Category Archives: Tired Tuesday

Better Luck Next Tired

Full disclosure:  I did not intend to do a running commentary today.  I wrote a blog post while on breaks at work.  Unfortunately, it is too long for me to type in tonight.  Give me a break, it’s Tired Tuesday!  Could it be I am tired because I ran?  No!  I was tired to begin with.  I invite you to read on…

I spent the last couple of  hours at work telling myself that it was a VERY GOOD IDEA that I go running.  Actually, I was thinking things like, “I must, I positively must run”  and “I have to run tonight, I HAVE to.”  I re-phrased it to “very good idea” in order to short circuit my naturally rebellious nature.  Still, when it poured rain for a short time, I had a moment of hope that I would be off the hook. Only a moment, though.  In the first place, I figured it would stop raining.  In the second place, I have a mini-tramp on which I can run in place during inclement weather.

The rain stopped after a very short time.  It was sunny and breezy by the time I headed home.  Steven was already there.

“A  twenty minute  run will be sufficient for my purposes today,” I said.  I had hopes that I would run for longer once I got going, but it is difficult to predict these things.

To begin with the run was not much fun.  The sun was hot, I knew that going in.  The cooling breeze blew up into a strong wind that was dead against me.  What was that all about? Never mind, I told myself.  It will just take me longer to get from point A to point B. I wondered if it was going to rain again.  It seemed there was not a cloud in the sky, except for a few fluffy, harmless-looking white puffs. No sudden storm was going to let me off the hook ten minutes in.  That was all right too.  Just keep going.

I had a vague thought to run up the hill to Herkimer College.  I wondered if I would make it.  I have previously stated that once I start up a hill it is almost a foregone conclusion that I will make it to the top.  The question was, would I start?  I  turned at Lou Ambers Drive.  I considered stopping at the spring for a quick sip, but it wasn’t that long  into the run.  Besides, I had been drinking water all day.  Surely I was hydrated (I’ll call you Shirley if I feel like it).

The road has a bit of an upslope, then goes level, then goes steeply up, around a curve and up some more.  I was still on the gentle upslope when the wind against me got even stronger.  It cost a great effort to move even at my middle-aged shuffle.  I decided I would NOT go all the way up the hill.  After all, I did not intend to write a blog post about the run.  I would not have to embarrassedly confess to my readers that I started up a hill and turned off.  I would turn off into the residential area (which I like to call the suburbs) and perhaps run a hill or two there.

The  wind got stronger yet.  I was not all the way up the upslope when I said, “To Hell with this!” and turned around.  The wind almost immediately died down rather than give me a nice push. I have to wonder about that.  Was it all psychological? Or maybe a ghost?  I ask these questions now as I write this. At the time I merely felt a grim  satisfaction at having said, “To hell with it.”

I went through the parking lot of Salvatore’s, because there was some nice shade. I spent a good part of the rest of the run looking at my watch to make sure I at least ran twenty minutes.   It looked as if I would just make it. My body was not feeling any happier with me. I knew I could keep going, but it was not going to get fun.  I thought, “If I’m not into it by now, I am not going to be into it today.”

When I got back to my street, my run unexpectedly lengthened. I had crossed the street, which put me on the same side as a little dog.  I  did not want to disturb the dog, so I continued down the  block and ran up the street parallel to mine.  I felt vaguely pleased with myself over this.  The run still wasn’t fun, but I knew I could keep going.  Many of us, I reflected, can keep going for longer than we think  we can.

I ended up running for 28 minutes.  It would have been nice to make it at least a half hour, but I felt happy that I had gone over my self-mandated twenty.  As I walked my cool-down, I complimented some neighbors on a beautiful new porch they are putting up.  They said thank you. Perhaps now I can go  sit on my own perfectly attractive old porch.   Like I said, I’m tired.

 

Only Tuesday?

I wrote a post while at work today (yes, Boss, while on a break) (oh yeah, like my boss reads my blog; I don’t think he even knows I write one).  And I just can’t post it.  It may be all right as stands, it may need editing, I may not use it.  I just can’t work with these things right now.  Yes, my dears, it is Tired Tuesday.

How is it only Tuesday, anyways?  When I look at all the things I have to and want to get done this week, it seems such a ridiculously short period of time.  Then I see how far away Friday and my fun weekend seem and I say, damn.  Of course one must fight the prevailing attitude to despise the week and only enjoy the weekend.  What’s that all about anyways?  We have seven days a week.  Why would anybody choose to be happy for two of them and miserable for five?

