What Dirtbunny Did this Week

Because, as we all know, she measures her lovability and self-worth according to how much she has accomplished.

• Talked with umpteen contractors and signed various contracts.
• Got flu shot.
• Solved mystery of the check the bank paid out twice.
• Flooded the basement.
• Availed self of golden oppurtunity to clean laundry room floor.
• Discovered this:

Do you want a closer look?

 

Now you know, and let's not speak of it for a while, OK?

• Gave dogs their monthly anti-flea and heartworm medicine on time.
• Finished and blocked two bits of lace.
• Went to the vampire.
• Ate broccoli before it went bad.
• Bought dishwasher.
• Took load of crap to Goodwill.
• Scheduled next visit with the head doctor.
• Completed annual "confidential" how do you like working here survey.
• Discovered that problem with heat and a/c in basement is not that it is crappy, but that there is no heat or a/c in basement.
• Confronted multiple instances of the celebration of mediocrity over substance and did not go postal or fetal.
• In connection with above photographs, confirmed suspicion that there is no insulation whatsoever in garage ceiling/bedroom floor.
• Cooked ground beef before it turned brown.
• Ironed a shirt that really needed it.
• Disposed of dead mop.
• Remembered to refill prescriptions before I ran out.
• Went to the toe store.
• Installed anti-virus software that Geek Squad deleted without my permission.
• Watched a whole lot of football and programmed the DVR to record yet more football.
• Paid off a credit card.
• Found apparently competent HVAC guy who says he can make all my HVAC dreams come true.
• Got snuggly wool blanket out of storage and put it on the bed.
• Retired ancient bathrobe with broken zipper.
• Wrote a really big check.
• Saw photograph of Italian calciotorri in The Washington Post and did not fall down dead.
• Kept most of my appointments.
• Knew results of Liverpool/Chelsea match, but did not spoil it for The Man.
• Remembered to wear my anti-TMJ device every night this week.

A Week of Dirtbunny

Sunday

Blog about knitting. Think about watching Juve game. Can't do it. Too tired. Decide to take nap, despite solemn vow that no naps will be taken. On way to bed, notice this:

If you know what's wrong with this picture, then you are not The Man.

Take nap. Wake up when The Man brings me a latte and a brownie. Drink latte and attempt to eat brownie while in bed, but there are obstacles:

Are you happy to see me, or do you just want my brownie?

Brownie. Yarn Bandit uses his persuasive skills as best he can




by being patient, cute, and good, but he doesn't get a brownie. Kirby is less relentless,

and eventually he just plain old gives up.

Watch the Juve game. They get a draw to the Flying Donkeys. How can you clobber Roma and then give up three goals to the Donkeys at home? One would think that years of rooting for teams that don't win would have prepared me for this, but it hasn't.

Monday

It is Day Six of Eighteen of the radiation treatment for Kirby's cancer. So far, no side effects.

His leg is shaved at the treatment site, and his belly is naturally bald. He is starting to view all this as part of his routine now.

Tuesday

Get a spanking at work. Am informed that I am not supposed to view it as a spanking. OK, then.

Also, new glasses:

They are pink. They are sparkly. They are Italian. They are progressive lenses. Dirtbunny is a six-year old middle-aged woman in crisis, so these glasses are perfect.

Wednesday

Is that what I think it is?

New yarn! Hooray!

Thursday

Crack wise with a buddy in the ladies' room about Tuesday's non-spanking. Am ratted out by third party who I now know is a rat. Get lecture from Bossboy about discretion and am reminded that non-spanking was not a spanking. Also get a further two-part lecture that can be summarized like this:

PART THE FIRST: when you close your office door (which I do for various reasons), it looks like you're sulking, so keep your door open more often, and

PART THE SECOND: Could you please try just a little harder not to be such a pain in the ass?

Have heard discretion lecture before, many times. I never learn from it. Have heard pain-in-the-ass lecture before too. When it comes from Daddy, it sounds like this:

"SIMMER DOWN!"

and it is enraging. Lecture over, with door open, ponder how to manage the keep-door-open-but-don't-be-a-pain-in-the-ass conundrum. It seems insoluble, since Bunny is now, and always has been, a pain in the ass and if Bossboy thinks so, and he loves her, then Bunny is in real trouble. Hmmmm. Set aside conundrum for another time and decide to measure blood sugar.

423

Hell no. That can't be right.

