I forgot about the kittens! Okay, tomorrow, remind me to tell you about the kittens.
Monthly Archives: June 2005
It’s fun having to think of a title for every post. I should have thought of that a long time ago.
Okay, I seriously cannot remember why I didn’t blog yesterday. In fact, I can’t remember anything about yesterday, it’s like Friday didn’t exist at all. Oh wait, I got something: I made soup. And there was no kindergarten, for some sadistically random reason – that would be why the day disappeared then. I fried my brain on constant contact with my four-year-old. God, I’m a terrible mother.
Anyway. Today I moved my office from the living-room up to my bedroom. I moved the computer up several days ago, parked it on a really low table and then had to sit on the floor and change position every ten seconds to keep my legs working. Yes, I still have that low blood-pressure/poor circulation thing, even though I quit smoking eight years ago. Anyway, today the desk came up, and a chair, and I removed the rugs and beat the dust out of them and vacuumed like a madwoman, and changed the sheets. Ooo, digression coming. Can’t…divert…aagh!
So cleaning, what is with that, huh? I get on these jags, I get so darn industrious, and scrub and tidy and organize, but my focus is seriously off. I mean, I do this all the time, right, guests are showing up in 5 minutes, there are piles of stuff all over the house, and there I am scrubbing the tile-grout behind the downstairs bathroom door with an old toothbrush. My priorities are totally skewed. Yes, I’ve been hysterically busy and stressed, so has Robert, so, for example, the floors in this house have not been vacuumed or mopped in, um, two weeks? Three? Something like that. Anyway, we have guests coming tomorrow, Robert sprained his left index finger yesterday and will not be able to help clean, and today I expended all this energy beating rugs and moving furniture and sorting papers and changing sheets, and my bedroom looks fabulous, if I do say so myself. But our guests are not going to see my bedroom. They’re going to see the rest of the house, which is still a total pit, I’m burned out on cleaning, and Robert’s wounded. I do this all the time, and I only ever notice it in hindsight. Duh.
Right. End digression. I did use my spiffy-clean bedroom/office to finish up that new request from L, mentioned a few entries ago – the thing I was stalling on. And make a good-sized dent in the final project for my database course; I’m trying to do a chunk of it each week, so when the course is over it will be mostly done, and I’ll only have to polish it a bit. It’s a big project, and would be too intimidating to take on all at once. I’ve also made a start on Robert’s publications database, so I feel like I had a pretty productive day.
Anyway. This was me taking a break. I’ll go back to the database for awhile and then very sensibly go to bed.
The blog-every-day thing isn’t really working out. I was actually pretty proud of myself earlier this week, I got my homework done a whole day early, so I was able to use the next day to finish up the Translation From Hell, and organized my notes from the AHF job – there is a lot to remember on this, and a lot of decisions I have to make by myself, so I’m constantly jotting down reminders in random places and then am later unable to remember which ones were important. So that was a lot, so I earned some TV-time – this is my geeky reward: if I get my homework done before 9:15 Tuesday night, I get to watch Desperate Housewives (in German). Chosen because there seems to be a lot of hype around it, and because the time is right, but I have to say I think I’m missing a lot of the plot points because all the men look so alike.
Of course, I can’t just watch TV, I also have to be Useful. Last week I folded 5 loads of laundry. This week I managed to iron two shirts in one hour. That’s pathetic, isn’t it? I didn’t make any mistakes, I have to go slow or I’ll iron wrinkles into the clothes, but still, 30 minutes per shirt seems um, excessive. Oh, our iron doesn’t do steam, so I have to squirt the clothes with a spray-bottle, could that be part of the problem? Maybe if I did it more than twice a year, got some practice, I could do it a bit faster.
So I went to Munich to work yesterday. Ran some errands first, in the most seethingly inefficient way you can imagine – I can’t go to this Body Shop, it has to be that Body Shop, much farther away, because they had that eyeshadow on sale, but no, you know, the stuff is practically invisible when I put some on my hand, why buy eyeshadow that can’t be seen, so forget it, so there was no reason to come here after all, the other, closer Body Shop had a lot more hair stuff, now I have to settle for the Amlika conditioner (what the hell is amlika?) when I really wanted the blueberry. I do everything this way. Because I’m insane, that’s why.
