Every day, the shower routine is the same; start at the top and work my way down.
Shampoo the hair, rinse.
Wash the face, rinse.
Squeeze body wash on the floofy thing, wash arms (left first , left underarm then under and around the boobs, right arm, right underarm), belly, genitals, ass, down the left leg, then down the right leg. Rinse.
Same routine for drying, same order. For like the last fifteen thousand showers.
It’s not that I’ve ritualized it or made it a thing, it just seems the most efficient way. Of course, I’m sure that’s what people say who have ritualized a routine task or made it a thing.
But today I was distracted, stressed by waiting on other people, thinking about all the soon-to-happen changes and just how easy it would be for one thread to be pulled and unravel the whole damn thing (no, not really, I’m being dramatic for effect), and I washed out of order. And then I dried out of order.
My whole day has since felt a bit…off. Different. Like a bra that got put in the dryer instead of air dried, it still fits but it’s tight in the wrong places and is a constant reminder that shit isn’t quite right in a very small and slightly irksome way.
I’m not sure I like it, but I’m sure I don’t hate it. Kinda like masturbating with the left hand instead of the right. It just feels….weird.
Have you ever wanted something so much, that the desire was a taste in your mouth, like a cross between the best thing you’ve ever eaten and the worst?
Have you ever wanted something so much, that the very thought of it made butterflies the size of elephants gallop around your stomach, made you tremble with the excitement of the possibilities?
Have you ever wanted something so much, that you were afraid to even speak its name for fear of attracting the notice of some capricious god?
Have you ever wanted something so much, that the want kept you from sleeping, kept you tossing and turning until the sheets tangled around your legs and your beloved mumbled sleepily at you to please be still?
Have you ever wanted something so much, that you replayed every morsel of conversation in your head, wondering why in hell you said that or that or that, and hoping you didn’t fuck it up?
Have you ever wanted something so much, that you had to squash the feeling, to try and not want it, because experience has taught you that should it not come to pass, the disappointment will be hard to bear?
Have you ever wanted something so much, that you were tempted to pray to gods you don’t believe in, in the hopes that it might tip the scales in your favour?
I just can’t help but feel that my day would go so much better if I could just get out of my bathrobe, shower and get things done. Here’s hoping I manage it in the next hour or so, since I have to be at work 4.
Somehow, I don’t think fuzzy red bathrobe is part of Bulk Barn’s dress code.
I watched a trailer for 20,000 Days on Earth, a documentary with Nick Cave, and it got me thinking, how old am I days? Hence the title.
And FYI, I’ll be 20,000 days old on January 1, 2017. I think that might be a good day for a big party.
I know, I know. I haven’t posted the fitness things for a while. I went great guns for a month, lost 10 lbs, then the enthusiasm waned. I have to rekindle it, as I would really like to be below 190 by the time I go to school in just over 5 weeks.
5 weeks. Fuck.
After all the craziness of January and February, I thought that slowing down for March would be a welcome change. The chemistry course is done, marks and portfolio have been submitted for the college application, the 4 websites for clients are either done or on track, and all blogs are caught up.
It feels weird. I’m fidgety. I’m laying in bed right now, at 11:23 on a Saturday morning, wondering what it is I should be/could be doing. I’ve been awake since 6, having taken Keith to the airport. He won’t be back until Monday night, so I don’t have him to bump around with.
I am feeling overwhelmed by waiting right now, if that can be a thing, instead of doing. Waiting for mid-March when I’ll find out if I’ve been accepted or not, waiting to find out which way my life is going to go in the short term, Plan A or Plan B/C/D. Waiting for someone, anyone to look at my resume and at least call me in for an interview. Waiting for next week. Waiting until I need to go to tonight’s derby double-header. Even waiting until I get hungry enough to drag my ass out of bed and find something to eat.
Now might be a good time to address some other projects that have been shelved; writing, editing the novel, knitting a sweater. I might even take another course, maybe the grade 12 Writers’s Craft, Canadian History or Philosophy courses.
