I am having sleeping problems. I have three modes of sleeping: heavy, deep, sleep through loud sounds; entirely too full of nightmares; free of nightmares but restless and unpleasant.
I am currently experiencing the third state. I was flopping around in bed, messing around on the internet, but I have now moved to the couch so I can type and watch tv without bugging NB. Though, judging from the snoring I can hear coming from the other room, I didn't much disturb his sleep.
Work is very annoying right now. Basically, I was promised a promotion by my boss, and then his boss vetoed it and additionally said some not so great things about my role in the organization (as in, doesn't understand what I do or see any value in it at all), which is not great. So I went from my usual caring a lot about work to being very checked out, but I just can't do it. Because then I stay awake at night and think about work. So, I've got to find someway to balance caring enough that I am not stressed about by my atypically slack attitude toward work, but also not stressed out and devoting extra time to work because I am trying to do the most super special awesome job either. I don't really want my work to make up so much of my identity, but how do people do that when the A) spend a lot of time at work, and B) rely on work for health insurance, paycheck, etc.? On top of all that, I believe in the work of the nonprofit where I work, and I believe in the work I do to support that, so how do I maintain appropriate distance and balance? Still figuring this all out.
Tonight I am getting together with some friends for the scary story writing group I mentioned in my last post. We are supposed to have something actually written tonight. I have some starts of stories, but nothing great yet. I was into writing when I was younger (like pre-teen to early teen years), and then got really into acting, which took up most of my creative energies. I kept that up into freshman year of college, but didn't really replace it with another creative outlet when I decided that acting was no longer the thing for me. Since then (about ten years), I have done some small visual art things, but I have been much more a consumer of artistic and literary products, rather than a creator of them. So, I am glad that I joined this writing group, but holy fuck, it is hard! I am a little nervous, to be honest. Everyone else is much more experienced than I am and while I know they won't be jerks, I also don't want them to be completely and utterly bored with what I bring to the table.
I am excited that it has gotten all warm out and I am really itching to ride my bike. NB and I were supposed to go on a short ride and then to the bar after work yesterday, but we discovered that one of his tires was irreparably damaged, so we went for a walk instead. I just checked the weather and it looks great so I will ride my bike to work today. I am not very hardcore - I have major respect for people who bundle up a ride regardless of cold or rain, but that's not me, so I am excited for this good weather. I need to stretch and move my limbs. I can bike to work more quickly than I can get there via public, so perhaps today I will leave at my usual time, or maybe even a little early, and then use the extra time to go to the coffee shop and read before work. I've got a couple different books going right now. The one that is getting most of my attention is The Mind's Eye by Oliver Sacks. Last year I read The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat, which is mostly about individual patients that Dr. Sacks has worked with. This book has some of that, but also deals quite a bit with the author's own loss of vision in one eye plus a lot about how eyes work and the brain works and how eyes and brain work together.
Alright, I am going to stop breaking the sleep hygiene rule of no computer use and try to get a little more rest.
Wednesday, May 1, 2013
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
Side Effects
I have been taking anti-depressants for about two years, I guess. And I like them. I don't think happiness is a great goal (fulfillment seems like a better goal, which will probably include some happiness, but happiness isn't the main pursuit). I have a part of me that is consistently sad, and has been for as long as I can remember, and I don't think that that part needs to be eradicated. I like that part of myself. However, sometimes the sadness takes over for mysterious reasons that don't have to do with real life and these nice little pills help limit unhealthy thinking and make the healthy thinking I try to adopt more real and possible.
But, sometimes I just stop taking my medicine. I don't know why. It's not a super-conscious choice, but it's not a complete accident either. Sometimes I just don't feel like I need it. But then, after a little bit, I just don't feel well and I recognize that I am having unhealthy thoughts that are not grounded in reality. And that goes on for a little bit and then I start taking my medicine again. And I get to experience the side effects once again! Like right now, which is why I am typing away on the internet at 4:30 in the morning instead of sleeping like I want to be.
