Author Archives: mohawkvalleygirl

Too Sick to Type Anything Good

I called in sick to work today, and I am taking a Bloggers’ Sick Day. On the one hand, you might think I would not have to. After all, I spent the day sleeping and trying to hydrate (a doctor told me the body can ride out many things if it just stays hydrated). One might think I would be feeling better enough to write something decent (wait a minute, would this be one of those hypothetical people we discussed yesterday? Never mind). It has often been observed, I can’t do anything about what other people think about me.

I am feeling marginally better. I woke up in the night with dreadful insomnia. After striving NOT to toss and turn for a couple of hours, my stomach started in. I’ll spare you a blow by blow of my sufferings, but it was bad. I am a HUGE baby when I am sick, and this was worse than my usual sinus, headache, light-headed things that I seem to spend so much time complaining about. One thing about intense nausea, when it finally goes away, I feel SO HAPPY! When the headache goes away, too, my life will be perfect.

Being sick makes for quite the boring day. Sleep felt good when I finally got some, but I couldn’t sleep all day. I read a little, but my head didn’t like that. I thought about turning on the TV but couldn’t quite make up my mind to (indecisiveness is often another symptom of these illnesses). I got on Facebook, but all I could think of was this other (terrible) job I had. A guy had called in sick, and the boss said, “But he was on Facebook this morning.” I was not even on Facebook at the time, but I remember thinking, “Oh, come on, to sit in front of the computer and maybe hit a few keys, you can do that with your head in your hands feeling awful. Getting stuff done at work, not so much.”

This morning, I wondered if any of my Facebook work friends would say, “She can’t be too sick; she was on Facebook.” So I made sure I posted how awful I was feeling. Then I felt guilty, because other people have far worse illnesses than mine (see above statement about me being a baby). Then I got off Facebook, because my head was hurting again.

My husband just looked over and said, “It sounds like you’re saying more than, ‘I’m taking a blogger’s sick day.'” Thus proving my point that you can type in dire circumstances. However, as the late, great Truman Capote once said, “That’s not writing, that’s typing.”

Hypothetically Blogging

I’ve got it! Monday Mental Meanderings. This is my new feature. It replaces Monday Middle-aged Musings, which I have mentioned I don’t particularly like. But who could dislike mental meanderings? Oh, I suppose somebody could. Well, that unpleasant hypothetical person does not have to read this.

Here’s a contradiction I just noticed about myself. I hate hypothetical questions yet I constantly have conversations with hypothetical critics. I say they are imaginary conversations (usually arguments) with people in my head (or is that conversations in my head with imaginary people?), but I’m pretty sure they are also hypothetical. Wait a minute. I was just about to embark on a diatribe against hypothetical questions when it occurred to me that I may have already published such a thing. A pause while I check.

A cursory check of past posts revealed nothing. So I continue. I hate hypothetical questions because they usually assume the impossible. “Your house is on fire. All family and pets are saved. You have time to go back and save one object. What do you save?” That’s RIDICULOUS! You don’t go back into a burning house and save one object! That’s asking for death! “Yeah,” says the questioner, “but if you could?”

“YOU CAN’T!!!” I repeat.

Then there’s my favorite (I can’t believe I never put this in a blog post before, but I don’t mind repeating myself): “If you could invite any three people, living or dead to dinner, who would you invite?” For God’s sake, I can’t invite three people who live in this town to dinner and count on them all being able to make it on the same night, never mind the Nobel prize winners or movie stars people usually answer this question with. However, my answer to the question is, “I would invite three dead people, because they wouldn’t eat too much. They also wouldn’t talk too much. It is a well-known fact that dead men tell no tales.”

BUT, one may argue, what if somebody asked you a hypothetical question that did NOT assume the impossible?

Waaaait a minute! Did a hypothetical person just ask me a hypothetical question? I just told you, Homey don’t play that!

Here is a non-hypothetical question: What does anybody think about Monday Mental Meanderings?

Almost Perfect

I preface this post by saying that I have just had a lovely day. I had a fun visit with some of my family, ate a wonderful dinner, and now I am home relaxing with my husband and dog. It is the bra off, sweats on portion of the day. The only thing lacking in my day is to hit Publish on my blog post. Then my life will be perfect.

That is something I am fond of saying, “And then my life will be perfect.” I seem to think I coined the phrase one morning in the army. I was still an IET soldier (Initial Entry Trainee), when they made you do all kinds of ridiculous things. On this morning we had to be in Class B uniforms, standing outside in the cold for an interminable length of time. Class B meant skirt, pantyhose and pumps (although I could and later did wear comfy flat tie shoes with the skirt) (there are pants for female Class B as well; I don’t remember if they specifically told us to wear the skirts or if I just could not be bothered to keep my shirt, belt and fly straight on the pants).