423

Take another measurement immediately:

397

Well, no wonder I'm all jittery and weird. Call doctor, who insists I come in right now for emergency appointment. No can do because of cancer dog and so forth. Compromise with doctor. Go get cancer dog, then get dropped off at doctor while The Man feeds The Boys and takes Yarn Bandit into the yard.

Spend three hours at doctor. Upshot: medications are not working very well. Plus, stress is bad.

Oh really? Stress isn't good for you? Funny. My psychiatrist, my therapist number one, my therapist number two, and my regular doctor never mentioned that before. Resolve to stop caring about the non-spanking, but stuck with cancer dog's cancer transportation for two more weeks, and still haven't solved open-door-pain-in-the-ass conundrum.

Go home, put on PJs, and watch first half of Liverpool-Chelsea Champions League match.

Friday

A work-at-home day. Cannot get blood sugar under 190 despite whole day of not eating carbs and drinking lots of water and exercising. Feel extremely sorry for myself.

Watch second half of Liverpool-Chelsea match. More misery. Complete last item on to-do list and cross it off:

So it was last week's list. So what.

Watch Barcelona-Bayern Munich match. Looks like Loooca will not have to make good on his promise to run naked through the Marienplatz.

Achieve major knitting milestone, but will not mention it on the blog until The Man notices.

Saturday

Sorting through morning pills and notice that have been taking double of one pill and zero of another pill for at least a week when I ran out and broke out a new bottle and hey they look pretty much the same so who can blame me? Two revelations:

ONE: Hey! I bet this is why my blood sugar is out of whack! It's because I'm an idiot, not because I am in the end stages of a chronic progressive disease!

TWO: Hey! This is the kind of mistake the elderly make right before their caretakers decide to get them a home health aide or put them in a home.

Slave to the List

That's it, people. I've been working hard all day, and I hereby quit. I am not going to finish the to-do list unless I give up every joy life has to offer. Here are some things that are not going to get done today:

1. I am not going to clear off the dining room table. Dirtbunny regulars will remember that the dining room table is where Bunny dumps her detritus. Right now, it is loaded with papers from Uncle Sam, the contents of my commuting bag, various knitting projects, my glasses (probably, at least I hope that's where they are or else I am screwed), today's paper (unread), The Man's peacoat (not hung up, ever), Kirby's breakfast dish from the oncologist (they don't carry his special anti-itch food, so I have to pack it for him every morning), and Bunny's handbag, which itself contains puhlenty of junk and needs to be cleaned out.
2. Clean the bedroom. All I really have left to do is finish making the bed. I changed the sheets today but I hate making the bed. The mattress is heavy and I have to lift it to tuck in the covers properly. Yes, I'm sure you're all very surprised to hear that Bunny has to have the bedcovers done just so. When the maid changes the sheets, we rip it all out and start over again. Imagonna let The Man do this when he gets home.
3. Loooca. OK. He wasn't really on the list, but being realistic, I'm not leaving the house for the rest of the day, so it doesn't really matter where he is. I am not going to run into him, so it is not his lucky day.
4. I am not going to finish up the Bayern match from two weeks ago. The DVR is very busy recording World Cup qualifiers and I don't want to eff up the recordings. Plus Massi wasn't playing and Looca was injured, so no eye candy except Michael Rensing, and the team they were playing was dreadful, so few strikes on the goal and therefore very little camera time for Mikey.
5. I am not going to clean the kitchen counters. I did that once already, but then I made lunch and now they're a mess again. Fuck it.
6. Order new yarn. Yeah. I downloaded last week's bank transactions this morning and so there will be no spending of money on yarn until I get paid again, even thought it was going to be really cheap sock yarn. It can wait.
7. Switch over to the new month's parking pass. That would require leaving the house to go down to the end of the driveway. Not going to happen.
8. Blog about knitting and new yarn acquisitions. That would be the natural result of clearing off the dining room table, so no.
9. Make "coral and jade" for dinner. It requires gingerroot, and we're all out. I'll send The Man out for it when he also goes to ...
10. Pick up the dry cleaning. They're The Man's shirts. Let The Man pick them up. I've never been much of a wifey, and it frightens him when I try to be one now.
11. Wash the bathroom rugs. I'll get them into the wash, but I can't cross them off the list until they are dry, folded, and in the linen closet. The dryer is slooooow, so I just can't see staying up late enough to see this one through to the end.
12. Wash the towels. Same deal. They're in the wash now, but whether they'll end the day dry, folded, and put away is doubtful.
13. Soak and cook black beans. I've got dinners going for the next two days. Them beans can wait. I don't even like them very much anyway.

