Tag Archives: tired

Wednesday with Quentin Tarantino

Wuss-out Wednesday follows Tired Tuesday when one is on overtime and in a play.  I do love the overtime. For one reason, it gives me a good excuse to slack on everything else.  Uh, I mean, it gives me a chance to further my career, make a contribution in the workplace and… oh hell, nobody’s a good enough actor to sell that line of bologna.  I’m sure you’ll believe I can use the extra cash, but it is vulgar to brag about one’s income (especially when it’s really nothing to brag about) (so don’t bother hitting me up for a loan) (you know who you are).

Where was I?  Ah yes,  striving to post something, anything before going to rehearsal.  At last night’s rehearsal I showed that although I know my lines, I do not know my blocking (that’s moving where you’re supposed to be when you’re supposed to be there, for you non-theatre folks) (and for any pedantic theatre folks who want to correct my definition, oh just give it a rest!).

In my defense,  it is kind of a complicated play.  There are flashbacks AND re-enactments.  I think it’s a little bit like a Quentin Tarantino movie.  I can’t even add “but without all the violence,” because my character chops off her husband’s head (that’s not a spoiler; everybody knows that about Roxalana Druse).

I studied my lines again today while on breaks at work (I know, I should have been writing my blog post; one can’t do everything, after all).  I even said them to myself while I was working.  Luckily, my job is not one where I deal with the public.  I don’t think my co-workers were particularly disconcerted.  After all, they’re used to me.

Right now I’m as tired as I was on Tuesday with rehearsal tonight and more overtime tomorrow.  But that is OK, because the show must go on!  Tired is not too great a price to pay for stardom!  Or even for having fun being in a community theatre play.

 

World’s Dumbest Monday

Note to self: If you foolishly decide to run the Boilermaker 15K again, be smart enough to take the NEXT DAY OFF.  It was not such a bad day, but oh, it was long, oh, I was tired, and, oh, I do not feel like writing a blog post right now.  I know, what a kvetch. I should get over myself.

In fact, I did write something while at work.  I don’t feel like typing it in (too long, needs editing).   I got two paragraphs typed in before I petered out.  I’ll finish it tomorrow or Wednesday.  Unless I go running on those days and write running commentaries.   After all, a good run might help my aching legs, then I wouldn’t complain so much.

In the meantime, I would like to post something so I can go back to watchingWorld’s Dumbest on TruTV and enjoying the evening with my husband  (you see what I did with that headline:  I’m watching World’s Dumbest and I’m apologizing because today’s post is kind of dumb).  What to write?  What to write?  What to write?

It was my first day back at work after two weeks off.  I’m going to just go ahead and confess, I did not get much writing done during my time off.  How embarrassing is that?  I have to wonder, is this one reason I’m having such trouble today?  I often observe, writing begets writing.  Maybe I just have not been writing enough.

Ah, but the thought brings me a frisson of hope. Perhaps by writing this blog post, dumb as it may be, I will gain some momentum and write something else.   Maybe after a good night’s sleep and something for my aching middle-aged muscles.

 

 

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.

 

Is the Blog Post as Bad as the Run?

When I start to run up a hill, I almost never have any doubt that I will make it to the top; it is merely a question of how much it is going to suck.  I said this to myself this afternoon as I ran up the hill to Herkimer College (often referred to as HCCC in this blog) (incidentally, that is read, “H-triple-C”).  Then I tried to calculate exactly how much it actually sucked.  How are these things measured, anyways?

 

Of course no run, however bad, entirely sucks.  For one reason, you are doing it.  The satisfaction of Running Anyways is not to be denied.  When one is working towards a goal — in my case, the Boilermaker 15K — one can also comfort oneself that one is making progress.  When I run up the hill to Hekimer College, another reward is the wonderful views when I get to the top.