Where was I? Ah yes, standing out in an unusually cold day (Monterrey, California was usually a pretty straight 70 degrees), with my toes becoming numb. Cadre was ignoring us but not dismissing us to class, and we were muttering to each other under our breath. I did not want to sound like a big fat whiner (I know, that’s what I pretty much am, but sometimes I don’t want to sound that way), so I said, “If I could take off my shoes and rub my feet for thirty seconds, my life would be perfect.”

Now I know, my life will never be PERFECT. But, really, doesn’t that sound much better than, “My toes are so cold I think I will cry”? So I know I will not have a perfect Sunday. Yet, I hope to avoid my usual Wrist to Forehead Sunday. For one reason, I feel somehow not right having a Wrist to Forehead Sunday on Easter. However, we all know I am rarely up to writing a real post on a Sunday. Also on the Wrist to Forehead side of the scale, holiday or not, I have to work tomorrow. I fight, fight, fight the urge to jump on the Monday Sucks, Everything Sucks bandwagon, but, well, let’s just say, Sunday is not always the thrill I am hoping for.

Back to the Life is Almost Perfect side of the scale, I see I am over 400 words. A more than respectable post! I shall soon hit Publish! Everything will be delightful (that is another favorite expression of mine).

Come on, Spring!

Technically, Saturday Running Commentary could come back today, but I don’t feel like writing about that run. I ran in place on the mini-tramp, because it was raining and snowing. I watched the rest of that silent movie The Monster that I was watching before (took me three runs to see the whole thing) (and I’m still not clear on who the titular monster was). It continued to precipitate on and off for the rest of the morning, with the wind whistling in an alarming fashion (I always worry somebody will come along and drop a house on me) (it happened to a sister of mine once; long story), so I drove to the post office instead of taking my usual walk with Tabby. This afternoon, however, the sun came out and I thought I would give it a try and perhaps write a Pedestrian Post.

I hid upstairs while I changed sneakers, so Tabby would not get too excited too soon. Of course that merely delayed the inevitable. She was jumping and barking long before I was done puttering around looking for hat, gloves and poop bags. At last we were on our way.

The sidewalks were almost completely bare and dry. I reminded myself to appreciate that and not repine over the dropping temperature. For heavens’ sake, it was in the 60s yesterday. Did it have to drop all the way into the 30s? I kept telling myself it was above freezing, resolutely refusing to speculate on what temperature the windchill was inducing. Tabby did not seem to notice anything but trotted along happily, stopping many times to sniff.

We headed down Bellinger Street toward Meyers Park, Tabby leading the way. I looked around, testing my theory that sunshine makes anything look better. I suppose it does, but I am tired of seeing brown grass and bare trees. Courage, I told myself. Things will grow eventually. At least a lot of the snow is melting. Of course, one effect of that is a lot of old dog poo is appearing. I tried to keep Tabby from sniffing it. “You know what poo smells like,” I tell her. Oh, I know, she probably smells a lot more variation that I do.

Every once in a while the wind would completely die out and I would feel warm sunshine. It never lasted long, but it gave me hope. However, soon the wind started whipping more coldly and my sinuses were not happy. I persevered, because Tabby was so obviously enjoying herself. Also, I must admit, the walk felt good on my legs. I do love to walk. I tried to concentrate on that and ignore the wind. It helps that I have a sweet, cute dog. I look at her trotting along and I feel better about everything.

As we approached home I saw some shoots coming out of the dirt at a neighbor’s house. Yes! Something growing! That makes three houses where I have observed signs of life. It was really not a bad walk, but I sure did appreciate a cup of hot tea when I got home.

Not Lengthy, But Lame

Well, I made it to Lame Post Friday. I know, I’ve been pretty lame all week. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I just feel brain dead and disinclined to do anything. It is uncomfortable for me and does not make for interesting reading for you. But I shall persevere and hope you will stick with me till things get better.

Lame Post Friday is traditionally my day for random observations and half-baked philosophy. First a word about half-baked philosophy. A Facebook friend of mine (not a good friend) insists on constantly making the observation that half-baked philosophy is gooey and doughy. It’s an EXPRESSION for Gods’ sake! You don’t need to bring up a disgusting mental image. But if we must view it as a metaphor, sometimes half-baked is crunchy, as in pasta or vegetables. Sometimes it is liable to break on impact, as in pottery. Sometimes it is just cold in the middle, as in any number of things you might bake. So there.

Enough about half-baked philosophy, how about some random observations? I saw an extremely happy dog bouncing about at the end of his leash this morning. I wanted so bad to roll down my window and call, “Look at that happy dog!” Sometimes people are happy to hear you say such things, sometimes not so much. I shan’t attempt any half-baked philosophy as to why that would be so.

