This blog post is not written in real time. It’s been written over several days and paragraphs have been inserted and deleted many times. No wonder I get confused.
I’ve been in a funk the last two days. I started thinking about it on my way to school this morning which complicated things since I had to remember to go by the
PO to mail my TRA application and then meet Regis at Arvin’s so my car can get serviced today. The plan was to stop at Kwik Trip for coffee on the way to school. That’s a lot to remember.
Regis said he told Arvin that I left before he did so he might have to back track to find me. It’s never quite that bad but I have to get a ride to Arvin’s after school and I’m worried that I might forget and will walk into the parking lot at the end of the day and wonder where my car is.
I dropped my TRA application in the mailbox by the bank. As it was leaving my hand, I realized I hadn’t put a return address on it. Oh, brother. It will probably be lost in the mail for years like that box of get-well cards I read about last month. Forty years later, they turn up at the guy’s house. This could be bad.
My damn coffee cup sprung a leak and ran all over the floor as I ran down the hall to try and capture some of it in a different cup. I’m fussy about my coffee cups so wouldn’t take the first one offered. I know. Weird.
I went to the doctor to see about a funny lump on my hip. I had already internet diagnosed it as a lipoma and that’s what Dr. Ruth said it is. Another word for it is this: fatty tumor. Like your pets get on their backs. Good grief. How disgusting is that? A fatty tumor? Really? Nothing more exotic than that?
I believe my funk is related to contradictions I am feeling. I diagnose my own psychological problems, too.
I wish the days away and then I feel overwhelmed and sad because time goes so fast. Waxing gibbous, waning gibbous. Moon after moon.
I am exctied at the thought of retiring and being able to sweep some of this BS out of my head and then I feel deep sadness at the thought of walking out the door for the last time. I can feel it welling up as I think about it and I don’t quite know how to handle it. I had another professional commitment a few years back and I was eager for it to end but as I walked away, I wept bitter tears. More like sobbed. What the hell.
I read in some philosophy article online that contradictions are part of life. Guess I might have conjured that deep thought up on my own.
I spent one hour in a philosophy class when I was in college. I could not wrap my head around that way of thinking and thus, my reflections on these ideas are poorly developed. Doh, as Homer Simpson says. So, having properly butchered this guy’s philosophical message in my tiny mind, I move forward, no longer cranky and tired.
And on a happier note, we were invited to a Halloween costume company party on St. Patrick’s Day. It’s a pub crawl in
and costumes are half price! I bought a green top hat, a green feather boa, green hand warmers, and I have a pair of green and white striped tights. I really should act my age more often. Ha! Mankato
I shopped for some green glitter heels but they were very expensive so I bought a pound of glitter and a bottle of glue and I plan to sacrifice a pair of shoes that I already own. Craft projects are not my forte so we’ll see how this goes.
I got an email today from the assistant web content writer who told me that I was not selected as a candidate for the web content writer position. I am disappointed. I thought of all the jobs I have applied for there, I had the best shot at this one. I knew I wasn’t qualified to be web data analyst although I would have accepted the position and faked it. I could probably do that, right, Mom?
Regis thinks I have to be realistic (more realistic, does he mean?) about the jobs I am qualified to get. I don’t care. I want a DIFFERENT kind of job and think I could do a lot of things. What the hell. Did I doom myself to a life of…whatever it is I have been doing for all these years?
I talked to my doctor about my retirement plans. She thinks it’s a fabulous idea but she did not offer to clean out her spare bedroom in the event that we run out of money. In fact, I can’t think of anyone who has offered to do that. We’ll be living in a van down by the river.
We're considering flood insurance even though we live in what they call the 500-year flood plain. With our luck, this would be the year. It covers up to 2500 dollars in furs. After the tornado, a very serious agent came to "adjust" our losses. He walked out the back door onto an area that had been the screen porch but it had blown away leaving only the cement floor. He asked what had been there. I said, "A screen porch...and a hot tub and a big chair with a fur coat and my diamond ring in the pocket." I laughed maniacally but he was not amused. A sense of humor ought to be mandatory for those guys.
Well, that’s it for the day.