"Lots of energy now -- no crash later!"
That's what the television ad says -- and yet I just woke myself up three times in a row. And it's exactly five hours later.
That's a big fat hairy crash -- and bigger, fatter, hairier fraud!
Or at least, some advertising license, dang nab it!
Oh, well...
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Plus I get tomorrow off!
Sunday, Sunday -- a lovely day, delicately warm, and mildly sunny. I got up and went to the Salvation Army, after waiting patiently for it to get to be ten o'clock. Taking advantage of the half-price day, I spent $25 and got $50 worth of second-hand goods. Most of which cost 0.99, so you see. Oh, my goodness, I have just noticed for the very first time that there is no key with the "cents" sign on it, on my keyboard. Looking again ---hmmmm -- nope, nope, really not. Does this mean that I am supposed to go to the insert menu and insert a cents sign? Cuz there is the dollar sign, right there! But hey! I'm writing on my blog, so I'm online, and there isn't an insert menu on this silly site.
Anyway when I got home, Joe staggered out of the office in his underwear with his hair on end and mumble-yelled (parents of teen-aged boys who try to converse when they are not fully awake will know exactly what I mean by this verb) that Mickey was at Sully's with "the boys." So I walked over there and shared breakfast time with Calhoun and Bryson and chatted with Mickey.
Then I took Joe over to the storage locker to get the rest of his belongings out of it and dropped him off at Hannah's, and then came home.
And I would just like to mention that although I drank one of those tiny bottles of Five-Hour-Energy, I want nothing more than to go and take a nap! What a rip!
I do have that buzzy feeling in the corner of my eyes that I used to get when I took a caffeine tablet, though. So perhaps the sleepy feeling is just a feeling, and if I went and lay down, I would just lie there, with my eyes WIDE open. Let's pretend that is true, and then I can keep working around the house and act like I have tons of burnable energy, just simmering away! Dang nab it, though! I was looking forward to the feeling of being full of charging energy!
It is only two in the afternoon, however, and the rest of the day stretches out luxuriously before me! I might go see a movie!
Plus I get tomorrow off!
(Hmmm -- do you think the ungodly number of exclamation marks in this post are a result of the Energy drink?)
Anyway when I got home, Joe staggered out of the office in his underwear with his hair on end and mumble-yelled (parents of teen-aged boys who try to converse when they are not fully awake will know exactly what I mean by this verb) that Mickey was at Sully's with "the boys." So I walked over there and shared breakfast time with Calhoun and Bryson and chatted with Mickey.
Then I took Joe over to the storage locker to get the rest of his belongings out of it and dropped him off at Hannah's, and then came home.
And I would just like to mention that although I drank one of those tiny bottles of Five-Hour-Energy, I want nothing more than to go and take a nap! What a rip!
I do have that buzzy feeling in the corner of my eyes that I used to get when I took a caffeine tablet, though. So perhaps the sleepy feeling is just a feeling, and if I went and lay down, I would just lie there, with my eyes WIDE open. Let's pretend that is true, and then I can keep working around the house and act like I have tons of burnable energy, just simmering away! Dang nab it, though! I was looking forward to the feeling of being full of charging energy!
It is only two in the afternoon, however, and the rest of the day stretches out luxuriously before me! I might go see a movie!
Plus I get tomorrow off!
(Hmmm -- do you think the ungodly number of exclamation marks in this post are a result of the Energy drink?)
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Cotton Candy -- mmmmm!
What is it about being warm and dry after having been cold and wet, that is so very, VERY satisfactory? Feels so good, and yet I've never been able to describe or even identify the feeling, and if others don't recognize it from their own experience, then we are all just up that particular creek without a paddle.
I'm eating a bowl of red beans, a plate of buttered toast and drinking Merlot. Could be the Merlot that is enhancing this feeling of cozy well-being, but I don't think so. I've only had about three sips. The beans, (though I says it as shouldn't) are particularly good and very tasty and very fulfilling to my mind's tongue. Or perhaps I mean to the little chef who lives in my mouth (not unlike Tony) and is currently rolling on his back with his feet in the air and a big happy smile on his face.
I have just returned from the Saturday Market/Rose Festival, where I was hanging out with Mickey and Bryson. The mud was thick and yet very watery, sticky and very smelly. It rained on us the first fifteen minutes or so, so I was a soggy mess all day long, and yet we still had a very good time! Bryson is very brave about rides, even the really scary ones ( he went on one called the Inverter, WITH Mickey, and all the while he was beaming with joy, and Mickey was praying to be released) and we took him to almost everything there. I shared a big bag of cotton candy with both of them, and Bryson wore a pink sticky beard for the rest of the adventure.
