Reality Bites
Nothing kills all tiny little remnants of a vacation-induced afterglow quite like REALITY. Geoff went back to work last night - his first shift after vacation and, more notably, his first shift in two months because of his knee injury back in October. And today was my first day back at the office since our trip.
Of course, Briony chose not to have a nap yesterday afternoon and instead ended up hanging out with me (so of course, no work got done and she was just kind of generally clingy and miserable).
Of course, Briony was looking borderline sick all day yesterday.
Of course, Geoff and I were feeling borderline sick all day yesterday too.
Of course, Geoff ended up having a lousy night sick at work.
Of course, Briony + I ended up having a lousy night sick at home.
Of course, I couldn't take any good cold meds because I was home alone with B and needed to be alert-ish when she woke up and needed me.
Of course, I slept through my alarm this morning and then felt icky and sluggish and then couldn't find anything I needed to get ready because I haven't put on makeup, left the house, or didn't make it into work until almost 11.
Of course, I made myself pretty(ish) and dragged myself in for what appears to be NO GOOD REASON WHATSOEVER.
Of course, the pay machine in the lot where I usually park wouldn't read my credit card. I was so fed up at that point that I just scribbled a note that the machine was broken and left it under my wiper on my windshield. So of course, I can expect a ticket later :)
*sigh*
I'm determined that it's not too late to turn today around... I'm just not quite sure exactly how I'll accomplish that.
Labels: Bitching About Nothing, Briony, Mommy Stuff, My Life, The Boy, Working Girl
Sick as a Dog
I've been trying to just push through and deal with this without any whining or unnecessary drama, but I QUIT. This is Day Six of The Cold/Flu From HELL and I'm sooo sick of it.
I managed to power through the most essential birthday things this weekend, but it took everything I had. And now it's Monday. And I feel just a lousy as I did last week - maybe a little more lousy just because my ribs hurt so much from coughing.
As always, I went to bed last night optimistic about what today would be like - praying that I would be healthy, that magical elves would come and finish all my work during the night, and (for good measure) that I'd wake up looking like Scarlett Johanssen.
Boy, was I disappointed.
So my first meeting of the day has already been cancelled. My lunch plans have been postponed. My tea is brewing and I have two client deadlines to hit before noon today. And I think I've already set a record for Most Gooey Substances To Exit A Human's Head this morning (but I STILL CAN'T BREATHE).
WOOHOO.
Labels: Bitching About Nothing
A Poor Me Moment
Lots to catch up on - lifewise and blogwise - after this weekend. For now, I have another client deadline to tackle. And I'm working very hard to fight against feelings of 'poor me' that are threatening to creep in tonight. It just feels a little like my life has been The Suck lately, and I'm running around like a crazy person trying to get things unpacked, prepped, cleaned, sorted, planned, organized... and Geoff is lying on the couch watching cartoons. STUPID FREAK DANCING ACCIDENT.
Labels: Bitching About Nothing, My Life, The Boy, The Great Knee Catastrophe of 2010
The Weekend of Almost
So, I *almost* got to go out twice this weekend. We had some pretty cool stuff on the agenda, including an epic 30th birthday costume party and a social for two of Geoff's coworkers who are getting married next summer.
The reality? I've logged a lot of couch time watching TV and eating too much crap as we enter into Week Two of life with a sick toddler.
If you're looking for sound effects, I'd personally go with a deep, long SIGH right about here.
Here's hoping the 'banana juice' she started on Thursday decides to start working, and that we can start injecting tiny little pieces of fun back into our life again sometime very, very soon.
Labels: Bitching About Nothing, Mommy Stuff, My Life
Sick Day
My bulletproof positive attitude called in sick today.
Of course, today is also the day that the universe seems to have chosen to MESS WITH ME. And I am going to lose my $#^! here in about twelve seconds unless one measly good thing can happen before something else that's lousy does.
Quick! I want to hear your best joke in the comments section for this post... MAKE ME LAUGH.
Labels: Arthritis/Fibromyalgia, Bitching About Nothing, Happy Thoughts, One of Lindsay's Rants
No Nap Day
Yesterday was a No Nap Day - or VERY close to it. Not my favourite kind of day, if I got to pick (which I obviously don't). I eventually caved and let her watch TV on the couch for a while so I could get a little bit of client work done. But it's so hard to be made when this is the non-napping scene on your couch...
Labels: Bitching About Nothing, Briony, Mommy Stuff, Photos
Blech
Chasing clients for money is hands-down the WORST part of freelance work. Can't I outsource this? Or hire an assistant to do it? Seriously.
