Tag Archives: whining

In My Defense, It’s a Bad Headache

I went for a run earlier today, thinking I could make a Running Commentary post.  It beats a Tired Tuesday post, so I thought.  Well, I’m not too tired to write a post, but I have another blankety-blank headache!  What’s that all about? I haven’t done anything to give myself a headache!  It’s no fair.

So here I am whining about my tiresome ills instead of entertaining my readers.

That was when I paused and went to Facebook (my usual dodge during these blogging woes), where I posted that my head hurt and I couldn’t write.  A Facebook friend encouraged me to continue writing my blog post about having a headache.  To be sure, I have had worse headaches.  For one thing, I am sitting upright typing.  The headache has not made my nauseous (I just tried about twelve spellings of “nauseous” before happening on the right one; where’s my damn dictionary, anyways?).

Continuing to count my blessings, I see it is almost time for Steven to get home from work.  We need to go vote.  After my shower, I put on a cute outfit (although perhaps I flatter myself).

Ooh, I hear him now.

I stopped typing and went to vote.  It is one’s democratic duty.  And it did not take long.  No lines, no waiting.  I love small town living.  Once we got home I warmed up and ate some sausage soup, so I am feeling better about everything.  So this is my Tired Tuesday post.  Run, headache, vote.  Oh, and I did a load of laundry.  I’ll get my act together yet!  I hope to see you all on Wuss-out Wednesday, when Mohawk Valley Girl will be surprised and pleased to have made it half-way through the week.

 

 

Stop Whining and Blog!

First, the answer to yesterday’s trivia question is, “Nobody’s perfect.”  Didactic sorts (you know who you are) will point out that these word are not being spoken at the exact moment of that photo, but those are the words that are most apropos to me.  That being said, what about today’s blog post?  Oh dear.

I am having the most dreadful time lately.  I feel as if I am dragging myself through each day.  As soon as I typed that, I said to myself, “Don’t put that! That’s just whining!  Stop whining!”  It cannot be denied that I almost always have enough energy to whine about something.  That fact should prove to me that I have enough energy for other things, if only I would consent to exert it.  So here I am typing, and while I am not exactly dragging each word out of my recalcitrant brain, things are not flowing freely.  What, I ask, is a blogger to do?  No, really, I’m asking.  What should I do?  Anybody?  Bueller?

When in doubt, look for a picture.  After some moments of indecision, I decided on this one:

Pretty cool old building, isn’t it?

This is the old Frankfort Town Hall, in Frankfort, NY, which, for non-local readers, is close to Herkimer.  In fact, when Steven and I were looking for a house, we looked at several in Frankfort.  It is a nice little village, home of the Friendly Bake Shop, the Locavore, the Knight Spot, and other local businesses well worthy of Mohawk Valley Girl’s notice.  Alas, this building stands empty now.

I got the picture from The Mohawk Valley Through the Lens, a Facebook page I follow.   There are lot of swell pictures there.  I picked this one, because I have actually seen the building.  Looking through other photos on the page, I found another of a place I’ve been:

They’ll probably have some swell bands here this summer.

This is the Herkimer Marina near Gems Along the Mohawk and the Waterfront Grille, two of my favorite places.  I hope to go on an Erie Canal Cruise this summer.  I will write a blog post about it if I do.

I see now that I am over 300 words, a quite respectable number for a Wednesday, Wuss-out or not.  Additionally, I have to leave soon for rehearsal for Who Shot JS? my latest murder mystery (which I believe I have mentioned once or twice).  I hope to see you all on Thursday, which may or may not be of the Non-Sequitur variety.

 

W(h)ine on Wuss-out Wednesday

I thought an iced coffee would help, I really did. Sometimes eating ice cream helps.  Sometimes eating dinner helps.  Sometimes nothing will help but yet I must just sit down and make my goddam blog post.

Welcome to Wuss-out Wednesday.

Sorry, folks, but the bad posts continue.  I typed the above before I had to go pick up Steven at work.  Actually, I still had to shower and get dressed.  It took me a LONG time to get dressed (that is, almost ten minutes, I think), because I have a lousy wardrobe.  I have a lot of clothes but most of them don’t fit, don’t go together or are unwearable at the moment for all sorts of stupid reasons.  I put together a not unreasonable outfit and thought that would make a good blog post.  Unfortunately, I had not time.

