the post that exploded

So last night I told my cold to suck it and went to see a Frightened Rabbit concert. Had the best of times imaginable and I’m so glad I went. Seriously, if these guys are playing anywhere near you, go see them. They do not disappoint. I got to hear a Scot say ‘grumpy’ and ‘chutzpah’, which is ADORABLE by the way. Best time I’ve had semi-sober and sitting in a balcony in ages.

However, this meant that I didn’t get home until almost one o’clock in the damn morning and I am now completely sleep deprived and punchy. So here are all of my thoughts about my day.

Reading Jenny Lawson’s amazing blog is inspiring me to keep better track of my own sorry blog. I’m hoping this will encourage me to write more. I got really depressed a couple of months ago and stopped writing all together. It was a poor choice. I’m feeling a lot better now and didn’t do anything stupid, so I’m trying to kick myself in the ass a little and get back to actually creating things. Other than hats. Which I can now make. I’m so glad I have opposable thumbs.

I started wearing a watch again for the first time since middle school recently. I’d sat on the purchase for a really, really long time because, while the watch is adorable and just punk rock enough to take me back to those bygone days of my high school Sex Pistols phase, it was far more expensive than any watch I have ever bought because I grew up in Central Illinois and we buy Wal-Mart watches there. This was a run-on sentence. But I have a spending problem, so I bought it. I am now wearing it all the damn time. Good purchase? Apparently so. But anyway, I have forgotten what it’s like to wear a watch. Cell phones aren’t allowed in my office during work hours, so I don’t have a clock on me at all times. I was in the bathroom a few minutes ago and happened to look at my wrist.

‘Holy shit!’ I thought, ‘It’s five past eleven.’

‘Holy shit!’ I then thought, ‘I’m in the loo and I CAN FIND OUT THE TIME.’

Clearly, I have mastered every part of modern civilization. Prepare for my robotic inventions to hit the shelves any day now.

I’m leaving town at the crack of dawn tomorrow to see the folks for a couple of days. Should be an interesting trip, full of emotions. This will be the first time I’ve been home since our beloved and constantly crabby cat Snowflake passed away. Not sure how empty the house is going to feel. This will also be the first time I’ve been home since my brother moved in with our godmother. Da asked if I wanted to help him move JPalm’s stuff. I laughed heartily. Mum will be rehearsing downstate all day Saturday, so I should get plenty of Chuck the Potions Master stories in. They are, as always, bound to be epic.

I just ate a whole bag of cinnamon Life because I’ve got the low blood sugar and/or sleepytime shakes. I make choices.

If you’ve followed this whole thing, please go buy yourself an ice cream cone. You deserve it.

a real florence nightingale

For those of you who have met me, you might already know that I get sick more often than a normal, 24-year-old person should.  This can be mostly attributed to my two obnoxious, pre-existing health problems: asthma and hypoglycemia.  The asthma ensures that I am completely debilitated every time the weather has an extreme change.  The hypoglycemia guarantees I am completely insufferable if I haven’t eaten in two hours.

How I still have friends is completely beyond me.

Autumn has decided to actually show up this year and temperatures took a pretty impressive drop in the past couple of weeks.  I had managed to stave off my usual season-change illness for some time, but Saturday night my body finally decided that This Bird Had Flown.  I don’t know if that actually makes sense in this context, but I’ve got a system full of Mucinex that says it does.  So now I find myself a coughing, phlegm-y mess and at my office, praying that the clock manages to speed up so that the next ten minutes pass in ten seconds and I can go home and curl up in bed.

My bosses have been out the past few days because they were honeymooning in sunny Florida.  Because of this, I have been working on both mine and my supervisor’s computer off and on since Thursday.  I know for a fact that boss has a weak immune system and, on the off-chance that what I have is actually contagious, I got out some sanitizing wipes to use on her computer now that it is the end of the day and I’m done working on it.  Then I realised that I had also man-handled the container the wipes come in, causing it to be potentially contaminated as well.  I have now reached a disconcerting paradox wherein even the sanitizing wipes are not sanitary because I have touched them.

I never expected proper OCD to feel so much like a Mucinex overdose.