Labels: Bitching About Nothing, Going Rogue
Strange Men Who Live in Cupboards
I hate myself for even thinking to complain about this. Don't even waste your energy judging me. I've totally already judged myself. And I was MEAN. Because you know what's awesome? Being at a place in our lives where we've been able to afford to hire someone who comes to help clean our house.
Know what makes it even better? When 'Josy Day' lands at the end of a too-long flare up week, on a day that also happens to be the day before we're having some friends over to help celebrate my recent birthday. YAY for good planning that results in major stress reduction.
But what ISN'T awesome? The fact that I'm exhausted and very much in pain and seriously in need of sleeeeep... And I still need to do some quick decluttering so that Josy can actually FIND our floors and furniture to clean tomorrow.
Emphasis is on the word QUICK, of course. I am SO not that person who cleans before the cleaning lady comes. But I wish I could just get a robot or something. Or freaking MARY POPPINS. Who could come and live with us. FOREVER. And magically clean up rooms while singing and dancing and whistling. Hmmm...
Maintaining a home is something pretty much every mom I know struggles with. Nevermind the moms who also work. Nevermind the moms who also work who also deal with chronic illness. I think that some dude should pop his head out of a cupboard and slip a medal around my neck every time I manage to empty the dishwasher within 24 hours of turning it on. When that happens on a day when I actually cooked a healthy and nutritious meal for my family and/or did the laundry, he should do it while singing a theme song he's composed for such an occasion.
That's right. I WANT A THEME SONG.
Labels: Arthritis/Fibromyalgia, Bitching About Nothing, House Stuff, Mommy Stuff
Memo To Baby
I need to teach Briony how to read so she can read my MEMO TO BABY that explains the fact that we are now back in Winnipeg.
We are dealing with some incredibly tough bedtimes this week - and it's coming from a CHAMPION baby sleeper, so I feel terribly ill-equipped to deal with it. Then she's sleeping until 10 am every morning, which screws things up in a different way. I seriously feel like sitting down on the floor and either yelling or crying until someone brings back my perfectly scheduled toddler (that phrase was not an oxymoron in our house until JUST NOW).
Labels: Bitching About Nothing, Mommy Stuff
The One Where I Curse Marshall McLuhan
I've lived nearly 29 years - all of them in Canada and one third of them as a professional communicator - without reading Marshall McLuhan's classic
Understanding Media. I had to tackle a decent chunk of it for the course I'm taking, and I can now say that I could have happily lived another 50 or 60 years without reading it. Those epic 'the medium is the message' quotes are practically all that makes sense in this odd, rambling masterpiece.
It reminds me of required reading for my philosophy course in university. And not in a good way (because there is no good way). I'm taking most of my ideas from a combination of the forward to the book and Wikipedia. Whatever happened to Coles Notes? :)
Labels: Back to School, Bitching About Nothing
The One Where I Nearly Lose My &#*% at Starbucks
The entire population of chatty weirdos in Abbotsford is at Starbucks this morning. The same Starbucks where I am seriously trying to get some work done, away from my adorable but noisy eighteen month old and my husband who is annoyingly on vacation right now.
Here's the list so far (and I should note that I've been here less than an hour):
An older woman with a bowl cut and a rainbow scarf who sat down in the open chair beside me and talked to me AT LENGTH about how close our chairs were together ('It's so funny how they would put these chairs together. Our feet are almost touching! And we don't even know each other! They're really very close together...'). I finally moved mine.
An older man with a mullet and gold chain who immediately informed me that I was endangering myself by working on my laptop without a pad in between the computer and my legs. I smiled my thanks, and the advice just kept coming... Don't swim in public pools. Don't take a bath (but if you need to, stand up and shower right after). Only buy Rolex watches. And that was seriously just the tip of the iceberg.
Another older man with a mullet (REALLY?!) who had to tell me all about his own business success, his wife's success (she's a paralegal who types 165 words per minute... much faster than he had observed me typing, though I'm a pretty faster typist in his opinion), and his kids - including a son around my age who is currently trying to sell a screenplay he wrote about a man with a blood disorder who lives among vampires. Kill me now.
A kid in his early twenties who wanted to know if he could use my MacBook to do something with his broken iPhone. I said no, and he proceeded to tell me a five minute long story about how he just got it yesterday and let his daughter play with it and she pressed something she shouldn't have. I suggested bringing it to wherever he bought it from to see if they could help, and he said something about 'getting it off some guy'... Of course. Buddy, this is SO NOT MY PROBLEM.
