Tag: dryer

Don’t Stop the Music

Ah, it’s marvelous having a dryer again. And it’s an upgrade from the last one, which actually cost more, so winning on chore fronts here in the Lost Apartment.

Which says a lot about how spoiled I am. My grandmother used to wash the clothes in an agitator on her back porch that she had to fill with hot water and had a ringer to crush excess water out of the clothes before hanging them on the line. IMAGINE how long that must have taken, and how long it took for the clothes to dry in the heat and humidity of an Alabama summer when it could also rain at any moment without notice. Modern conveniences are quite marvelous, really, and I don’t think we appreciate how much time they actually do save us. Granted, I could load all the laundry up in the back of the car and go to a laundromat and get it all finished in about two hours; but that’s two hours where I would have to sit in a laundromat and either read/ or stare at my phone…and it’s never really quite comfortable in a laundromat anywhere. Also, the one around the corner closed due to the pandemic so yeah, I’d have to get in the car and take it somewhere, and have coins and all that nonsense; although I suppose with all the marvelous modern technology that has sprung up since the last time I went to a laundromat (when the washing machine was broken and we were waiting for its replacement) would enable people to use electronic payments? I don’t know, and I’d prefer to never find out, quite frankly.

But you know something? Sitting at my desk doing data entry to the washing machine agitating and the dryer tumbling and heating was weirdly comforting; a return to my normal Friday routine of chores and day-job duties–almost like the world has been slightly tilted off its axis for a while and has finally settled back into the way it’s supposed to be around here. I also wound up having to run my errands after work yesterday, because I remembered (fortunately, thank you, Facebook) that today is the St. Patrick’s Day parade, which makes access to everywhere I would need to go nearly impossible or an enormous time-consuming pain in the ass. So I picked up the mail and made groceries after I finished work yesterday, and will see about washing the car on Sunday (and possibly a trip to the Fresh Market, since it’s right there). Saturday will be my day of not leaving the house, which is probably for the best–although I do need to take clothes to the dry cleaners. Hmmm. They aren’t open on Sunday. Hmmm. *adds dry cleaning to Saturday to-do list*

I had to disassemble the bottom shelf of the laundry room so they could remove the non-heating dryer and install our new one, and once I finished my work for the day I started putting the room back together again–I have framed covers of my books on the walls in there, and I had taken those down too. I started putting the covers up not remembering where they were originally and I thought well, who wants it to look the same again for the next ten years anyway and so I just started hanging them wherever. The same with the books. I had to put the shelf back and then the books; so I started reorganizing and pruning, and then started working my way through the upper shelves to make it at least look neat, if cluttered. The fun thing about doing this sort of thing is you start unearthing treasures–“oh, there that is!” and “Oh, I’d forgotten about you!” and “oh yes, I still want to write that story this was research for” and “Oh, yes, definitely want to reread that sometime” and “Oh, I am so far behind on her series!” that makes it kind of like an adventure and less like an odious chore.

Plus, making it all neater looking to the eye pleases my OCD, and I can fold my arms with a smug sense of satisfaction when I look at them. Now if only I can accomplish the same in the living room…

I slept really well last night, and even stayed up later than usual. Paul came home last night (!!!) and we watched the LSU-West Virginia gymnastics meet, which was way fun, and then this week’s The Mandalorian. I did wind up staying later than I would have preferred–not sure how that happened, to be honest–but I feel very rested and relaxed today, which means I think it will be a good and productive day. Paul has his trainer later this morning and then will head off to the office, so I have the day to myself to clean and write and read and do Gregalicious things. Once I finish this I am going to repair to my easy chair with my coffee and Cheryl Head’s Time’s Undoing, which I am looking forward to finishing–it’s sooooo good–and getting my act together. This week I am seeing my doctor about my toe (appointment on Thursday afternoon) and I need to make the ENT appointment as well as try to get my dentistry needs taken care of, and I should probably make an eye appointment, too. Maintenance becomes increasingly important the older you get, you know. The toe is much better–still hurts, but not throbbing –and of course, by the time I see the doctor, it’ll probably be all fine and he’ll think I’m completely insane, not that he doesn’t already.

Most people do, at any rate.

But the new dryer just beeped which means the last load from yesterday has finished drying, and I am going to go fold some clothes, perhaps put some dishes away (there’s a load in the dishwasher, too, clean) and then read while I swill the rest of my morning coffee. Have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and I may check in with you again later.

S. O. S.

Work at home Friday and waiting on my dryer to be delivered and installed, which is quite lovely and exciting. Huzzah! I am probably going to be getting caught up on laundry all day once it arrives. There’s something zen about folding clothes, seriously. I do have to move some things around, but I have some time yet to enjoy my coffee and type this before they get here. I am really excited about my new dryer–but the one I am really looking forward to is the new refrigerator. The window period is 8:45 to 10:45, and if I remember correctly, once they are here they’ll be in and out in twenty minutes, tops.

It is sad how forward I am looking to doing some laundry.