 

One plan I had considered for this week was to run Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday.  As may have been expected, I wussed out on Wednesday.  I would accept no excuses from myself today (to give myself some credit, I did not even try to come up with any).  Since I had not run Wednesday and since I am having serious doubts of my ability to run the Boilermaker and not have it suck (see first paragraph), I thought I should run a longish run and include hills.

 

After considering and discarding several routes, I turned up Lou Ambers Drive and headed for the college.  It was not fun.  I wondered if I would ever reach the I Can Rock This stage again.  But I kept going.  Once I got to campus I kept going uphill, by the buildings and around the athletic fields.  Oh, it took a long time.  To be fair, it did not suck the whole time.  It never felt wonderful, but at certain times it was… neutral.

 

At last I was headed down Reservoir Road.  Downhill did not feel as good as it usually does.  For one reason, I worked on my feet all day today.  For another reason, I REALLY need to get to the Sneaker Store in New Hartford, NY, and get new running shoes.  Never mind, I told myself.  Just make up your mind to it your feet are going to hurt ALL THE TIME and don’t worry about it.  I looked around at the distant views and the closer scenery to take my mind off it.  That helped.

 

My previous longest run time had been 41 minutes (I may have said 40 in an earlier blog post, but I checked my running journal and it’s 41).  It was soon apparent I would not get back home in that length of time.   I feared I would be increasing my time by longer than the recommended 10 percent.  I felt that would be OK, because I’m training for the Boilermaker.  I have to get used to running for long periods of time.

 

I ended up running for 46 minutes.  I did not feel pretty terrific, as I often do after a run.  I felt, and still feel tired.  I thought I was too tired to write a blog post.  It seems I was not.  Was I too tired to write a good blog post?  Oh, who cares?  It’s Non-Sequitur Thursday.  Slap on a title and call it a night.

 

Blog then Bed

Is it Mental Meanderings Monday or Middle-aged Musings Monday?  Discuss amongst yourselves.

 

I bet that wasn’t a very long discussion.  Probably a couple, “I don’t care what you call it,” a few, “Oh, no, not another silly post,” or even, “Oh, goody, another silly post.”   Perhaps somebody brought up my love of alliteration.  In admiration or annoyance? (Did you notice what I did just then?)

 

It seems I am too tired to write a decent blog post.  The reason I am so tired is that I have been working on my articles for Mohawk Valley Living, my favorite magazine.  I daresay I flatter myself, but I think they are pretty good.  If only I could get them finished, polished and submitted, my life would be perfect.  I know what some of you are thinking: why didn’t I just publish one of the articles for my blog post?  I have done that on occasion, but I kind of feel like it’s cheating (hey, that’s something else you can discuss amongst yourselves).

 

Another factor in tonight’s trouble in coming up with a blog post is that I really need to get to bed early.  My husband has an early shift at work, for which he prefers to rise at 3:30 a.m.  I go to work at my normal time of seven, making an early morning run a good idea.  Hey, that means I could write tomorrow’s blog post about the run.  Score!

 

In the meantime, we all know Monday can be a painful day for us Monday through Friday wage slaves, as is the day after a day or days off for those who work different hours.  As I said yesterday, all I can do is stay hydrated and try again tomorrow.  Happy Monday, everyone.

 

 

Still No Endorphins

After my adventure-filled weekend, I thought sure I wouldn’t have a Tired Tuesday post. After all, I had written a post and parts of two more yesterday. Then as I wrote more on my posts before work, I got all bogged down. That was OK, though, I thought, because I was determined to go running after work. I could do a Running Commentary. As I ran, I felt I had all the more reason to be tired. However, I’ll see what I can come up with.

I ran 29 minutes on my last run, which increased my time by the recommended 10 percent. I merely had to maintain that, not improve it till this weekend at soonest. It was not far into my run that I was telling myself I did not even need to do the full 29 minutes. After all, I intend to run at least two more times before the weekend. I could make this one shorter.

