Update
I am tired. Clocking 42 hours of work this week. Three days of doubles in a row, so far. My whole body aches. Even my fingers. Especially my legs.
But I am well and happy. I sing along to my iPod while I ride my bike to and from work. My job is wonderful most of the time. I remember my customers' names. I know how to make a cheese plate and a beef sandwich and fettuccine from scratch. Tips have been stellar, and I got a bonus this week to boot. They sprayed for bugs in my house this week so I no longer get spider bites in my sleep (for now). I don't have to work till 5 p.m. tomorrow, so I can sleep in and wash clothes and maybe go get a tattoo. And then I have early shifts on Friday and Saturday, but that means I get the evenings off.
It's almost my birthday. I'll be 24. Today I got my first consoling, "It's okay that you're having another birthday," "Don't be sad that you're so old," birthday card of my life. I don't feel like 24 warrants pitying birthday cards. I am still glad to be a year older, still glad that it is my birthday, still excited to be 24 instead of 23.
I've been listening to old Cloud Cult albums and the new, leaked, and stolen Sigur Rós album. These are a few of my favorite things.
It is sweltering in Nebraska. Most times that's okay. Right now, my computer is hot on my bare knees, and I am sweating even though it is almost 11 p.m. Yuck.
I bought a size smaller than normal pants last week (and "normal" is still about two sizes smaller than I've been most of my adult life). Then, this week, when I could pull those same pants off without unbuttoning them, my roommate gave me a pair of hers. She is a tiny girl. They fit.
I have a new idea for a creative project. I'm not disclosing it yet. It might be pretty cool. I bought supplies, used, today. In addition, I might teach myself to embroider. I want to embroider sassy words and designs on everyday objects like dishrags and underpants and bath towels. But if I keep working doubles, I'll never have time for that, and if I don't pay off my library fine debt, I'll never be able to get a book to learn from.
That's my life in a nutshell.
Labels:
News of Me
5 comments:
Last time I checked, you can't donate blood for several months after you get a tattoo. Might be worth checking into if you're still relying on plasma for cash. :)
I want to see your design!
I'm sorry for your sake that it's been "sweltering."
Personally, I don't agree. I think it's been lovely. I still haven't turned on (read: fixed) my air conditioning, and I've been perfectly content. Haven't even had to resort to sleeping in the basement. The nights are still cooler than the days and with the windows cracked just right there's enough of a breeze to foster my contentment.
And I hope the same for you.
It's all part of my plan to un-condition myself. That is, un-air-condition. We rely on the stuff too much, I feel.
you're right--it's possible that working in a bakery/dishroom, living in an apartment where only one window is not painted shut, and walking/biking to work have an impact on my level of heat tolerance. it has felt very hot to me, however!
oh, and laura--you can't donate plasma for a year. but i haven't been going anyway, so i'm pretty close to just doing it. :)
yes, understood. And I'm not trying to call you a wimp or anything. I spend much of each day outside working the yard, in the hot sun, so I do know.
Would you like a pail of paint thinner for your windows?
Post a Comment