Back at it

Ah, another Monday dawns...the golf course is greening, the dandelions are popping up, and my stomach is in knots.

I'm not sure if it's a weekend of trying to eat well (but probably failing), or if it's just that time of year, but I feel gross. Seriously. Like, alien parasites swimming around in my stomach gross.

And I walked to work today, which may have made things worse. Mom gave me the "Oh, Erica!" when I mentioned I had been driving to work since I got my truck, which sent me into a shame spiral. So, I walked to work and got my stomach all churned up in the process.

This is why I'll never be an award-winning blogger. Intestinal woe!

Still here

You thought I was in a drunken stupor all this time, didn't you?

Well, I wasn't.

I did have a drink Friday night, and a couple last night, but nothing major. I went to Matt & Kara's Friday night to check out the work they're doing on their backyard - it looks pretty good now, so I can only imagine how great it's going to look when it's complete.

I drove to Ross River yesterday morning to put up a sign at the Canol Footbridge. I didn't know where I was going, and there weren't really many people around to ask, but I asked the man at the hot dog stand (which was actually just across from the bridge). And then I was starving, so I bought the most expensive hot dog in the world - seriously, it was just a hotdog, like you make at home. I could have bought a whole pack of hot dogs (and buns, too, if I were still in Ontario) for that.

But I was really hungry.

I filled up with gas at the General Store, so now I have no excuses for not going to Ross for gas (since I know how to do it and how to pay for it now). Then I came home for my last day of snuggling Titus. Heather came by to pick him up in the evening, and now I find the house is a bit too quiet.

Now the mad rush to get my house presentable for my parentals is on. I want them to see me living in a neat and tidy house (even if most of my belongings are stored in Rubbermaid containers). They'll be here in just over 2 weeks, so I need to get crackin'.

Is it me?

Do I emit some kind of energy field that causes destruction? Everywhere I go, things fall apart. I am the only common factor, am I therefore the cause?

Man, I am getting hella-drunk tonight. My trip over to Ross may be postponed until Sunday.

Punchy

Man, I hate how a person can be in a great mood, ready to be productive, and loving life, and then have that mood completely destroyed by some jerk.

I am just an admin assistant - I don't have any power to make things happen. Stop trying to pressure me!

To reiterate

Like I said last Thursday, I am tired all the time.

I drove into WH with K on Sunday, to pick up stuff for the event she's having at the Rec next weekend. To WH and back in a day...that is tiring. And even though I had yesterday off (Thank you and Happy B-Day, Queen Vicky), I still woke up this morning feeling like I had been running marathons in the night.

Titus is a pleasant houseguest - he is friendly, noisy, and knows how to curl up beside me so that I sleep through my alarm. Hooray for feline-therapy!

In three weeks and a day, my parents will be landing in WH. I have that time to clean the house, arrange to borrow an air mattress from someone, and try to plan some activities for the three of us to do. My idea of time off lately involves me sleeping. I don't think M&D are coming all the way to the Yukon just to have naps ^_^

In other news, I have a target goal of money I need to save up for a future sekrit projekt. It's a pretty big number, so I'd best get saving.

I need sleep

I am not falling asleep well at night, and staying asleep far later than I should in the morning. It takes me roughly three hours to get awake enough to be useful, and by then I need a nap anyway.

No more sugar, no more caffeine. No more foods I eat even though I know they make me ill. (Which I guess means no more booze, either).

Once I finish the stuff in my fridge ^_^

Going to Town

I am going to town this afternoon, and it is hard for me to do anything productive.

I'm going in for a meeting about the new health plan all the Yukon Communities are enrolled in, which means there will probably be a lot of note-taking involved. But there will also be a hotel bed, and a chance to go grocery shopping, so I'm all woooo-hoooo. But, you know, in a quiet, refined kind of way.

In other news, I have punctured the middle finger on my left hand through excessive quilting over the weekend. I couldn't find my good thimble, and nothing else seemed to have any effect at all - bandages were punctured within three stitches, and whoever suggested a few layers of nail polish obviously was not familiar with my inability to allow nail polish to dry. Luckily, I did not touch the fabric during that experiment.

The new quilt is coming along pretty well, I think. The part that I thought would be the hardest (freehand-drawing of vines and leaves) is actually proving to be fairly simple. The only difficult part is the darkness of the fabric combined with a regular old pencil makes it tricky to see what I've drawn in order to quilt it. But with any luck, I'll pick up a white pencil at Walmart or the Bear's Paw, and then everything will be aces.