So then I worked. Robert’s eyes roll back in his head when I tell him about my job, so I’ll take that to mean it’s not very interesting. I won’t bore you with it. Then I went to Curry Night and watched the waiters try to out-macho the others (not me, obviously) with their super-insane-spicy food. It was actually pretty entertaining. But it was also someone’s birthday, and I really was going to leave and get some sleep around10:30, but everybody else was leaving too, and she didn’t seem to be done having her birthday, and then she said the “M” word (margarita) and from that point I was doomed. They were very nice margaritas, in a very noisy bar, and I was fine walking back to the office, it’s not like I was staggering into the 8 lanes of traffic Ludwigstr. has to offer at any hour of the day or night. So I really don’t know why I woke up at 4, at 7, and at 10 this morning with a mouth like the Mojave and the distinct feeling that my right eye was trying to dig a tunnel through to my left ear. I don’t know if it was what I ate, or what I drank, or just the staying up too late – hell, it could have been the weather. Whatever it was, it was…unpleasant. And I was out of money so I had to stagger to the bank and the cash machine was empty and the bankdude said no, I couldn’t withdraw money from my account, even though it was a branch of my bank, and I – hungover, possibly food-poisoned, pre-coffee – did not have the German to get the details on why. So I called Robert and he directed me to another bank and I got coffee at the Bad Place (the Newsbar, Mom will remember that – it’s gone way downhill) and burned my tongue and staggered back to the office and seriously thought about sleeping some more. But then I threw up in the sink and after that I felt much better, so I decided to go to work.
Isn’t it great that I freelance, and can go in whenever I want? If I’d had to be at work at 9, I might have left the Curry Night before it turned to margaritas (we went somewhere else for the margaritas, no, you can’t get margaritas at an Indian restaurant. Not in Munich, anyway) and missed out on that whole stellar experience. I also would not have run out of money and had to face a squeaky-clean and freshly-ironed bank employee while I was looking like this.
Unless it really was food poisoning, in which case I would have gone through most of that at the office. I’m sure my co-workers would have been very impressed.
Yeah. I should write every day. That would spare you having to read these marathon entries. Oh right, and MEGA congratulations to Heather and Steve. Baby Evan is too, too cute. Yay!
This column is too narrow, I’m used to thinking longer thoughts. I could shrink the typesize, but then some people might have to squint to read it, and that would be bad. I’m all about usability, man.
So things = under control. Sort of. Okay, not really. But I am learning to create an appearance of under-controlness, with a handy new technique I think I probably didn’t invent, called stalling. In fact, I think not only did I not invent it, I’m probably the last person on earth to figure it out, and that’s why everyone else makes this whole Life thing look so straightforward, while I’m always out of breath from trying to keep it all together. That’s what I think. But I’ve figured it out, and it seems to be working so far.
Robert’s translated the Text From Hell and it’s my turn to proofread it. I already sent it back to him once (hint: every sentence needs a verb. Yes, every single one), so I probably won’t be able to get away with that again. Busy With Homework is the current excuse.
L wants a new feature on the JOB site, one that will require like 20 new pages. Solution = easy: wait till Friday afternoon to email her that I’m not sure I understand, and request clarification, knowing she won’t get back to me until Wednesday morning. Check.
Homework. Okay, no way around that, I just have to do it, but I can use my B+ average (so far) to justify giving it a little less than my last drop of sweat, thank you very much.
The millions of other things on my to-do list? Conveniently forgotten. Okay, I didn’t say the system was perfect, but with a little refining here and there, I bet I can get away with a lot more than I do.
Today was the Sommerfest (summer-party, I guess) at the Sniglet’s kindergarten. We were talking about it this morning before Ignatz went to school, and the Sniglet called it the Sommerferien (summer vacation), so I told him no, the Sommerfest is today, the Sommerferien is in five weeks, and then he will have no kindergarten, and Ignatz will have no school, and I’ll spend the days banging my head on the floor. The Sniglet said, “Cool.”
Right, the Fest. Excruciating, as all organized kindergarten activities are. Okay, actually it wasn’t too horrible, they did a little skit based on The Very Hungry Caterpillar – the Sniglet was a slice of Swiss cheese – and it was fairly cute, although it wouldn’t have been less cute if it had been a bit shorter. Still better than last year, when they acted out some interminable story about a sunflower that had been written by one of the teachers. At the end everybody (parents too) had to sing the kindergarten’s official song, which had a bunch of shooby-doos in it, without being at all cool. I didn’t sing, because I never do, but next time I think I will. I’ll replace the shooby-doo with “shoot me now” and see who notices.
So I saw the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy today. It didn’t get very good reviews, which in a way is a good thing, since it brings expectations down a bit. I waited 23 years for this movie, and nothingshort of Armageddon would have kept me from seeing it. I figured I could just go in with lowered expectations, and relax and enjoy the movie, but I didn’t set the expectations quite low enough. It was…um, wispy, somehow. It’s hard to make a movie from a book, you have to take a lot of stuff out. And the thing about this movie was, it was really obvious that stuff was missing. I kept thinking there’s a good movie back behind there somewhere, but I’m only glimpsing bits of it. Maybe I shouldn’t have read the book 40 times, I dunno. Bill Nighy was great, of course, not that you’d expect anything less. But the rest of it was kinda disappointing. Oh well. Can’t win ’em all.
In other news, there is no other news. Except I’m about to try to talk Robert into letting us get a couple kittens. Wish me luck.