Bleh. I'm running.

Several months back, I asked my younger brother to choose something he'd love to do with me and we'd spend a weekend together. He chose a "fun run", an 11k. It's not solid - we're not signed up or anything - but now I'm committed to doing it and I'm running again. I haven't run in years, so it's pretty painful to watch (and do!). I have a running partner who is 100% positive though, so that helps. Mostly I moan and say "fuck" a lot. It's unpleasant.

The funny thing is how my body is responding. I don't wake up sore the next day. I'm tired, sure, but mostly the pain is in the doing. It hurts my heart and lungs. My throat feels likes it's closing up. It's the most asthmatic I've ever come close to feeling. I've approached wheezing on several occasions. But all-in all, it's going well. It's possible that eating afterwards helps a lot, which I haven't ever been able to do. It's also possible that insulin helps move energy to my muscles, which has also never happened before whilst running.

I'm currently drinking coffee from a Peace mug with a white dove. I brewed the coffee with Pumpkin Spice since I ran out of cinnamon. Yesterday I spilled a cup of boiling hot coffee all over my linen top only thirty minutes before work. I sat outside at Starbucks in a wet shirt looking like a reluctant wet t-shirt contest participant. Luckily I had a scarf and linen dries quickly.

I swear I'm not a hot mess.

No dog love :(

1994 Bergschrund Honey Bear Mug

I'm drinking coffee at this very moment. It took over an hour to make it happen. I am housesitting, and there's a dog, and the dog is depressed, and that makes me feel depressed, and wishing that I was a dog psychologist and I could whisk his worries away. I also wish that I too could get into a small contained space like he is right now, in a dark hallway in his crate, voluntarily.

I have to keep myself from bugging him to come play with me. I tried to cuddle with him, but he went into his crate, so here I am, feeling rejected and not wanting to do anything, and just generally feeling like ass. I get so used to dogs loving me and wanting to constantly be with me, that I get confused when a dog meets me and doesn't automatically want to be bffs.

I did some thrifting yesterday, and maybe found some good stuff. I got into a long conversation with an employee/thrift friend about him working on getting his GED. He has a neck tattoo but I like him anyway. I think this is a first for me. I am pretty anti-tattoo, as a general rule. There were a bunch of new workers at the store. They were pretty energetic, and obviously hadn't seen a woman in a great while. I love it when that happens. Aw shucks [insert blushing grin here].

Mexican bread :)

Who this is, where it came from, I don't know.

When I was a kid, my stepdad occasionally brought home Mexican bread from work. I only remember the ones with pink and yellow stuff on top. His coworkers gave him food, he would bring it home, and it would get eaten by someone, usually. All I remember is how dry and crumbly they were, and I decided that for the rest of my life, I would eschew Mexican breads of all kind.

Fast-forward to today, and I have discovered that I love Mexican bread. I have to keep myself from going to the panaderia every day. It's on my way to work, and it's only a couple blocks away from my house, and it's always soft and fresh. I can't get enough of it. I'm always the whitest person in the place, and the only one speaking English, but I don't care. I want the bread! It's my newest coping mechanism. I got coffee there once, but it wasn't worth it. Most people don't drink coffee there anyway. They get champurrado, which is excessive to my anti-dairy palette.

If I go at 9, it's less fresh. If I go before 7, it's the best: light and airy and a little warm. Ahhhh... Just thinking about it makes me feel happy and peaceful :)

Bah!

Current list of things I am tearing my hair out about:

1. On hold for 30+ minutes with student loan company who has the audacity to have one loan, while the other company has seven. Seriously? Yes.
2. Lost my hard drive last night. It died. It decided that life was over and it died. It didn't have a long illness, or struggle desperately to stay alive. It just up and died. And this is why I was at the mall on January 2nd, the last place I ever want to be. The only reason I'm ever there is to go to the Mac store, all for the privilege of feeling like an idiot.

This is why I ate banana pancakes with powdered sugar for lunch at 2pm. This is also why I am going to go make myself a cup of coffee, and drink it whilst listening to the loan guy drone on and on about forbearance, and income blah blah blah. Nevermind. I'll call back later.

Coffee time. Peace out.

Ah, vacation...

Hey, I'm hip and down with the Southwest vibe...

All great and precious things are lonely.

