Writer, dog mom, living with low-grade serous ovarian cancer
Ahh, feel much better now. Came into the office around 11. Brought the puppy, because I’m leaving at 2 to avoid the next snowstorm. Meeting tomorrow is postponed.
Really, I don’t know why anyone needs to work more hours than that.
Someone should totally make a “New Puppy Smell” air freshener.
Sheesh. I’m feeling a bit unproductive and useless now.
Since Sunday’s blizzard, I’ve barely left the house. I was grateful to have more time with the puppy, but when my body stays at rest too long, it tends to stay at rest.
I’m supposed to drive to the main office for a 9:30 meeting on Thursday morning, which involves leaving the house at 5 a.m. or so. And now there’s a winter storm watch for the state’s entire I-5 corridor from tomorrow night through Thursday morning.
The news keeps showing me abandoned cars by the side of the road, warning of trees falling on the freeway and advising that if you don’t have to leave the house, don’t.
My boss is understanding, but what am I supposed to put on my time sheet?
For asking Rob to pick me up some Teriyaki on his way home.
Because 1) I’m worried about his driving a little hatchback on the scary ice without a cell phone and 2) the folks at Oishii went to work today and I didn’t.
Still too treacherous to drive. Unlike Rob, I am not considered “essential personnel” at my workplace.
I never go to work.
We got a puppy!
We adopted her from my brother’s wife’s parents, police dog trainers who bred their family dog, a stoic Slovakia-born German Shepherd, with an exotic looking dam, also from Slovakia. No kidding, our little girl is a Slovakian-American German Shepherd.
We named her Isis.
Check out those paws. She’s gonna be huge.
In the meantime, she’s a lap dog and so well-behaved. I can’t even believe how well-behaved. Granted we’ve only had her six days, but I can’t imagine her ever doing anything bad. Sure, she’s going to chew stuff up…but not in a mean way.
She follows me around like a lovesick puppy. She’s obviously crazy about Rob (and he her), but if I get up and leave the room, she comes with. She actually sat outside the bathroom a few minutes ago and waited for me to come out. Good puppy.
My last job offered a ridiculous amount of vacation. Of which I took next to none, which might as well have been none, since nobody actually kept track of such things. So I got a nice departing paycheck in exchange for that relaxation I never got. Instead, it’s paying for the new insulation that has done nothing to keep the west wing of our home warm. Good thing no one sleeps at that end.
I am doubly grateful for that departing paycheck, direct-deposited as the good lord intended, since my current job sent my first two paychecks to the wrong address, and issued them in the wrong amount. I have yet to receive these.
In approximately 4 hours and 15 minutes, unless I leave early, I will begin an entire week away from the workplace. (Three of these days will be unpaid, as I have not accrued vacation days, but hey, EVERY day has been unpaid so far, so I doubt I’ll feel much of a belt-tightening.)
It’s hard to believe that it’s in the low 70s in La Jolla, where I will attend a festive backyard wedding and beach brunch this weekend, and the low 80s in my mom’s Los Angeles-area backyard. It’s also hard to believe that I can’t seem to pack for a 7-day trip without bringing four pairs of shoes. It’s not like there’s going to be a huge climate variable where I’m going.
I’ve been getting soup and a fresh herb roll regularly at the Co-op for lunch. One day they put the “healthy granola chocolate chip cookies” at eye level so I got one too. It’s vegan with whole wheat flour and no refined sugar, so I’m sure it’s very good for me, although it’s probably at least 300 calories. So now I have to get the cookie every time. And then I don’t want to finish my soup because I’m so eager to get to the cookie, and then I’m too full.
The solution? Get a cup of soup instead of a bowl.
Life’s pretty good when you can get full from a nutritious lunch for less than $5.
Yesterday, the little rhinestone pattern on the butt pocket of my jeans left an imprint in my chair at work. Granted it was stormy and windy outside and 5 extra-large pizzas were delivered to the office at noon, so, really, where did I have to go?
You know those magazine articles that list 5 simple changes you can do to burn more calories or consume fewer? Don’t you think it’s unfair when they’re things you already do? Like, I already consume mostly calorie free beverages. I already take the stairs. Or at least I used to, when I worked on the third floor of a building. I never took the damn elevator.
But now I work in a little ground floor office with my car parked right outside. I haven’t had much occasion so far to go trekking through the woods or wading in rivers. And I’ve been buying 1 % milk because that’s what my boyfriend likes. Obesity can’t be far behind.
On the way to my cousin’s wedding last spring, my grandmother sat in the front seat, and Rob, my stepmother and I sat in the back. I think there was some concern that Grandma wasn’t always altogether with it, but she was never anything but lucid and sharp when I spoke to her.
She interrupted a lull in conversation to say, “But they don’t have Zits or Baby Blues.”
The rest of us were silent, wondering, “Is this it? Has she lost it?”
I think it was my dad who finally said, “What?”
“Zits or Baby Blues,” my grandmother said.
We had been talking about the relative merits of the Los Angeles Times versus the San Diego Union-Tribune, and Grandma had made a perfectly coherent statement about her comic strip preferences.
And that’s why I think of her whenever I read the funnies. I like the idea that my 94-year-old grandmother read those strips.
Kinda like on Friday, when Rob’s grandma said she used to watch Oprah, but she doesn’t like how people write in just because they want stuff. Like they don’t know how to clean their houses.
“I never needed any help cleaning my house,” she said.
She started watching CSI instead.
Last night, Rob and his sister and I sat with her while Rob’s mom went home for a bit. Grandma hasn’t woken up since Sunday, but we watched Oprah with her.
Kari Neumeyer 