Judgemental

I was looking at a dating site (trying to recover from the humiliation of my last look at a dating site), and all I could think of was how bad the spelling was in many of the ads. I thought, "I could never get involved with you - you obviously didn't think to run that through a spellcheck program before you posted it."

Then I felt bad, like I was judging people unfairly. It's not like I haven't spelled a word or two wrong in my day. Maybe eHarmony was right - I will be alone forever.


On the plus side, it's the weekend! Huzzah!

No pissing in my cornflakes

Man, every time I start the day out cheerful, something comes along to make me seethe within half an hour of getting to work.

It's probably a good thing that I can't talk about work on my blog, because I don't want to get fired.

Suffice it to say, I am very glad it's Friday.

Cryptic Note

I've been taking notes since yesterday in the Tenorikuma notebook I purchased on my first trip to Puroland. They're tiny bears who run a coffeeshop (at least, I think they're bears - their tails look a bit more like racoons), and they're accompanied by smiling sugar cubes, spoons, and little wisps of steam. I wasn't going to get sucked into something boring, like Hello Kitty - although I do have a fondness for Kuromi-chan (or Bondage Bunny, as we like to call her) - no, I am on Team Tenorikuma all the way.

I mention this because I found a page where I had written some cryptic notes. I think maybe I wrote them while I was still in Japan - I only received this book in the mail yesterday - but have no idea what it means. It's about sushi rolls, salads, and main dishes - but right in the middle is this cryptic note:

"Please feel free to ask a NINJA"

Was I doing a lot of drugs back in the day? Was I tripping? Is this like that notebook full of ramblings from the time I spent the night in a Shinjuku McDonalds, waiting for the trains to start running again?

And at the back are 6 pages of notes from two episodes of Stargate: Atlantis, which are obviously for that story I wrote for the Secret Santa exchange. That takes me back. Maybe one of these days I will get around to watching the rest of SGA...maybe.

All I need is a notebook, and a really cool pen, and I am happy.

Fin

I survived the weekend, with only one major attack. It was a doozy, and I am still paying for it, but such is life.

I took today off - I really needed some time away from people, and I want to be at my best when I meet the new guy tomorrow. I'm hoping he'll be able to direct things and I can go back to what I do best - painting my nails.

Just kidding. I don't paint my nails because they chip and look tacky about two minutes after I've painted them.

I went to Kara's for a nice cup of tea this afternoon, and then hurried home to tidy up my house for prospective buyers. They are coming back tomorrow night, which gives me a little more time to tidy again. But I probably won't. I'll just flop out.

It's just after 10, and I am going to bed. My body is more tired than I like to admit after all the running around I did. My soles feel blistered.

Note to self for Thursday

I'm writing this here so I won't forget by the time I get up tomorrow.

1 - Make signs with shuttle times
1.1 - Make signs with tour times
1.3 - Get shuttle times to J at DVG
1.4 - Make signs for Weight Room for Saturday night
1.5 - Make up GCs for ARAS Silent Auction
2 - Call ARAS to confirm table for Sheep Cabin, and to pick up 1.5
3 - Call PW to make sure table makes it out there
4 - Panic a little
5 - Calm down
6 - Find out for certain when the Fire Marshal is coming
7 - Find 50/50 tickets for draw at BBQ
8 - Have tea
9 - Roll posters in elastic
10 - Seriously, what was I thinking?
11 - Call B&Bs, find out if they want brochures
12 - If H brought tissue paper, wrap gifts
13 - If not, have a little cry under desk
14 - Write cards to go with gifts
15 - Find out about finances re: GC Breakfast
16 - Is that guy going to bring a guitar to the BBQ?
17 - I am going to be so sick on Sunday night, I can just tell
18 - Make sure everyone has my cell phone number
19 - Remember to turn cell phone on
20 - Find out if CRIC needs more maps/brochures
21 - Make sure laptop and projector have all their cords and stuff
22 - There will be enough salad
23 - Print up Sheep thing for CRIC on the nice paper
24 - Talk to K when she comes in for our meeting with CA - see if she can think of anything.

Man, I am to the point now where I just want this to be over.

Back

Let the productivity begin.

Today, I am wishing I had taken the job as a secretary at the feed mill

There are so many curse words trying to make their way out of my mouth that they become a garbled grunt.

