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Thursday, Jan. 16, 2003 / 9:15 p.m. ~Just Breathe~ Some of the web searches that lead people to my diary are really strange. The two I just read were most notable, but I don't think I'll note them. No need to encourage folks. Let's see, so what's going on? Well.... I'm not watching "CSI". That's number one. Oh, it's on, but I'm not in the mood to see fake dead bodies. Fake discombobulated eyeballs, or was it real? Either way, I was eating the last of some pasta/smoked mozz salad and the viewing of fake gore was just, well, gory. Not now, thanks. We're going backwards here. Wait, Telepopmusik's "Breathe" is on TV, must be the Mistubishi spot - which reminds me of my KaZaA and all the fun I had downloading that song and many, many others, which reminds me of how I'm not doing that right now because KaZaA is on the OTHER computer, you know, the one I'm not trying to fix because I can't wrap my brain around it right now? I've been so clumsy lately. I've been saying the wrong words. I've been at a loss for words. It's like I'm functioning at 40%. It's just not the usual sharp me. My horoscope yesterday, the one on Yahoo!, said things would appear 'vague', that I would be sort of wonky, not that I'm stupid, but that the alignments of planets and things would indicate that I'd be way off. It was way on. Dead on. I spilled water in my cube at work three times in the past week. Knocked over my water bottle, twice. Spilled some on my keyboard. I never do that. Never. Last week I made two errors, two obvious typos, and I never do that. I just don't. I proofread my work, two or three times. I looked at both errors and missed them. Completely. On a whim, I asked the 'new boy' to audit my work, and he found them. Saved me from losing my 100% status. Saved me from possibly losing my next quarterly bonus. Freaked me out. Kathy said, "You're human. People make mistakes.", and I said, "I don't. I never make errors." So, we've established I'm 'off', 'vague', 'wonky', and I think 'senile', or approaching it. I call Norman Gladys, all the time, and vice versa. I say the wrong words, all the time. I catch myself, sure, but I repeat myself too. Start telling some story to the 'new boy' and he says, "Yeah, you told me." Makes me feel OLD. But then I say, "Hey, Julianne Moore is 42! I'm only 41. Look at HER. See? It's okay. I'm not that old." No excuses. Last night was big TV night. BIG night. As I told one of the temps, tall dude, it was 'fake reality TV' night. "Star Search", "The Bachelorette", "Celebrity Mole", preceded by "Felicity", as always. Add to that eating, getting ready for bed, and literally falling asleep sitting up, around 10:45 p.m, and I didn't even bother logging on to this PC. No fookin' way. I dreamed my other computer started in safe mode. I was using it and suddenly I realized I was using it, and it was in safe mode, so everything looked really weird, all the settings were defaults, but it worked, so I was going to get into Windows Explorer and move my files back to how they were, fix the damned thing. Only a dream. I'm training a 'new girl', and she's cute, cute, cute. Tall, skinny, 22, long hair, beautiful gray/blue eyes. Big bright smile. Smart, funny. She's perfect, so far. Piercings, tongue, bellybutton, tattoos. I like her. I'm still straight, but I like her. I hope she stays awhile. (here's how wonky I am, I just had to look up 'awhile' to see if it's one word or two - what's wrong with me?!) What else, what else, what else? New temps, three of them. Training. 'New Boy' is getting married Saturday. I'm invited to the wedding, we all are, but I'm going to D.C. I told the Manager (M) about the trip, about the protest, because she asked. Listerine is excited for me. She gave me some travel sized hand lotion to take in my pack. Even the 'new boy' wished me luck. He'll be off tomorrow, I suppose to recover from tonight's bachelor party. Next time I see him he'll be married. I'm doing my last load of laundry. I've finished my shopping. I bought trail mix and soy nuts and beef jerky and animal crackers. Water. Speaking of water, I asked at the apartment office about the water. There was a tenant in there, a foreign man with a Slavic accent, clothes covered with paint, sitting, talking. The assistant manager and I asked him what he thinks (he's lived here 4 years) and he was very animated, said the water smells like "Cloro". I'm sure he meant chlorine, or Clorox, but that's not it. It smells like a gas. When I turn on the washing machine to fill it I have to step back because the fumes are so strong. They give me a headache, make me nauseous. He said he told his mother not to drink the water. "I tell my mother, 'No drink the water!', it smells strong, it makes skin dry, it's terrible". We deduced it's the city water supply. He mentioned the news story, the one I missed, the one telling us to boil it, telling us it's cancer causing, whatever 'it' is. Dammit, I missed it. The assistant manager said she'd received NO complaints. How can that be?? Does everyone