testing

So, just finished my lunch and figure I might as well take a few to do a quick journal entry before I get back to my homework. My preferred place to work on homework now is the ‘greenhouse’, aka the atrium at school. I was here for most of the day yesterday, and I’m planning on spending part of my afternoon here too. I tried working at home, but that so doesn’t work for me. Tuesday and Wednesday I got home, had some lunch and passed out. Not that a nice long nap isn’t highly appealing to me now, trust me, it is… it’s just I find I don’t get done what I need to get done.

Today it’s taking my typed notes from yesterday’s class and writing them out by hand on the slide printouts. It’s my trick for memory and re-reading them. If I take some time to write as well as read it seems to stick a lot better in my brain. It’s part of my new plan on how to stay on top of my school stuff. Transcribe my notes, then re-read all my notes on the weekend, do my readings and take decent notes, re-read those on the weekend too. Ideally this means by the end of the term I’ll have the info like glue in my brain, baby!

I’m still very firm on once I’m home in the evenings it’s home & family time. Even if all we do is wander off and focus on our individual pursuits, it’s still really important I think. I think iit would be far too easy to get all cranky and whine about the work I have to get done. Which is silly considering how much time I have during the days after and before classes.

Ok enough talking about it, time to do it. :)

I ran out of Kleenex on the weekend, and alas, it didn’t coincide with my cold/allergies going away. I’m getting mighty tired of blowing my nose with toilet paper. I don’t want to go to the grocery store this morning, but it’s starting to feel like something I should do. There’s stuff we need that we didn’t get on the pop-in visit we did this weekend.

I could wait and go after school, but I hate that struggle between getting Sara ready for bed and taking care of everything else. I don’t know. I’ll just sit here for a while longer with the heating pad on my back then decide. Woke up this morning at 5am because my back was kicking my ass. Yeah, ok, ignore that visual.

I’m rather broken today. My back’s all tender and moody, my right arm to just past my elbow is strained. I’m sniffling and sneezing. *sighs* It’s rather sad. I was hoping to go to the gym this morning after I dropped Mike off at work, but by that point all I could think of was getting home to my beautiful heating pad. I may see if Ms. Julie wants to go tonight after dinner, perhaps.

It’s funny sometimes. I know that if I strengthen my abdominals I will make my back worlds better, but I don’t want to go to the gym because my back hurts. I went on Friday morning with my readings for the classes this week and it went well. I had to skip some of the circuit because my sciatica was flaring, but overall it worked out.

I think I should just find it in me to get down on the floor on the days I don’t or can’t go to the gym and do my physio exercises. Even just the upper back stretch would help with the pain when I’m trying to sleep. I guess I just don’t want to because I stubbornly insist that I should be completely healthy and perfect. Hah.

Getting old, poor me. Carrying around too much weight and have been for far too long now. I’m still not going to say that it was a poor trade, this quitting smoking and gaining 50 lbs. I’d still rather be too fat and a non-smoker than where I was 4 years ago, smoking and at a relatively good weight for me. And unable to breathe. I wouldn’t mind both, though. Ahh well.

Not sure how I want to structure my day today yet. I have class at 4, so I want to be on campus for 3:15, but until then I have a goodly amount of time to fill up with a much bigger list of things that need to be done. I need to figure out what to do with this niggling feeling like I want to run away screaming from all my responsibilities though. I’m so tired of being smart and wise and responsible. Waa. I also need to figure out what I want to do with my resentment of needing to go to university. That I enjoy it hasn’t lessened the resentment much, and I can’t succeed if I’m pissed off all the time.

And that’s 15.

So 15 minutes in which I need to type up something of what’s nagging at me inside at the moment and drink an entire glass of water. The water is because I’ve been dehydrated for days now and I’ve been a moron about gasp, actually drinking water. I think I’m going to just set myself drinking goals or something.

I just finished tossing together my work for today’s tutorial class on the Paris Commune (1871) and took a few to mark the readings due for tomorrow’s lecture. There are a lot of readings to be done. I made sure to note the readings due for next week on my little “homework for this weekend” page in my steno pad, but still… I’m behind already.

Well, no, to be fair I’m not behind, I’m more realizing that I need to figure out how to organize my time better and fast. I may have excellent study skills, but they are rusty. So I need to do my readings on the weekend when I have chunks of time to dedicate but then I run into one of the many balls I need to juggle, my home and my family.

I’m having a really difficult time figuring out how to get the quiet focused space I need to read and make my notes and still not rob it from my home time. Sara only really spends time with me from 4-9:30 pm on the weekdays. There is a bit of time in the mornings before school, but mostly that’s filled with my nattering at her to hurry up. So out of 24 hours a day, I have 5.5 available to spend with her. Not that I have to be actively spending the time with her, but I think I should try to be available to her.

