from ten to eleven (tried to go to bed early, ha), and - yes, quite literally - every half-hour to hour between. Suddenly, again, with the half hour naps, too, and it takes me half an hour to get to sleep, so. Any pattern that we'd established has completely dissolved. My sinuses are (of course) using these past few days of immunity deflation as an excuse to go medieval on my ass, and my hospital-proof ibuprofen isn't working. My face just hurts. They gave me Vico*din for my recovery, too, which I never used, but am thinking of taking now despite the risk of utter grogginess (even plain old vanilla Benadryl knocks me flat for the whole day). I am in pain and unbreathing and exhausted, and not happy, and am having an increasingly impossible time faking being so, not breaking down.

It is all no excuse, really, and I am a selfish mommy, needing sleep. Terrible for feeling utterly frustrated, and for crying, and not quite knowing how to stop.

01/01/05 07:16 AM in Moaning | Comments

Can You Feel the Love Tonight?
Portrait holiday cards are too stressful. Especially when you're a) too stupid to count and order the right number in the first place, b) too clueless to know that you're not going to be able to walk into a photo processing center and get copies of those studio portraits (and c) too not-rich to pay the studio a hundred bucks for more), d) too moronic to get even minimally acceptable results from the photo printer... and e) just idiotic enough to wait until the very last minute to finish it all up.

This is the last year I agonize endlessly over finding, making, or putting together the perfect card. For the sake of my sanity, and for the saving of my dearth of "free" time, next year everyone gets cards with cranky old biddies.

12/17/04 10:58 PM in Moaning | Comments

Oh No You Di'nt.
Normally, I can almost take it, the always running on not quite enough. But in the past twenty-four hours, I've had even less sleep than usual, getting up for the airport at five yesterday, and today The Bean being up intermittently since two for a wailing crescendo at five the breaking (bawling) straw. I'm just so f*cking exhausted. And of course the past week has been such a cake walk (uh-huh), and not more than seven real hours of sleep in over three months, generally less.

But the worst nightmare of all - SEVERELY LIMITED CAFFEINE.

So I'm not taking complaints today from those who get to sleep in and drink all the cola bevvies they want. Since I can't guarantee your safety.

11/20/04 06:26 AM in Moaning | Comments

Duchess of Suck
Jennie, don't take it personally. Don't take it personally.

Really. It's not you.

11/15/04 09:00 PM in Moaning | Comments

Time's Up
Spent much time writing lengthy post. It's gone (thought the days of saving posts to clipboard for safety were long gone with Blogger, sigh). And now it's my strictly-enforced bedtime, so you need to be deprived of my oh-so-brilliant observations until tomorrow night, when the little lion sleeps again.

09/22/04 10:17 PM in Moaning | Comments

Wishes are Fishes
This is what I want, before I have to give up any semblance of real sleep for several months. I want twelve night-time hours in a soundproof, lightproof room. Just me, a real unshared bed that is not too small for two-and-a-half people, no cats hissing at each other or breathing tuna in my face, no idiots driving by with their stereos blasting after midnight, no servers that clench up at 3 am and make obnoxious noises every fifteen minutes (and so no one to snark at me and set off the Unstoppable Bawl Reflex of Pregnancy at 6 am when I was the only one to hear the damned thing after three hours and have, in my sleep deprivation and shameful stupidity, handled it wrong), no early morning maintenance men with lawnmowers or leafblowers or weed-whackers, no nightmares about my mother stealing my unborn child because I'm unfit, no couch seams up my butt, and no wee-hour cravings for roast beef sandwiches.

08/02/04 07:55 AM in Moaning | Comments

Maybe I Should Just Call it a Day
Bored stiff, indecisive, and weepy... excellent combination.

06/11/04 07:19 PM in Moaning | Comments

Break Out the Waterworks
I suck! And so does everyone else!

My bread didn't rise and I'm a generally an awful housewife. I have to go shopping so I can get bananas so the excruciating cramps in my calves will stop, but I don't want to. The rednextdoorneighbors have hung their horrid laundry over our divider fence for eight days running (I've thought of throwing over a nylon clothesline). And the clueless wonders across the street have the car alarm on their lowrider at such a sensitive setting that passing bass-y stereos set it off - over and over and over again.

05/17/04 06:18 PM in Moaning | Comments

Just Desserts For Bragging on Not Being Sick This Year
I have a cold. Someone probably mouthbreathed on me at our trashy WalMart (the only place to shop anywhere remotely nearby, and sometimes you've just gotta). Luckily NyQuil is on the safe list.