Tonight I am getting together with a little group of friends. We are writing scary stories and we were supposed to share our first drafts tonight, but it looks like no one is prepared so my friend suggested we hang out and "eat candy and talk about gross/scary stuff" instead. Sounds good to me. Except maybe not candy. Eating sounds gross to me right now.
The other day I was walking down Fullerton, near DePaul, and an SUV full of college students drove by and one of them screamed at me out the window, "are you a boy or a girl?" I am kind of andro-looking from afar, especially if I am wearing a coat. So, it is not surprising to me that someone might wonder about my gender, but it is weird that they would care. Or scream it at me from their car. I wasn't offended in a "my feelings are hurt" way, but more in a, "wow, you are ignorant and trying (unsuccessfully) to be hurtful" way.
Oh man, I am lying in bed next to a sleeping NB and he just laughed in a really creepy way. He talks/makes noises in his sleep fairly regularly (earlier he was talking to me about a letter in his sleep), but that laugh was just disconcerting. I am going to go make sure he is not a demon/try to go back to sleep.
But, sometimes I just stop taking my medicine. I don't know why. It's not a super-conscious choice, but it's not a complete accident either. Sometimes I just don't feel like I need it. But then, after a little bit, I just don't feel well and I recognize that I am having unhealthy thoughts that are not grounded in reality. And that goes on for a little bit and then I start taking my medicine again. And I get to experience the side effects once again! Like right now, which is why I am typing away on the internet at 4:30 in the morning instead of sleeping like I want to be.
Tonight I am getting together with a little group of friends. We are writing scary stories and we were supposed to share our first drafts tonight, but it looks like no one is prepared so my friend suggested we hang out and "eat candy and talk about gross/scary stuff" instead. Sounds good to me. Except maybe not candy. Eating sounds gross to me right now.
The other day I was walking down Fullerton, near DePaul, and an SUV full of college students drove by and one of them screamed at me out the window, "are you a boy or a girl?" I am kind of andro-looking from afar, especially if I am wearing a coat. So, it is not surprising to me that someone might wonder about my gender, but it is weird that they would care. Or scream it at me from their car. I wasn't offended in a "my feelings are hurt" way, but more in a, "wow, you are ignorant and trying (unsuccessfully) to be hurtful" way.
Oh man, I am lying in bed next to a sleeping NB and he just laughed in a really creepy way. He talks/makes noises in his sleep fairly regularly (earlier he was talking to me about a letter in his sleep), but that laugh was just disconcerting. I am going to go make sure he is not a demon/try to go back to sleep.
Saturday, March 16, 2013
Golden Nugget
My grandpa died last week. He was 94 years old. He had been married to my grandma for over 70 years. He started two small businesses and they both still exist. He loved motorcycles and fishing and golfing. He served in WWII and received a Bronze Star. He saw every continent except Antarctica. He loved polka music and doing things himself and collecting things.
The wake was last Sunday and the funeral was on Monday. With the exception of my terrible aunt who I had not seen in 15 years being there, it was really nice. My grandma did awesome. She was exhausted and sad, but not overcome. That was a big relief. The service was good. My brother and I did the eulogy together. It was really hard and I was glad we were together.
I sat with my grandma during the wake. She and my uncle made a bet over whether there'd be more people at the wake or the funeral, so she wanted me to count everyone who came in. 140 people came to the wake. It was interesting to hear the variety of things that people said. A few people said he was gone too soon. Which yeah, it sucks when a good person dies because you miss them, but too soon? He was six weeks away from his 95th birthday. That is a really long life. And he didn't feel well and was unhappy at the end. It was not too soon.
After the funeral, I got sick with a terrible stomach virus. My dad, brother, and three of my cousins also got sick. It was pretty intense. On day three I finally went to the doctor and got an anti-nausea shot (in my right butt cheek), which helped immensely.