And isn’t that ironic?  I did something I thought I could write a blog post about, but because I did it, I did not have time to make the blog post.  Am I the only one who finds that striking?  Perhaps I am.

So why am I not writing that blog post now?  Did I not mention this is Wuss-out Wednesday?  In fact, when I picked up Steven, I pointed out my fun little outfit and said if he wanted to go get something to eat, we could.  I fully expected him to say he just wanted to go home and relax, but dinner sounded good to him.  We ended up at Jamo’s, where they had a Date Night special going on which included a carafe of wine.

Yes, I have sipped and typed before (a carafe is only two glasses apiece; I did not tie one one, so stop making that unbearably superior smirk at me) (you know who you are).  Today I am tired.  That is three days in a row of being tired!  I think I need a different approach.  I’ll work on it tomorrow, on Non-Sequitur Thursday, when I will try not to wine so much.

 

 

Is This an OK Blog Post?

Well, I’ve been sitting here with my laptop on, you know, my lap, hoping I could somehow magically make a blog post without thinking about it too much.  I guess I didn’t really think that would happen, but I was hoping my stomach would stop hurting and I would start feeling a little less tired.  Oh dear, there I go whining again.  Sorry about that.

Ooh, here’s something to have some Monday Middle-aged Musings about:  why do I complain so much and how can I stop?  I’ll answer the second part first.

Complaining is basically a bad habit, and I have heard of a few good ways to stop bad habits.  One very simple way is: when you notice yourself doing the bad habit, stop.  Really, I read this somewhere.  It is a matter of being aware of what you are doing and choosing to do something else.  When I am complaining and notice I am doing so, the complaint has already been voiced.  So then I say, “And now I’m complaining too much so I’ll shut up.”  And then I try to (it is very difficult for me to not talk at all, but at least I say I’m going to).

Lately I have come up with a new technique.  I try to counteract the complaint by saying, “But that’s OK, because…”  and finding a silver lining or some such.  For example, if I have been lamenting the fact that I am at work when I would rather be home, I might say something like, “But that’s OK, because this is not a bad job.”  If I have been whining about feeling lightheaded, I often say, “But that’s OK, because at least I don’t have a headache.”  Sometimes a complaint will get, “But that’s OK, because… I don’t know why, but I’m sure it’s OK.”

Regarding why I complain so much, well, I am fond of saying, “Always go with your strengths.”  Who knows where these bad habits start? Sometimes it’s just the easiest thing to do.  For example, the bad habit I have gotten into lately of making these foolish blog posts.  Some of these posts are pretty bad.  But that’s OK, because somebody might like to read a bad foolish post.   I hope.

 

Spoiler Alert! It’s a Two-Parter!

Sometimes, when you want to do something, you just decide to do it, then you do it.  Some of you are rolling your eyes saying, “I’ve been TELLING you that!”  Others, perhaps also with an eye roll, are asking me if it is really, truly that easy.  My good friends (I hope you know who you are) are saying, “Oh, good for you, Cindy, what did you do?”

I have been trying, without much notable success, to keep from prosing on about my dreadful headaches (my computer seems to think “prosing” is not a word, but I’m sure I’ve seen it used elsewhere).  However, to convey my real sense of accomplishment today, I must emphasize that I have been suffering terribly from painful headaches, often accompanied by nausea.

These headaches often begin in the middle of the night, my most hated kind of headache.  I mean, if you get a headache during the day, you feel that in the last resort you can always lie down to try to get rid of it.  If you wake up with it, what are you going to do?  If you wake up with it in the middle of the night, go back to sleep with it, and wake up with it feeling even worse, I think you may be forgiven for feeling extremely ill-used.

And that is all the whining about my headaches that I have been trying so hard to keep out of the blog.  I am truly mortified. Is anybody still reading?  Should I erase the last two paragraphs and start over again?  Should I mention or refrain from mentioning that I have a pounding headache now which is making it difficult to write?  Should I further mention that I am running out of adjectives to describe my headaches?

What a big, fat baby I am.  My apologies.  At least you can all feel a frisson of virtue that YOU do not complain so much about your aches and pains

Be all that as it may, the last time I ran was Christmas Day, when I took a short run in the cold followed by, you guessed it, a worsening of my headache.  I have walked and shoveled snow for exercise since then.  I did not want to wait too long to begin running again.  When Steven left for work shortly before 9:30 this morning (New Year’s Day; ignore the date under the title), I got ready and set out.

