Tag: woke

That Made Me Stronger

And here we are on Pay-the-Bills Wednesday again, and I am feeling pretty okay this morning. I was very tired when I got home last night after running an errand to pick up some books I ordered–Liza’s new memoir and Vincent Tirado’s new horror novel–but somehow managed to do a load of dishes and a load of laundry. I slept very well last night and the night before, but I definitely hit a wall yesterday afternoon. I was also very busy at the office, too–and I am busy again today, too. That’s okay–I’d rather be busy than bored, but some slow time to keep up with other job duties is always appreciated.

But after I started the dishwasher and moved the clothes into the dryer, I changed into my usual at-home leisure wear (LSU sweats) and plopped down into my easy chair–Sparky immediately climbed into my lap once I had the ice machine affixed to my left leg, and he was MIFFED when I took the wrap around cuff off later, because he was lying against it and apparently liked the cold. Go figure. I watched the news about the collapse of an empire until I couldn’t stand it any longer, and switched over to my current obsession, The Traitors-UK, which is so much fun I can barely stand it, before I started nodding off in my chair and went to bed early.

I also finally finished my long-overdue newsletter–about being a DEI author; you can read it here if you’d like; you can even subscribe! My mind has been so scattered these past few weeks–really, since Mardi Gras, to be completely honest–that it took me longer than it should have. I put so many bullet points into it that I wanted to cover, but wasn’t able to because it was getting very long, which means that I’ll have to do another one to finish covering everything I wanted to cover, but perhaps I can make the next one about diversity panels–which is actually how it originally started, but through the writing/editing process I realized that wasn’t the way into talking about life as a DEI author, and wrote a whole new opening to it. I have to say, it did feel nice to get it done and out of the way at last, but it’s also part and parcel of this ADHD-addled brain stuff I’ve been experiencing this year. I do think the last couple of weeks–between not feeling well and water-boil advisories (this week’s was lifted yesterday morning so I could shave this morning and do the dishes last night) I’ve been quite unsettled lately and unable to focus for very long on anything. Sigh. But I am going to give it the old college try and start work on the next newsletter and maybe some fiction. It literally can’t hurt, right?

Indeed, hope springs eternal.

But so far so good this morning. We have water pressure, safe drinking water, and I am not feeling sick or under the weather in any way, shape, or form. I think this weekend is the Irish Channel St. Patrick’s Day parade, which means street closures, lots of drunken pedestrians, and parade traffic in Uptown, so I have to plan my weekend errands and chores around it. And yes, it is this Saturday; so any errands involved heading up town are out of the question, which is fine. It starts at Magazine and Felicity and ends at Jackson and Annunciation, but it does go along St, Charles, too. I suppose I can get uptown by taking Race to Tchoupitoulas and head up and back that way, but…hassle. I had hoped to get everything done on Saturday morning so I could get home and stay there, but it’s still possible–I could go shop and make groceries on the West Bank or Carrollton.

There’s always an answer, you know.

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

View of the Karnak temple from the Nile

Oh Sherrie

Saturday in the Lost Apartment, and I am going to take it very easy this morning. I got my flu shot yesterday after work, and it knocked me for a loop the way it does every year. It also occurs to me that this year’s much worse reaction has everything to do with the ulcerative colitis, a compromised immune system, and the medication I take for it. Last evening, as I switched between the US Open and the Auburn-Baylor game (WAR EAGLE!) while trying to read The Hunting Wives, I didn’t feel sick or anything, just exhausted and my joints (especially the hips) ached and kept locking up, so every time I got up to do something it was awkward and uncomfortable at first as everything unkinked. The hips ache again this morning, too.

I was hoping to not leave the house today, but I have to replace my phone. Thursday night when I got home from work I couldn’t find my phone before I went to bed. I used the “find my phone” feature, and discovered it was last located at the corner of Marigny and Claiborne, where I turn onto Claiborne. Yesterday morning I went to look for it, but the battery was undoubtedly dead and that was its last known location. I couldn’t find it anywhere, so obviously someone found it. I erased it once I got back home, and one of my errands yesterday was to go to the AT&T store on St. Charles to replace it. The girl who “helped” me wasn’t very good at her job, I think, because she finally just told me to go to the other store on Magazine Street. It was all very weird and strange, and having already had the flu shot was already getting tired, so I went to Raising Cane’s to get something to eat and came home. So I have to go to the store on Magazine this morning, and might as well go by the mail and the Fresh Market on my way home, hopefully with a new phone. It’s been weird not having one, but kind of nice at the same time. I really need to break my phone addiction.

College football season has already sort of started, but it kicks into gear today. LSU plays at Clemson tonight, Alabama plays Florida State (I think?) and Texas is at Ohio State today. I’ll probably not do much of anything except some chores during the games. A new football season is always kind of exciting because nobody really knows what will happen, and the “rankings” are based on nothing more than last year’s results and the opinion of “experts”–and the older I get the less I want to hear from “experts.” The only truly decent commentator–one who isn’t full of himself and talks to hear himself talk–is Greg McElroy, the former Alabama quarterback. He is a sports journalist, he isn’t biased, and he takes his job seriously. I wish he was the primary color commentator for SEC games. Sigh. I really miss Keith Jackson every Saturday in the fall…

I wrote and published my Katrina newsletter/essay (click there to read it if you haven’t and want to), and of course last night as I watched the third episode of Spike Lee’s Katrina: Come Hell and High Water, which was quite excellent. It also reminded me of the biggest lesson out of Katrina, one that I didn’t even realize I’d learned until watching last night: I learned rom the Katrina experience just how privileged I am, and it was the first time in my life I “woke” up and realized it. We had the means to leave, so our story isn’t nearly as traumatic as that of those who couldn’t leave. We lived in the “sliver by the river” so our streets didn’t flood in my neighborhood; our damage was from above with losing the roof…but we still had a place to live in New Orleans so we could come back while the roof and apartment were repaired. Our jobs survived the disaster so we still had income. We didn’t have to ride the storm out in the Superdome, or needed to be rescued from our roof. Yes, the event was traumatizing, but I never felt like I had the right to complain about our situation because we were so much luckier than so many others. There was also that weird experience of, for months and even years, having to catch up on Katrina stories when I ran into someone I hadn’t seen for awhile. “Are you back for good?” was always one of the things I’d ask to start with.

And, oh, it was so lovely running into those folks again!

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely, lovely day, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back tomorrow.