My favorite observations of the week was some green shoots coming up in one neighbor’s lawn and some little purple flowers in another. It IS spring! Yay!

And that is what I have for today. Lame and short. I hope you’re all having a lovely Friday.

I Triumph

Endorphins still elude me. In fact, I almost titled this post “Still No Endorphins.” However, I wanted to strike a more positive note, because my run was not without its rewards. Still, it took a while to get there. So this may be a lengthy post. We’ll see.

Today was a delightfully warm day, even warmer than one expects in early April, with highs of 60. I knew I would run. I knew I would wear shorts and a t-shirt to run. I hoped it would be a good run. By the time I got home and ready to run, I had my doubts. I must not get enough vitamins or something. Nevertheless, I set out.

I had started a little later than usual, because I had made a stop on the way home from work. I wondered if the delay could be why I was able to immediately cross German Street. This boded well for either of my plans. My first plan had been to run up to Herkimer County Community College (HCCC) the back way. This is less steep but longer than the front way. Less overtly daunting but I believe equally challenging. As I felt tired and not motivated I thought I would do the hill by Valley Health and then on into the suburbs.

As I went out German, I was not enjoying the upgrade. I couldn’t run up to HCCC. I wasn’t even sure I could do the hill by Valley Health, but since I had crossed German I supposed I would. I went by the entrance to Brookfield Park. Oh, too steep too soon. I turned up — oh crap, I can’t remember the street’s name, but it is a residential street that leads to the back way up to HCCC. And it begins with an upslope. Ugh. This wasn’t fun. When was running going to get fun again?

As I pondered the unfunness of my run and regretted that my Running Commentary might be a litany of complaint, I wondered if I had jinxed myself. We’ve been talking about running at work, because some of us plan to run the Boilermaker. One co-worker expressed himself as NOT a runner; he thinks running is dumb. “I LOVE to run,” I informed him, more than once. Dammit, why wasn’t I loving it?

I had a few choices of where to run next. The first left would take me DOWNHILL and eventually back the way I came. The first right, a little further up, would take me into the residential area I refer to as the suburbs. The second left (opposite the first right, incidentally) would take me the back way to HCCC. I did NOT want to go that way. However, as I ran I was as usual narrating in my head, planning my blog post. Suddenly I felt that I could not write in my blog that I had wussed out. If I was going to write about this run, I was going uphill. I made the second left.

However, first I bargained thusly with myself: my run time is up to 32 minutes. I would run up the hill for half of that time, 16 minutes (in case you didn’t feel like doing the math). I probably wouldn’t make it to the top, but I would be going uphill for a good portion of my run. Oh dear, just look at that hill. This was the less steep way? Oh well, I wanted to be running up to HCCC as soon as possible.

I continued uphill, looking at my watch often and counting how many minutes till 16. “Just look at your feet and shuffle up that hill,” I told myself, echoing a long followed piece of running advice. I looked ahead at how far I had to go. I can’t say looking down was that much easier. I saw the stream to my left, bubbling busily downhill. Ah, downhill. Where gravity is my friend.

I suppose my title was kind of a spoiler and astute readers have already guessed I made it to the top. It got to a point where I knew I would, but that last little bit, where it goes steep again, was a bit of a struggle. My breathing got a little dicey. And then I was making another left. I was NOT going to turn around and run back the way I came! I was going down the front way! This was GREAT! Running was still not fun, but it was SO SATISFYING! Oh, I was bad ass.

Some students were hanging out in the dorm parking lot as I ran by. They were listening to music and tossing a frisbee. I wanted to call over and ask where the beer was. A little further up I saw three kids standing on the path, talking. They looked more approachable, although I did not, in fact, approach them.

“Those guys over there didn’t invite me to their party,” I called.

“Us neither!” a guy answered, as mystified as I was by the omission.

The euphoria I had experienced at the top of the hill was short-lived. The rest of my run home seemed to take a long time, and my body was not loving it. I suppose this is the kind of run I have to live through. I know it is the kind of run that occurs occasionally even when I have been running regularly for a long time. For now I can only look forward to when I can write a blog post about a run where I feel it is FUN. Maybe I’ll finally get some of them there endorphins.

My Non-Consecutive Week Continues

This is my third consecutive day of not having a terrible headache. Isn’t that wonderful? Wouldn’t you think I would be busily writing away, words falling from my fingers to the page, blog post, novel, play, LET’S GO!

I know, some of you are sitting there saying, “I wouldn’t think that.” Some people have no faith in me. And some people are no doubt wondering if their faith in me was misplaced, as I write Yet Another Post About Not Being Able to Write a Post.