It was snowing and just above freezing temperature, so I dressed extra warmly.  I had it in my head to run up the hill to Herkimer College (which I persist in referring to as HCCC).  I had meant to run up that hill BEFORE 2016, but one does not always meet one’s goals and I find it is best to refrain from beating oneself up but to keep striving.  I turned down German Street, picking my way down the icy sidewalk.  It was not glare ice, but thick, uneven ice, the kind you can easily turn your ankle on.

The falling snow was pretty.  It would have been a nice day for a walk with a dog.  I felt sad all over again, missing my dear departed schnoodle, Tabby.  At least I had the happiness of knowing her.

Would I really run up the hill to the college?  I was out here running at all, I thought that was pretty good.  I could probably feel pleased with myself no matter what I did, short run, long run, no hill, little hill… hill by Valley Health?  Back way to HCCC?  I pondered as I went.  I can’t say I was rocking it as I ran, but it wasn’t too painful either.

If this was in a book, I thought, it would be very important to make it to the top of the hill.  If I made it to the top of the hill, it would mean I would meet all my goals for 2016.  I would finish my novel, do a great job directing for Ilion Little Theatre, lose 15 pounds, clean my house, grow a vegetable garden…  And if I got halfway up the hill and turned around, I would probably be homeless by March, friendless and despised.

I knew, of course, that I was being silly.  For one reason, if I started running up the hill to HCCC, I was going to make it to the top.  I pretty much always do.

Hey, I just noticed something:  I am over 700 words already.  That is a long blog post for me.  I’m going to sign off here and make this a two parter (what, parter isn’t a word either?  What’s that all about, computer?).  Did I make to the top of the hill?  Did I try?  Did I continue to get silly?  Tune in tomorrow, for the first Saturday Running Commentary of 2016!

 

Whiny Babies Need Love, Too

I never feel quite right having a Lame Post Friday when I have to work on Saturday.  As a co-worker sensibly pointed out to me, it is still Friday; they can’t take that away from us.  But I think most Monday through Friday workers can understand how I feel.  People with different schedules are perhaps rolling their eyes and thinking I am a whiny baby.  Well, what if I am?  Whiny babies need love too, you know!

But I must not spend my entire post whining.  How tiresome, even for me.  Anyways, tomorrow is Halloween.  I LOVE Halloween!!!  Steven and I will stand on our front porch to greet the trick or treaters.  After that we shall watch scary movies.  Maybe even something I can write a blog post about (I love writing blog posts about cheesy horror movies).  Work-schmurk!  Tomorrow is going to be a fun day!

Tonight is also not without reward.  I am currently watching my beloved SnappedSnapped, for the uninitiated, is a documentary-style show about female murderers.  I do love a true crime documentary. Snapped is not one of your classier shows, like 20/20 or Dateline, but it’s not a re-enactment-fest like Deadly Women or Lethal Kin, although those re-enactment-fests can be kind of fun too.

So I guess this is my lame blog post for the day.  I whine, I anticipate, I watch television.  This is Friday night at my house.  Hope you’ll tune in again on Saturday.

 

How I Have Missed My Turbie Twist

I thought of that title while I was taking my shower, and I love rhyme almost as much as I love alliteration.  On the other hand, I do not want to make a whole blog post touting an “As Seen On TV” product.  Adding another hand, today is Non-Sequitur Thursday, so why not use the headline?  As the saying goes, waste not, want not.

Once again, the magic of putting fingers on keyboard is soothing me.  I may not be writing good words, but I am writing words.  That makes me feel happy.

I was feeling beyond stressed earlier today.  My sinus — or whatever it is — problems continue to plague me; work is, well, work; I have rehearsal tonight; and I am far from ready for the (wait for it) Halloweddinganniversaweenary Party this weekend.  AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!  Hmm. Primal scream therapy does not have the same effect on the screen.

I know, I know, what a big fat baby.  All I can do is whine and complain.  That may be true, but I prefer to say kvetch and gripe.  Gripe, especially, seems to have a tough, gritty aspect.  Ah, how I love words.

So you see that I continue to struggle with the “real” post problem.  After having such a good week last week. Well, at least I had one good week in October.  It isn’t time yet for the blog to become All Lunch Hour All The Time (that’s the play which is the rehearsal I have to go to) (it’s at Ilion Little Theatre; I’m sure I’ve mentioned it before).

Oh dear, two posts in a row where all I do is whine (complain, kvetch, gripe, whatever).  I hope I can come up with something amusing for Lame Post Friday.  As always, I hope you’ll stay tuned.