For the next hour, while I am on lunch, I am going to concentrate on how badly I hate this place, and then when I come back, I will be fine.

Not good with planning

I've never really been a person who's good at planning - particularly when it comes to meals. Other people seem to have the knack of plotting out plans for a week or a month at a time, and they stick to them. Me, I can decide at 4:00 to make salmon for dinner, and by the time I get home at 4:30, I've changed my mind in favour of a burger or soup.

I'm really trying, though. I made an inventory tonight of everything that's in my freezer, and everything in my pantry.

I am trying to follow the advice of a woman who feeds her family of 6 on $190US a month. Granted, some of her options are not available to me - food up here is always going to be more expensive - but I have to try. I've already spent $100 this month on crap from Mel's - stuff I really didn't need to buy, but couldn't stop myself. I knew there as a reason I stopped going there for a month!

I get really tired of recipes that tell me to double the recipe up and freeze it. This is a problem for me because:
A) I am only cooking for one person anyway, doubling it up would make enough for 8 servings;
B) I don't have a really big freezer;
C) I don't have a microwave, so reheating food is just as much a pain as cooking it the first time was, and;
D) I tend to forget about things in the freezer, and eventually end up throwing them out.

Whew.

Anywhooo, to wit, I am trying to plan ahead, so that my next grocery trip will be an organized, list-following extravaganza.

Sunday Brunch

Well, it was not actually brunch - more like a late breakfast, but it was nice. A few strips of turkey bacon, some hashbrowns mixed with salsa, and an egg. Yes, salsa contains vinegar (and probably sugar, too) so it wasn't quite dysbiosis-halal, but it was a nice little brekkie.

It's a greyish day in Faro - Kennie used the word "snain" for what they're having in Ross, but here it's intermittently drizzly. That's unfortunate, because today is the town's Clean Up Day, in preparation for next weekend's Festival. I don't know about the general public, but I certainly am less than enthused about picking up trash in this kind of weather. Even the thought of the Hot Dog BBQ to follow is not lifting my spirits.

But for the next two hours at least, my focus is on the house. There are prospective buyers coming to look at the place on Wednesday, so I need to get it spiffed up. Ever since I got a dining room table, I have been piling things on top of it. I guess I needed a gentle reminder that piling things is a common habit of hoarders, and I do not want to be a hoarder, do I?

Off to work!

Time-delay

So, it was brough to my attention last night that, while I relayed the tale of last Sunday's adventure on my Facebook, I did not blog about it over here. That is true. Part of the reason was my going over my internet limit part-way through the week, and the other part was sheer laziness. That's not good.

So to recap - last Saturday I got myself all morosed up over some stupid comment a girl I used to know made, and then I chopped wood to make myself feel better. You had to be there, I guess.

So, the next morning, I decided to chop more wood. I really like my axe - it makes splitting logs a breeze. I split a whole bunch, and then stacked them at the back of the garage. I was impressed with the end result of my work, and I decided I needed to take a photo to prove to the people back home that I am becoming a tough and independent wilderness woman. (Because there is some doubt about my transformation.)

So I went upstairs (changing out of my shoes and into my slippers), grabbed my camera, and went back downstairs. I took pictures of the stacked firewood (with bonus pictures of the kindling pile), sighed with smug contentment, and went back upstairs to the couch to bask in the warmth of the fire I had started before my wood chopping.

Well, that is, I intended to to go back upstairs to do that stuff. Unfortunately, I couldn't open the door into the house. The door had closed behind me, locking me in the garage. You see, it turns out that the door had always been locked, but it had opened and closed many times - I figured it was one of those things where the house had shifted (kind of like my back door that doesn't open).

So, I was locked in the garage. In my slippers. Luckily, a few weeks earlier I had figured out the bizarre contraption that opened the outside garage door, so I was not completely trapped, but I spent several claustrophobic minutes trying to open the door into the house. There was no joy there, so I opened the outer door and tried to work out my options.

There was no way I could see to get back in. The front door was locked, as it always is, and there was no way to get the back door open. My only hope was that my next door neighbour Pat was home, and that she still had a key to the house (she looks after my landlord's properties in town). But that meant I had to walk down my driveway, up the street, and up Pat's driveway (all of which were incredibly muddy) in my black satin grandma slippers.

The long and short of it is...I got back in the house, nothing burned down, and I have learned an important lesson about checking the door between the house and the garage carefully before letting it close behind me.



Here is the picture of my firewood pile that got me locked in a garage.