I was tired again yesterday when I got off work, which is really par for the course this week. My body had that “relaxed-you-should-still-be-in-bed” feeling all day, and it was also a slower day without as many clients. The day just seemed to drag on endlessly, and then I came home to terrible exhaustion. I did start watching a documentary about Caril Fugate, The Twelfth Victim, which is interesting and i am looking forward to watching the rest. (I also love how one of the examples of the ‘simpler times’ which ended with whatever horrific true crime the show is about, they will always, always say “why, people never bothered to lock their doors!”) Was Caril a hostage or a participant? She was barely fourteen, and Starkweather was about four or five years older than she was; is it so hard to believe that she wasn’t a co-conspirator? But I need to watch the rest of the documentary to get a better idea of the facts of the case.

I am awake much earlier than I wanted to be; I had set the alarm for seven but woke up around five thirty, as usual, and finally gave up and got up around six thirty. I’ve cleaned off the bottom shelf in the laundry room and will probably need to take the shelf down entirely. I have to go outside and make sure the dryer will fit along the narrow footpath alongside the house and move things (garbage bins, planters) that might wind up being in the way. I may even have to roll the bins all the way back here to our little courtyard. I feel rested and well and relaxed this morning; last night, I must confess, was a little rougher than others have been this week, but Paul came home last night before I went to bed so I got to spend some time with him, which is rare and lovely when it happens this time of year. I do feel a bit of mental fatigue though; my emotions are still all over the place and I am still not entirely sure how I am supposed to be feeling, and what normal is in this situation; but I’ve also never been normal my entire life so why am I worried about it now? But today I am hoping, as I said, to get some cleaning and organizing around the house done today around and after my work-at-home duties, of which there are quite a few. The lack of a dryer, which has absolutely nothing to do with whether the apartment can be cleaned up or not, has made me feel off about the entire apartment ever since it broke; unsettled somehow, if that makes any kind of bizarre sense. But am I simply blaming that unsettled feeling on the dryer, when it’s actually part of the post-funeral grief still surfacing every now and then? Heavy heaving sigh. But I am looking forward to getting a lot done this weekend. I want to get the car washed and of course, as always, I have to make groceries at some point and pick up the mail (probably tomorrow, along with washing the car). I also need to drop books off at the library sale tomorrow, so I’ll need to be packing up some books today as well.

I also want to finish reading Cheryl’s book, which is quite marvelous and I’ve been itching to get back at it, irritated at being so tired when I get home from work that I can’t focus on reading it. I’ll make some time for it after I finish working today, and maybe I can get it finished tomorrow morning with my coffee.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. I need to get some stuff picked up and put away and of course go move things off the narrow walkway alongside the house. Have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader, and I’ll check back in with you later.

Umbrella

It’s funny, but the word umbrella is now forever linked to Tom Holland in my brain because of his brilliant lip sync of it.

I overslept this morning; I hit snooze when the alarm went off and the second time, I usually turn it off and get up. This morning I turned it off and fell asleep again. Fortunately, I woke up ten minutes later so no harm to my day, other than the off-balance feeling that comes from it not being the usual get up before dawn morning. (I easily could have slept another two hours, at least.) Tomorrow my work-at-home day will be built entirely around the delivery of the new dryer; they’re supposed to call me tonight to give me my “two-hour window” period for planning purposes. On the one hand, I kind of hope it’s early so I can get it out of the way and start catching up on laundry; on the other I kind of want it to be later so I don’t have to get up early yet again tomorrow. My coffee seems to be working, though; my brain is alert even if most of my body is still relaxed into sleep mode.

I made groceries yesterday on the way home from the office, and I broke down and bought some frozen Lean Cuisines to bring for lunch, as back-ups for when I don’t want to cook anything or things get out of whack the way they have been lately. Yesterday I brought a salad and by the time I got off work was so hungry I almost felt sick; naturally, by the time I shopped and got home and put everything away the hunger had gone away. I did empty the dishwasher and refill it to run another load; I still have some dishes in the sink and so hopefully tonight I will get the dishes caught up. I’m sure deliverymen have seen apartments in much worse shape than ours, but I still don’t want it to be disgusting when they bring the dryer tomorrow (really glad I cleaned out from behind the dryer when I had it moved; I should do that more than every seven to ten years, probably). Scooter of course wanted a warm lap and didn’t really give me much chance to get things done before the howling commenced, and he pretty much spent the entire evening in my lap. I know he’s missing Paul, who is hardly ever home in these weeks leading up to the Festivals, which is yet another reason I always commute between the hotel and the Lost Apartment over that weekend.

I turned in a story yesterday for an anthology that I am not entirely sure it’s right for, but I like the story and would love to see it finished and in print at some point. I also started pulling together another short story collection yesterday–just to see how much material I had and how much new material would be needed, and lo and behold, the collection currently sits at 72, 143 words without an introduction or conclusion; the sweet spot is always between 80 and 100k words. So, apparently not much more is needed; as little as two or as many as five to six stories, or one single novella. It’s going to be called This Town and Other Stories, and I also realized yesterday that, like Daphne du Maurier, the category of fiction where my short stories fall is macabre–a combination or cross between horror, suspense, and crime. (Maybe the title should be This Town and Other Macabre Tales?) It felt good to turn the story in–even if it’s wrong for the anthology–because I also had to edit and polish it before turning it in, and it felt good to be doing that kind of work again. I want to get a lot done this weekend–going to make lists for every day to keep me on track like I did last weekend–and will probably try to get any and all errands finished on Saturday so I can relax, sleep in, and just hang out around the house working and doing stuff on Sunday. I’m beginning to enjoy my weekends again, because while yes, I have a lot to do and a lot to get done, it’s nice to not feel stressed on my weekends with the sense of impending doom just out of sight–but visible out the corner of my eye. It’s nice to get relaxing sleep and rest for a change.