Here's one thing on the list that I WILL finish today:

1. Clean Kirby's ears and put medicine on his feet.

He hates it, but I'm not going to put that one off any more.

So, the plan for the rest of the evening:

1. Pack bag for work tomorrow.
2. Pack Kirby's breakfast.
3. Make dinner.
4. Eat dinner.
5. Knit on something, but not on the potholder, cuz that's too hard.
6. Fold the sheets when they're dry and put them away.
7. Take Yarn Bandit out to water the bushes before he waters the leg of my coffee table again.
8. Make brownies.
9. Eat brownies.
10. Take a shower, finally. Working at home is AWESOME! There's no one here to notice how bad my hair looks.
11. Boss The Man around and assign him chores to do (he loves that, and that's how he knows that I'm awake).
12. Watch some futbol, but not the Azzurri, even though they are playing RIGHT NOW! because the cable provider is not running their game against the Hibernians until 1 am, so that game is for tomorrow after work. DON'T TELL ME WHAT HAPPENS. I WANT TO SEE FOR MYSELF.
13. Look at pictures of Mikey on the Interwebs for a few minutes, then log off the laptop.
14. Mess with Kirby's ears and feet, because it needs to be done.
15. Daydream about ADP until The Man gets home.
16. Go to bed early. Daydream about ADP until I fall asleep.

And that's enough. Bunny over and out.

Dirtbunny's Cold, Day 60

Another sniffling, sneezing, coughing, aching, stuffy head, but no fever, why God why day Chez Nous. Yesterday, my boss informed me that he could hear me coughing two doors down with the doors closed and maybe I should go home. So I did, but not before stopping to get some new over-the-counter cold stuff. Everyone says Try Mucinex, so I did. And I also looked for candied cherries for my holiday baking, since I was there anyway, and The Man would probably not cotton to looking for the special holiday display at an unfamiliar store for obscure seasonal baking products. But all they had were green. So I got my Mucinex and went home and worked on a sock for my Daddy and fell asleep then woke up and watched Juventus until the DVR ate the last 20 minutes of the match and then I went to sleep again, only Kirby did not stay in his dog bed and decided to sleep on my neck all night.




But today I woke up with less system-clogging snot and fewer phlegm globs in my throat, so I drank some coffee and ate some Cheerios and put in a full day at the home office, where I spent most of the day making little corrections to a memo, then erasing the corrections, then putting them back in, then fretting about them, then saying what the hell no one cares anyway, then deciding I want it to be good so going back to fretting. Long story short, I didn't make a lot of changes, but it took me all day to do what I did.




It has been an interesting few days. The Old Folks brought me Thanksgiving at my house so I didn't have to leave and I didn't have to cook and I could devote all my energy to worrying about GK and his tumor removal surgery. Special Sweetheart slept for about a day and then, once the turkey came out of the oven, he woke up and he's been pretty much his ole self ever since. His boo-boo is a little itchy and he isn't supposed to lick it. If I catch him at it, I say "No lick" and he nearly always stops. If he really, really can't help himself, I show him the e-collar that he has to wear if he can't stop licking, and that puts an end to it. He is such a good good boy.


Here is his leg after the biopsy but before the mass was removed. The growth was about the size of an egg and reportedly looked like a little brain.





And here he is post-tumor removal, before he got his little bandage off.







As soon as the Old Folks left, my head filled up with snot. This is not good. I have a holiday to plan, after all, and I never really got over the last cold. The Man doesn't register that it's Christmastime until about December 23, so it's up to me. Only I'm sick (again) and on unofficial House Arrest until The Man deems me healthy enough to face the world. Not really, but he secretly suspects that I'm doing something to make myself sick just to add to his stress and fuck with him. If he catches me at any Christmas stuff that is more effort than pointing and clicking, I'm in big trouble.




So I'm doing stealth holiday planning. Step one is to decide on what decorations we are going to have, get what we need that we don't have already, and put them up without involving The Man. That sounds hard. Let's come back to that later.



Step two is food. What holiday baking will I be doing this year? That sounds hard too. I need a nap. Maybe Warden The Man isn't completely out to lunch.