04/29/04 09:37 AM in Moaning | Comments

And Then Came the Split-Pea Soup
I'm not going to lie to you: this whole being an incubator (and nothing but an incubator) gig pretty much sucks at the moment. I can't breathe, my closest family is being selfish and/or downright poisonous in the face of what I consider a good bit of generosity, and it seems that in the past three days I've lost the ability to sleep halfway through a night. To sum, I'm overtired, hurt, and nauseous (again!). The only comfort I derive is feeling the kicking/wriggling/headbutting/???. So the kidlet gets to stay, but people who dismiss my state as a temporal issue, and those without cookies or nice things to say, can kindly go 'way.

04/25/04 02:56 AM in Moaning | Comments

Maternal Gothic (or, Will You Still Respect Me When I Come to My Senses in the Morning?)
It hasn't been the best day, really. It's been a struggle, but until now, I've mostly been able to ignore the raging mood swings and keep that upper lip stiff. I'm certainly not unhappy with The Bean. But today, all at once, I've become homesick, I'm feeling large and gross and undesireable, and I'm (perversely, yes, I realize) tired of being alone. Which somehow escalated to now, where there are suddenly so many other dark and selfish and otherwise unutterable (= will get me in trouble if I mention) thoughts grappling for headspace, it's keeping me awake and even lonelier. I know with absolute certainty that not returning to my job was, health-wise, the safest course, but now that I haven't been puking for a few weeks, the fun of limitless boredom has lost some appeal (not to mention that I still haven't figured out how to satisfactorily handle "So, what do you do?" Uh, erm... can't say "parent" yet... I sit on my waterlogged butt and eat fakemeat sandwiches the live-long day...?).

Walking in the dusk tonight, I've never been more tempted to just find a dog - any grateful, kid-safe little shelter mutt - and bring it home. The cats have been, for the most part, disgustingly aloof and naughty. And bonus! barfier than usual. Which in my current frame I'd almost suspect they're doing because it grosses me out more, and/or because it's increasingly uncomfortable to bend down and clean up. And of course you can't even pretend discourse with them, unless they want more food to upchuck.

04/08/04 02:34 AM in Moaning | Comments

By All Means, Take Your Time, It's Only Our Health
I like most of the doctors in my OB group, but some of the staff is hopeless. Yesterday's doc told me that the ultrasound results hadn't arrived yet, but she would have someone call me when they came in. I guess they did shortly afterwards, because her assistant called me before I even had time to get home. When I called back, she was at lunch, so I left voicemail, and the message said that she would get back to me promptly - "within 24 to 48 hours [?!?]" Well, I guess she's being literal, and of course it's a weekend.

Aside from wanting the reassurance that the radiologist found all the organs normal, my uterus is measuring markedly large for a normal-sized baby, and the doctor said it's highly possible that I have fibroids. Which, if true, I may have always had, and now they're growing because of all the estrogen. They're pretty common and don't often cause serious complications - just often enough to make me twitchy. I know medical offices are busy, but, cripes, this is irritating.

04/02/04 11:51 AM in Moaning | Comments

Surgeon General Warns Against Gardening While Pregnant
Ahh, Sunday gardening. Relaxing backyard pastime.

Not.

I headed out as early as possible, knowing that it would be far too warm by the time I was really motivated (or, more accurately, when D. became motivated and I felt compelled to join in). Sheer futility. I'd only finished translating my meticulously-drafted grid to string and thumbtacks, and already I was overheated and shaky, sweating through my tee and cotton plaid manpanties (the Valley gardening outfit of champions). Add that to somewhat grudging and definitely hormonal, and you've got yourself a recipe for fun.

The soil in the vegetable plot was far too dry for planting, so I watered it and decided to weed the second flowerbed while I waited for it to de-mud. I could do this by kneeling and plodding away with handtools (not necessarily comfy with a constant low backache and closely-related lump in the gut), or by whaling on it with the heavy-duty rake. If we had your garden-variety weeds, this wouldn't have been a problem, but our flowerbed is drowning in deep-rooted grass.

After ten minutes of bushwhacking with all my might while gingerly avoiding the poor little rosebushes but not making any progress, the lawn got a frustrated earful... and then I started to bawl. Dirt is, among the sane, not something worth crying over, but, let's face it - I haven't been able to claim anything remotely approaching sanity in five months.

So now we're both disgusted with me, my hands are sore and I smell, and the vegetables still aren't planted. Screw it. I'm going to take a shower.

P.S. The Garden Weasel is possibly the suckiest tool in the world.