It was very satisfying, as well. I'm happy, and comfortable, and smiling, and don't even care that now I must go and perform my chauffeuring duties for Kevin and Calhoun.
I'm eating a bowl of red beans, a plate of buttered toast and drinking Merlot. Could be the Merlot that is enhancing this feeling of cozy well-being, but I don't think so. I've only had about three sips. The beans, (though I says it as shouldn't) are particularly good and very tasty and very fulfilling to my mind's tongue. Or perhaps I mean to the little chef who lives in my mouth (not unlike Tony) and is currently rolling on his back with his feet in the air and a big happy smile on his face.
I have just returned from the Saturday Market/Rose Festival, where I was hanging out with Mickey and Bryson. The mud was thick and yet very watery, sticky and very smelly. It rained on us the first fifteen minutes or so, so I was a soggy mess all day long, and yet we still had a very good time! Bryson is very brave about rides, even the really scary ones ( he went on one called the Inverter, WITH Mickey, and all the while he was beaming with joy, and Mickey was praying to be released) and we took him to almost everything there. I shared a big bag of cotton candy with both of them, and Bryson wore a pink sticky beard for the rest of the adventure.
It was very satisfying, as well. I'm happy, and comfortable, and smiling, and don't even care that now I must go and perform my chauffeuring duties for Kevin and Calhoun.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Where's Noah?
Man alive! Thunderous rainfall out there this afternoon. The parking lot is several inches deep already. Where's Noah when you really need him?
Merribun Hanniton
I just received a phone call from a Japanese gentleman, who wanted to speak with Merribun Hanniton. I asked for him to spell the last name, but he did not want to, wanted instead to make sure he had the right phone number, and while he was reading off the number, I was rapidly scanning my list of names, and recognized the one: Melvin Hamilton.
Well, if one was Japanese, how else could one pronounce it?
Well, if one was Japanese, how else could one pronounce it?
Don't Know If I Can Deal With It.
Tuesday morning, and a grey and chilly morning it is -- also wet. It doesn't have any of the delicate, sweet-smelling quality that the last few days have had, no Spring-like atmosphere. Just rain. It makes me think of things like nuclear winter -- I've just been re-reading some of my Angela Thirkells and in the post-war books, the people are constantly complaining about the weather, how it never gets sunny and the summers aren't even warm. I wonder if Angela herself was unaware of the existence of nuclear winter? Or even of nuclear weather alteration? Cuz she never mentions it or causes any of her characters to explain it to the village or anything. I keep wanting to.
On the way in to work this morning, at about seven thirty, I saw a few things that, while they didn't actually frighten me, made me realize how huge the risk I am taking is, the risk of being loose on the freeway in a gas-powered vehicle, surrounded by hundreds of other gas-powered vehicles, all of us doing (let us be honest here) about seventy miles an hour, and only kept from one another by our so-human hands on the wheel. A motorcycle changed lanes twice, across the road in front of me, in plenty of time, and very visibly. But there was a fine mist from all the traffic, filling the air, and I suppose it is possible that the over-sized, jacked-up truck-and-a-half on my left did not see him. Because he came surging up beside me, and was right on top of the motorcycle before he braked sharply, and skidded sideways. On those wet pavements, and at that speed, it is truly amazing that we did not all die right there, in a big pile of twisted metal and spilled gasoline and blood. The motorcycle whipped sideways off the road and onto the shoulder, the huge truck caught itself before pushing me into the slower cars to my right, and I kept going forward. There weren't even any honks or screeching sounds. Just a quiet little near-death experience.
Then, as I was coming off the freeway, and slowing down to more ordinary land-speeds, I saw some huge thing going on in the road, with many cop cars and lots of whirling lights. Don't know what it was, cuz I was driving off in the other direction, but I'll bet there were some wet and bloody people, and some at least scraped metal, if not twisted.
And yes, since my workday starts at nine, why was I on my way to work at seven-thirty? Because Joe is back. Sleeping on the floor of my office so that I cannot get to the computer in the morning, and filling the house up with unpleasant music and using my phone, since his has been turned off for lack of payment. The father of the friend he was staying with has kicked them out and made loud threats of arrest, because the friend (and possibly Joe, since he was there -- I really don't know) sold some electronic equipment to buy drugs with.
Wow.
Joe asked me to get him up this morning at six-thirty so that he could catch a bus to Clackamas Community College and take his GED, finally -- and I woke him again and again until I left the house. But when I left it, he was still in bed.