Now the seat nearest me has been filled with an older gentleman wearing slippers (WHY GOD WHY) and a black, white, and emerald green knit sweater. He's eating a scone in such a way that his lips and chin are literally blanketed in crumbs... But he's sitting quietly and reading a newspaper and so I'll take him.
Back to work...
UPDATE 11:17 - Buddy with the iPhone came back to ask me AGAIN if he could use my computer to restore his iPhone. Said no again. Now slightly concerned that he'll come back and kill me. On the upside, Crumb Man is now doing a crossword! A glorious crossword that requires SILENCE and CONCENTRATION!
Labels: Bitching About Nothing, Going Rogue, Starbucks
The One Where I Channel My Inner Paris
It's cool to be your own boss and all, but what people don't always say about self-employment is that while you get to be your own boss, you also get to be your own assistant. This morning, I'm putting together a very basic project timeline and formatting it... It's not exactly rocket science, but super annoying to actually have to sit down and do.
This must be how Paris Hilton feels when she has to drive her own car or fix her own roots.
Labels: Bitching About Nothing, Going Rogue
Random Pet Peeve
Random Pet Peeve: People who ASK for comments on Facebook... Or whine about how no one is reading their blog anymore (in an effort, I assume, to guilt people into going to read their blog and then commenting on it to validate them).
I say this in love. No, scratch that. I say this unemotionally, as a marketing consultant. Which I totally am :)
If people aren't commenting - or aren't viewing your content in the first place - it's because you're not engaging them. You're pushing self-serving information at them and not encouraging them to apply your ideas to their own life. Or you're updating your blog so infrequently that you're losing your audience (rule of thumb is minimum 2 to 3 updates every week). Or you're writing about things that are completely irrelevant to them (and are probably going to land you on
STFU Parents, possibly submitted anonymously by yours truly - oh, I'VE DONE IT).
I type this with a smirk on my face, knowing full well that I break blogging rules all the time. I used to be *so* much better about reader engagement, back before I gave birth, that glorious season in my life when I slept enough to remember how to spell my own name. I've promised myself to do better this summer... But at the end of the day, this blog was meant to chronicle my life and really nothing else. It's something that I do for me - to journal, to think things through, to have a creative outlet during the weeks when I'm writing stuff at work that kind of bores me. The fact that you all visit and then take the time to comment and send me emails about what you've read and what it means to you is phenomenal and awesome and amazing, but it's not why I do it. It's a happy bit of icing on the cake.
But I'll bite :)
What is your random social media pet peeve? C'mon, you know there's SOMETHING about blogs or Facebook or Twitter that makes you absolutely insane... 1 - 2 - 3 - GO!
-
From CNN.com:
The 12 Most Annoying Types of FacebookersLabels: Bitching About Nothing, Blogging, Random Pet Peeve
Will the Real Lindsay Wright Please Stand Up?
I sent off my request for a form that will enable me to graduate after I complete my final course this summer... But I've just been informed that UVic has SEVEN Lindsay Wrights in their system who could potentially be eligible for graduation this year and they need more information to figure out who I am (and which form to send me).
I never want to hear a whisper about Briony having an unusual first name again. THIS is precisely why we did it.
Oh, and at work last week, I was introduced in a meeting as Lindsay Wright... the agency's WRITER. You could literally see the pun sink in as it was spoken before the snickers started.
I really need to insist on a different title.
I don't regret taking Geoff's last name when we got married. It's kind of pretty, it's a heck of a lot shorter than Hildebrandt (I have a middle initial on my driver's license for the first time EVER), and I like how it makes our little family cohesive.
But it is *incredibly* common. And - much more importantly - it turns me into a living, walking, breathing pun. I hate puns. Talk about taking one for the team.
Labels: Bitching About Nothing, Going Rogue, Married Stuff
It's Raining, It's Pouring
Some randomness on yet another rainy day...
I can't find my umbrella. What's the point in doing your hair in the morning when it's raining and you can't find your umbrella? Stupid. Talk about a wasted spoon.
I have a secret. I really like the days when I come into work. Of course, I miss Briony like crazy, but it's kind of fabulous to drink Starbucks + wear grown-up shoes + talk about smart things for a few hours at a time. It's always this huge deal to actually get myself out the door, downtown, parked, and into the office - but all the effort is so totally worth it when I get there. It's been such an amazing journey to discover that I still really love what I do.
Today was supposed to be Estate Planning Day, but the lady we were scheduled to meet with has the flu. I was REALLY looking forward to just getting it over with and crossing it off our list, but it looks like it will need to wait until later in the month.
This is seriously the flare that will not end... I am SO sick of feeling like shit. I spend most of every day fantasizing about swallowing a handful of pills, crawling back into bed, and staying there until next week.