Oh dear, now we are getting into some half-baked philosophy, which I usually reserve for Lame Post Friday.  The subject of “choosing” happiness is a sore  spot for me anyways.  We can’t always choose how we feel.  Sometimes, I say, you just have to feel that way until you don’t feel that way any more.  For example, right now I feel tired.

However, I would like to write something other than “I’m tired” in this blog post.  I can give you a brief update on the novel.  It is not going well.  I’ve written a couple of scenes and partial scenes.  They are all very well, but they do not seem to lead anywhere.  I think I need a little more “because of this, then that,” if you see what I mean.

There, how’s that?  Three paragraphs about how tired I am, then four sentences about my novel, which tell you absolutely nothing about it.  I really gotta love writing a blog. Hope to see you all on Wuss-out Wednesday.

 

Just Stop the Stitch!

There was a moment in my run this afternoon when I thought to myself, “I don’t care if I don’t get any endorphins, as long as that stitch doesn’t come back!”

 

It was a long run.  Not as long as my longest run so far, but long enough.  I ran hills.  Not the hill up to Herkimer College, but a couple of very long hills in a residential area near the college (I usually refer to it as the suburbs, but I know that is not accurate).  I was running slowly but with determination.  I felt pleased with myself to be going uphill for such a long period of time.  This was great preparation for the Boilermaker!

 

And then the stitch started.  It was sharp. It was painful.  Oh dear.  I took deep breaths and stretched my arms over my head.  Stretch, breath, repeat.  It did not help.  Was that a rumble of thunder in the distance?  Was I about to get poured on?  I had a vision of a kind motorist stopping for a drenched runner to offer a ride home, because of the thunder and lightning.  There was very little traffic, so I knew that was a remote chance.  I did not hear the thunder again, if it was even thunder to begin with.  It did not rain.

 

Eventually I was running downhill.  This was not horrible.  Miraculously, the stitch went away.  Oh, the dear sweet sensation of NOT being in pain.  Who needed endorphins? I had lost the stitch.

 

I avoided hills for the rest of the run.  I never did get any endorphins, but I reached the coveted “I Can Rock This” stage.  It did not last, but no matter.  I ran.  I SHALL be prepared for the Boilermaker.

 

Note: in this blog, when I say “Boilermaker,” I mean the Boilermaker 15K.  I find it too cluttered to specify the 15K every time I mention it.

 

I realize that this is much shorter than my usual Running Commentary posts.  I was noticing stuff as I ran and as usual narrating in my head, but now I just can’t seem to type in any of the good stuff.  All I can say is, it’s Tired Tuesday.  I managed to run, I managed a post.  I’m done.  Thank you for reading.

 

For Tabby on Tired Tuesday

Sorry, kids, it’s Tired Tuesday. I did work on a blog post today, about Saturday’s adventures, but it needs more work and I have completely petered out. In my defense, I did laundry. Hmm, that doesn’t sound like much of a defense. So don’t forgive me. In the meantime, I offer a Pedestrian Post with thanks to my beloved schnoodle, Tabby.

I neither walked nor ran yesterday, and my legs definitely felt the lack. And my conscience felt the guilt from not walking my dog (although she got a nice long walk with both her peeps Sunday, in addition to walking my cool-down with me after my run). Therefore, after I got the laundry in the house and the non-drier items hanging in various places, I got Tabby into her harness and we were on our way.

It was still nicely warm out, somewhere in the 60s I believe. Many people were out and about. A couple of neighborhood kids said hi to us, and one unknown college-looking kid said hi to Tabby. Tabby led me down Bellinger Street to Meyers Park.

I still haven’t gotten over my delight at all the snow being gone, so I felt contented to be outside in addition to my legs’ enjoyment of the exercise. We saw two young boys playing baseball in the park. At least, one had a glove and ball, the other had a bat. I suppose it was just batting practice, or else they had vivid imaginations (nothing wrong with that!).

After the park we headed towards Main Street and the downtown area. I looked longingly at Basloe Library as we went by. They are having a book sale. I could use a couple of paperbacks for this weekend, but I do not foresee an opportunity to go there. Of course, I have three or four paperbacks I purchased at Basloe a month or two ago which I have not read yet, but still.

Up to the Historic Four Corners. I must take another walk by the 1834 Jail after dark some night and see if I spot any ghosts. I rather doubt I will; I’m not at all sensitive to that sort of phenomena, but as the great Fats Waller said, one never knows, do one?