The toe is still painful but now I can walk without limping or wincing. I’m aware of it, and of course the longer the days goes and the more I walk on it the more it starts hurting–I made it till almost bedtime last night without limping–but I am seeing my doctor next week. If it is either psoriatic arthritis or gout, at least there’s treatment and medication options. I already take enough medication that I am hesitant to add more to the mix…but then again, I am over sixty and have never taken care of myself so I should be grateful that there are still treatment options.

Tonight after work I am going straight home. The mail can wait until tomorrow, and I don’t have any other errands that are necessary before Saturday, anyway. I hope to put away the dishes, do another load, and possibly even start doing some laundry. I know there are at least two loads of clothes that need doing (always a joy) and I can still use the dryer in the carriage house–and since the toe isn’t so bad, walking over there and climbing the steps to the second floor isn’t as bad as it was. I want to read more of Cheryl’s book so I can write about it here (as well as start preparing for the panel I am moderating), and I need to get back to writing and editing and all of that fun stuff.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Thursday, Constant Reader, and I will check in with you again tomorrow.

This Town

And here is it Sunday.

I woke up yesterday around eight, with the positive attitude I went to bed with on Friday night virtually intact. I felt very rested and ready to go, and it was lovely to come downstairs to a kitchen/office that was already very well organized and not needing a whole lot of additional work to look, you know, presentable, which was very lovely. I made myself coffee, posted yesterday morning’s blog, and then spent some time cleaning out my inbox and writing emails to send off on Monday morning (I do not send emails on the weekends; emails beget emails and the weekends are, at least in my case, about multi-tasking and getting things done as well as getting rested, and emails are always a stressor.) I was also quite pleased with the job I had done on the living room as well; it still needed some more work, but the Lost Apartment is starting to look…habitable again? I know, I know, stop that crazy talk already, right?

I also ordered our new dryer, which will be delivered and installed on work-at-home Friday, thus ending the dryer drama that’s been going on for well over a month or so; I think it started when I got home from Wetumpka? I don’t know, but I think that’s what happened–the load of clothes I took to Alabama that weekend wouldn’t dry, and that was that. I also realized that this past weekend was the first weekend this year I’ve had a chance to really relax. In January I was killing myself writing a manuscript, then I turned that in and went to the library events in Alabama that weekend, and then of course the Mom stuff started. I was actually in New Orleans last weekend, but I was still dealing with the initial shock and loss after the funeral that weekend. This was my first kind of free weekend this year. Yesterday morning I spent some time reading Cheryl Head’s new release (it’s very good, for the record), and then spent some time on my own work for a while. I also cleaned and organized and filed a lot, too. Today I have to make groceries, but am probably going to do that this morning after perhaps a second cup of coffee, primarily to get it out of the way more than anything else. I have a lengthy to-do list for today as well, and hope to get some decent reading time in, too. (Hilariously, I looked at the delivery window for the dryer and it’s 7 am till 9 pm–now that is a delivery window!)

I feel well rested this morning. I was dozing off in my easy chair last night around nine, and while it was still relatively early, decided you might as well go ahead and go to bed if you’re falling asleep rather than stay up just to stay up, and there was definitely some wisdom in that thought so I went up to bed around nine thirty. I think my body clock has sadly, and finally, shifted to being used to getting up early and going to bed before ten. This is not something I am thrilled about, I must add. But it’s life, one supposes, and must adjust accordingly. I must say I miss the days when I could sleep until noon. But those days are long in the past now, I am afraid. I like this make a to-do list for every day of the weekend thing I started this weekend; I made a list yesterday morning of the things I wanted to get done yesterday; I got most of them done, and so hence I made a similar list of the things I want to get done today, which will then extrapolate into the to-do list for the rest of the week. I’m getting organized again, people–and I think what I was actually feeling yesterday was the relief of feeling almost on top of everything again for the first time since 2020.