But for me to really read for comprehension, I need to be available to nobody except myself. The obvious solution is to do it in the mornings after Sara’s off to school and Mike’s at work. But then it runs into my home routine. The time where I take care of my chores, the laundry, the grocery shopping, my leg waxing, to share too much information and so forth. I can do my entire morning routine in 2 hours, if I don’t drive Mike to work and I just focus and go.

Then I run into the problem of too much focus and go for myself. If I structure my every moment from waking to bed with responsibilities I will crack. Part of my equilibrium is based on having time to slow down, to tell the A-type personality part of me to shut the fuck up and let me breathe for a while. If that’s just walking around Walmart for an hour looking at things and thinking about creating things, or playing grand theft auto, or taking a nap, or (very rarely) going to the gym because I want to and it feels right, or sitting on my porch in the sun, or… it’s just as important to me as school, my family or my home.

So where’s my balance between these things? How do I find it? I achieved balance in between my home & family and my own spaces. How to I balance in my responsibilities to my future as well now?

I don’t know. I need to just fumble my way through, I guess.

Today I’m restricted to staying home for most of it because of the lovely concept of “appointments” that Bell Canada has. Apparently the technician will be here “before 6pm”. Dude. What about the poor schmucks that have to work? I mean it’s annoying because I really dislike being required to stay anywhere, but honestly spending the day at home is not a big deal for me. But taking a day off work or school to sit on your ass all day just waiting. Ew.

Anyways, we’ve been without a phone since Tuesday now. The DSL works, the door buzzer works, but no dial tone or anything ringing through to us. We blew through my $10 allotment for the month on my cell phone in a day just setting up the appointment with Bell. I got the damn phone for those little one minute calls to Mike telling him I’d be there in 5 minutes or such. Not to function as our only point of contact.

Well that’s not true completely. There is email, but I’m so bad at it. *laughs* I read everything and then I say to myself that I’ll answer it when I get a chance to really focus… and promptly forget to make that time. There are a lot of factors in that. I write epics, so it takes me a while to respond to each email. I average about 15-20 minutes per email, and I get about 5 a week. And that’s with my lack of response.

Then there’s the perfection crap. I want to send well crafted, thought out responses, usually. Then add in that sometimes I’m just not in the mood at all to communicate with anyone. Plus that I keep myself very busy when I am feeling up and motivated… It just doesn’t work for me.

I’ve tried a number of different ways of dealing with it. The main one I try all the time is just sitting down and answering any email I get immediately after reading it. Which works for a while, but once I fall behind even with a single email, I’m up shit creek again. I may try to set aside a time every couple days that I sit down and answer email. Make it email hour and that’s all I do.

I think another part of why I dislike email is I’m old-fashioned a bit. I used to have pen-pals all over the world. I’d take a week and write their letters when I’d get a moment here or there. There was this sense of time and care that just doesn’t seem to be there in email. Plus it’s not like I can whip out my PC at any spare moment and write. She’s a bit big for that.

I guess I could try to do it in my palm, but… ew. Graffiti takes me ages to write in my doctor’s appointments, trying to write a note to someone would be akin to sticking needles in my eyes for “fun”. I will solve this someday though! It’s the new wave of communication; I need to learn how to keep up with it.

And that’s 15.

I have to say waking up in the middle of the night with the words “Another couple journal entries from you and I’ll be dumping your fatty, whiny ass” ringing in my ears is not the way to start a day. The person that said that in my dream was Mike, but I know where it came from. I had an appointment with my therapist yesterday and since it was the initial meeting we covered a good bit of my history. That feeling of not being good enough, desperate to hold onto what little I did have even though it was given resentfully, being spoken to with such distain… oh, that’s Spring of 2000 for sure.

I don’t think about that time much at all, but apparently it left echoes in me that still sound out five years later. It was also the first time since I left Toronto that I’ve sat down with a councilor and talked about myself, my history, my PTSD. I’m glad I did. The depression last year just kicked my ass, even with my training and ability to do it for myself.

My therp is Lindsey. She’s in her mid-40s, I’d say. Legally blind, and very matter of fact about it and direct. By the end of the hour the rapport was fantastic and solid. I think we’re going to have a great working relationship. I only get eight visits total with her this term, as part of my tuition, but that should be more than enough for me. Mainly at this point I just need someone to give me another viewpoint. She strikes me as the type of woman that will do just that, which is a perfect match.

It’s funny, I hate being questioned about my choices and my life by most of the people in it but put me in a therp’s office and I’m open to it. I guess I take questioning personally, as an insult on my ability to run my life when it comes from someone that’s invested in it. It’s something I work on though. *sighs* Just another thing in the very, very long list of things I watch out for and work at in my quest to be “normal”.

So today is stay at home and do things that have been nagging me for months day. I want to preen a bit and get my nails fixed up, legs waxed, eyebrows plucked, etc. Then there’s several mini sewing projects that I’ve been putting off for years. Oi. Plus I need to finish up my daily routine stuff for this morning.

At least we made it to the Gym yesterday. My back is angry at me this morning, but it was very worth it. It feels good to move, even if it’s only for a little bit.