03/21/04 11:51 AM in Moaning | Comments

Oh, for an Espresso!
It's ridiculous, how exhausted I am most days. I'm getting 10-12 hours of sleep, and it still doesn't feel like enough. Everyone tells me this is normal. But how could something that's only supposed to be needing 300 extra calories a day (and well getting that) sap so much energy?

And there are things I wanted to do this next couple of months. You know, before walking and bending over become hurdles. Get the vegetable and wildflower gardens started. Unpack the rest of the office stuff. Hang shades and curtains. All near impossible when you're ready to take a nap by the time your morning toast has popped up.

03/05/04 04:08 PM in Moaning | Comments

Triple Drat!
The problem with using an email address ending in your own dotcom is that the *&!@#$ spammers have ruined it. I can't reach more and more of my friends and family with my own damned email because their providers are shutting me out one by one. Earthlink, AOL, various and sundry large smallers. I don't know who sucks more - the spammers, or the providers who're blocking reputable (?) domains!

02/17/04 06:08 PM in Moaning | Comments

And Tired and Cranky in the PM = More Ranting
Last night was Stupid Fight Night, after which I didn't sleep and developed the nastiest sinus headache. Co-watching the news is, at least in these times of severe hormonal bombardment, off limits.

As I've mentioned before, the previous residents never bothered to forward their mail. We've informed the Post Office, but some of it still manages to get here. Of course catalogs stay with the "current resident," and I'm finding their array of choices pretty amusing (Marlboro gear, teenybop surfgirl wannabe, and Frederick's).

Not so innocuous: getting their W-2s. If I were much less honest (and much more cavalier about going to jail), wouldn't all those SSNs come in handy for something or other? Idiots.

02/06/04 12:44 PM in Moaning | Comments

Ignore That Bleary-Eyed Madwoman with the Big Boobs
It will get better soon. It has to. Because eventually I will, as my creepy OB nurse (upon learning of my long-ago battle with clinical depression) put it, "start thinking of doing harm to myself or others." Probably others.

The joy of constant hormone surges, up and up and up. It's like the emotional content of PMS times twenty, accompanied by all-day nausea, a constant feeling of pale hollow, and dizziness if I stand in one place for more than a few seconds. Oh, and let's not forget the ADHD. Or the fact that nasal decongestants can cause birth defects, so I've become a permanent mouthbreather. For a couple days last week, I escaped with only the fatigue, and thought it was coming to a close. Psych!

All while I'm pressured to feel either automatic overjoy or super-depressing "you're not out of the woods yet, don't buy anything or tell anyone" caution by the elder set, normal and not at all touchy by the home set, and nutrient-crammed and chemically virgin pure by myself. In short, the only sympathy my racked body gets comes from groups of people I've never met, going through the same thing.

And then I read this, and think it may come off to some as selfish and unmothery, but then... screw that. This isn't the fifties, and you don't want the whitewashed version. I've been fed the platitude enough times - it's all worth it in the end - and wouldn't be here if most of me didn't agree.

But that doesn't make me feel any less like crap right now.

01/18/04 03:11 PM in Moaning | Comments

Who Would Do Such a Thing?
There's only one object of my desire right now - purple Powerade. Jagged Ice, I believe it's called. But can I have it? No.

As a rule, I don't enjoy the Ades. When sick as a kid, I was force-fed green Gatorade or 7-Up. Both make me gag to this day when I smell them. So I don't know how it happened that, on one of my walks last summer, I bought a purple Powerade from the vending machine on the other side of the complex. Surprisingly tasty and very quenchy! I enjoyed it often. Then fall came, and I forgot about it.

Until this week, when World War III broke out in my body, and its former whim has somehow become a screaming demand. If I didn't know better, I'd be tempted to believe that this is the doing of the two Midnorthern Temporary Command Centers, both loaded with bayonets and cannonballs and bitchy little generals, expanding in perimeter at a rather alarming rate.

Sunday morning I woke up at five, wanting the stuff. Wanting it so badly, my throat wouldn't stop pestering until I threw on some sweats and got some. Why don't I just buy a big bottle at the store? you say. Good question. I can't find purple. They stock all the other flavors - "fruit" punch, blue, green (shudddder). But not the barely-sweet nothingness of purple.

So today, after packing a couple of boxes (which is all I can seem to manage before the strong urge to power nap takes over), I craved the Ade. On with the shoes, dollar in the pocket, and off.

I arrived at the machine to find that someone - someone who should be drawn and quartered - had pulverized the bill slot, apparently with a sledgehammer. Little bits of plastic and electronics hanging all about. Pathetically, desperately, I tried to shove the dollar into what remained of the feed. Then whimpered, possibly stomped.

