Not All There

Sometimes I have days where I'm not quite all there. This is one.

The best way to describe being in my head right now is to imagine yourself in a turbulent ocean, clinging to an inflatable dinghy. You may catch this wave or that, be borne forward a little while, but be sidetracked by another. You also never quite know when one big sneaky wave is going to crash upon you from behind and sweep you under. There are bits of flotsam and jetsam in the water, detritus from the last time I was caught in the undertow. I'm collecting pieces of it now, with the intention of making a fabulously abstract sculptural post with it later on.

Flotsam

A very Happy Birthday to my friend Melanie! Hope the iPod that you got for your birthday is working wonderfully. Mine isn't!!

The WCM and I were trying to get all of my music on my laptop from my iPod. In the end, we had to use floola, and I have the sinking suspicion that it's going to be a lengthy and plodding process of adding each song individually.

Speaking of the WCM, he's outside right now assembling a second-hand behemoth of a swing set for Miss Peanut. It looks like a bitch of a job, and I'm really happy to be a delicate flower who has no appreciable body mass behind her. Since I've become all small and such, the WCM doesn't expect me to be as physical as before. Ironic, really, since there's far less danger now that I'll keel over from exercise-induced hypertension. But then, irony, it is by far the predominant spice in my life.

Ah, yes. Once again with the combining of the physical and the irony - you know that lube? The one I spent so much time and embarrassment picking out? Haven't needed it. Mother Nature has provided.

Well, Mother Nature also provided a visit from my Aunt Flo. Have you seen these new "Always" pads? They look like the next best thing to sliced bread! I don't know about you, but I've never liked tampons. My friend Monica always referred to them as "Peter Cheaters." I've only ever worn them if I've had to go swimming during Aunt Flo's visit. I may be hypersensitive in this particular area, but I can't seem to forget about that thing. I feel it there. DO. NOT. WANT.


Jetsam

One of my coworkers just sent an email telling me (well, and a bunch of other people) that she'd lost her grandmother. I had to send her one back offering my condolences. I still miss my grandmother every damn day.

And I cried when I saw this, because I'm a big sap:



That's Obama and his grandmother, who passed away right before the election.

And the election tension continues at Peevish Place, from many quarters! While I still don't discuss it, the WCM can't seem to let it drop. It's one of the reasons that I've been "frumious" recently. I may be running away for Thanksgiving, since the family I'd be spending it with may behave like the WCM, and needle me with snide republican remarks.

I also recently pissed off a friend by making a comment on his blog - he's a very political guy, and very conservative as well. Let's just say that it upset my personal apple cart when he snapped at me, and I haven't felt quite easy with him since. I probably just shouldn't have commented at all - after all, that strategy serves me pretty well at home.

And home is where I am right now. I should probably clean it up some, but I'm still being inundated with boxes from the after-halloween internet sales. The WCM can't seem to resist the deep discounts on fake skeletons and giant radio-controlled spiders.

Treading Water

In case my dingy gets sunk, I've been reading a bunch recently. It seems to be my escape. It's the end of the marking period, I've got a ton to do, and I don't wanna!

Ok, let me stop procrasturbating and go accomplish some stuff.

Remember, "just keep swimming, just keep swimming!"