To say that today has been an uphill battle would be putting it mildly. I actually feel like late tonight or tomorrow morning I could have a full-blown cold or flu, for the first time in almost three years. I was tired, beyond tired, yesterday, and a friend in my class noticed, but I went over to the grad pub to hang out and chat with everyone for a bit after class, then came home, read for about an hour, and went to bed, getting a normal amount of sleep. This morning I woke up, still exhausted. Then, when I got to work, I could not warm up. Bear in mind, I was dressed for winter today. My ankle-length suede-like skirt (but soft, and heavier material), my super thick and warm raspberry-coloured sweater, and boots. I'd worn a coat overtop of all this while walking from my car to my building, as well. Once I was inside, it took me three hours to warm up, and I had my fleece throw blanket wrapped around me, and at one point my huge woolen sweater overtop of the sweater I already had on. And I was rubbing my arms with my hands, and drinking hot tea. (Not at the same time, because that could have resulted in quite the mess.) It really does not help that the heat is not on in there, and there is still cold air blowing from the vents.
Once I finally did warm up, though, I was way too hot. Then freezing again. Then hot. And tired. And sniffly. And so on. At this point I decided I could probably only make it through my afternoon class today (and I was right), otherwise my body was saying, get thee first to the grocery store for some warm food to make, then home, to make that food, eat it, and crawl right into bed. It could not deal with whatever food I'd been carrying around in my bag all day for dinner during the half-hour break between my classes, then making myself go to my class to write an off-the-cuff response piece to whatever we would be asked to respond to today (it's always a surprise), and then talk about psychoanalysis and Sigmund Freud for three hours. No, I will not lose marks for not doing today's response piece -- we keep only the highest 8 of them for a certain percentage of our marks; it's been anticipated that most of us will have to miss a class or two during the term for one reason or another. Another reason why our faculty rocks. :)
I am hopefully heading off whatever this is by being home and in bed right now. It just feels like my body is trying very hard to fight whatever it is off.
Maybe it's because last week there was both a full moon, and on Friday, the first of two Grand Quintiles for this month. Maybe it's because we're in the zone preceding a solar eclipse, which is to happen on the 14th, and after that heading into a lunar eclipse 17 hours before the second Grand Quintile. Whatever it is? Is bringing out the crazies and leaving me totally impatient and exasperated. And mayhaps a wee bit irritable.
Case in point. Lunchtime, today. I'm talking to a friend on the phone, when my cell phone starts ringing. I tried to dig it out of my bag but missed the call, so went back to talking. Then it starts ringing again. Same phone number, from somewhere over in Quebec. The first thing the woman on the other end demands to know, is "Who is this?" and then several other questions, and going on about how I'd called her friend and my number was on their caller I.D. and how she'd been talking to a girl and then a guy and... and I stop her. No, I did not call her. My phone was in my bag (keypad locked), and I'm at work, so she has the wrong number. But oh no, she says she can't have the wrong number. Me: "I did not call you." Her: "Yes you did, your number is on the caller I.D." Me: "What number do you have?" Her... reads off a phone number that is ten digits long. The first 7 digits of these are my cell phone number, but then there are four more digits. Me: "My phone number is ___-____, but what's with the ____?" Then, I figure out, that she had a call from where the first three digits of my cell number are an area code, thus I try explaining to her, that no, phone numbers without their area code only have seven digits, so try dialling 1, then the area code, then the remaining seven digits. But she is not listening, says she's going to try dialling again.
Of course, she dials my phone. Obviously. I am getting peeved, explaining to her that OF COURSE it's going to default to a 613 or 819 area code phone number if she doesn't dial the one and the area code, and this goes back and forth a zillion times, and she is not understanding and talking very strangely and not comprehending that phone numbers here in Ottawa, without their area code have SEVEN DIGITS. And? She seriously sounds like she's on drugs. So I'm aggravated, because she's arguing with me that I called her (like, okay, even if I had, what the heck would she want to know, or are we just calling phone numbers back for the fun of it?), and I would like to eat my lunch now, dammit... so I ask her, "Are you on drugs?"
Well, that set her off. She growls, "I am not f---ing on drugs!" and starts yelling at me, so I hang up on her and turn off my phone.
Wacko. So many wacko encounters in the last couple of days. I had one over the weekend as well, but at least with a nice, slightly eccentric person.
Really, if you want me to 'get it' in certain circumstances, subtlety -- even subtlety that isn't so subtle -- probably isn't going to work
It'll-hit-me-later-itis. You may know what I'm talking about. In my case, it's chronic. Terminal, even. I first witnessed its clutches late last winter, when I just didn't get it until after the fact -- after the fact being the point where I'd have to resist the overwhelming urge to smack my forehead. While my constant missing the obvious eventually turned out all well and good... or not... or something... don't ask... you would think I'd be a little more on the ball about these things. And yet, I fall prey to it again. As my girlie so wisely suggested, there should be a support group for those of us with this affliction.
An incident last night that might have been a total fishing expedition, but had I realized it at the time... gah. You know, I just might have taken the bait.
Anyway... welcome to life at 101 lbs. Yes, I am supposed to weigh more than this. According to the BMI, I am now 'underweight'... this is not on purpose, believe me, and I feel fine... it's just a result of all this dinner on the run turning into something more like a snack somewhere between leaving work and going to class, and... yeah. That said, tonight is all about indulgence. Good food, yum... Making tetrazzini, a new recipe for it that I'm trying out, some nice, fresh bread, yummy salad... a real meal. Happy sigh.
Re: my post from yesterday regarding Googling and a visitor from a certain place...
Er, never mind... I think I figured it out, so if your name is three letters long and you particularly liked the rule that was once written on my whiteboard of my old office, and you have a Magic 8 ball (I think), then hello and welcome. :) I haven't talked to you in awhile!
I realize this blog is pretty impersonal and not too in-depth on the happenings of my life... for just this reason. It's a public blog associated with my name. So, my apologies if all is disappointingly bland!