This is all getting so very Michael-like. I don't know if I can deal with it.
On the way in to work this morning, at about seven thirty, I saw a few things that, while they didn't actually frighten me, made me realize how huge the risk I am taking is, the risk of being loose on the freeway in a gas-powered vehicle, surrounded by hundreds of other gas-powered vehicles, all of us doing (let us be honest here) about seventy miles an hour, and only kept from one another by our so-human hands on the wheel. A motorcycle changed lanes twice, across the road in front of me, in plenty of time, and very visibly. But there was a fine mist from all the traffic, filling the air, and I suppose it is possible that the over-sized, jacked-up truck-and-a-half on my left did not see him. Because he came surging up beside me, and was right on top of the motorcycle before he braked sharply, and skidded sideways. On those wet pavements, and at that speed, it is truly amazing that we did not all die right there, in a big pile of twisted metal and spilled gasoline and blood. The motorcycle whipped sideways off the road and onto the shoulder, the huge truck caught itself before pushing me into the slower cars to my right, and I kept going forward. There weren't even any honks or screeching sounds. Just a quiet little near-death experience.
Then, as I was coming off the freeway, and slowing down to more ordinary land-speeds, I saw some huge thing going on in the road, with many cop cars and lots of whirling lights. Don't know what it was, cuz I was driving off in the other direction, but I'll bet there were some wet and bloody people, and some at least scraped metal, if not twisted.
And yes, since my workday starts at nine, why was I on my way to work at seven-thirty? Because Joe is back. Sleeping on the floor of my office so that I cannot get to the computer in the morning, and filling the house up with unpleasant music and using my phone, since his has been turned off for lack of payment. The father of the friend he was staying with has kicked them out and made loud threats of arrest, because the friend (and possibly Joe, since he was there -- I really don't know) sold some electronic equipment to buy drugs with.
Wow.
Joe asked me to get him up this morning at six-thirty so that he could catch a bus to Clackamas Community College and take his GED, finally -- and I woke him again and again until I left the house. But when I left it, he was still in bed.
This is all getting so very Michael-like. I don't know if I can deal with it.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
No GED. Yet.
Well, it is a good thing that I got my little morning walk out of the way at about nine this morning -- cuz now it is raining like a big dog! Like the biggest of dogs, in fact, yet in such a gorgeous way that one might not even mind having one's booth flooded (thinking of the Farmer's Market.)
Looking out the kitchen window, at the trees and the pond, the air seems filled with a silver shimmer, which is actually the rain made visible. I am looking through a silver-grey transparent curtain of rain at the shivering greens of tree and bush and grass, and at the deeper, darker, dancing grey surface of the water. The steady distant roar is the sound the rain is making on the roof above my head - not the usual drumming sound or the raggedy rattle of smaller rain storms, but a single noise, all one, such is the fervor of the falling water.
Chilly, too -- I turned the heaters on briefly this morning, to take the edge off the rooms, which were sort of finger-stiffening in their temperature. After Joe and Nick left, that is.
Yes, last night at midnight the phone rang. And I allowed them to come and spend the night on the floor in the living room. I refused to listen to Joe's explanations of why they needed this ("Nick's Dad is PSYCHO!") because I knew they would probably be untruthful, and didn't want to listen to them. I told them they had to be gone by ten, and then I returned to bed, and listened to the racing, ragged pounding of my heart, until half an hour had passed and I was able to drowse off again.
Oh, and Joe has not taken his GED. Yet.
Looking out the kitchen window, at the trees and the pond, the air seems filled with a silver shimmer, which is actually the rain made visible. I am looking through a silver-grey transparent curtain of rain at the shivering greens of tree and bush and grass, and at the deeper, darker, dancing grey surface of the water. The steady distant roar is the sound the rain is making on the roof above my head - not the usual drumming sound or the raggedy rattle of smaller rain storms, but a single noise, all one, such is the fervor of the falling water.
Chilly, too -- I turned the heaters on briefly this morning, to take the edge off the rooms, which were sort of finger-stiffening in their temperature. After Joe and Nick left, that is.
Yes, last night at midnight the phone rang. And I allowed them to come and spend the night on the floor in the living room. I refused to listen to Joe's explanations of why they needed this ("Nick's Dad is PSYCHO!") because I knew they would probably be untruthful, and didn't want to listen to them. I told them they had to be gone by ten, and then I returned to bed, and listened to the racing, ragged pounding of my heart, until half an hour had passed and I was able to drowse off again.
Oh, and Joe has not taken his GED. Yet.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)