I also finally watched All That Jazz last night, at the suggestion of a friend, and I have to say I was a lot more impressed with the movie than I thought I would be. I wasn’t much into Bob Fosse when I was younger. It took me several viewings before I finally saw Cabaret for what it was–and I don’t think it was a coincidence that it took the 2016 election before I realized and recognized the movie’s message and came to appreciate it as the classic it actually is. (I also greatly enjoyed Fosse/Verdon when it aired.) Who knows? Maybe in my old age I am finally beginning to appreciate musicals? This morning I am going to enjoy my coffee for a bit, read for a little while and then make that grocery run to get it over and done with, then coming back home to put the food away and get cleaned up and take a shower and get back to work. I do have a load of laundry to wash here and then lug over to the carriage house to dry (the last time I will have to do this, huzzah). I also have a bit more organizing and filing that can be done (my computer files are an epic disaster area and probably always will be), and there’s always cleaning that can be done. I need to pack another box of donations for the library, and probably need to clean out some more beads to be donated, which I’ve been meaning to do since last Mardi Gras; as always, there’s always plenty of things that need to be done around here. I also framed some things that should be hung at some point, if only I knew where to put them. And if the weather’s nice next weekend, maybe I can do the windows? It’s been years since I’ve cleaned the windows, or so it seems.

And on that note, I am going to go read for a bit while elevating and icing my toe, which still aches a bit. I hit it accidentally yesterday when moving one of the trash bins alongside the house and holy Mother of God did that hurt like a motherfucker. I’m beginning to think it is gout. But one of the things I need to put on the list for this week is getting in touch with my doctor about the toe. Who knew gout was even still a thing? I assumed it was something we had renamed or something, but no, it’s still a thing, just not as common as it used to be. And apparently one of its triggers is emotional stress. Gee, wonder if I’ve had anything like that lately? Heavy heaving sigh. But I’d like to at least get this taken care of before Saints and Sinners, you know?

And on that note, I am repairing to my easy with Cheryl’s book and an icepack and the pillows needed to elevate said foot. Have a great Sunday, Constant Reader, and I will check in with you again later.

You Can’t Walk In Your Sleep (If You Can’t Sleep)

Saturday!

The bad news is that the dryer’s issue wasn’t the thermal heating fuse, alas. I did manage to get the back off the dryer so I could replace said fuse, but even once I’d accomplished this feat, there was still no heat. So the problem is with the heating unit itself, and after pricing that, seeing how long it would take to get it in (assuming I could do it myself, but I watched a video and frankly, not comfortable with that)…I don’t think it’s worth me trying to accomplish. Realistically, we would need to call a technician/repairman whatever (minimum $200 just for showing up), and since the part also costs almost $200, it would only take another few hundred bucks or so more to get a new one. (Our dryer is 11 years old; dryers traditionally last on average, per Google, 7-10 years so we got more use out of this one than the last one.) Disposable society, remember? And if we get it from Costco, everything is included–delivery, installation, hauling away the old one–so….I guess we’re getting a new dryer at some point. Yay. We’ll also be getting a new refrigerator, too, at some point, probably after the Festivals are over. Hurray for new appliances.

Sigh.

But I’m proud of myself for at least trying to repair the dryer myself, and I am kind of proud that not only was I able to move the thing by myself but I was also able to take it all apart and put it all back together again without any issue or problem and it was much easier than I would have ever dreamed it would be. I suppose that comes from my longstanding feeling of not being particularly or especially masculine, so things like appliance repair and so forth seem like they’re out of my wheelhouse; primarily because I was always told I was clumsy and fumble-fingered and not dextrous at all, when the truth is I can pretty much do anything I want to do, if I put my mind to it and want to do it badly enough. (My mom was like that, too–she could literally do anything she decided to do. She decided to play golf, took some lessons and started winning golf tournaments. I was always terrible at golf, but like tennis–if I took lessons, wanted to do it badly enough, and put my mind to it, I’d probably be decent at it.) And now we have a definitive answer: yes, indeed, we need a new dryer. And I feel much better about spending the money because I tried to fix it and couldn’t because what needs doing was beyond my skill set comfort level. The heating coils and unit are too complicated for me, and they’re also too expensive to risk buying and then fucking them up–and I would be livid if I spent that money and fucked it up.

I think it’s also important to recognize one’s limitations and plan/live accordingly.

After failing to fix the dryer (but tried! I tried! I get credit for trying!), and sank into my easy chair to give Scooter a proper cushion to sleep on, I started the usual flipping through Youtube videos and began finding myself falling into a proper malaise and panic about any and everything and the usual spiral down into the pit of despair and I grabbed my spiraling brain with both hands (properly cleansed and sterilized first, of course) and said no you’re not going to do this snap out of it and get to work and I popped out of my chair and came into the kitchen and started. I filed, I created new files and put ones away; I put things that need priority attention this weekend into the nearest inbox; put books away and wiped down counters. I reorganized books in the laundry room and found places for things. I threw things away that were no longer of need, unless I need dusty things lying around, which I do not. I swept the living room and put things away and straightened up in there. I made a plan of action for today which I plan to stick to resolutely. And if I should start feeling lazy, or take a break that begins to turn into something longer and perhaps counter-productive, I plan to slap myself silly until I snap back out of it and dive back into, if not writing, then at least rereading and editing along as I go. I am way behind, way off schedule, and I can still get what I need and want to get done this year as long as I don’t allow distractions and other things draw my focus away from where it needs to be. I will still continue being kinder to myself than I have been most of my life–that horrible self-criticism default and dreadful little voice in my head seriously can go fuck themselves–because I don’t think I need to be so hard on myself to drive myself anymore. I am not the “loser” I was convinced that I was for so long. I don’t have to keep proving my worth and my value anymore. I may not be the best person that I can be–I can be a judgy bitch, without question or doubt–but I am competent and efficient and I work very hard and can produce good work.

