Pensive

So, there's something about being forced to stay immobile for most of the day that makes you think. I mean, I usually spend the weekends in bed by choice, but that leaves a lingering feeling of guilt. However, due to the aforementioned cab hitting, my right leg is encased in a weird velcro/steel bar contraption, and walking would be hard enough even if my apartment weren't a minefield of disasters waiting to trip up my crutches.

So. I'm lying in my bed trying to avoid my roommate with whom I am passive aggressively fighting. (How hard is it to avoid him while you're in bed, you ask? Harder than you'd think. I have to go to the bathroom sometimes.) I'm not thinking grand thoughts, mostly petty ones (one being- if I stole one of the keys off his keychain, he couldn't get in....)

Also, I want a parrot.

and it continues

So, I had to get into work early this morning. Not too much of a problem (aside from the fact that the mouse family gets annoyed when I get up early, apparently). I throw together an outfit, I hop on the subway. I hobble to work. I greet our speakers, take them to the meeting and decide to reward myself with a super coffee from Starbucks. You know, the EXTRA caffeinated kind, because I need it.

So I order my grande iced vanilla latte, light ice, light vanilla and then I realize I can't remember how to ask for the extra shots of espresso that make it extra caffeinated.

And I say, "Also I need the thing, you know the stuff with the extra, the thing that makes it more, the caffeine is more inside, the thing that makes it more awake for me?"

I kid you not, the entire Starbucks stopped. And I said "You know? The thing?" And they all laughed. I think they may actually rename the extra shot "The thing that makes it more awake for me."

The bright side of this is, I got a triple shot of espresso for free. But it's only 9 am, and I'm not sure how long that will last...

bummer

I just spent quite a while posting something about how sorry I feel for myself (including pictures!) and accidentally deleted it.

If there is something wrong with me that RICE (rest, ice, compression, elevation) can't fix, rest assured I will update.

Cliche, much?

When I have a bad day, it's not like a few bad things happen, or I'm bummed out, or something simple like that. It's as though the fates align to make sure that as many irritating things possible happen ALL AT ONCE. As of 11:25 am on August 15th, 2006

1. Bed broke as a result of my reorganization.
2. Hot water is out again, resulting in a less than attractive hairstyle for the day.
3. Spilled coffee on self in cab.
4. Arrived at work, only to find that the other two women who own the distinctive skirt I am wearing also chose this day to wear it. Only they don't have the coffee stains.
6. Dentist appointment.
7. Hit by a cab on my way to the dentist.
8. Fell in puddle as a result of being hit by cab, adding an interesting mix to what's going on with my skirt.
9. Returned to office, to find that receptionist is out, which means that I will have to fight with the new phone system instead of taking a lunch break.

It can only get better, right? Right?

Being Saved

I was "saved" by my cabdriver this morning. I have, apparently, accepted the lord Jesus Christ as my savior.

It all started when he asked me what fascist meant (having seen it in the paper, thank you, Mr. President), and I tried to explain what it meant, and the context in which the president used it, having NO idea what religious/political affiliations the cabbie may have had. I came up with something like, "It's a philosophical school of thought that puts state above the individual, and can have negative connotations due to its association with the Nazi party during WWII, and in this context, Bush is applying it towards the sort of government that uses religous ideology to govern, often to the detriment of its people."

So then he said, "Well, how do you fight against a philosophy?" And I said, "I don't know, that seems to be how we got in this tangle, and why it's so hard to get out of it."

Then he said, well, Praise the Lord we stopped what just could have happened, so I figured I wasn't going to get vilified for being pleased the terrorist attack was stopped, and said, "Yeah, Jesus Christ- can you imagine?"

Which led to a discussion of how my invoking the name of the lord meant I could be saved. It was an odd start to the day.

Also, I realize my definition left something to be desired, but it was early, and I was trying not to poke myself in the eye with my mascara.

The Ice Cream truck

I used to really despise the ice cream truck jingle. I don't like ice cream, as a rule, and it seemed to come around far too often. However, Marsha has introduced me to the wonder of the truck.

I heard it tonight. I decided to finally go get some. Aparently I waited a few seconds too long, because by the time I got a dress on and got to the street it was heading slowly down the block. I thought I could catch up with it. I picked up pace. So did the truck. I start jog/walking. The truck starts to really get going. The jingle is turned off. At this point, I decide looking dignified is a lost cause, so I wave my arms and say "Wait! Mr. Ice Cream man! WAIT!"

The truck ignores me. It turns down Riverside Drive. I decide the best course of action is to pretend that I'm NOT in fact following the ice cream truck, and just strolling along, following its path.

Alas, people have started to notice my quest for the truck. And heckling me. So I turn around, after about 5 blocks, and slink back to my apartment. At which point I realize, you can see directly into my bedroom window from the street.

I'll be buying a nightgown directly.

updates for today

I decided to change the format, in the hopes that I'd find the new one more inspiring. And I was going to post a picture on the side, and start the process of turning this into a "real" blog. Unfortunately, I am terribly intimidated by html, and recovering from a bout with the flu, and am not necessarily ready to learn something new.

I'm trying to get things in order in my life, bit by bit, but remain stuck on the apartment situation. It's incredibly uncomfortable to be here (for many reasons, many of which are my fault, and that I could fix if I had the energy). But, for some reason, it just feels impossible to deal with.

I'm terrible at confrontation, and beyond that, I'm at a loss as to what I would do even if the roommate situation were sorted out. My fridge and stove would still be broken, I would still have too much stuff to fit in the apartment, I still wouldn't have a regular schedule set.

So, it's easier to ignore this, and hide out in my bedroom, or at other people's apartments.

Pathetic, I know.