Sharing My World 10


Share Your World Week 46

On a vacation what would you require in any place that you sleep? 

A real bed with a real mattress which is a little less solid than concrete.  My back aches after sleeping on a too-soft surface, but when we were in Greece there was one place we stayed with beds so hard my hips and shoulders went numb and I had to keep turning one way and then the other to get the feeling back in them.  With my firm bed I like a soft pillow or no pillow at all.  I also like quiet.  And a night-light helps in an unfamiliar place, so that using the bathroom doesn’t involve breaking any bones or stubbing any toes or falling off any balconies in the middle of the night.  All of those things are much worse when they happen in the dark.

Music or silence while working?

Silence please.  Ever had one of those stupid days where you get distracted by absolutely everything? These last two have been high on my list of occasions when I’ve been mostly out to lunch.  I don’t actually have such a list, but if I did it would be a long one.  Follow me around for a few minutes.  I decide to change the sheets on the bed (which incidentally has the best bamboo chiropractic mattress ever), then gather up the laundry and take it downstairs, remember I have to photo copy an invoice on W’s printer down there because mine isn’t working, come back up to get it and decide it’s time for another cup of coffee, see that my favourite cup shelf is empty so start the dishwasher, notice the stove top looks disgusting and clean and shine it up,  then while looking for clean sheets remember the coffee I didn’t make,  put the invoice on the kitchen table so I’ll remember to take it downstairs with me the next time I go down there….and on it goes.  Music just adds to the confusion.  I don’t know where my powers of concentration have gone.  Maybe on vacation.  I also can’t remember how I ever got anything done around here when I was working 4 days out of 7.

If you were to move and your home came fully furnished with everything you ever wanted, list at least three things from your old house you wish to retain?

Everything I ever wanted would include a library, so I would bring all my books with me.  I’m counting that as one thing.  Thing two would be photo albums and framed pictures of family and boxes of treasures and memorabilia and I would sneak all my artwork into that category.  And finally, my grandmas rocking chair.  And probably that alien giraffe carving because seriously, how could I possibly leave him behind?  And all my electronic stuff.  Three is a pretty limiting number.  I like thirty-three better.

What’s your least favorite mode of transportation?

Ox cart.  I don’t have to ride in one to know that.  I like things that go fast and get me to where I’m going in the least amount of time possible.  So that means W can’t be driving them.

Bonus question:  What are you grateful for from last week, and what are you looking forward to in the week coming up?

Yesterday was my last follow-up with the specialist who walked into the room with a big smile on his face.  Once again they found nothing unusual and no reason to investigate further.  So he said, why don’t we just forget about it?  If anything else comes up I have his card and he will happily see me again.  But he sees no reason to continue with the poking and prodding anymore.  Best news ever.  Carry on as if I’m normal.  I can do that.

I’m looking forward to no more TV issues next week and for ever after for the rest of my life because last night we went out and bought a new one.  Now we have a new TV, a new digital box, and a new remote.  The TV is a SMART one.  Smartest thing we’ve purchased in a long time.  I’m not looking forward so much to paying the credit card bill, but not having W distract me from whatever I’m doing (or have forgotten I’m doing) to rant and rave about what the TV is up to now and telling me I have to come downstairs and figure out how to fix it – that’s got to be worth every penny.   And then some.  We can watch Netflix and You-Tube and all kinds of stuff on this one.  Told you it was smart.


Park and Pay and Pay and Pay

A week ago I delivered W to the airport at five o’clock in the morning.  In retrospect, that’s not seeming  nearly as insane as going to pick him up yesterday during rush hour.  His flight was due in at 5:25 p.m. so I left work just before that, figuring if I could get to the airport in half an hour, that’s about how long it would take him to get off the plane and claim his luggage, and he could just walk outside and there I’d be!  Great plan, hey? And the funny thing is, it actually kind of worked out that way.  So NOW what am I supposed whine about?  Well, there’s always something, isn’t there.   

I drove into the pull in/pick up/pull out area which used to be a nice little strip of parking meters and spaces, but is now a long row of parking stalls with one huge meter for every five or six spots. I sent another text to say I’d arrived, and he sent back he was claiming his bags.  So I got out and put four dollars into the machine for ten minutes and it spewed out a little piece of paper that said I had to leave at 6:05.  Failure to vacate the space before the alloted time meant that I would have to put in another four dollars for every 90 seconds I chose to stubbornly remain there.  Maybe it was five minute intervals.  Something ridiculous.  The rate used to be four dollars for twenty minutes.  But the airport has expanded and everybody gets to pay even if they’re not going anywhere.  Anyway, W came strolling up the walkway at 6:04.  I thought we should win some kind of prize for synchronicity or something.  We pulled out of stall number 22 with seconds to spare.  Of course the adventure was only half over because we had to drive back to the city in amongst all the other maniacs with death wishes.  As you may have guessed, we’ve lived to see another day.  Cab fare is something exorbitant like an arm and a leg and your first born.  And the drive is no less crazy.

When we were close to the exits for home W suddenly decided he wanted to take the first one and drive by the shop to see if Kenny’s truck was there.  I did, and it was, and he had me drop him off.  Really?  You’re not even home yet, and you need to stop by work??  So I came home with a suitcase and no husband, after having risked my life to collect him. Never mind having been prepared to bankrupt myself at a parking meter.  Ungrateful bastard.  I have to keep reminding myself he’s really good with that snow blower.