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The table...oh golly, that table makes me ridiculously happy! It's the perfect size--I've nudged it this way and that, and it's positioned so that I can maneuver around it to get at everything. I can take the milk out of the fridge and set it on the table, take something out of the microwave, ditto. The jumbo Britta filter is on the credenza and I can sit at the table and refill my glass, or fill a pitcher from the sink to pour into the filter without having to GO anywhere with it. It's directly under the light fixture, so the reading light is good, and its petite base offers room to tuck a small trashcan for loose ends. I went rummaging in one of my linen deposits and found a vintage tablecloth to toss over it--30's era Southwestern in red white and blue--a little holey, but at its age, it's earned the right!
Finally got to see Tag--what fun! If you've been on the fence because you thought it sounded like some cheesy buddy comedy ala The Hangover--it's not. If I had to compare it to something, I'd say it's more like Wild Hogs: There's some male mid-life crisis going on, but actual character development happens. Oh, and Jeremy Renner!
I swear, doing dishes has kind of turned into the story of my life--namely, the more I do, the longer breaks I need in between doing more...see, GK and I went to the movie, then came back to my place where we spent ONE HOUR working on the kitchen. We're talking about a space that's roughly 12'x12'. And 60 minutes, which isn't an inordinate length of time--one would think. But as mentioned re: last Friday's clean out, I was once again bombarded with about eight questions per minute. And she's into everything! If she sees a box or a bag with things in it, she wants to know what it is, why it's there, where am I going to put it--and wants an immediate decision on my part. Which is great for getting things cleared out quickly and keeping me on track--if my brain can't keep up and overheats slightly, well, that's just too bad.
I napped for several hours--up in time for Colbert!--and had a general tidying marathon afterward. I was up until 5 A.M. doing dishes, because I'd been putting it off...I wasn't *quite* out of clean ones, but the situation wasn't good. And because my back DOES NOT like standing in one place for any length of time, it took quite a while to empty the sink. Do a little, take a break...the breaks became progressively longer as the night wore on. But at last they were done, and I put away the ones that had easily identifiable places.
Which brings us to Wednesday, most of which I slept through. Seriously. I put away the last dish and crawled under the covers around daybreak, slept til noon, had brunch and meds, read for a little while and ended up going back to sleep, waking in time for 24 Hours to Hell and Back and Code Black (which is being cancelled, goddamn them!). This pattern repeated itself today (Thursday), when I lay down around dawn, was awake at 10, had breakfast and meds--but today, I got mostly dressed to go out. And when I say "mostly" dressed, it's because I was going for the mammo that Dr. Bitch insisted on, so I omitted my bra. Came home about two hours after I left and guess what? I slept for another four hours. My summer hours seem to be a split shift!
The tech gave me a peek at the images--everything looks perfectly normal, not that I was worried. It's nice to know that I have something that's normal! She (the tech) liked me, but then, with a very few exceptions, most medical personnel do. Over the years, I've developed shtick to charm them under the theory that if they like me, they'll try just that little bit harder to save my life. In this case it was the "I don't mind coming here, because you don't make me get on the scale!" line combined with "This is no big deal--but then, it's easier to squash a marshmallow than a grapefruit.". I used to call Mb a professional patient--now I'm one, too, and as with giving good phone, I've discovered that liberal applications of a sense of humor is essential to the whole process!
I haven't written anything this week*. Started one, did enough research to realize that my pivotal premise leaked like a sieve (because I know fuck-all about raising chickens), although I may be able to recycle part of what I learned into another story. Since GK seems to be preoccupied for the coming week (Thank fuck.), hopefully, I'll have more time/energy to spend behind the keyboard. Luckily, I haven't any more Doctor-type commitments until August.
Love to all!
* I got a sweet little fill for a prompt I left, here: http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/927014.html?thread=108545830#t108545830 (Ocean's 8)
...
Finally got to see Tag--what fun! If you've been on the fence because you thought it sounded like some cheesy buddy comedy ala The Hangover--it's not. If I had to compare it to something, I'd say it's more like Wild Hogs: There's some male mid-life crisis going on, but actual character development happens. Oh, and Jeremy Renner!
I swear, doing dishes has kind of turned into the story of my life--namely, the more I do, the longer breaks I need in between doing more...see, GK and I went to the movie, then came back to my place where we spent ONE HOUR working on the kitchen. We're talking about a space that's roughly 12'x12'. And 60 minutes, which isn't an inordinate length of time--one would think. But as mentioned re: last Friday's clean out, I was once again bombarded with about eight questions per minute. And she's into everything! If she sees a box or a bag with things in it, she wants to know what it is, why it's there, where am I going to put it--and wants an immediate decision on my part. Which is great for getting things cleared out quickly and keeping me on track--if my brain can't keep up and overheats slightly, well, that's just too bad.
I napped for several hours--up in time for Colbert!--and had a general tidying marathon afterward. I was up until 5 A.M. doing dishes, because I'd been putting it off...I wasn't *quite* out of clean ones, but the situation wasn't good. And because my back DOES NOT like standing in one place for any length of time, it took quite a while to empty the sink. Do a little, take a break...the breaks became progressively longer as the night wore on. But at last they were done, and I put away the ones that had easily identifiable places.
Which brings us to Wednesday, most of which I slept through. Seriously. I put away the last dish and crawled under the covers around daybreak, slept til noon, had brunch and meds, read for a little while and ended up going back to sleep, waking in time for 24 Hours to Hell and Back and Code Black (which is being cancelled, goddamn them!). This pattern repeated itself today (Thursday), when I lay down around dawn, was awake at 10, had breakfast and meds--but today, I got mostly dressed to go out. And when I say "mostly" dressed, it's because I was going for the mammo that Dr. Bitch insisted on, so I omitted my bra. Came home about two hours after I left and guess what? I slept for another four hours. My summer hours seem to be a split shift!
The tech gave me a peek at the images--everything looks perfectly normal, not that I was worried. It's nice to know that I have something that's normal! She (the tech) liked me, but then, with a very few exceptions, most medical personnel do. Over the years, I've developed shtick to charm them under the theory that if they like me, they'll try just that little bit harder to save my life. In this case it was the "I don't mind coming here, because you don't make me get on the scale!" line combined with "This is no big deal--but then, it's easier to squash a marshmallow than a grapefruit.". I used to call Mb a professional patient--now I'm one, too, and as with giving good phone, I've discovered that liberal applications of a sense of humor is essential to the whole process!
I haven't written anything this week*. Started one, did enough research to realize that my pivotal premise leaked like a sieve (because I know fuck-all about raising chickens), although I may be able to recycle part of what I learned into another story. Since GK seems to be preoccupied for the coming week (Thank fuck.), hopefully, I'll have more time/energy to spend behind the keyboard. Luckily, I haven't any more Doctor-type commitments until August.
Love to all!
* I got a sweet little fill for a prompt I left, here: http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/927014.html?thread=108545830#t108545830 (Ocean's 8)
...