I am currently suffering from a wicked cold. I’m all mouth-breather and runny-nose-sniffler right now. I’m also hopped up on Sudafed and other stuff. I feel really bad for the poor court clerk I talked to this morning. We had a nice, long chat about letters rogatory and she had to listen to my raspy, fading, nasally voice for about 10 minutes while we hashed out what the hell a letter rogatory is. (Short answer: a giant pain in the ass.)
Anyway, I’m all stuffy and drugged and I just have nothing interesting to talk about. So here’s a list of random junk for you.
The zipper on my pants is broken. I was packing up clothes to take to Goodwill and couldn’t figure out why these pants were in the pile. They’re my size, they’re a nice wool/silk blend, and they’re black…what the hell? So I put them on today. And about 11:00 this morning I noticed my zipper was down and then every couple of minutes for the rest of the day I had to yank it back up. Now I remember why they were in the pile.
I cannot blowdry my hair with a round brush. Just can’t. I don’t have the patience to blowdry my hair anyway, but add the stupid brush into the mix and watch me lose my mind. Today I pulled my chin length hair into a half-assed ponytail and pinned all the too-short pieces back with bobby-pins. I look like I let a pair of 5-year-old girls do my hair, but at least it was out of my face while I dealt with the letter rogatory B.S. today.
One of my coworkers has been running around the office with untreated strep throat. Said coworker is well aware of their illness and well aware of the communicability of the illness but “does not have the time” to go to the doctor and cannot stay home. Fine. But when I come down with strep, I’m not treating it. I’m waiting for coworker to get better and then I’m going to lick their coffee cup.
I have a picture on my desktop at work of the beach in St. Croix and I catch myself staring at it far more often than I should. I keep flashing to how the mister and I walked by the courthouse nearly every day and passed dozens of lawyers’ offices. I bet I could totally get a job down there. And then I’d get to live in the Caribbean. Sounds pretty good, yeah?
I have no idea what to do for Christmas this year. I have no money, no time to make gifts, and no creativity to come up with alternate solutions. It’s stressing me out.
I also have no idea how the mister and I are going to work holidays this year. The past few years he’s gone to his parents’ house and I’ve gone to mine. Because they’re only about a half hour apart, we both manage to see both families, but for most of the day, I’m in one place and he’s in another. The one day he and I managed to stay together the whole day we ended up eating two turkey dinners. I was comatose for a week after that. Last year we hosted Christmas Eve and while it was a lot of work (for me, anyway; the mister put beer in a cooler and was all “what, we have to do more?”), it was nice because everyone came to our house and we didn’t have to monkey around. We might try it again but this time I will leave work early instead of rushing home at 5:30 to get everything ready. Plus I’d like to actually make it to Mass this year instead of being too busy cooking to go to early Mass and too tired to go to midnight Mass.
This whole being a grown up thing sucks.