OK--step three. Step three is, given that I know that certain Christmas treats are non-negotiable, obtain ingredients for making same. To render that idea in as few words as possible, find and purchase candied cherries. And that's where I started with this post.


Candied fruit slices are the one, the only, the single, non-negotiable Christmas item, and candied cherries are required. [Proof: The Man just came home, saw the stack of candied cherries, and said "Oooh! Candied Fruit Slices!"] Since they are not organic, not all-natural, and in fact are probably contaminated with some sort of radioactive isotope (how else do you explain that color?) they are not to be had at the Fresh Fields. I can send The Man to the Fresh Fields with a grocery list, and he can get groceries as competently as anyone. I cannot send The Man out with instructions to find candied cherries, because I never know from year to year where I will find them because apparently no one bakes any more. He is not going on a Northern Virginia grocery store slog for something obscure that he may never find. It's not a job for volunteers. It's a job for Dirtbunny.




So, a few days ago, when I went for some unauthorized yarn therapy, I checked at the grocery store in the same strip mall. No dice, although they did have plenty of cheap plastic cookie cutters.


Then yesterday, I found some green ones when I got the Mucinex. But no red. Green without red would not be right. I need both. This is Christmas goddamn it! (That probably made the Baby Jesus cry, but I think that grown-up Jesus would find it funny. Jesus is cool, not uptight. But I digress.)


Today, after work, I tried the Glutton Place. They have come through for me before. Not this time, although they had lots and lots of gourmet pancake mix. Are pancakes really so hard that people need a mix? I don't get it.



So then I tried one of the Safeways. After losing a parking space and nearly getting killed by an oblivious Mercury Sable-driving cell-phone yakking creep, I went in and found........many, many disposable foil baking pans, and mint sauce in a jar (yuck) but no candied cherries. And so I headed home.


On the way home, I thought, by the time I get there, it will be too dark to work on project Hermes because I don't have a decent lamp at my desk for close-up no-glasses work. So what the hell, I'll try the Other Safeway. They have a new section with supposedly organic house brand food (I'm dubious) but no candied cherries. I think about getting a Starbucks at the in-store kiosk, but I'm too depressed. I leave.



As I'm pulling out of the parking lot, I decide that this is ridiculous. Exactly what is wrong with all-green candied fruit slices anyway? What kind of citizen puts fifty miles on the car looking for red candied cherries when there are plenty of green ones to be had? Am I a liberal earth-loving person or a hypocrite? OK, I'm a hypocrite, I don't do nearly enough to be green, but am I OK with the Hunt for Red Candied Cherries? No. I am not. I will settle for green and I will embrace the imperfection of life. So I go across the street to the HT, where I bought the Mucinex and saw the green cherries. OK, trouble getting a space. Why is everyone at the store today? It's only December 3 for crying out loud! I get a space in the garage. I ride the elevator up to the store, and I stomp down the aisle towards the green cherries not exactly settled on the idea that green-only is acceptable. Maybe I'll get green while I can and keep looking for the red. No! Bad Bunny! What is wrong with you! Get the goddamned green cherries and move on to something important!




Sniff. I'll come around. It'll be OK. I can deal with green cherries. I'm a big girl and I have lots of yarn and beagles waiting for me at home.



Green cherries it is. And there they are.




But wait!




Could it be?



It IS!




THEY HAVE RED CHERRIES TODAY! YESTERDAY GREEN ONLY BUT TODAY RED AND GREEN! JESUS LOVES ME! THERE WILL BE A REAL CHRISTMAS AFTER ALL!






I got extra just in case.

Back to the Lists

May was the month of no lists. I can faithfully report that ratcheting waaaaaay back on the lists correlates nicely with improved mood. I have been feeling better on the whole, even though my shrink canceled my appointment and can't see me again for weeks ("That's okay. I'm not that suicidal.") Not every day has been great, but I'm sleeping better, generally, I'm feeling better, generally, and I'm a little more willing to interact with my fellow humans, generally. I've had a sudden burst of productivity at work that I intend to ride for as long as it lasts. I've got some seminars coming up that will take me out of the office a little and provide a nice break in the routine. I never come up the front steps to the house so I'm blissfully unaware of the dreadful weeds overtaking the front yard Chez Nous, and because I don't know that they're there, they don't bother me.