I married someone great. I used to really freak out when I flared up, worrying about how it affected our relationship and thinking secretly that I wouldn't blame him at all for wanting out. But that's not Geoff. And it makes every flare up feel so much more manageable to just let go of that fear. I'm sure there are other girls with chronic illnesses who aren't as lucky.
Our dryer is not going to be fixed for at least another week. But that's fine. It's not like we have A BABY LIVING WITH US or anything like that. I get that this is an opportunity to be more environmentally friendly and all that jazz, but in case you haven't noticed, it's RAINING. And the whole clothes-hanging-everywhere-to-dry thing is getting kind of old. Actually, it makes me insane. And there are not enough anti-anxiety meds in the world to make me okay with it. (Mom, I'm bringing laundry over to your house after the weekend, okay? Thanks.)
The barista at Starbucks this morning knew my order. I know it probably means that we spend too much money at Starbucks, but I don't care. It made me so happy. And besides, this is totally why I work - to pay for all the fun stuff.
And speaking of fun stuff... We're working on finalizing plans, but in exactly one month from now, Geoff + Briony + I will be in Whistler for the weekend with Rob + Vicky + Ava. I am so excited. It's always so great to spend time with them (and when we spend the entire weekend together, it actually feels like we snuck in some quality time instead of just speed-dating-style conversation chunks in between running after toddlers). And what better place to hang out than Whistler? Looking forward to some beautiful scenery and lots of time to relax.
I've been missing my house key for two days and counting, and it has seriously been stressing me out. I just found it in my lunch bag, underneath the lining. OF COURSE (note the obvious sarcasm).
When Briony was born, we got a ton of cards. They're all in a basket in her room and she LOVES to play with them - especially because so many of them have pictures of babies and/or things that babies like. But her very favourite card is the one we got from Emily + Paul because it plays part of Louis Armstrong's 'What a Wonderful World' when you open it up. I've heard the same two lines of that song about a kajillion times because she'll just keep opening it and closing it to loop it incessantly. It would be annoying except that (a) it's kind of a great song, and (b) she has a special dance that she does just for this song, kind of swaying back and forth with a huge grin on her face. Even if I'm not in the room, I know exactly what she's doing when I hear the song playing. This morning, she was playing with it - and doing her special little dance - while we snuggled and she had a bottle. I had been super stressed about needing to get ready for work and considering handing her off to Geoff instead of doing the whole morning bottle thing, but it was exactly what I needed to put the rest of my day in perspective. The world really is kind of wonderful, isn't it? :)
Labels: Bitching About Nothing, Briony, Emily, Going Rogue, Married Stuff, My Friends, Rob and Vicky, Starbucks, The Boy
Briony Has A Superpower
Well, she probably has MANY superpowers... But the one that most concerns me today is the one that allows her to supernaturally SENSE when her daddy is working a night shift. Obviously, her natural response to the situation is to give me hell. Geoff was back for another night shift last night, and I will say that it was better than last time - but only because she managed one five-hour chunk of sleep vs last week's horrific two x two-hour chunks of sleep.
And of course, the second Dada walked in the door, she's all rainbows and unicorns. OF COURSE.
I'm trying *so* hard to be calm and patient and just roll with it because I know that she's teething and that this is NOT typical. But I SERIOUSLY need more sleep than this. My body is shutting down and we still have two more night shifts to go. And this is apparently supposed to be my 'weekend' - within an hour of Geoff finishing his third and final night shift, I get to go to work (because this is considered TIME OFF). Yippee.
Okay, thanks. I'm done now.
In the meantime,
this website is seriously cheering me up :)
Labels: Bitching About Nothing, Briony, Going Rogue, Mommy Stuff, Stuff I Found Online, The Boy
Toddlers + Teething + Deadlines... OH MY
I should just KNOW that on days when I use up my reserve
spoons, I'll find myself needing them before long.
After (over)exerting myself this morning, I've been dealing with a TODDLER here all afternoon. Briony's been rubbing her eyes since 11 am and she just now - finally - HOPEFULLY - is down for her first nap of the day. It's 100% teething, which makes it so hard because it's *so* not her fault. I fear for bedtime and what this late nap might mean, but I'm very willing to risk it right now.
It's just one of those Sunday afternoons when I really wish that I had a husband who is always around on weekends. Or at least one who leaves and comes home at normal times so that a 'work day' doesn't overlap ALL of Briony's day. Fighting with a teething toddler over naps while having a silent mental breakdown over all the client work I was supposed to be doing during her nap has exhausted me today... And I know that I'm on my own for bedtime still. I'm trying not to think about that part yet.