A digression: previously I have talked about Posts About Why I Can’t Write a Post Today. Which is fine, when I actually know why I can’t write a post. Since I sometimes don’t, I switched to Posts About How I Can’t Write a Post Today. Then just now as I was typing, I thought, a Post About Not Being Able to Write a Post. Tomorrow I may come up with something else, except in the unlikely event I can actually write a post. One must be prepared for anything.

On another unrelated note, I inadvertently hit some combination of keys on my computer which made the letters on the screen get all itty bitty. It is difficult to see what I an typing. Damn my presbyopia!

So I see that after having Tired Tuesday on a Monday, Wuss-out Wednesday on a Tuesday, I seem to be having… oh, I know some of you saw it coming, Non-Sequitur Thursday on a Wednesday! No matter, whatever it is, it’s over 200 words. I’ll try again tomorrow.

Wuss-out Words

Yesterday I had Tired Tuesday on a Monday. Today I’m having Wuss-out Wednesday on a Tuesday. I offer no apologies. These things happen.

I went running, thinking to offer a Running Commentary. I narrated in my head while I ran, even editing, because I was afraid it would be too much like the Running Commentary immediately previous. But I can’t do it.

Of course it would have been better to write my blog post while at work. I worked on a letter first, hoping to ease into it. Unfortunately, I had brought some Cryptoquote puzzles I cut out of the Herkimer Telegram newspaper and couldn’t resist solving a few of those. I love cryptogram puzzles. I feel so clever when I figure them out.

In the letter I stated that by my rules any writing counts, letters, TV Journal, anything that puts pen to paper. As long as I’m stringing together words. I can just hear somebody huffing, “What, you can just write down random words and that counts as writing?” I explain, shut up (that’s an homage to S.J. Perelman). I have never actually written a mere list of unrelated words, but I’m going to declare right now that yes, it would count.

Table, rug, dog, sleeping husband, People’s Court on television. These are not unrelated words, they are things in my immediate line of vision. How about some random words? Cigarette, avocado, rent, persuasion, nonchalant. That’s not easy, thinking of random words, but it’s kind of fun. Try it.

As for me, I will try to write some non-random words in my TV Journal. Any maybe go for a better blog post tomorrow. Hope you’re all having a lovely week, whatever day you feel it is.

Post-Pain Post

Somebody at work today said it was Tuesday. In a sense it is, because we have Friday off. A four day week. I am quite delighted. For me it is like a Tuesday for a different reason: I am tired! All I want to make is a Tired Tuesday post!

I had thought I could do a Middle-aged Musings Monday. But I could not think of anything to muse about. I’m not so nuts about Middle-aged Musings Monday anyways. I mean, nobody uses the term “muse” in that sense any more. Once in a while somebody talks about having a muse, or being someone’s muse. Like in the TV show Castle, where Becket is Castle’s muse (I love that show).

So I tried to think of a different Monday thing. The Monday Malaise? I believe I used that as a title once. I wonder if the post was any good. Perhaps I’ll look it up and see…

Read it. I liked it, but I have an unfortunate tendency to like almost everything I write. That being the case, one might think I would have more self-confidence as a writer and not spend so much time listening to and arguing with my inner critics. Then again, I have enough self-confidence to hit Publish when I have typed in a bunch of foolishness like this.

I think this is after headache syndrome. I recall last week after having a bad headache one day, I did not have one the next yet wrote a ridiculous post. Yesterday I had a headache. Today I did not. Oh well, I’m going to slap a headline on this, hit Publish and hope for the best. I only wish I could think of a title with a little alliteration. Oh, wait, I think I’ve got one.

At Least the Tea Will Taste Good

Looking back, I see that last Sunday I did a Running Commentary and two Sundays ago I had a Wrist to Forehead Sunday. Today (Sunday, but I think you knew that) I had meant to have a Running Commentary but feel more inclined for a Wrist to Forehead Sunday. Perhaps a combination of the two.

Sorry to be tiresome about my health tribulations, but I have been plagued with headaches this week. It has been kind of an interesting plague, though. I seem to get a bad headache every other day. So at least there is some relief. I know, not for you from listening to my complaints. Well I don’t get much relief from my inner critic. We all have problems.

I was determined to run in spite of my headache. For one reason, the weather was supposed to be warmer. I spent part of yesterday staring out the window at the bare roads and sidewalks and WANTING to run or walk on them. But I was afraid the cold wind would bring on sinus pain. I ran in place on the mini-tramp. I watched more of that silent horror movie I had watched earlier in the week (perhaps you read my blog post about it).

When we first got up our thermostat said 18 degrees. Not the temperature I like to run in. I waited till after eleven. It was almost to 30. Only a few degrees below freezing. I could do this!

And I did. Unfortunately, I am not up to writing about it. I’m just not. I’ve taken a decongestant and will try the effect of another cup of hot tea. And try for a better blog post tomorrow.