Two days before the wake, my very dearest friend moved out of state. She herself has been going through a rough time and had been spending a lot of time with me and NB. She'd been spending the night at our apartment a lot. It's weird that she's gone.
The last two weeks have been strange. I feel weird and moody and out of control. When I laugh it is too hard and I almost start crying. I feel like I'm failing. Last night I dreamed that I went into a shop and got kicked out for laughing too hard and being hysterical. I flung myself out of the shop and stumbled across the road, unable to stop. I fell into a ditch. It was snowing. I knew I'd probably die of hypothermia, but I couldn't stop laughing and coordinate my muscles to stand.
I feel overly-tender and I'm fucking over it.
The wake was last Sunday and the funeral was on Monday. With the exception of my terrible aunt who I had not seen in 15 years being there, it was really nice. My grandma did awesome. She was exhausted and sad, but not overcome. That was a big relief. The service was good. My brother and I did the eulogy together. It was really hard and I was glad we were together.
I sat with my grandma during the wake. She and my uncle made a bet over whether there'd be more people at the wake or the funeral, so she wanted me to count everyone who came in. 140 people came to the wake. It was interesting to hear the variety of things that people said. A few people said he was gone too soon. Which yeah, it sucks when a good person dies because you miss them, but too soon? He was six weeks away from his 95th birthday. That is a really long life. And he didn't feel well and was unhappy at the end. It was not too soon.
After the funeral, I got sick with a terrible stomach virus. My dad, brother, and three of my cousins also got sick. It was pretty intense. On day three I finally went to the doctor and got an anti-nausea shot (in my right butt cheek), which helped immensely.
Two days before the wake, my very dearest friend moved out of state. She herself has been going through a rough time and had been spending a lot of time with me and NB. She'd been spending the night at our apartment a lot. It's weird that she's gone.
The last two weeks have been strange. I feel weird and moody and out of control. When I laugh it is too hard and I almost start crying. I feel like I'm failing. Last night I dreamed that I went into a shop and got kicked out for laughing too hard and being hysterical. I flung myself out of the shop and stumbled across the road, unable to stop. I fell into a ditch. It was snowing. I knew I'd probably die of hypothermia, but I couldn't stop laughing and coordinate my muscles to stand.
I feel overly-tender and I'm fucking over it.
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
Soft Snug Sleep
I could comment about how long it has been since I have posted, but that would probably be tiresome. I’m also fairly certain that no one reads this because it is very unimportant and infrequently updated. But, I realized it makes me feel better to write, so I am going to make it more of a habit.
I am so tired. Something about the combination of food and sleep that I am putting into my body is not working and I just want to lay my head down on my desk, even though I got a solid eight hours last night.
Perhaps it is related to my two week long crazy dream problem. Every night for the last two weeks I’ve had either flat out nightmares (murder, ghosts, hallucinations), or dreams where annoying things happen (NB hides my toothbrush, someone is mean to me at a party), or really long and complicated dreams there are not nightmarish or annoying but just really incredibly lengthy and detailed and leave me feeling tired instead of rested.
In the past, these kind of dreams have been linked to a general feeling of sadness, and this time seems to be no exception. I don’t want to go to work or class. I don’t want to volunteer or see my friends. I just want to hang out in my bed and watch movies or listen to podcasts and occasionally hang out with NB and/or the cat. On Friday night I went to sleep at 8pm, blew off class on Saturday morning and friends on Saturday night, and stayed in the same pajamas until Monday morning.
Despite this general lameness, I have managed to apply for a couple of jobs in the last two weeks. I usually like my job and I really like the people I work with. But, I have been getting pretty bored/annoyed at work lately plus I am fairly underpaid and in August my office is relocating to a neighborhood I can’t easily access as a no-car-having person.