I think I can. I think I can. I think I can.
And even if today gets the better of me, we're less than four weeks away from Geoff having an entire month off - the grand payoff for these dastardly 12 hour shifts :)
Labels: Arthritis/Fibromyalgia, Bitching About Nothing, Briony, Mommy Stuff, The Boy
Gong Show
Today has been a series of ridiculous events, mostly related to parking in downtown Winnipeg.
Want a sneak peek? I submit these random moments for your consideration:
An underground parking lot this morning that gives out tickets even when the lot is entirely full. I finally snagged a spot after 20 minutes of circling. Awesome.
When I left, the parking attendant handed me back $2.00 in change... Change that included nothing larger than a quarter and involved large quantities of nickels, dimes, and pennies. Awesome.
An above-ground parking lot this afternoon that posts a rate of $8.00 in *change only* (no cash, because that would make too much sense). I counted out $8.00 and slid across the parking lot in impractical footwear only to discover that although the SIGN said $8.00, the MACHINE said $8.50. So it was back to my car (and then back again... and then forth again) for fifty measly cents. Awesome.
See what I mean? :)
I'm a pro at parking downtown - I've been doing it almost every day since I was 18 years old - and I usually find Winnipeg a very easy city to navigate parking-wise. But every once in a while, I totally lose. Today was (obviously) one of those days.
I only have to go home from here, but I'm seriously expecting some random obstacle in my parking spot behind the house.
Labels: Bitching About Nothing
Seriously?
I thought that vaccinations were supposed to make babies MORE sleepy?! I'm still waiting for the first nap of the day to happen... And I have a crapload of work to get done this afternoon. BOO.
Labels: Bitching About Nothing, Mommy Stuff
Oh, The Humanity
What was that I was saying about insomnia? Pay no attention to the time at the bottom of this post. Clearly, we are still dealing with side effects from The Pills. I'm working on it.
Anyway. This week, it's been all about my body - which does not work the way it's supposed to EVER, but has been a special kind of annoying to me lately.
The gallbladder drama continues... This week has been worse again, and I thought about it a little more than usual today because I know someone who's getting hers out tomorrow morning and I'd be lying if I didn't confess that I am green with envy. Is that weird? I'm completely jealous that she's getting her guts pulled out of an incision in her abdomen tomorrow morning. I realized this week that it's been nearly eight months since my first major attack. EIGHT MONTHS. Eight months where my best case scenario is constant discomfort and my worst case scenario is really, really nasty. I continue to hope that Canada will someday adopt a policy of semi-privatized healthcare because - seriously - I would LOVE to write someone a cheque to just get this done already. If that bill gets pushed through in the next decade, I'm sure I'll still be waiting for surgery.
Fibromyalgia. Arthritis. Chronic Fatigue. Blah, blah, blah... It's all kind of status quo around here. Which is maybe notable because by now - this close to the holidays - I should be starting my annual Christmas Flare. I'm working *so* hard to avoid it this year (just ask all my friends who have been permitted to socialize with me only after sitting through and then agreeing to my strict guidelines and delineation of personal healthy boundaries). Wish me luck! Them too, probably. Assuming they still want to be friends with me :)
I'll bet you thought that this entire post will be about things you already knew (and have heard me bitch about a hundred million times before). Ah, dear readers, don't be too quick to jump to conclusions. Never underestimate the evil powers of my body. Because this week - quite unexpectedly - I seem to have royally effed up my wrist. How? I'm glad you asked. And I can see why you might be wondering, given my propensity for extreme sports and drunken brawling (and combinations thereof). But the truth is that I have absolutely no idea what happened. It started hurting on Tuesday afternoon, and by today it was nasty enough that I actually went into public wearing a nasty ugly brace because it felt SO MUCH BETTER. I'm guessing that my chances of seeing my doctor in the next week are approximately equal to the chances of that lonely old Jehovah's Witness couple forgetting to make their monthly visit to us in January (THANKS AGAIN, GEOFF). So either my prayers for a Christmas miracle will come true and I'll be healed *or* I'm going to have to be on my toes throughout this festive season to ensure said fugly wrist brace will not be visible in any photos. Which should be super-easy seeing my sister is a photographer and my sister-in-law is in university studying photography.
Oh, don't worry. I totally have Real Problems. It's just sometimes easier to dwell on the ones like ugly wrist brace photos.
Labels: Arthritis/Fibromyalgia, Attack of the Gallbladder, Bitching About Nothing, WRISTSTRONG