Now might be a good time to review the referee hand signals and penalty codes for tonight.
Not would also be a good time to stop waiting and just get the fuck out of bed.
Running solo for the next few days as Keith is travelling with Colm Wilkinson. Am a bit at odds wit myself, and am now entering day 5 of this funk that has me alternating between feelings of dread, being on the edge of tears and being in utter denial that anything is wrong at all (N0, really, I’m fine. Really). I laid in bed last night and as my mind started going down the paths that lead to anxiety (again) I decided to throw some money at the problem and take myself out on a date. I was going to make Wednesday Get Shit Done In the Morning and Then Go Downtown to See The Bowie Exhibit At The AGO Again and Then Go To The Ballet Day. And then I slept as well as anyone could after eating chocolate just before bed (d’oh!).
Thought about it this morning though, and have decided to break that into two days. Today will be Get Shit Done Day. Get ALL The Shit Done Day to be precise. That way I can get the most out of tomorrow’s Go Downtown to See The Bowie Exhibit At The AGO and Then Go To The Ballet Day without anything hanging over my head.
Shit that I will get done today (in no particular order):
- finish sock monkey hat for my niece’s birthday. Finished, 11:09
- make slouch bag like this one in the sock monkey fabric for niece’s birthday Finished 1:36
- wrap sock monkey hat & slouch bag & package for shipping to Calgary. Finished 2:50
- package 2 pairs of Dr Who fingerless mitts for shipping to Rochester MN. Finished 2:50
- go to post office across the street and mail packages to Calgary & Rochester. Finished 2:50
- sew replacement buttons on grey winter coat. Finished at 4:50
- update LinkedIn profile. I had someone awesome write up my summary that I was having so much trouble with. Now it’s time to actually get it on there! Finished 6:18
- take and upload photo-a-day photo. Finished at 5:45
- write about Monday’s final beer class for beer blog Finished at 8:10: http://goodaleandbeer.com/?p=164
- watch movie & drink a beer for Beer and a Movie section on beer blog
- write about movie and beer on beer blog
- follow up with TDSB re: if they can move up the date of the exam so I can get my marks in to Niagara College in time.
- do a bit of a sweep and clean. Done sort of at 3:10, enough so I’m saying it’s done. It’ll have to be done again though before Keith gets home.
- start silk mohair lace scarf thank you gift. Started at 8:30
- cook up next home brew – Mocha Stout from True Brews (this might not happen. It’s time consuming, and I want to get the rest of stuff done first)
- sign up for and play tonight’s Buddy Dank home game on Poker Stars Signed up at noon. Definitely playing by 10!
Hitting Publish now, at 10:13 am. I’m ready to get crackin’.
Just got home from the third session of the Prud’homme Beer Enthusiast class. To say I am in a funk is an understatement.
I knew that Roger, the instructor, had taught a course for the Brewmaster program, so I asked him a bit about it. He then asked why I was interested.
“Because I’m applying”, I replied.
That simple question flustered me…I babbled something about becoming a brewmaster and starting my own brewery. To be honest, I don’t have a full plan for when I grow up but then I never have. I should have just just stated the truth in four words:
Because I want to.
“Make sure you have a backup plan”, he said. And then went on to tell me about people he knew, people with years of experience and with certifications like the BJCP or Cicerone, who could not get into the program.
My self-doubt jumped in and whispered in my ear, if they couldn’t get in, what makes you think you can get in? You have none of that, you’re a noob with nothing to back you up except enthusiastic delusions. Why the hell are you bothering? What the hell are you doing?
I have only one answer that I can give the self-doubt:
Trying. Because I have to.
I have some partially-written bits in my drafts folder. I was going to find one and finish it up but just don’t feel like it after finding out why the girl with the blue hair and the delightfully dry wit has been absent from school for the last while.
What I do feel like is putting on my red fuzzy bathrobe (check), eating a bad-for-me frozen pizza (check), making a nice cup of tea (check), unplugging from the world and curling up on the couch with the cat and a book filled with escapism (will be checked off soon).