One job that I applied for is at a place that does really good work and is only about seven blocks away from my apartment. I applied Saturday and I’m guessing they had off Monday for Presidents’ Day. Despite that, I still keep checking my email and phone for a message from them. It sounds like a pretty good gig and I’d be really excited to interview.
Since we’re talking about work, I will tell you a work story from last week. Last Thursday afternoon our CEO asked our IT Manager to fix something for her and on Friday morning he foisted it on me. It is a relatively small problem that will not come into play again for a whole month. It could have been left for a couple of days or even a couple of weeks with no ill consequences, but everyone was scrambling and insisting it be done NOW because it was for our CEO. So I figured out three possible solutions, tested all three, and provided samples of all three, so she could decide which option she prefered. This took about an hour and a half. Shortly after that I saw her in the hall. I said hello and in response she sighed heavily. That’s it, no actual words. Why, you’re quite welcome boss-lady! I was very happy to urgently do a non-urgent task that is not even my job so that you could ignore my greeting and instead sigh at me.
Oh my mouth. I am having mouth pain thanks to my decision to ingest these foods in this order: two mouth-cutting tootsie pops, homemade tomato-carrot soup, V8. Tomato-y pain all up in my tongue and the roof of my mouth.
Alright, it’s time to go home. Time to hang up the phone on my company’s website provider’s hold music (90 minutes on hold). Time to go volunteer and then go home and get into bed early. Yes, yes, yes.
I am so tired. Something about the combination of food and sleep that I am putting into my body is not working and I just want to lay my head down on my desk, even though I got a solid eight hours last night.
Perhaps it is related to my two week long crazy dream problem. Every night for the last two weeks I’ve had either flat out nightmares (murder, ghosts, hallucinations), or dreams where annoying things happen (NB hides my toothbrush, someone is mean to me at a party), or really long and complicated dreams there are not nightmarish or annoying but just really incredibly lengthy and detailed and leave me feeling tired instead of rested.
In the past, these kind of dreams have been linked to a general feeling of sadness, and this time seems to be no exception. I don’t want to go to work or class. I don’t want to volunteer or see my friends. I just want to hang out in my bed and watch movies or listen to podcasts and occasionally hang out with NB and/or the cat. On Friday night I went to sleep at 8pm, blew off class on Saturday morning and friends on Saturday night, and stayed in the same pajamas until Monday morning.
Despite this general lameness, I have managed to apply for a couple of jobs in the last two weeks. I usually like my job and I really like the people I work with. But, I have been getting pretty bored/annoyed at work lately plus I am fairly underpaid and in August my office is relocating to a neighborhood I can’t easily access as a no-car-having person.
One job that I applied for is at a place that does really good work and is only about seven blocks away from my apartment. I applied Saturday and I’m guessing they had off Monday for Presidents’ Day. Despite that, I still keep checking my email and phone for a message from them. It sounds like a pretty good gig and I’d be really excited to interview.
Since we’re talking about work, I will tell you a work story from last week. Last Thursday afternoon our CEO asked our IT Manager to fix something for her and on Friday morning he foisted it on me. It is a relatively small problem that will not come into play again for a whole month. It could have been left for a couple of days or even a couple of weeks with no ill consequences, but everyone was scrambling and insisting it be done NOW because it was for our CEO. So I figured out three possible solutions, tested all three, and provided samples of all three, so she could decide which option she prefered. This took about an hour and a half. Shortly after that I saw her in the hall. I said hello and in response she sighed heavily. That’s it, no actual words. Why, you’re quite welcome boss-lady! I was very happy to urgently do a non-urgent task that is not even my job so that you could ignore my greeting and instead sigh at me.
Oh my mouth. I am having mouth pain thanks to my decision to ingest these foods in this order: two mouth-cutting tootsie pops, homemade tomato-carrot soup, V8. Tomato-y pain all up in my tongue and the roof of my mouth.
Alright, it’s time to go home. Time to hang up the phone on my company’s website provider’s hold music (90 minutes on hold). Time to go volunteer and then go home and get into bed early. Yes, yes, yes.