A very sweet toddler wanted to pet Tabby. His father told him to ask first then asked me himself when the toddler was too shy. I said sure, Tabby’s a good dog. A lady with a beautiful baby in a stroller joined us as Tabby was being petted. Tabby was immediately interested in the baby.

“She likes baby feet,” I said. We parted friends.

I enjoyed our walk, and I think Tabby did too. I even enjoyed writing about it. Happy Tuesday, everyone.

Too Tired to Title

Sorry, folks, it’s Tired Tuesday. I really don’t know what my problem is. I haven’t taken a decongestant since Sunday. I haven’t had a drink since Saturday. I went to bed at a respectable hour for the past two nights. Yet, I spent half the day wanting nothing better to stare into space, doing and thinking about absolutely nothing.

Oh, I did my work. You don’t need to call my supervisor and tell him to keep an eye on me. I even did some writing before work and on breaks. I worked on a letter to a friend AND I began writing another play about bananas. Perhaps you remember that I promised a fellow cast-member of Busybody (the play I was in at Ilion Little Theatre recently) that I would write him a play in which bananas are featured prominently. I began one but found I had gotten a little too fancy (I may have mentioned that in another blog post). I began writing a new, not so complicated play. We’ll see how it goes.

I came home and took Tabby for a walk, thinking a Pedestrian Post might be OK. Tabby turned around and led me back home after a block and a half. I was OK with that; the wind was much meaner than I had realized. I took some trouble cooking supper, so a cooking post was also a possibility. Now I feel so tired, I can’t quite remember what I cooked. Something with garlic and onions. Wait a minute, most of what I cook includes garlic and onions. My cooking posts are probably not all that great.

So I thought I would just sit here and type in words till I got over 200. We’ll try for something better tomorrow.

Bad Attituesday

I’ve coined a new phrase: Bad Attituesday. It’s when you have a bad attitude on a Tuesday. I think it may replace Tired Tuesday as a feature in this blog.

I thought of Bad Attituesday while I was at work today. I was not having a bad day really. But, as will sometimes happen to the best of us (I know I’m not) at the best of jobs (it may not be the BEST of jobs, but it really is OK), by the end of the day I just did not want to be there. At least 45 minutes left on my shift and I did not want to do any more work.

Of course I continued to work anyways. I did not want to lose my job after all (see previous parenthetical comment about it being OK). But I reflected on my attitude and thought of Bad Attituesday. I like it. Thinking of it made me feel better (the irony is not lost on me).

That is what I wrote earlier, as I sat at Colonial Laundromat in Ilion, NY (note shout-out to local business), watching my clothes tumble around in the drier. And then I realized that it is a Tired Tuesday after all.

However, I did not write this post merely to whine about my tiredness nor yet my bad attitude. I wrote it because, well, I like to post every day. I rather hoped my newly coined phrase would be of enough interest to carry the post, but perhaps I flatter myself. In any case, I’m over 200 words and, as regular readers know, I consider that sufficient. Hope to see you Wednesday.

At Least the Turnover Was Good

In my defense, I have a sinus headache.

I thought I would lead with that instead of making it the headline.  Now I don’t have a headline.  Yes, it’s Tired Tuesday.  I was working on my play during breaks at work today.  I was aware, somewhere in the back of my mind, that I did not have an idea of what to write a blog post about today.  If I was smart I would have spent some time thinking about it.  And here we come to the ugly truth about me.

When I got home I looked in my notebook and found a post I started in January about Munson Williams Proctor Art Institute, which I had visited in December with a sister and a friend.  I thought I could use it, so I typed it in.  Turns out, not so much.  I need to work on it.

I know, I KNOW, just work on it now.  I draw your attention to the first sentence of the post.

The other thought I had was to give another shout-out to Heidelberg Bakery, because my husband went there earlier and bought us bread and a treat.  I thought I could spend at least a couple of hundred words expounding on the delightful experience of eating a chocolate turnover. Yum!

Then again, who wants to read the word “yum” two hundred times?  I’m thinking it is marginally more entertaining to read about me not writing.  But perhaps I flatter myself.  I hope you’ll tune in tomorrow,  Wednesday, when I will strive not to Wuss Out.

At Least My Afghan Will Help

Hands up, anybody who thought today was not going to be a Tired Tuesday post. Keep your hands up while I ask for hands up all of you who are disappointed.

In my defense, I’m sad. This is a totally fun blog (see subhead). I can’t write about being sad. For another reason, I have nothing wise and insightful to say. And I don’t want to come across as if I’m saying, “Look how compassionate and thoughtful I am, feeling all sad and stuff. I’m deep.” “Yeah,” my readers will say, “something is getting deep around here.”