I don’t need to prove anyone wrong anymore.

That was a lovely realization to come to, and I am glad that I had that lightbulb moment last night. I also know that I am probably still overly raw emotionally and in the midst of the inevitable mood swings that come in the wake of grief. I remember how it was after Paul was attacked, and after Katrina; there were good days and there were bad days, but the good days eventually began to outnumber the bad and things got better. And that’s how life works, isn’t it? (How profound.)

So, this morning I am going to drink coffee and after sending some emails, I will spend a couple of hours with Cheryl Head’s Time’s Undoing. After that I will get cleaned up thoroughly and get to work on my own work, which I will do (whilst cleaning around the writing and editing and revising) until five or six o’clock in the evening, at which time I will finish for the day and make Swedish meatballs for dinner. That sounds, to me at least, like a lovely plan. I hope you also have a lovely Saturday, Constant Reader, and I will check in with you again later, or tomorrow; one never knows, does on?

Automatic

Friday and working at home. I slept in a bit–almost to eight–but of course, the primary problem of getting up at six four mornings per week has of course trained Scooter that he gets breakfast at six every day, so at six every morning if he hasn’t been fed he raises holy hell. For a sweet cuddlebug of a cat, he can certainly yowl quite loudly when he puts his mind to it. So I got up and fed him before going back to sleep for another hour or so. I feel rested this morning, which is quite lovely when you are heading into a weekend with lots and lots to do; it’s nice to not feel tired in such a situation. I am going to try to fix the dryer this morning before I start working–wish me luck–and of course, the Lost Apartment, as always on Friday, has become a disaster area over the course of the week. But the weekend dawns anew, and so maybe, just maybe, I can maybe even get sort of caught up on what I am behind on?

Perish the thought, perchance to dream.

I am also looking forward to digging into Cheryl Head’s Time’s Undoing, which looks fantastic and I’ve been itching to read since I first learned of it, and of course, Bobby Mathews’ Living the Gimmick, which I am also excited to dip into. So many good books on hand to get through, so little time. Heavy heaving sigh. And of course, if I fix the dryer and it actually works–I am very nervous about this, as one can probably imagine; but I am equipped with Youtube videos to help and I do think it’s kind of sad that I am so unskilled with tools and so forth. The three things I wish I could do over? I wish I had taken Auto Shop and Typing in high school, and I wish I’d learned how to build things with, you know, hammers and wrenches and so forth. I hate not being able to feel confident about doing simple repair work, like replacing a fuse in a dryer (which may not be the issue with the dryer, but this is the only thing I can potentially do myself without calling in a repairman, at which point it’s probably less expensive to simply replace it–which is disgusting. We’ve really become, over the course of my life, a disposable society where it’s easier and less expensive to simply replace something rather than get it repaired), but I am also looking at it this way: even if the fuse wasn’t the problem–and I do think that’s what it is–if I can successfully move the dryer out, disassemble the back, and replace the fuse, I am going to take that as a win even if that doesn’t fix the problem, because at least I tried before simply replacing it.

Today feels like it might be a good day. Grief isn’t linear, as I am constantly being reminded by those who have been through this already, and I also instinctively know that; I can remember other traumatic life events in the past being this way; one day or two is a good day, then you have a low, shitty day, and so it goes, on and on ad nauseum, ad infinitum. I also kind of feel like I can actually get something written after work tonight? I do have some errands I need to run at some point later today–which is always exhausting–but I think I can get away with staying in most of the weekend. I do want to wash the car and vacuum it out; I’ve put nearly three thousand miles on it in February, so there’s a lot of wrappers and trash and debris in the floorboards, plus dirt tracked in from rest stops and so forth. I want to be better about taking care of the car, if that makes sense? I am doing a great job with it as far as maintenance (the fact that newer cars don’t require as much regular maintenance as the old ones I am used to is an enormous help in that regard) is concerned, even having the tires rotated regularly. The car is dented and dinged up, and perhaps someday I will get those dents and dings repaired, but on the other that does not keep the car from functioning properly and therefore that’s not a priority for me. Maybe someday, but certainly not now.

Ugh, the kitchen/office is such a disaster area. I really need to do something about that…and that is probably the proper and best way to transition over into the spice mines. Have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader, and I’ll check in with you again tomorrow morning.

We Got the Beat

Thursday and my last day in the office this week. Woo-hoo?

I slept really well again last night and feel very rested. Yesterday was a good day; today feels kind of like it might be one, too. I suppose we shall simply have to wait and see how it all plays out, won’t we? But when I got home last night I felt pretty good. I picked up my copy of Cheryl Head’s Time’s Undoing, which I really want to spend some time with this weekend, since I’ve been looking forward to reading it once it was announced to be forthcoming. Cheryl’s a terrific writer and a wonderful person, and it has been a pleasure and joy watching her career take off since we first met all those years ago.

