I don't pretend to be who/what I'm not. I will be honest here unless I publish under the category "This could be news," which is 99% fiction and a wee bit sarcastic. ;-) I want readers who come here to have as much fun as I do. Not all subjects can be fun, but most can be funny if I do my job right ;-)
My inner child is reflected in my logo and will change at a moment's notice.
This craziness (summer schedules, people dropping in and out, hubby’s bizarre foot disease) has turned me into a fidgety mess. When I’m not nodding off in morning worship, I’m planning my next nap. The nap rarely happens, but it is a fun fantasy.
Me Consulting My Keyboard
This week has been an especially difficult one. I never sleep well during a full moon. Add that to 105-degree temperatures, and I am a slug. A nutritious lunch at 1:00 pm, and I will force myself to lie down and nap. Falling asleep should not be a problem, but I must get into bed and not be distracted. When I am awakened, I will shower and get ready for the meeting tonight. All this while drinking caffeine-loaded beverages. I am determined not to doze during the meeting.
To Be Continued…
Between 1:30 and 3:00 pm, I dozed lightly. I did not power nap because I woke up groggy and did not want to get up. Oh well. I did get off my feet and rest, so it wasn’t a waste of time. Once the RockStar kicks in, I should feel perky.
I did feel perky, but that did not prevent me from yawning a lot. Meetings are never boring, so it is all my fault. I need to get to bed by 9:30 pm. I’m lucky if I make it before midnight because I mistakenly think I can accomplish studying or writing after I am alone in my office. No progress is made after 10 pm, so I should have invested my time in sleeping. I am smarter than this dumb behavior. Let’s see how long I can keep up the smarter bedtime…
It does not happen often, but hubby has gone to the Bay Area for the weekend and left me unsupervised.
So, what does a girl do with her own time? The possibilities are many. Without a man to feed and care for, she has time for other things. Like quilting. Gardening. Shopping (online because no shopping malls are up in the mountains.) She could read all day long. She could research her next book, watch chick flix, or take a nap.
Yesterday was day one of my unsupervised weekend. What did I do? I began Spring Cleaning. The master bedroom needed good dusting, so I started deep cleaning the furniture with Murphy’s Oil Soap. I still have Hubby’s dresser and the bookshelves to do. These will involve moving items around, dusting them, and scrubbing the furniture. I figure it is another half-day. Because my wrists and arms are sore today, I am moving on to using different muscles
This morning (day two), I got up early and worked outside washing my bay window and my French doors. The inside of the bay window involved heavy twisting, reaching, and climbing, which was another 30 minutes of hard labor. The living room windows were washed while lunch was cooking.
I learned something important that day. When the window glass is free of soot and grime, but you didn’t wash the window sills first, they really look hideous now.
Day three involved cleaning out drawers and cupboards in the kitchen that were overfull and haphazardly organized, so you could not find anything. When I removed all the contents, I found many interesting things, especially dirt, crumbs, and dust. It was exciting to not only see the bottom of the drawer but that it was clean. Bonus thrill – I got to toss user guides for items we no longer had.
You might think I need a life at this point. Four days unsupervised, and I am still slaving away cleaning. I hate a dirty house. Perhaps you should imagine a maid cleaning to a soundtrack of 80s and 90s rock. Most songs I dance and sing along with while working. This is how I multitask these days.
Hubby is no help. He tosses nothing out. He silently delegates this to me. At times, he will say out loud, as he is looking into the fridge, “This item-x should probably get tossed,” or “There is an unknown substance in the back of the bottom shelf.” Dare I think that he was taking care of it? Two days later I see item-x still rotting away in there. This blows my mind in ways that I can’t explain. Why tell me? Why not throw it away? Who elected me the queen of the trash? This could explain why our kitchen trash and recycle cans overflow until I empty them. People (i.e., visiting adult children) will pile up trash and recycle items on the kitchen counters if the inside receptacles are full.
Who raised these people? Did their roommates teach them this? I vaguely remember when they were teens living at home, telling them I could not wait until they had homes of their own so I could come to visit and not clean up after myself and treat the furniture badly.
My new insulin pump gets data from the CGM (blood sugar monitor) and adjusts the insulin rate accordingly. It is like I have a working pancreas most of the time. Some settings must be adjusted, and I must do my part by entering carb data. Until those things become routine, I have alarms going off day and night. That’s right—an alarm alerts me if my glucose is too high. I will give myself insulin to correct the high. Now, I get alerted to the fact that my glucose is dropping too quickly. OK.
The next alert is because my glucose levels are dangerously low. To treat this, I must eat/drink sugar. Then, the whole cycle starts over. My daily chart looks like the Himalayas. I don’t mind the alarms/alerts so much, but my puppy freaks out when she hears them. My hubby usually hears them before they wake me up, so he is annoyed. With me.
When anything beeps or buzzes in my house, everyone looks at me—like I am the only thing that beeps! The dishwasher, washing machine, computers, and telephones also make noise. Since the equipment is also new to me, I can’t be sure if it’s me or something else. I do know one thing: I’m exhausted.
I put the equipment on silent, so most of the alerts don’t sound. However, the critical ones bypass any volume setting and blare at max decibels. Since I must keep the sensor reading equipment within 20 feet of my person, this is quite jarring. Imagine how unnerving it is to sit next to me in a quiet meeting when my blood sugar begins to tank. It actually unnerves everyone in the building, but the closer you are to the source (me), the worse it is.
Technology has done wonders for diabetics to become more balanced and healthy. I have to wonder, though – is it eroding my mental health to live like this?
Jodi Lea's Place 