But I will share the reason for my sadness. A few days ago at work I noticed a flier about one of those fundraisers for a cancer patient. This was for the wife of a co-worker. I don’t really know the co-worker and have never met his wife, but when I see one of these fliers, if they have contact information, I like to donate an afghan for the Chinese auction (these fundraisers almost always include a Chinese auction).

Regular readers will know I make afghans regularly as I watch TV, which I may or may not watch too much of (don’t judge). Sometimes they pile up, and I like to donate them. The flier I saw mentioned two names of heat treat workers I know (heat treat is a department at my work). I approached the one on day shift, she gracefully accepted my offer, and I brought the afghan in today. Anyone who saw it said it was pretty.

Shortly after lunch, we heard that the co-worker’s wife had died. I don’t think anybody realized how short her time was, perhaps not even the doctors. We were all sad. Four different people told me the poor woman had died. I would rather that than not being told, but I felt more sad each time.

The fundraiser will still be held, because there are still expenses to be defrayed. My contribution will help with those, so I am glad I brought the afghan in. But I am sad and have nothing profound to say about it. But here is my Tired Tuesday blog post.

You Could Have Saved Me Some Brownies

I do not have rehearsal tonight. One might think that this is my golden opportunity to write a “real” blog post (please note the correct use of quotation marks). One who is familiar with Mohawk Valley Girl will know how unlikely that is, especially on a Tired Tuesday.

I am back on overtime at work. How I love overtime. Working a ten hour day gives me a good excuse to slack on everything else. Oh I know, you probably worked a 12 hour day, stopped at the store, shoveled the driveway, cleaned the house, did three loads of laundry, cooked dinner and baked brownies from scratch. You probably also don’t have time to watch television, but I bet you know who was the last person to get laid, killed, engaged, gossiped about or voted off on whatever show everybody is watching this season.

Yes, when I am tired I have arguments with imaginary people who scorn my life.

My job is really not that onerous. I don’t mind going to work. I am grateful for my job and the overtime. Sometimes I even manage to write a blog post while working a ten hour day. Not, however, when I am in a play. We have two more rehearsals and then WE OPEN!!! That’s THIS FRIDAY NIGHT!!! I spent most of my breaks studying my lines. I used the part of my brain not needed for my job to think about my character. I must, I positively must be ready!

So, sorry about the Tired Tuesday blog post. And sorry in advance for Wuss-out Wednesday and Non-Sequitur Thursday. As we all know, I will offer no apologies for Lame Post Friday. I hope I still have readers by then.

But just to give the play another plug (that’s probably really why I’m so tired, but who can analyze these things?): Busybody at Ilion Little Theatre, 13 Remington Ave., Ilion, NY. Jan. 30, 31, Feb. 1, 6, 7, 8; 8 p.m. Fridays and Saturdays, 1 p.m. Sundays. For more information visit the website at www.ilionlittletheatre.org. You can also like Ilion Little Theatre Club on Facebook.

I Did Mention The Play, Right?

I think I may have mentioned this blog might become All Busybody All The Time. Astute readers will recall that Busybody is the play I am in at Ilion Little Theatre. I’m the busybody who discovers the busy body. Opening night is Jan. 30, which is kind of bearing down on us in an ominous fashion.

Did anybody read yesterday’s post when I was having that dreadful bout of Writer’s Block? I had rehearsal. I had to make that blog post then get myself ready to ACT. I had to change into clothes for rehearsal, I had to make sure I had my rehearsal props, I had to look over my lines again, I had to think about my character. I can’t write and act at the same time!

Actually, I kind of can. I realized a long time ago, I act like I write. I know all kinds of stuff about my character that never shows up on stage. Today while I was at work, I started thinking about my relationship with this other character in the play. In the play, we are old friends who actually went out on a date once. I started thinking about what my character used to be like, and what the other character used to be like, and why I married the guy I married (uh, in the play). I had worked out a huge backstory involving characters who never even appear onstage.

This is what I do. When I was in Harvey, I didn’t stop with backstory. I started writing a sequel in my head. In the dressing room before one performance I started to recount it to other cast members. I ran out of stuff I had thought up while at work and started vamping. The other cast members were rapt, or perhaps I flatter myself.

I had rehearsal tonight. I did not write my blog post before rehearsal. For some reason I trusted I would be able to come up with something after rehearsal. How silly of me. On the other hand, this is Tired Tuesday. Perhaps this will be all right. See you on Wuss-out Wednesday.