My original plan had been to run up the hill by Valley Health and then into what I think of as the Suburbs. I guess they aren’t really suburbs. I don’t think Herkimer is big enough to rate actual suburbs. It is a residential area of (relatively) newer houses with no sidewalks. There is generally less traffic than in the village itself. Since the sidewalks are booby-trapped with large puddles and patches of ice, I thought running on quiet streets would be nice.

As I ran down German Street, I did not feel good. I was tired, my legs didn’t want to move, even breathing wasn’t fun. Would I even make it up the hill by Valley Health? As I approached Brookfield Park, I considered running up into it. It was uphill but not as steep as by Valley Health. It could be a shorter run. I looked up the slope and ran by. I just couldn’t do it. Maybe by the time I got to Valley Health my body would be warmed into the run and I could do the hill.

Oh, I was not enjoying this. There was the hill to H-Triple-C (that’s Herkimer County Community College, although I think they have changed their name). Would I ever be up to running that hill again? I thought I would be but it sure did not seem possible today. I saw some broken car parts on the road. Yikes, did somebody have an accident? In a parking area a few feet up I saw two vehicles parked and two people on cell phones. Ah, so the accident just happened. Bummer.

I went up the hill by Valley Health. Two people were walking down it. Did I ever envy them! I lacked the breath to tell them so. I did the trick of looking at my feet and shuffling up that hill. When did I get that big splotch of mud on that sneaker? How long was this hill anyways? At last I made it. I didn’t even feel good about having done it.

I wondered if I would reach the I Can Rock This stage on this run or, indeed, ever again. Then I heard a huge vehicle behind me. I was on the left side facing traffic, as runners and pedestrians are supposed to be. Still, the road wasn’t very wide. I got over as far as I could. It was a Yard Waste truck, and he didn’t seem too concerned about getting over. It stopped in the middle of the street. I turned down a side street to avoid it.

The area is laid out, as many residential areas are, NOT in a squared-off, grid kind of pattern. More like a plate of spaghetti. Curvy and weird. I’ve run in the area many times, but I still get lost. I wasn’t too worried about it. Sooner or later I always come out somewhere familiar. I turned down one street. I saw the Yard Waste truck parallel to me. I turned left at the next opportunity.

I know there are come cul-de-sacs and streets that loop around, often involving large hills. Did I want to go around a large loop with a steep hill? I did not. I began to look around, trying to orient myself. Herkimer was that way, the highway was that way, the college was… I would go to the end of this street and find out.

Then I heard the loud motor of the Yard Waste truck, which I was beginning to think of as my enemy. I picked another street. How long had I been running anyways? I had checked my watch a couple of times early on but I hadn’t in the last few streets. Ooh, I was going to make it for 29 minutes. I wasn’t even feeling too bad. Could I rock this? Maybe I wasn’t feeling it, but I was, in fact, rocking it.

At last I figured out where I was. The Yard Waste truck passed me one more time. I got back to Valley Health, back down the hill, and back on to German Street. The cars that had been involved in the accident were still there, this time with cops nearby. I ran on. I seemed to think there was a brief period in the middle of my run when I hadn’t felt too bad, but that time was past. Now I could only persevere.

Persevere I did. I made it home. I had lasted 29 minutes. Oh, it felt good to walk my cool-down with Tabby and even better to stop walking and go in the house. I was almost too tired to stretch, but somehow managed it. My shower felt nice. Food tasted like heaven. If only I wasn’t too tired to write a blog post.

Lo and behold, I was not. Was it a good blog post? I’m not the best judge of that. But I got another run under my belt. Maybe on the next one I will reach that coveted I Can Rock This stage. And maybe, just maybe one day I will experience those endorphins.

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.

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.

Tired, Old, and Reading Other Blogs

Well, I was all set to have another Tired Tuesday. In my defense, I seem to be coming down with some weird winter malady, the main symptom of which seems to be that I am tired. And headachey. And not a little vague. The sad thing is that I have so been having Mohawk Valley adventures. I hemmed and hawed, listening to the little voice in my head saying, “I CAAAN’T write a real blog post today!” It was not the little devil on my shoulder; she is a good deal more robust.