May is over. Now we are in June. June heralds a return to the lists in a gentle way, because there are things around here that need to get done. This is my list for the weekend:

1. Food: plan menus, make grocery list, send The Man to the Fresh Fields, put groceries away. He buys the groceries. When he goes, we spend less, we end up with less junk, and Bunny doesn't waste time being distracted by all the fun food stuff on display.
2. Wash bedspread. It is covered in dog hair and I need a big, clean, flat space where I can do #3.
3. Block Poppy's sheep blanket. Also, write about it and take some pictures.
4. Cook: If I am going to have something decent for dinner this week, I'll need to do some things in advance this weekend. For example, if I make a french potato salad, hard boil some eggs, steam some haricots verts, and make a vinaigrette, I can have a salade nicoise for dinner this week. If I don't make enchiladas this weekend, there won't be any after work on Thursday. If I don't clean and cook the broccoli, I might not eat any vegetables this week.
5. Catch up on some blogging. It's fun and good for me. Even if I only have three readers, plus The Man, if I remind him that I have a blog.
6. Cast on the second stupid blue ribbed sock and get the cuff started. I don't like it anymore, but it won't be over with if I don't get started. See how abandoning the project entirely is not even an option?
7. Give Kirby his bath. He's fiddling with his ears and chewing his paws a little too much.
8. Clear off my desk. I need a clean desk. I can't tolerate clutter.
9. Discuss with The Man Friday's transportation plan for stitch and pitch. Shall we drive or Metro? Park at the office and Metro from there? Do we want to carpool with friends? Do we want to leave straight from work or come home first? My friends want to know, and The Man needs be consulted.
10. Watch last night's episode of Battlestar Gallactica so I can talk about it with Dana on Monday.

That's enough, I think. Let's check back later and see how she's doing.

Uh oh. I smell poop. There shouldn't be anything poop-smelling in here. Time to investigate.

Now what?

I am done with my job for the year. I have done my gift-shopping and wrapping. I have made my menus, done all of the food shopping that can be done in advance, stuffed The Man's stocking, finished the decorating, and put all the detritus back in the basement closet. The laundry is done. The dogs have had baths. We are fully stocked on coffee, sugar and other goodies, booze, and firewood.

The only things I have left to do are all food-related (last-minute shopping for perishables, baking goodies) and, therefore, enjoyable at least in theory although sometimes I can tire myself out and start feeling cranky and unloved. I do and do and do for you people (The Man) and this is the thanks I get! That kind of irrational crap. That usually leads to nap time and then The Man gets some peace, and it all tends to work out.

So, with basically nothing left to do except enjoy the season, I have all this time in front of me that is not crammed full of to-dos. I am at a complete loss. I have constructed this very neurotic world around myself in which my (lack of) value and (lack of) happiness is tied to the (non) recognition I get for my (so-called) accomplishments. If I don't get enough admiration and recognition, it must be because I am not accomplishing impressive-enough achievements. I have weathered a number of professional disappointments this past year, and it has been a pretty thin year for recognition, so I've been feeling really bad about myself. And now, I have time to devote to all the fun things I can think of and I have no idea what to do if it isn't achievement-oriented.

I asked The Man I sez Hey The Man, what should I do with myself? Should I finish up the two knitting projects I have left that aren't very interesting, or I should I start something new, fun, and exciting?

The Man and I have been together since 1873 and he still doesn't quite know what to make of me. This, for example, was a serious question reflective of a deep-seated fucked-up-ness in the Dirtbunny mindset.

The Man sez, do something fun, duh. Like it was an easy question. Leisure time is not so much of a problem for him.

So I am considering what I have in the stash, and I am going to choose something cool to do. Also, I put together some cookie dough that can be sliced and baked later, and I'm making more biscotti. I'm not really going to keep almond flour and candied ginger around until next December, so I might as well use it up in light of the Economy Plan, even though no one here needs any more biscotti. YB is pretty sure he'd like some, though, given how he's sniffing around the oven and licking flour off the kitchen floor. Perhaps I'll pack some up to share with, what did they call themselves? The "old folks in the South"?

Here is our Christmas tree when it was half-decorated:

Check out the serious tilt, especially of the star on top. We're a real Land of Misfit Toys around here. By the way, as I promised, GK has thoroughly checked out the tree and he is no longer askeered of it:

YB is too busy hanging out in the kitchen hoping I'll drop something to show much interest in the tree. For now.