I didn’t get much done last night, nor did I even get to read much either; not sure what happened to last evening once I got home, to be honest. I know I worked on the dishes for awhile, but never finished. Scooter was, as always, feeling needy and screaming for attention, and once I get in the easy chair and he starts sleeping/purring in my lap, I’m a goner. I know I watched a lot of Youtube videos but I honestly can’t remember doing much of anything other than going down Internet wormholes on my iPad. Today I believe is a slow day at the office, which should help me get caught up on things I am behind on there, and of course tomorrow is my work-at-home day. Tomorrow morning I am going to try to replace the dryer fuse–I do remember debating about trying to do this last night and finally deciding not to try, because of the extreme frustration that would result from that not being the thing that is actually wrong with the dryer, plus it’s not going to be terribly easy to begin with; I have to pull the dryer out from where it is snugly place beside the washing machine in a very small laundry room; it has to come all the way out and be turned around so I can access the back of it (I am dreading seeing what it looks like behind and beneath the dryer), which is going to be an irritating pain in the ass.

And of course, there’s always the chance Scooter will go back there and won’t come out. Heavy heaving sigh. But I am looking forward to being in New Orleans this weekend, and I am starting to feel a lot better about everything. It still sneaks up on me now and then–when people offer condolences, it becomes problematic as I tend to choke up when talking about it with people face to face–but when I am on my own, I tend to be able to handle it without breaking down, if that makes sense? It’s when I talk about it with kind people that it overwhelms me; I know they are trying to be a comfort and it’s coming from a very good place…but it’s rough. Everything’s rough, really, and I’m still trying to figure out everything and processing it all. I am definitely not over it yet, acceptance is beginning, but it still sneaks up on me from time to time.

Sorry to be so dull and keep going on about it. It is what it is, after all, and no amount of moping or sadness is going to change anything. I do think I need to spend some time writing about my mom, though; writing always helps, and fictionalizing things is always the best way for me to handle things that happen to me. Writing my essay “I Haven’t Stopped Dancing Yet” and Murder in the Rue Chartres was enormously helpful to my healing process in the years after Hurricane Katrina; even last night as I was thinking about the Title IX issue in my old school district in Kansas (which I am becoming more and more obsessed by) and thought, you could write a book about this, and from the perspective of a queer adult from that school district who goes down a rabbit hole after his mother dies and…

Kind of pulled back a bit from that one as it developed, but it’s not a terrible idea.

And I already have so much else to write on the agenda. I’ve got to get these two manuscripts revised, I need to move on to Chlorine and the other one I have in progress, and of course I wanted to get all those novellas finished this year and I don’t think that is going to happen unless I get out of this malaise and affix my nose to the grindstone again. And there are short stories I need to get written.

Okay, on that note I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Thursday, Constant Reader, and I will check in with you again tomorrow.

Skidmarks on My Heart

Wednesday and somehow it’s pay-the-bills day again, but it’s also the first of March. February was clearly a write-off for me on almost every level, so March is going to have to be a “get your shit together” month for me. I am hoping that I will get a lot done this weekend, too. Fingers crossed, at any rate.

I went down a wormhole the other day; I’m not really sure how I wound up where I did, but I know I was thinking about places I’d lived (the Mom thing again) and so was looking at our suburb in Chicago, the county in Kansas, and so forth. So you can imagine my shock and surprise when I came across an article about an eighth grader in my old school district in Kansas being victimized by homophobia. (Homophobia in Kansas doesn’t surprise me–I experienced it first hand for five years–but what surprised me was an eighth grader in my old school district is an out lesbian. Long story short, kids on the bus were being kids on the bus (I do not miss riding the bus) and swearing, etc. At some point there were some slurs being tossed about, and as the young girl responded, “There’s nothing wrong with being a lesbian. I’m a lesbian” at a time when the bus had one of those moments where everything goes silent for a moment. The bus driver, being garbage, thought that was horrifying (as the security videos from the bus later showed, said bus driver had no problem with junior high and elementary school kids yelling fuck and asshole and faggots and the n-word; no, the girl said lesbian so she must be punished. The school district didn’t even review the tapes, and despite having a three-strikes policy for bus riders; decided her saying lesbian was three strikes and she was banned for a week from riding the bus. The family appealed to the principal,. who refused to even review the tapes; the family went to the school board and the press–and it became a thing. Cheerleaders at my old high school wore rainbow ribbons in their hair to show support at games (way to go, cheerleaders!) and parents and teachers got involved. A library aide who was giving out rainbow pins at my school was fired; which triggered resignations from the teaching staff. Finally, the ACLU got involved, and the principal–who was being transferred in a big promotion to Emporia High–and the bus driver were terminated, and the school board rescinded the principal’s job offer at Emporia High. The eighth grader did eventually switch schools, but finally got justice of a sort.

And shortly thereafter, she went missing. There are no news reports that she’s been found since she was reported missing, which is heartbreaking and sad.

And of course, my mind started whirling about another Kansas book for me based on this story. But I don’t have a title for it…and I can’t write anything without a title. But I have a lot of other things I need to do before I can even think about writing this book, but I can start doing research when I have a spare moment or am too tired to read or focus on a movie or TV show.