They'd better just hope I can scrounge up enough change. They better had.

12/11/03 04:53 PM in Moaning | Comments

Season's Fleeings
I had all these grand plans for the holidays this year. Lots of handcrafted gifts, make each card myself, baking, baking, baking. Because, theoretically, I was going to have the time. And the energy.

But now we're moving, and won't even have a tree. At least not our full-sized tree. I'll have one of those mini tabletop affairs, regardless, I will. All our major kitchen stuff will be packed away, so dinner will be interesting. Boston Market, anyone?

So it's gift cards and Hallmark for all this year. I'm sure you'll understand. If you give me some packing boxes, maybe I'll make it up to you on Valentine's Day.

12/04/03 10:30 AM in Moaning | Comments

Alas, Poor Nap, I Hardly Knew Thee
Today was slightly overcast and more than cool enough for an afternoon nap. I read my book for a bit in the quiet before nodding off.

And I swear, just ten minutes later, three things happened in tandem: the nasty duck started squawking, neighbor dog began to bark, and somebody across the pond got out the ray-dee-o for some good old-fashioned honky-tonk blues.

Boot-scootin' makes me cranky.

10/17/03 04:41 PM in Moaning | Comments

Neverending Summer
I'm really beginning to dislike it here. Just in case you were wondering.

10/15/03 07:00 AM in Moaning | Comments

Go Away.
The main problem, I've come to realize, is that I'm tired of expectations.

I have four times the students I began with three years ago, two less hours a day to deal with them all, and twice as many teachers expecting more and more. I never wanted to be the Queen of Recycling when I started to blog about my pursuits. And why would you think for a second that I would give up my, erm, sick day to drive around in a car with no A/C and run errands? I've become very, very greedy with my own time - it's mine! mine! I tell you. And no one should dare even suggest how I spend it.

I can multitask, but I hate it. And I find myself doing it more and more. It drives me up a wall when I'm trying to deal with ten screaming kids at once, and adults (who should know better, come on) walk in and start jockeying for attention on top of it. Requests on my shrinking time are more frequently met with snappish rejoinders, mordant stares, or, in the case of email, complete lack of reply (sorry). It's become literally impossible for me to finish a project without interruption; I can barely add a copy record to the catalog in peace.

And I, being fairly rational and intelligent, of course know about all the things that should be getting done, and the things I'd like to get done, and the things you want me to do. But, mercy, I'm just one person. One person serving a ballooning school on six hours a day. It's not the quiet, boring little room it used to be, in which whole hours would go by without a class visit. So that pallet of textbooks isn't going to get processed any faster if you sit here and whine about long it's taking. No, our software doesn't even begin to support Interlibrary Loan, and none of us in the district would have the time to take it on even if it did. And, for heaven's sake, NO!!! I will not look up each of the 300 titles at the Book Fair to see if they've got an Accelerated Reader test!!! Parents don't volunteer anymore - they're too busy working fifty-hour weeks for the all-important American Dream: that second SUV and the monstrous clone home in the "prestigious" treeless subdivision and new Nikes for junior.

The chaos bubbles over, to the point that I just want to lie down and give up responsibility for everything, everywhere. I'm tired.

09/24/03 10:14 AM in Moaning | Comments

Burnt, But Still Not Pessimistic
What a complete waste of a day. In so very many, many ways. I won't bore you with the gruesome details. Wouldn't be prudent, anyhow.

On the bright side (because there's always one, there has to be, don't disabuse me of my silly little lifeline), lookee what returned to the preorder market. Shallow, but worth a bunch in the way of making me feel better. I've ordered it; ETA a long three months out.

Oh, and the Book Fair's done. That's a good thing too.

09/19/03 03:05 PM in Moaning | Comments

That Day, Part II - This Time, It's a Saturday
Pretty Russian ceramic saucer met its death via my clumsiness and heavy butter knife. Lady at the circulation desk was mean to me (hey, I'm not a civilian!). Claritin-D is screwing with my fat-deprived chemistry in a bad way, leaving me featherheaded and nauseous. Bitched a lot about said pukeydizziness, not taken seriously. Hands and wrists hurt from repetitively lifting textbooks all week.

Will take two Vanilla Diet Cokes and call you in the morning.

09/13/03 06:37 PM in Moaning | Comments

Ulcer Fodder
D. is on his way to the Bay. I can now begin worrying about traffic (read: horrible rush-hour crashes on I-80 and unfortunate bridge/earthquake timings). You SF residents may feel free to laugh heartily at me.

09/08/03 10:41 AM in Moaning | Comments