Friday, June 24, 2011


Here it is, two in the afternoon, and not a single turned-in packet of paper. Not one. Usually Nameless Agent turns them in by the bucketload, but he has been here all day and not a single one.

Ay, de mi.

Thursday, June 23, 2011

I do dust

Oh, heavens, I think I must be a very lazy person. I know I am, in fact, the laziest of people. I will live with a situation that is uncomfortable, inefficient, ugly and smelly, out of sheer laziness. This has all been brought home to me for the last few days, by reading the ten year's worth of blog by John Bailey. Here is this man, whose blog starts when he is 59, and he is constantly "clearing things away" or "washing down the shelves," or "giving the floor a good going over with some Flash." I'm halfway through the third year of this, and even though he rarely mentions it in his blog, he refers to it in a way that shows this is a regular process. And of course I know it is for most people.

I've just been comparing myself with the few people whose houses I know well, and feeling fairly okay about myself -- about my public self, anyway, since my private self will do almost anything not to have to get up from her chair once sat upon. When I sit down in front of the computer, I always take a book along, since otherwise I am stuck with the bookcase I have there (full of favorites for just that purpose) and that would never do, but once I am sitting, I'm not going to want to get up and go get it, so I'll HAVE to read one of those favorites!

In my leather chair in the living room, I have a box next to the chair which is for holding magazines and crocheting projects, and so on, but it is full of empty envelopes and bits of wrappers and so on, because it's there! And Heaven forbid I should have to actually get up and walk the two steps to a trash container.

And then of course, there is the pan in my sink, in the kitchen, the baking pan which was full of rhubarb and strawberry cobbler. It has been in the sink, full of water (changing all the time, at least) since May 20. And today is June 23rd. More than a month, and it has survived several washings-up. I will get down to just the dishes in the sink, and then give up.

And my public self is hardly any better. Hardly any. I do dust.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

An extra chin

I am drinking cranberry-pomegranate juice, and loving it. It is yummy-yummy, mmm-mmm-mmm. Last night I drank a very tall iced glass of it, with the addition of two ounces of Irish whiskey, and a large bloop of heavy cream. Now that was eyes-rolled-back-in-the-head DELICIOUS, and I very nearly made myself another one. But I'm not a hardened drinker, and I was alone in the house on a Monday night, and cream is very fattening, so for all these reasons I did not.

What is it that pomegranate juice contains that makes it so very healthy to drink? I know it contains some appalling amount of sugar, being the sweetest possible fruit juice. But it's also full of vitamins and folic acid, and some sort of antioxidant. Prevents cancer and cures heart attacks and beats off strokes. Something like that. And cranberries are anti-bacteria. So I'm doing myself a mort of good, unless I add the cream and the Jamesons. THEN, I'm just giving myself another five pounds and an extra chin.

Friday, June 17, 2011

Apres le deluge

Hooray! The phone just rang! That was the first call of the day, at 10:41. I am alone in the office today, too, no others here even for a moment. Find myself watching anxiously for the mailman, just to make sure I haven't been abandoned by my race.

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Crunch, crunch, crunch

One of the agents who works in my office -- we'll call him Nameless -- has several habits that cause a reaction in me, among them a determined and exhaustive cracking of every finger joint in every possible direction. Really. Every direction.

Well, he has another habit -- one which really causes every nerve of mine to stand up and shriek aloud. We keep a few bowls of candy in the office, it is my job to keep them full of mixed candy, and I enjoy that part of the job. Right now there is a slight preponderance of hard candies in the mix, peppermints, butterscotches, tropical fruits, etc. Lots of suck-upons. And Nameless picks one up, unwraps it and chews it up right there and then. He is swallowing its pulverized form as he reaches his office again. CRR-RRUN-NNCH, CRR-RUN-NNCH, CRUNCHY, CRUNCHY, swallow. I can hear his teeth splintering into shards as he does this. Brr, shudder!

Sunday, June 12, 2011

Like a good apple

Feeling good today -- oddly, and very noticeably, better than I have felt for the past several weeks. Yesterday was a good day, and today is also one, even though I haven't left the house or indeed showered yet. My hair is currently soaking in fresh lemon wash, and I'm sorting and folding sweaters in my room, listening to an interesting book on tape. Even the sorting and discarding of too-small clothing is not distressing me, although as I do, I am noticing that there are several articles of clothes that I never even wore, so rapid was my inflating. I am saving a few pieces that I really like, in case I am ever able to deflate, at least partially, this rotundity which now houses my person.

It is not upsetting me, though, not at all. I am eating slices of cold chicken breast, as I walk to and fro from room to room, and burning candles all over the house to freshen the already crisp and chilly air -- the sliding glass door was open all day and night for the past several days, and a few windows as well. I do like that sensation -- to walk into a room and breathe completely fresh air. Not just perfumed with room freshener, not with any faint trace of we-have-been-here-before, or re-filteredness about it. Just purely, crisply fresh. Like biting into a good apple. Not waxy, not soft, not wooly inside -- but right off the tree, hard and crunchy, bursting with sweet-sour juice and chilly on the tongue.

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

Worse comes to worst -- I'll get along

It is a lovely day again today, although overcast and grey as to sky -- cool and breezy, over an underlying warmth. Lots of green visible through the door from my desk -- I'm at work. Doug is in his office selling the company to a new agent, and the maintenance men -- John and son Hans -- are switching out the light fixtures all over the office for new ones. This is actually a lengthier and more intrusive process than one might have thought, since it involves large ladders all over the place and large boxes of gear, since the light fixtures are the whole 2x4 foot process, with ballast boxes and all. Nonetheless, the light they give off is so much nicer -- it has a pinky-yellow glow, instead of the pale blue-ish glow, it seems to light the area much more, and give the walls a more welcoming color. AND uses less electricity!

Financially, however, I am in very bad shape these days. I just saw that I am overdrawn at the bank, by $35 more than I actually am, since they slap on a fee whenever that happens. I cannot do anything about this, either, since I will have no more income until the fifteenth of the month and that will be taken up with several other payments. But it will be covered then. I just hope that I can manage to avoid any other fees being attached. More than a week, though. Hmmm. What can I sell, and to whom?

I am also started on a payment plan with the IRS, to pay my State tax, which starts on the fifteenth. So strange to owe taxes! I was really quite surprised. Now that I know that is going to be possible, I had better save towards that every year, and not end up like this again.

And, although this is not really my worry, I have been getting calls at work from a collection agency that claims I am still responsible for Joe and his rent at Clipper Ridge, even though he signed a second lease. This is a three thousand dollar debt. And the woman is a hateful person. Now, I know collections agents often are, as part of their job, but she, I think, is, at all times. I would hate to meet her.

Okay. Feels better to have written that down. I complained about some of this to Mom and Dad when I was there this past weekend (so lovely!) and to Ruthie on the phone, but no one knows the whole story but me. Doug would instantly offer to lend me money, so can't talk to him about it.

Anyway -- if worse comes to worst, I will just go and live with Mom and Dad in Ocean Park!