Another day, another box of stolen pens

Not *actual* stolen pens, of course. It's just a line from an old episode of the Simpsons. But I say it every Monday morning.

Technically, it's Monday afternoon already, so I'm running late.

I got two things off my desk this morning, but already I feel behind. It's hard to separate my job and my life, especially when I don't have much of a life outside of the job. That's what happened in Japan - all I had was the job, and I hated the job.

I don't want to be like that again. I want work to end when I leave the office, and I want to be moderately excited about going to work in the morning. When I'm away, I want to be happy - I don't want the thought of returning to work to make me sad. Sure, Tuesdays might be long on meeting days, but they're once every two weeks. I can handle it.

I am enjoying going to aerobics classes - sure, I groan and curse while I'm there, but I always feel so good after feeling so bad. I like hanging out with Matt and Kara, and I look forward to meeting more people in town.

Perhaps I will bring an Easter Egg for my desk, to remind me that there is life outside the office.

No such thing as "delayed gratification"

Now that I have ordered the fabric, I want nothing more than to have it here immediately. It doesn't matter that I haven't finished the rainbow quilt yet, or that I should probably spend time doing dishes or putting together my outfits for the week (don't judge me, it totally helps me out in the mornings). All I want is new fabric for messing around with.

I get headaches on Sundays...I think they are psychosomatic in nature. Just knowing that tomorrow is Monday, everything inside my head gets turned around. Either that or I have a delayed hangover from having some coolers on Friday night. And that seems unlikely.

Perhaps it's time to put a lasagna in the oven and pull the covers over my head ^_^

Aerobics = Pain

Every time I move, I wince, and it is all because of aerobics at the Rec Centre last night.

I feel bad, but in a good way, I guess.

Of course, that could also be because I just ordered enough fabric for a new quilt from an online store today...bad, bad Erica. I haven't even finished the one I am currently working on, and I have two that I've already pieced that need quilting. The problem with them is that I left them with my boxes in Ontario and still don't know how I'm going to get my stuff up here. So I will need something to work on real soon.

(You see how easily I can justify my rampant internet spending? So easily!)

Anywhoodle, it's a new colour palette/pattern family for me, and I am excited at the thought of having something new to do in the future. I can use my fabulous sewing machine that Kara picked up for me in WH. Now all I need is a rotary cutter...and a flying geese ruler...and an iron and ironing board.

Stop borrowing trouble.

I have a phone now!

And other smiley news ^_^

A guy in Whitehorse to whom I had submitted a final report (for a project whose name I daren't type lest the Internetz cause me to lose my job) called me yesterday to tell me that the report I put together was excellent - easy to read, containing all the pertinent information, and just all around well done. He has issued a cheque rec, so some money should be coming in. Hooray!

My internet should be hooked up at home within the next week, so I will be able to blog all the time. Look out, Internetz!

Apparently, I have earned myself an intervention because of my last post...it's nice to have people care, even though I sekritly fear pushing them away because I am needy.

Okay, time for Pai Mu Tan tea and getting some stuff done! Woo-hoo Tuesday! Exclamation points!

Pyjama Day

Not my actual pyjamas, of course, that wouldn't be appropriate for the office. But the outfit I am wearing as as close as my business clothes come to being pyjamas - black trousers and this crazy, stretchy patterned dress that my mother hates and told me not to bring with me.

She says it is unflattering and makes me look pregnant - I know it is a good pregnancy dress, because I sold it (well, not this dress, its twin, obviously) to a pregnant Muslim woman who wore it over her maternity pants...she changed into it in the store, and she was so adorably cute I wanted to squeal. By some fluke, her plain hijab matched the red in the pattern, and she was one of those glowing pregnant women who make carrying twenty pounds on their stomach look like no big deal.

I digress.

The point is, the dress may not be flattering, but it is super-comfortable, and reminds me of a nice person who was looking forward to an amazing moment in her life. Wearing this pyjama-like dress is like putting on a hug and wearing it all day.

I had a bad night. My hair is falling out and my skin is flaking off, I have a headache that won't go away, and my very nice neighbour asked me (earlier in the day) how I was doing, lonely-wise, and last night I just fell apart.

I've been stressed about work, and I put my elbow through my brand-new couch (long story), and I miss my best friend and my cats and my mom, and I don't have a phone yet, and e-Harmony keeps mailing out these emails about finding love over Valentine's Day, and I wonder if I jumped too far with my eyes closed...

Night is the worst time. I can keep myself busy enough during the day that there isn't time for navel-gazing, but there's not enough to distract me at night.

So early!

So, I dragged my behind out of a nice, plush, cozy, warm bed and made my way down to the office an hour earlier than usual on this chilly Friday morning (and no, I don't know the actual temperature, I haven't invested in a thermometer yet, but I can tell it's chillier than usual because the parts of my jacket near my face froze from breath-condensation)...because I scheduled a phone date with my parents this morning.

See, I haven't yet arranged for phone and internet in my new house...mostly because I am suffering a slight $$ shortage until next Wednesday. That money, too, will slip through my fingers like water...heating oil is not cheap.

At any rate, it was lovely to talk to my parentals - they are scheduling a trip up here in June (and bringing my fuzzy mens to me, oh frabjous day!) and wanted to confirm that I could take some time off, and that we could tour around. I am excited for my parents and my cats to come, and now have to think about what kind of things I can do with them. It also means I need to get cracking on getting a vehicle.

Now I am left with half an hour before work actually begins - I'm all alone in the office, and could sing or dance, or do any number of things. I'll probably do some work, though ^_^

It's official

I no longer live in the Studio Hotel.

I had some grand times there (okay, maybe not grand) and it helped me ease my way into life in Faro, but I am off to the greener pastures of the Upper Bench. (Ah, the Upper Bench, so easy to walk to work, so incredibly painful to walk home.)

Friday night I did manage to get to Kara and Matt's for supper, where I tried moose roast for the first time - delish! And it was nice to have conversation with other people, and to play with the baby, and to get drooled on by the grey cat. I went home afterward to pack...and wound up finishing my current batch of Easter Eggs.

Naturally, that meant I had to wake up at the crack of dawn on Saturday to pack up my belongings. "No problem," I said to myself, "it's not like I have much stuff. I came up here with two suitcases, and I've only been to Whitehorse once."

Unfortunately for me, the hotel room was like the TARDIS - I couldn't believe how much stuff was crammed inside closets and dresser drawers. All in all, I managed to fill the back of Kara and Matt's truck...and none of that was furniture.

So, packing packing packing, then carrying carrying carrying things down to the truck, and carrying carrying carrying things into the house, and then more carrying up the stairs.

After a while of unpacking, I decided I needed junk food, so I walked down to the store. Big mistake. I had not realized just how dreadful the walk back up would be. By the time I got home (an hour later), my legs were trembling and I was weaving from side to side like I was drunk.

Long story short, if you heard intermittent whimpering and groaning on Sunday, that was me - every time I moved my arms or legs, I was in agony. It was a pity no one was around to shower me with attention and chocolates...no matter how badly I wanted chocolate, there was no way I was walking to the store again.