Friday, January 11, 2013
Sha na na na na na
Oh hi, it would seem that I have been gone a very long time. What happens though, is that I write these words in a Google doc during my lunch break at work, intending to post them to my blog when I get home, but then when I get home the idea of continuing to sit and look at a computer sounds so dreadful, and then whatever I wrote becomes outdated and pointless to post whenever I actually get around to it.
November, December, and thus far January have been very busy, with both the good (holiday celebrations! family vacation! enjoyable work projects! karaoke!) and the bad (family illness and subsequent hospital visits/worrying/sadness, personal illness (food poisoning), work stress/boredom, financial stress) plus of course horrible things that have happened and keep happening in the world that are are mind-boggling and sadness/paralysis-inducing. My mind lately seems to vacillate between overactive thinking, thinking, thinking and sludgy, lazy oatmeal brain.
In November, the day after Thanksgiving, my grandpa fell and broke his hip. He is 94 and the doctors weren’t sure if he would make it through the necessary surgery, but he did and he is recovering in a nursing home now. Unfortunately, his recovery is not going well and we’re not sure if he’ll get well enough to come home even with a live-in nurse. I’ve gotten to visit him pretty frequently, and he gets multiple visitors everyday, which of course makes the whole thing slightly less awful, but it is hard. It is hard to see him in pain, to see him not remember his visitors (he also has dementia), to see him struggle to eat (no appetite), and to see him get frustrated at his loss of mobility. It is hard to see the affects on my grandma and my mom.
In my memory of him, my grandpa has always been an old man. He went from slow walking, to slower walking, to not walking. Also, in my earlier memories of him, when he was more vital, I was a little kid. So though he had great health for his age, he still seemed so old to me in my little-kid understanding. I am very close to him, and this change has been painful, but it has not been such a huge adjustment, as it has been for my mom. I try to imagine what it must be like. One day I will probably go through the same thing - I will probably see my parents, my partner, myself, go from our most vital, able, mentally clear and present states, to slowly but surely diminishing states of physical, and possibly mental, abilities.
On to a less serious/sad/important topic...tonight I am getting a haircut! I am dreaming of this haircut because my hair is growing down onto my neck and it is the worst. I’m sure all you short-hair-wearers know what I’m talking about. This haircut was actually scheduled for last week, but too many students called in sick after New Year’s Eve. This is my first non-great experience with the hair school, so I still fully recommend cheap haircuts at the Aveda school on Clark.
I feel like I am a fancy lady who gets beauty treatments done a lot, because in addition to tonight’s haircut, last night I got a massage. I had never had a professional massage before and for Christmas I received one of those daily deal site coupons to get a massage. It was amazing. I was touching the tops of my shoulders afterwards and I couldn’t believe there were areas that felt so soft - my shoulders usually feel like a hard, wooden mass. It was super relaxing and I was definitely in awe of the skill-level of the massage therapist. Obviously I knew that massage takes skill, but I hadn’t really considered the amount of knowledge a good therapist has until I had one rearranging my limbs and pressing on different body parts in ways that seemed to make no sense but that made me feel so good.
Great job to all skilled massage therapists. I’m sure your own bodies are sore from the nature of your work and sometimes people are mean to you and maybe sometimes you have clients with really bad body odor or something. But, you deal with it and you’re great.
November, December, and thus far January have been very busy, with both the good (holiday celebrations! family vacation! enjoyable work projects! karaoke!) and the bad (family illness and subsequent hospital visits/worrying/sadness, personal illness (food poisoning), work stress/boredom, financial stress) plus of course horrible things that have happened and keep happening in the world that are are mind-boggling and sadness/paralysis-inducing. My mind lately seems to vacillate between overactive thinking, thinking, thinking and sludgy, lazy oatmeal brain.
