2005-02-14 - 1:19 p.m.
Note: I apologize to anyone trying to click on my side links. I shouldn't be let anywhere near HTML without supervision. Just move your cursor around until whatever you want shows up in the status bar until I find some talented person to help me.
Iíve never been very good at dealing with stress. Oh, Iíll deal with it Ė and probably end up doing a perfectly good job in the process Ė but Iíll also get home and cry at weird things, yell at my poor husband and dog and be unable to sleep well. So this weekend was particularly frustrating. The Friday entry was the start of my stress (couldnít get something at work to do what I wanted it to do), and then since I couldnít finish it by the time I left I ended up stewing about it all weekend. Luckily I was able to forget about it during certain more enjoyable sections of the weekend.*
One of the fun things about stress, though, is the lovely relief when you eventually get through the problem. (yes, I did get through the problem Ė yay me!) It reminds me of when Iím picking up dog poop in the backyard or on a walk and it smells so freaking bad (again, Bionic Nose Woman) Ė then I finally get done, walk into the house, and suddenly realize that Iíve only been using about an eighth of my lung capacity. So I finally take a real breath which makes me grasp just how wonderful breathing can be! The other comparison is consistent white noise that isnít even particularly noticeable (like an air purifier) that stops, making me suddenly realize that the entire time it was on I was clenching my jaw.
*I ended up drinking in Lincoln Park on Friday! (I know, wow!) I went with a fun friend I havenít spent much time with for the Chicago Canine Rescue Foundationís fundraiser. All I could eat and drink for $25! And since I would normally donate that to the Humane Society or the ASPCA anyway I figured it canít hurt to be able to get some fun out of it! I did enjoy myself (we found the quieter, less annoying part of the room Ė and Iím pretty sure the dog people were out in force meaning it was much less hootchified), had more free Leinenkugelís than necessary, and got honked at by a bus on the way home! I think the bus driver thought I was going to jaywalk right in front of him across North Ave. to the North/Clybourn Red Line stop. I wasnít, but I was teetering on the curb a bit so I canít blame him. I was pretty proud of the honking though. I should add that to my list of ways-I-know-I-had-a-good-time.
A somewhat link-heavy update:
Today Iím doing a bit of bookcrossing. One book is already out there in the world somewhere, and the other one is getting released later today. This is good for me Ė I hoard books (safer than hoarding cats, I guess), so I end up being unable to find places to put new books and just piling them on tables and dressers. I then get frustrated because Iím trying my darndest to do what Flylady says (She rocks, by the way. Other cleanliness-challenged people like me should really check her out!) and keep surfaces clean. But the books are hindering me.
A guy on the el today was very adamant that "I am my own boss! Nobody bosses me! I am in charge of my life!" He kept repeating it and getting progressively louder. I kind of wanted to validate him and agree that yes, he is in charge of his own life, but itís all about not provoking the unstable.
Weíre starting to think seriously about post-law-school house buying. This site is pretty funny because it has a real estate blog. Iíve decided itís half dorky and half cool.
I had a schizophrenic day at our bowling league. Iím really not good at bowling. Iím getting better (my average two years ago was 65 Ė now itís 99), but itís still not to the point where I can tell people how I did without prefacing it with how much more I used to suck. So yesterday I bowled a 75 the first game (worst in about a year), a 96 the second game (not good, but at least a little closer to my average), and a 140 the third game (beating out a 136 for my best game ever). I wish I had one of those personalities that would allow me to enjoy it for what it is, but I just end up feeling vastly inferior when Iím horrible then confused when Iím not.
Add to the reasons-why-Iím-a-huge-dork list: Woo-hoo! We almost have enough empty White Labs brewing yeast vials to send back for a set of pint glasses! Rock on, little yeast... I also want this giant stuffed toy yeast a lot.
Okay. Iím done proving my dorkiness. We all know itís true.
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