John Steinbeck, East of Eden

 
So I'm not a frou-frou coffee drinker. I've had moments in time where I have been, but all-in-all, I like it strong and I like it black, and I enjoy most diner coffee. I'm not picky.

But I had a class at night a couple years ago, and found that after a full day of classes, the best way to get through was to walk to the coffee shop at 7:30 and buy a soy mocha. I wasn't flush with cash, but I did it because it worked. It kept me awake, and it gave me something to look forward to. It was my self-care.

This week, I am in the presence of greatness. I am living with the Ferrari of espresso machines. It tells you what it needs at any given moment. It makes espresso at the touch of a button. It taught me how to make foam, and I have never made foam in my life.

Anyhow, it's made me think that when I am far older than I am today, and I have some sort of discretionary income, I will purchase one of these bad boys (hey, I even found some used on eBay), and be in general, a happier person overall.

Funny how small things can do that, huh?

Summer house-sitting

Vintage Italian Race Car tie

I am often asked to house-sit, since I'm single and people assume that I will jump at the chance to live in a real house (or maybe they just know I love dogs and central air, and know that I won't have to get a housesitter for my own house, seeing as how I live in a garage and carry all of my valuables with me when I leave).

It's pretty difficult for me to leave my bed for more than an afternoon (it's really an all-purpose piece of furniture: desk, chair, kitchen table, sleeping mechanism). So my experience this summer of housesitting has been a really positive one. I was able to pack up my stuff and drive away, and I was super proud of myself for just doing it, without planning to go home every day to check on my store, but just putting it on vacation, and saying, "I'll mail it Tuesday". I'm proud of myself for getting out of bed, for weeding the garden and playing with the dogs, for taking the opportunity to walk down to the river and stumble upon a pack of super-tan cyclists on some sort of long-distance jaunt with bike trailers. And I'm proud of myself for being the kind of person that people trust to leave their dogs, cat, and schools of fish to care for.

And finally, I'm proud of myself for figuring out how to use the coffee maker, because that kind of failure would have been tragic.

Ridiculous morning.

Yeah, I sell art books. This one is on American Impressionists.

Ridiculous. That is what I am thinking right now. And that may be due to my usual insomnia-laced mania, or (more likely) it may be due to the fact that I woke up at 5am for an estate sale that ended up being SO overpriced, that I bought one thing. One thing! I was the first person in line! I think I mostly just feel silly for thinking that I was going to be able to purchase something for $1000 that ended up with an asking price of $4995. Silly me.

I did realize, as I was driving away, that I have not held up my end of the "no thrifting week". I bought a Starbucks solo coffee press at the estate sale this morning and a tape machine dispenser at a thrift store yesterday. I'd seen the tape dispenser weeks ago, then again when it hadn't sold, and I looked it up, thinking, "I wonder...". It was a good bet. Now I just need to figure out how to ship that darn thing. It will officially be the heaviest thing I have ever shipped. The last time I sold something really bulky that I didn't feel confident about, I went to the local office store, and had them pack it. I don't know why that made me feel better, but it did. We all know what trouble I have with packing :)

So all in all, I feel good. Today and tomorrow may be difficult, but I'm committed to working through my stuff (my inventory, not my emotional handicaps). No encouragements necessary, but all are appreciated, nonetheless.

A Magical Moment

 

I just ate three pieces of pie. They were tiny pieces, but there were three of them. I enjoyed every bite. They were delicious. I also ate a big pile of mashed potatoes, and a big pile of stuffing with cranberry dressing. There were a lot of greens on the plate, and I ate them, but they were less exciting. Now I'm so full and tired and happy, I can't think of anything but those three things.

After work today, I went thrifting in search of a coffee mug for a friend. I swear, at two separate stores, the guys behind the counter lit up when I walked in. It was 5 o'clock in the evening, the end of the work day, and they lit up. They wanted to know if they could help me...know what I was looking for...what I was doing for Thanksgiving... What a weird day. I was feeling strangely happy today though. Maybe it was infectious.

Sometimes I just adore thrift store employees. Sometimes they are grumpy as all get out, but sometimes we really connect. I think tonight was one of those magical times.

Another miracle of the evening was that I went to four different stores and only bought one single coffee mug. Nothing else. I didn't even get stuck staring at shoes, which often happens.

Go me!