In November, the day after Thanksgiving, my grandpa fell and broke his hip. He is 94 and the doctors weren’t sure if he would make it through the necessary surgery, but he did and he is recovering in a nursing home now. Unfortunately, his recovery is not going well and we’re not sure if he’ll get well enough to come home even with a live-in nurse. I’ve gotten to visit him pretty frequently, and he gets multiple visitors everyday, which of course makes the whole thing slightly less awful, but it is hard. It is hard to see him in pain, to see him not remember his visitors (he also has dementia), to see him struggle to eat (no appetite), and to see him get frustrated at his loss of mobility. It is hard to see the affects on my grandma and my mom.
In my memory of him, my grandpa has always been an old man. He went from slow walking, to slower walking, to not walking. Also, in my earlier memories of him, when he was more vital, I was a little kid. So though he had great health for his age, he still seemed so old to me in my little-kid understanding. I am very close to him, and this change has been painful, but it has not been such a huge adjustment, as it has been for my mom. I try to imagine what it must be like. One day I will probably go through the same thing - I will probably see my parents, my partner, myself, go from our most vital, able, mentally clear and present states, to slowly but surely diminishing states of physical, and possibly mental, abilities.
On to a less serious/sad/important topic...tonight I am getting a haircut! I am dreaming of this haircut because my hair is growing down onto my neck and it is the worst. I’m sure all you short-hair-wearers know what I’m talking about. This haircut was actually scheduled for last week, but too many students called in sick after New Year’s Eve. This is my first non-great experience with the hair school, so I still fully recommend cheap haircuts at the Aveda school on Clark.
I feel like I am a fancy lady who gets beauty treatments done a lot, because in addition to tonight’s haircut, last night I got a massage. I had never had a professional massage before and for Christmas I received one of those daily deal site coupons to get a massage. It was amazing. I was touching the tops of my shoulders afterwards and I couldn’t believe there were areas that felt so soft - my shoulders usually feel like a hard, wooden mass. It was super relaxing and I was definitely in awe of the skill-level of the massage therapist. Obviously I knew that massage takes skill, but I hadn’t really considered the amount of knowledge a good therapist has until I had one rearranging my limbs and pressing on different body parts in ways that seemed to make no sense but that made me feel so good.
Great job to all skilled massage therapists. I’m sure your own bodies are sore from the nature of your work and sometimes people are mean to you and maybe sometimes you have clients with really bad body odor or something. But, you deal with it and you’re great.
Thursday, December 6, 2012
Titles are tedious
I had a work meeting in Rogers Park this afternoon, and rather than taking public transit for 45 minutes back to my office, I'm working from a coffee shop. And by working I mean screwing around on the internet while occasionally refreshing my slow, poorly functioning web access Outlook email.
Does anyone else get bathroom anxiety at the coffee shop? I don't want to pack up all my stuff or bring my drink into the bathroom with me, but I also don't really like leaving my stuff unattended either. I would like to add remote urination to the list of super powers I hope to gain. Remote urination - the ability to make your piss go into the toilet from another room (I am thinking this is like radio waves - invisible to the eye - not like a pee water cannon that can launch my urine across the room).
Other super powers and fantastical bodily features I would like to have are flight (duh), invisibility (duh), big ass wings that I could retract to be invisible or pop out all massive (this is separate from flight - the point of these wings is to be big and scary), retractable Wolverine-type claws, prehensile tail, lion-like roar.
This chair is soft and the music is all down tempo, instrumental jazz and the sky is getting dark - I can feel myself getting all squishy and squashy and snuggly.
Tutoring session I am overhearing right now: "quotation marks aren't just for direct quotes, but can also be used to add emphasis..." Sir, no.
"Thanks" for reading my "blog"!
Does anyone else get bathroom anxiety at the coffee shop? I don't want to pack up all my stuff or bring my drink into the bathroom with me, but I also don't really like leaving my stuff unattended either. I would like to add remote urination to the list of super powers I hope to gain. Remote urination - the ability to make your piss go into the toilet from another room (I am thinking this is like radio waves - invisible to the eye - not like a pee water cannon that can launch my urine across the room).