And at least I am thinking creatively again, which feels lovely. I’ve been rather listless since getting back to New Orleans, but I am hoping that settling back into my daily routine of getting up in the dark and going to the office every day will snap me back into my reality. I’d like to wash the car and clean it out this weekend, and I should probably do more cleaning up around the house this weekend. I want to start eating healthier than I have been (my weight has been out of control for far too long) but I also know that I need to start exercising more. I think I am going to start doing crunches and stretching every day while waiting to find out what’s the deal with my big toe (reasons to succeed, not excuses for failing). I think I may go to Urgent Care on Friday morning before work–on the other hand, I could also go tonight; they’re open until 8…but I also don’t want to take a chance on having to go somewhere this evening for X-rays, either. Heavy sigh. Why am I so bad at making decisions for my personal life? Why do I actively avoid making decisions in my private life?

Probably because I have such a shitty track record with decision making. What can I say? It is what it is.

At least I slept well last night. I was exhausted when I got home yesterday. The dryer fuse arrived in the mail yesterday but I was too worn out to bother with trying to move the dryer and fix it; that will be a chore for Friday morning, methinks. I did finish a load of laundry in the carriage house last night and emptied the dishwasher, preparatory to refilling it…but I got so tired standing at the sink washing the dishes that I gave up part of the way through and left them to soak until I get home tonight, which should make washing them all that much easier. I did provide Scooter with a sleeping lap while I watched some documentaries on Youtube; don’t ask me what they were because I don’t remember a whole lot of them (I told you I was tired last night) but I know I watched some of History Guy’s biographies of past presidents–definitely Benjamin Harrison (we have the same birthday, over a century apart–but I’m also not sure what else I watched, either. I tend to mindlessly scroll through social media on my iPad while I am sitting there watching the videos so that could also have something to do with it. I’ve also decided that my next read with be Bobby Mathews’ Living the Gimmick (I think that’s the title; I know it’s verb the Gimmick), which is set in the world of professional wrestling in Alabama, which should be very interesting. I read the opening paragraph last night and really liked it, so hopefully when I get home tonight I won’t be too tired to watch. I know Paul won’t be home early enough to watch The Mandalorian tonight, which means I have to avoid spoilers everywhere until this weekend when we will be able to watch.

But today I feel rested and wide awake and ready to go; we were also terribly busy yesterday at the office; the first time in years we’ve had a full schedule of someone booked every half hour (we went back to the old “someone every half hour” in January), so I was rather hopping yesterday at work, and being so tired really didn’t help; although I did get a jolt of adrenaline at some point that rode me through the afternoon until I was completely exhausted at the end of my work day.

And on that note, I am going to head into the spice mines. Hopefully tonight, I will have the energy to get things done that need to get done and be productive again. Have a great Wednesday, and I’ll check in with you again tomorrow.

Tonite

Getting back to reality was very strange yesterday.

Obviously, I had work to do–I’d been out of the office for over a week and yes, my data entry and uploading and everything was way behind; but fortunately it was also Carnival time so we weren’t all that busy in the clinic during my absence. But it felt very strange being in the office again, like I hadn’t been there in years, which is of course patently absurd on its face. It only seems that way, and let’s face it, I’ve not been good with days and dates for quite some time now, if we’re going to be completely honest, which is something I am trying much harder at these days. Although honesty isn’t always the best policy (“oh what an adorable baby!” is always better than recoiling and saying “yikes!”, even if the second option is probably the most correct one), the truth is so much easier to keep track of–but then again, do you remember the truth? Our memories are colored by our perceptions and biases, and we often rewrite our memories to make ourselves look better than maybe we actually were at the time. I don’t quite trust my memories as absolute truths anymore.

I came home and did a few things, finished reading Abby Collette’s charming Body and Soul Food (more on that later), and then I basically sat in my chair thinking for the rest of the evening, until Paul took a break and we watched the final episode of the first season of Class. It’s so interesting, as the story-lines and characters are essentially the same as season one of Elité, but with enough tweaks and changes, some of them cultural, to make it very interesting. I also wound up going to bed early, which was kind of nice. I didn’t sleep great last night–I kept waking up, and often had trouble falling back asleep–and I know we’re going to be busy in the clinic today, too, which is going to be a challenge–so we’ll see how it goes. My fuse for the dryer is supposed to arrive today as well, so if it does and I am not too tired when I get home from the office, I may go ahead and attempt to see if I can get the dryer to work again. If it doesn’t, well, we’re going to have go get a new dryer to go along with the new refrigerator we’ll be getting once the festivals are over.