know but me? Was it the TV news story? How come I couldn't find it online? It's in the water at work too. How can people not smell it? Is my olfactory that sensitive?? He also said, the tenant, "John", that he is buying BIG bottles of water, lots of water, that he's been here four years and nothing like this has ever happened. At least it's not just me. I asked my neighbor across the breezeway and she said, "Hey, I'm from New York, I never drink the water." But doesn't she SMELL it??? No, she said. Her son said it was cloudy, but she hasn't noticed. Jesus, doesn't she bathe? I was washing dishes tonight and thought I'd pass out just smelling it. It's bad, really, really bad. I read on the epa.gov site that people have the right to potable drinking water. Like it's some sort of American right or something. Maybe I should bring a class action lawsuit against the city...... I should get the water officially tested. That will be next on my list of things to do. So, la dee da. Tomorrow night I leave for D.C. The cats will gorge themselves on the food I leave to last them the two nights I'll be gone. They won't pace themselves. As I told the man at the pet store that will not carry the automatic feeder I want ("We get SO many requests for it!", "So why don't you consider carrying it?", "Oh, that's up to the BUYER. It was our number one requested item at Christmas though.", "So, again, why doesn't the BUYER buy it for the store? You could SELL it???!!!", "It's not up to me", yada, yada, yada), "My cats are not free feeders, they are appointment feeders. If I leave out food they will eat it all at once." Appointment feeders. It just came out of my mouth like that. Wonky, I tell you. It's a very cool feeder, I saw it online and I will obviously need to buy it online - no, it's not at Pet Smart either - it has these compartments that open at specific programmed times, like using a lamp timer. Set it to go off when you want the animals to eat, it pops open, they eat, it stays open, but then at the next time the next compartment lid pops open, etc. Only thing would be the difficulty of two cats eating when that thing pops! Listerine asked me if I'm all packed, but I use my backpack to carry crap to work, so no, I won't pack until tomorrow, and then it will be mostly toiletries and snackage. Extra shirt and socks, underwear. Layers of clothes. Scarf, hat, mittens, ear muffs, long johns. Ay caramba! Must remember to check weather for D.C. Haven't yet. Here, tomorrow, it's supposed to be a winter wonderland, i.e. snow. Which means everything is closing, already. Announcements in a scroll at the bottom of the TV screen. Already. We are such pussies. I'd love a 'snow day', but we won't get it. So, alas, I'm prepared to go in and sit with the lovely 'new girl' with the beautiful face and critique her phone skills. Then, after work, shower, "Felicity", pack, set tape to tape the Stones on HBO, get in car and drive to train station, sit and wait for everyone else to show up. Gauge my bus mates, see who I know, who I'd like to know, and get on board. Chat a minute, pass out. Wake Saturday to the sunrise over the waterways of Virginia. Get excited as we pass the Pentagon, the Lincoln Memorial, etc. See hordes of like minded souls with signs and backpacks and puppets and etc. Whee. I think I'm ovulating, I have that pain in my lower right quadrant. It's the right this time. It's like a cramp, but it's not time for cramps. Ever notice that? It's the egg being released. How fun to be a woman. Not. Loads of rambling, eh? I'm sure there's more, but I'm documenting it in my paper journal, so I don't feel the need to be more specific. Suffice to say, "WHOA!", a lot is happening. It feels as if someone jacked up the RPMs, the past two to three weeks. Just crazy, just stuff. I miss New Year's Eve, lying in bed, having my period and watching "The Twilight Zone", eating Thai leftovers, not a care in the world besides changing my tampons. Seriously. Since then it feels like I'm constantly running it down in my head... "Okay, now I have to do this, then that, and when I finish that I don't want to forget I must do this, oops, better write that down, I'll forget, better stop off there after work, and then I've got to go to the other place tomorrow, got to wash dishes, do laundry, eat, don't forget to eat, what will I eat?, better shop for tonight, but what about tomorrow?, what am I taking to D.C.?, how do I get to the train station, I don't know that one, do I train the 'new girl' tomorrow, or does Kukla?, wait, Kukla is not there tomorrow, what about the 'new boy'?, shouldn't we get him something?, he is getting married after all, and what about?, and what about?" Just like that commercial on WE, the yoga stretching lady trying to remember all she has to do, all she has to not forget, all the while remembering to breathe...... "diapers, drycleaning, take out the trash, diapers, drycleaning, shave my legs", etc. I'm with you, my sistah! I want to just sit. Just breathe. Cost of the War in Iraq
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