 

Can’t Give You Anything But Wuss

Oh dear, it is SO Wuss-out Wednesday!  I am so tired now I don’t know how I’m going to get through rehearsal, which I have to leave for soon so I am REALLY rushing this post.  Steady, Cindy, steady.  You’re only the stage manager.  All you have to do is sit there with the book in your lap and feed the actors their lines as needed.  It is one thing to wuss out.  Let us keep our wrist off our forehead.

Where was I?  Ah yes, making a blog post.  I did start to write a “real” post while at work today, about another stop on the Saturday of adventures I had recently.  I need to look up a few more things about the place (preview of coming attractions).  I had planned to go running after work, so I thought I would make a Running Commentary instead.   Why do I even bother planning anything?

Oh, I did run.  If you could call it that.  It might even be good to write about my plod/shuffle/whatever-it-was.  For one reason, other runners may read it and feel a whole lot better about their own endeavors.  For another reason, it might be more humorous than my current whining.

It’s no use.  Right now I’ve got nothing but whine.  And I don’t dare have any wine or I will fall asleep for sure (no, I’m not an alcoholic, I was making a play on words with whine/wine.  Sheesh!).  All I can do is try again tomorrow. Thank you for bearing with me and Happy Wednesday to you all.

 

On Timing and Topping

I keep noticing that WordPress is 12 hours ahead of me.   I log on and hit My Site, then my statistics show up and it seems that I have had no activity yet that day.  This is usually about four in the afternoon, when I get home from work.  First I think nobody likes me, then I notice that it is already tomorrow and say, “Huh.”

 

Leaving my problems of low self-esteem aside (I know some people like me, don’t tell me nobody does or you will hurt my delicate feelings), let us consider the time warp.  While I am in the midst of my Wrist to Forehead Sunday, other bloggers are on to Monday, which may or may not be a Funday (or a Runday or a Punday, etc.)  (I can keep that up all day).

 

People who hate Monday (and there are many of them), probably scorn these whining Sunday posts (oh how I HATE to admit I am whining!).  “You think YOU have problems,” they sneer.  “I’m at work!  At the beginning of the week!”

 

If there is one thing I hate worse than admitting I am whining, it is a topper.  You know the sort.  If you have a headache, they have a migraine.  If you are broke, they are bankrupt, homeless and the sole support of their aged, ailing mother.  Conversely, if you just got a new car, they have traded in their Corvette for a Lambourgini (is that how you spell it? My computer doesn’t seem to think so).

 

Hey, I just realized something.  If my readers are toppers, I can’t win no matter what.   Even if I peel my wrist off my forehead and get positive, they will have something better going on.  In fact, I bet they write better blog posts than me.  What are they even reading my silliness for?  Possibly for the feelings of superiority.  If that is the case, you’re welcome.

 

As for the rest of you, thank you for reading.  Happy Sunday, even if for you it is already Monday.

 

Don’t Ask Me Why

I felt so pleased with myself for not having Wrist to Forehead Sunday. Let that be a lesson to me: don’t feel pleased with myself! Then again, how can I help my feelings? What am I beating myself up for?

As you may have guessed, I am once again writing a post about Why I Can’t Write a Post Today, sometimes known as Wrist to Forehead Whatever Day It Is (today is Monday). In my defense, it is Monday. And it has been another cold Monday. And I have a few things on my mind.

Oh, stop playing those miniature violins! I’m not whining; I am telling you WHY. But why is not really the important thing, or even a particularly interesting thing. In fact, I would submit that in many instances, “Why?” is a fairly useless question. Ooh, watch me segue into a Monday Middle-aged Musing here.

Mommy tells Junior not to touch the cookie jar. Of course he does, and the jar comes crashing down, smashing to smithereens and ruining two dozen cookies.

“Why did you do that when I told you not to?” Mommy can’t help but ask. You see, I’m not blaming her for asking, I am merely arguing that it is not a helpful question. A more pertinent question might be, “Do you know where the broom and dustpan are and how to use them?” Oh, I’m also not saying Junior shouldn’t have some comeuppance for his misdeed. That’s a whole other question I’m not even going to deal with today.

I suppose a pertinent question for me is not “Why aren’t you writing a real blog post today?” but perhaps, “What do you intend to write tomorrow?” I’ll start planning that right away. As soon as I get my wrist surgically removed from my forehead.