I just plan on trying to make it through today, really. Paul probably won’t be home until very late again tonight, and so I will inevitably end up in my chair to make a bed for Scooter, so I can use my cat-bed time to read and ice my toe and keep it elevated. It’s not nearly as swollen or painful as it was, and I did leave a message for my doctor yesterday to see if I should get it checked out; I thought about making an appointment but then decided to opt for the message route–mainly because the appointment times were really inconvenient, not soon, and so I figured meh, send a message through the app and see what happens. I hate being so indecisive, but what’s the point of seeing the doctor if I can’t get in to see him until next week? Worst case scenario is I haven’t heard back from him by tomorrow, at which point I’ll go ahead and take one of those appointments. I don’t feel like an emergency room is the best option–I could be there for hours, which I can’t afford to do right now–nor is an Urgent Care because they might need X-rays, and I don’t think you can get that done at an Urgent Care. And while it’s unpleasant, it’s certainly not still as unpleasant as it was when it first happened or while I was in Alabama, so at least it’s getting better? I don’t know, I am beginning to think maybe I am not handling this the right way. I don’t know. Adulting is hard.

Heavy heaving sigh.

I also am pretty confident that if I can get myself to start writing again, my world will settle back down and I’ll be able to get a better grasp on everything.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Tuesday, Constant Reader.

Lust to Love

It’s literally amazing how much stuff fell by the wayside over the last couple of weeks, really. I realized yesterday that it was already the 26th and thought how can that be? Mom just died on Valentine’s Day–twlve days ago? But I went to the office the rest of that week and drove over for the funeral last weekend, and then I was on bereavement leave and worked at home–the Fat Tuesday holiday fell in the midst of my leave–and today I am going back into the office, which feels like a step in the right direction towards normalcy, of a sort. Life does goes on, and as I’ve moped around this last week, it also kind of feels like I’ve been in a fog of sorts for quite some time. I should be used to this sort of thing, as it always happens with a paradigm shift–like how the weekend before Katrina we’d gone to Hammond to celebrate my birthday and had a great time…and while we were evacuated, that seemed like was a different life, a different world, and even happened to different people. Murder in the Magic City/Murder on the Menu seems like it was months ago. And hadn’t I just turned in the manuscript that week before I left, with plans to get back on it as soon as I recovered from that trip? Then Mom had her stroke and everything went up into the air, and now I’m trying to find all the balls I dropped somewhere that I had been somehow managing to keep up in the air.

Yesterday was a gorgeous day; it was eighty degrees when I made groceries and gassed up the car. I kept the toe elevated and iced for most of the rest of the day while I read more of Abby Collette’s marvelous Body and Soul Food–which I am really enjoying–and then around five gave up on everything for the rest of the day. I printed out a short story I need to read to see if I can revise it into something that I can turn in for this anthology I’ve committed a story to, and of course I have to dive back into the manuscripts. I have to write something for Paul for Saints and Sinners; and I think I may have agreed to write something else? I need to do thank you cards and I need to mail the books to the winners of the Facebook page takeover giveaway that I did. I need to check in on my dad and sister, and of course at some point this week the fuse for the dryer is going to arrive so I can see if I can get that working again (prayers are appreciated and welcomed; not having a dryer has really sucked). I also ordered some other things I need. I just feel like I don’t have a grasp yet on my own life, and I don’t really like the way it feels. It’s almost like I am swimming through a fog, and things I used to easily remember and keep track of now just go right out of my mind like they were never there in my head in the first place. I don’t like this feeling; I don’t like not being able to trust my memory anymore–but even now as I write this I am wondering hasn’t this been the case for a while? Isn’t that why you started making lists in the first place–because if you didn’t write it down you’d forget?

I can’t even trust my memory about my memory. There’s a Kafka novel in there somewhere.

I’m also more aware of how quickly I tire now, too. I know that’s been going on for a while–since last summer’s horrific bout with Long COVID–but I am hoping that once I get back into the gym I will start building up my endurance again, and I also have to accept that it won’t be quick and my body won’t change at the speed that it used to. For one example, I was overweight when I moved back to New Orleans in August of 2001; I’d lost twenty pounds and tightened up everything by Halloween so I could wear a slutty costume. I’m not going to be able to return to the gym and be able to dress slutty again within eight weeks. (Not that I would dress slutty now–I’m in my sixties, for God’s sake, and I don’t care whether people think I look good or not anymore. It was never the priority of the gym for me in the first place. Yes, I liked looking good and yes, I liked getting flirted with and hit on, but for me that was a nice side effect to having the endurance to dance for hours, or feeling good physically.

God, I used to be so vain! I don’t really miss vanity, though.

One of the things I was working on before Mom had the final stroke was building a website–just something to play around with when I have time (ha ha ha ha ha, sure, Greg, that’s going to happen) and of course, that was the same fucking day I got the text from my sister, so I’ve not done a whole hell of a lot there, you know? I did get the domain registered, and I loaded a picture as well as info on A Streetcar Named Murder, but it’s going to take me some more time to learn how to do all the things I want it to do.

Because I am just swimming in free time.

I’m a bit groggy this morning, mainly because I am out of the habit of waking up to the alarm now–it actually jolted me awake, as opposed to me already being awake when it goes off, which means a retraining of myself yet again as this does not feel natural to me. It feels weird having to go back to the office this morning, as well. My toe’s not quite as painful this morning, either–it still hurts, mind you, but I can walk without limping and it’s not as bad as it has been, which is progress. I am still going to message my doctor today, though. We’ll see how it feels at the end of the day, won’t we? I suppose I can always ice it again once I am home tonight.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have the best Monday you can, Constant Reader.