I really wanted to write a better blog post than about how tired and ill I feel. I went to Facebook and got some info for a local business I patronized recently and thought to give a shout out to. Then I came back to WordPress. Of course blogs I follow popped up first. I just had to read a couple.

I noticed that Today I Watched A Movie had reviewed Double Jeopardy. Sometimes he reviews older movies (it really grates on me to call a movie released in the ’90s “old,” because what does that make me, for heavens’ sake?). I remembered when this one was in theatres, so I perused his review. And made the following comment:

I always thought the premise of this movie was so asinine! You cannot legally murder somebody just because you got wrongfully convicted of doing so when they are still alive. Yes, I felt free to give away the whole plot without benefit of a spoiler alert because the TV advertisements and trailers did the same thing when this movie was in the theatres. We caught it on video, because at that time we caught almost everything on video (and now that’s the olden days. Damn!). Now I see my comment is running longer than your concise review. Sorry. I think I’ll use my comment for my blog post. Thanks for listening.

It would be nice to credit the other blogger who occasionally uses his comments on other blogs as his own blog posts, because that is what gave me the idea to do it myself. Unfortunately, I can’t remember which blogger that was. I thought it was a brilliant idea, though. To me it has a nice reduce/reuse/recycle feel to it. To others, it perhaps seems lazy. To my hazy, ailing brain, it seems acceptable on a Tired Tuesday.

And when I’m feeling better I may do a whole piece on how we used to trek to the video store and rent movies all the time and how much fun that was. Yes, I’m old! I embrace it!

More Writing About Not Writing

Well, it is not yet Tired Tuesday it is no longer Wrist to Forehead Sunday, yet I feel I qualify for both of those days. The annoying thing is that I did so write while at work today. I wrote at least a page before my shift started then a few paragraphs more at lunch time. I felt it was not contemptible. And yet. And yet.

What I really feel moved to write right now is an explanation of why I am not publishing what I wrote earlier yet. We’ll call it a Middle-aged Musings Monday and that will make everything OK (I do like giving things names) (I’ll write a blog post abut that one day).

After writing about Steven’s first Christmas gift to me (yesterday’s post), I thought it might be fun to do a week of Christmas memories. By age 51, I have quite a few. I have even been thinking about one particular Christmas lately. The reason I have been thinking about it is that I was broke then and I am broke now. I quite naturally began my post with that thought.

After a sentence or three I thought, “Somebody is going to tell me to stop whining.” You can’t tell tone of voice from typing. I felt I was being matter-of-fact about things, but no doubt some readers would hear whining. I wrote a few more sentences trying to dispel any notion that I am not facing my circumstances with cheerfulness, fortitude and a sense of humor (I’m not, really, I daresay I do whine, but wouldn’t it be nice if I did have cheeriness, etc.?).

Then I started to ask myself, am I even that broke? After all, I still have cable television and the occasional bottle of wine. I haven’t started stealing the dog’s food nor even applied for SNAP benefits. These reflections led to some half-baked philosophy about people crying poverty when the rest of us see none. This was not a Christmas memory! What the hell, Mohawk Valley Girl? So I skipped a line and jumped into the story I had intended to write, trusting to be able to clean it up later.

By the end of the day, I felt dissatisfied with what I had written. I felt certain there was a better blog post about that Christmas. And perhaps a Lame Post Friday post about comparative poverty or cheerfulness and fortitude. After work as I walked my dog, Tabby, I pondered my options, bearing in mind that I have rehearsal tonight and I was feeling more and more tired. I thought about writing about the walk I was taking. Then I thought about writing about why I could not publish the post originally intended.

And reading back over what I have written (I know, Truman Capote, it isn’t writing, it’s typing), I kind of like it. I will strive to be a little less tired on Tuesday.