Other super powers and fantastical bodily features I would like to have are flight (duh), invisibility (duh), big ass wings that I could retract to be invisible or pop out all massive (this is separate from flight - the point of these wings is to be big and scary), retractable Wolverine-type claws, prehensile tail, lion-like roar.
This chair is soft and the music is all down tempo, instrumental jazz and the sky is getting dark - I can feel myself getting all squishy and squashy and snuggly.
Tutoring session I am overhearing right now: "quotation marks aren't just for direct quotes, but can also be used to add emphasis..." Sir, no.
"Thanks" for reading my "blog"!
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
November was
November was my big month for working lots and lots, but it is all over now and I have the day off today because I worked on Sunday! Ack, if my memory is right I have not gone out with friends since November 2. Unacceptable! Luckily my parents did come visit last Saturday and took me and NB barhopping for about six hours. I tried this beer for the first time and it was a delight.
The other night I was on my way home from work, waiting for the bus at Lawrence and Broadway. There is a nook in the wall there, inside of which is a back door to a restaurant. Suddenly an old man came out of the door, kicking a styrofoam cup into the gutter. I felt immediately annoyed because littering is not cool and also I am 99% sure that guys owns the restaurant, so take some fucking care of your neighborhood/corner of the street. So I told the guy that I couldn't believe he would just throw trash on the ground and the conversation ended with him saying, "why don't you shut your mouth, you stupid bitch?" I felt sort of bad for hassling an old man, plus there was already trash in the gutter and who hasn't felt like "what difference does one more piece of trash make?" Also, I knew that I only said something because I was tired and cranky. But also, he called me a stupid bitch because I told him not to throw trash on the ground, so fuck him. Plus it was funny.
When you were taught to type, were you taught that one or two spaces should follow sentences? I was taught two spaces, but I think that is more old-fashioned perhaps, and now one space is more commonly used? It seems like most things I've used can adjust to either one or two spaces following a sentence, but Blogger does not seem to do that, so when the line break comes at the end of a sentence, the next sentence has a tiny indent. Oh well.
Well this entry is pretty lame, but I am tired and want to go cook and clean and be all domestic, so I'm going to go. Happy Thanksgiving - I hope you get to eat loads of delicious foods and have some good things to be thankful for. I'm thankful for ending sentences with prepositions.
The other night I was on my way home from work, waiting for the bus at Lawrence and Broadway. There is a nook in the wall there, inside of which is a back door to a restaurant. Suddenly an old man came out of the door, kicking a styrofoam cup into the gutter. I felt immediately annoyed because littering is not cool and also I am 99% sure that guys owns the restaurant, so take some fucking care of your neighborhood/corner of the street. So I told the guy that I couldn't believe he would just throw trash on the ground and the conversation ended with him saying, "why don't you shut your mouth, you stupid bitch?" I felt sort of bad for hassling an old man, plus there was already trash in the gutter and who hasn't felt like "what difference does one more piece of trash make?" Also, I knew that I only said something because I was tired and cranky. But also, he called me a stupid bitch because I told him not to throw trash on the ground, so fuck him. Plus it was funny.
When you were taught to type, were you taught that one or two spaces should follow sentences? I was taught two spaces, but I think that is more old-fashioned perhaps, and now one space is more commonly used? It seems like most things I've used can adjust to either one or two spaces following a sentence, but Blogger does not seem to do that, so when the line break comes at the end of a sentence, the next sentence has a tiny indent. Oh well.
Well this entry is pretty lame, but I am tired and want to go cook and clean and be all domestic, so I'm going to go. Happy Thanksgiving - I hope you get to eat loads of delicious foods and have some good things to be thankful for. I'm thankful for ending sentences with prepositions.
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