I’m not sure what combination of googling and odd trains of thought led me there…but I just discovered that Bruce Campbell will be appearing in Chicago this weekend. So close, yet so far. Sigh. I can’t make it, but I should get around to reading his book, “If Chins Could Kill”. Speaking of books…I just finished re-reading Neil Gaiman’s “American Gods”. Just as creepy-cool the second time around. Once again I couldn’t help but imagine the main character, Shadow, looking an awful lot like Bruce Campbell’s Ash (from the Evil Dead Trilogy). Geekgirl strikes again.

I’m finding myself in an especially uncharitable mood today. Well, not murderous or anything…just easily annoyed. Pretty much by everyone and everything. It would have been the perfect day to stay home. To read and/or watch old BBC programs. Although, come to think of it, nearly every day would be the perfect day for that.

I realize I read too much science fiction, but it is still good to discover that other geeks have similar daydreams…such as one in which a massive quantum improbability results in mundane household chores being taken care of. Though I fear my fantasy is far more elaborate. It doesn’t just stop with the dishes. Oh no, it extends from the basement to the attic, with every last bit of cat hair and dander being transported elsewhere. And the exterior of my house being transformed from grayish-white asbestos siding to something safer and more aesthetically pleasing. And the roof being revamped. And the electrical being rewired. And a new half bath materializing on the ground level. All right, I’ll stop now. I’m getting a little carried away with this. In reality, I’m pleased with myself if I manage to clean up after the little man has mangled his evening meal.

The weekend is over and, alas, there are too many tales to tell. None involving swordplay, giants, an evil king, or a beautiful princess…but we did have:
Potty-training victories and disasters;
New sass coming out of the mouth of my babe;
Bizarre sleep schedules, for us both;
BBQs gone bad (blame it on the weather);
Pleasant visits with congenial company;
Dune-related discussions;
Much bookishness;
Laundry-avoidance;
Anxiety attacks;
Some video viewing;
and, as always, strange dreams.
As I too often do, I found myself dreaming about work last night. As part of a new cost-saving scheme my department had been moved into smaller, windowless, musicless, phoneless, coffeeless and humorless quarters. Our new desks were just wide enough to accommodate our chairs, so that we were all rubbing elbows. And our lovely large-screen monitors were removed…replaced with teeny small-screen TVs. It was like a cross between Brazil and Office Space. Still gives me the willies thinking about it.

Just realized I probably sound like a spoiled brat. Most people probably have working conditions either much like or far worse than those I described.

I’m sick. For real. I guess this is retribution for the other day…when I called in sick but was only kinda sorta. Now I really am. And miserable. Can’t breathe through my nose. Can’t sleep. Can’t read. Can write, I guess, but only just barely (like that’s ever stopped me before). Bleah. I fear I’ll be useless come morning…when the little man will be chock full of energy and wanting to go galavanting off to the coffee shop and the playground.

A few fine words from the creator himself:
“The most obsessive, nerd fans of this show are me and my writing staff,” he says. “I can stump anybody on any episode. I’ve said this before, but it is how I feel and I know no other way to say it exactly: I would rather have 100 people who need to see this show than 1,000 people who like to see this show.”
The man knows my needs. Sigh.

I blame my father. Over time I’ve become one of those weather-obsessed people…and he started it all. Some of my happiest memories are of the tornado sirens sounding in the summer-time. While most people were running to their cellars for cover, Dad was heading outside to scan the skies. And, to my mother’s dismay, I ran out to join him. I too came to love the green, swollen skies…the calm before the storm…the crackling and booming of lightning and thunder as the storm built up…and the heavy rains that followed. I still love thunderstorms, but now I compulsively check the weather online. All the time. Today I glanced over at the weather factoid for the first time (that I can recall) and was dismayed, but not surprised, to discover:
‘Saturday at 9 PM the dew point in the Twin Cities was 80 and the heat index was 103. Contrast that with Tower, Minnesota, where a low temperature of 33 degrees was reported Tuesday morning! That’s a 70 degree drop in apparent temperature in just over 48 hours.’
Someone please remind me, why do I live here? In April there was an equally wild weather swing…from a sweltering 90 degree day, back to a blizzard just a week later. It’s too manic. I’d love to move to an area where the weather is a bit milder, more predictable. Seattle, Portland, and San Francisco are all in the running. Now if we could just make the cost of living in those areas more manageable, I’d be set.

Last Sunday, just before my graceless knee-skinning incident, a certain someone hosted a dinner party. He prepared recipes from the Millenium Cookbook. I’m not a huge fan of their entrees, but their desserts are divine. What we had that evening was a dense chocolate mousse cake, with maple-almond praline and raspberry coulis. I’ve found what I believe is the recipe, on another site. The reason I’m mentioning this now is that, as of this afternoon, there was just one piece left from Sunday. A certain someone was good enough to drive downtown to hand it off to me. If I’d been thinking clearly I would have brought a fork down with me. I practically inhaled the chocolatey goodness when I returned to my desk…so now I’ve got his empty container. Had I scarfed it down in his car instead, he could have kept the container (and washed it himself, heh). This led to other thoughts. Like that he could provide all of my meals this way, Monday-Friday. His vehicle, parked near my office, could be my mobile dining room. Somehow I doubt he’ll go for it.

It’s a bit on the gloomy side now. I can deal with that, as long as it stays cool. But I guess I missed my chance yesterday. Didn’t really take advantage of the gorgeous weather, aside from a brief break on the deck. It was beautiful on Monday as well. Took a few photos over the lunch hour that day.

Yesterday I called in sick to work. Something I rarely do, and generally reserve for serious illness. I did feel physically unwell yesterday. Maybe I could have managed my achiness and congestion, but I had some doubts. Upon waking I instantly had an anxiety attack or two (or maybe they were carried over from my dreams). And I’d taken some cold&sinus medication that had me seriously looped, causing my heart to race for hours. Plus I wanted to air out my scraped knees so they could scab over (lovely, I know), something I didn’t feel like doing at the office. So instead I had a leisurely breakfast with the little man before taking him in. I was so out of it that I started driving towards a certain someone’s parents’ house, instead of to the daycare. Doh. I course corrected halfway there, and tried to clear up the confusion for the little man, but he was still upset when he realized where we were really headed. After a tearful goodbye I headed back to our side of town. Swung by the coffee shop, more out of habit than out of need. With the drugs in my system I was already over-stimulated, so the coffee remained mostly untouched. Laid down for a bit. Eventually my heartrate slowed down and the queasiness subsided. But the anxiety kicked back in. Instead of resting and relaxing, I took on the household chores. That had gone undone for far too long. I changed the catbox, took out the trash, washed *all* the dishes, swept then mopped the kitchen, dining room and living room floors (couldn’t scrub ‘em, which I would have preferred, because of my sorry knees), scrubbed down the dining room table, washed many loads of laundry, and took several bags of plastic bottles down to the co-op to be recycled (the city won’t pick them up). It was all good. I think I needed to turn my brain off for a bit and just get these things taken care of. Then I had a most relaxing evening cuddling with the little man, in our freshly cleaned home.