And that’s 15. ;)

So, another day of feeling increasingly better. Which means the siren's song of consumerism has me in its hold. During this morning's routine I've already planned out my entire day and decided which stores I want to visit and where. It's like a litany of buy, buy, buy in my head. Mike needs new jeans, we need something in the shower to hold our various toiletries, I need decent shoes to walk in, and how about another pair of socks for when I lotion my feet?

Then there are the stores... Home Depot, Cotton Ginny, Old Navy, Wal-Mart, Zellers, Zehrs, Shoes 22, Best Buy, Dollarama, Sears, etc, etc. As they run through my mind I stop and think about the various things I either need or covet within their walls. Another bra that fits from Sears, electrical tape and maybe wire casing from Home Depot, Zellers carries Airwalk shoes, Cotton Ginny will be clearing out their summer stock, I won a gift certificate to best buy, what can I get there?

With the way I think about shopping it's a bloody miracle I don't spend like a fiend. Well, I do, but it never seems to be for anything un-needed. I'm not too big on the splurge on myself aspect of spending. I'd prefer to have a good reason to spend the money. Something airtight so that I don't get into trouble, not that Mike cares all that much.

I think in Mike's eyes as long as he gets his allowance to save up and horde, and I don't go all Amelia Marcos on him, it's all good. I do think sometimes he just shakes his head and sighs, but he also accepts that this is how I am. God, I love stuff. I love things. I love owning things, and even just going out and being around things.

I think that's the real benefit I got from being so poor for so long. I learned how to revel in beautiful things without owning them. I get great pleasure from just looking and touching and holding beauty. And I find beauty and interest in the weirdest places.

Anyways, next up is the 30-min tidy and then I'm done my "home routine" stuff for this morning. I can go out and revel in both my ability to walk and drive again and the sheer joy of things. We'll see what I arrive home with. *laughs* Hopefully nothing that makes Mike want to take the debit card away from me. ;)

I'm sluggishly dragging myself through my days lately. It's the 5-hour curse that's come to rest on me, I think. See, I'm an 8-hour person. I get my 8 hours of sleep a night, I can go through my day, awake, rested and present. Any more and I'm a groggy zombie, any less and I'm a cranky groggy zombie.

So, the 5-hour curse is simply this. I go to bed and exactly, and I mean exactly 5 hours later I wake up, fully alert, no chance of going back to sleep within this lifetime, or rather, morning. So this morning I woke up at 3:30am, and lay there for 30 minutes pleading with the gods to just let me sleep already.

No such luck.

I managed to sneak in another hour around 6am, but... god, this is killing me again. I know where it's come from too, my Zoloft. We've been playing tweak the drugs for a few months now and I'm at a substantial increase from the last time I was sleepwalking my way through my days. I hope that once again I'll balance out and feel level emotionally and awake physically.

It's funny too. I went to bed last night with this entire plan all formed and ready for today. I was going to use my awake time, the morning, to catch up on my neglected chores from the weekend. Then if I wasn't too in need of a nap, I was going to go to the gym in the afternoon, come home, have a bit of a nap, then pick up Sara. It was a nice plan. Too bad my night sleep was pooched.

I should've known better than to go to bed at 10:30. Ahh well. I'll do as much as I can this morning then go back to bed and nap some more. Perhaps the gym visit can be this evening after the masses are fed and I'm feeling more here. I don't know. The irony of it all is still very delicious. I feel better depression wise, and yet again I am too tired to do anything with it. At least I know it'll pass.

Oh god and I have that last order to fill too. *sighs* Back to one half an hour at a time living for me, I guess.

That's 12 minutes and I think I'm done writing for the day now. *laughs*

Ok, a 15 minute entry. Haven't done one of these in a while. But I kind of feel like my day is slipping away from me already, so I don't really want to spend a lot of time writing at this point.

I think my last entry was my wee temper tantrum about how tired I was. Hoo boy, those side effects weren't fun. Most of them have passed at this point. I don't feel much better but Mike says I'm less cranky and irritable, so they must be working at least a little bit. I'd rather be cranky and have some drive and focus back instead, but I'll take what I can get at this point.

I was hoping to wash the car today; it's gotten gross again with all the salt. A black car is not the loveliest thing in the middle of winter. But it's raining, so there's no real point yet. Hopefully we'll have another above 0 day this week, sans the rain and I can tackle it then. Not that I think I really have time yet.

Somewhere in this week I need to do my SW accounting for 2004, so I can do our taxes, etc. I go to Toronto tomorrow to see my doctor, and then Wednesday is earmarked for Julie and Sami. Thursday and Friday have potential. We'll see. I also want to sit down and sew at some point as well.

Time keeps running away from me, it feels like. It's already 11am, and I've gotten a fair amount done; laundry, photoblog, emails, tidied. But it feels like I haven't done anything "real" yet. Wonder why that is. Wonder why I dismiss anything I do at home to maintain it as not real... traps me into feeling lazy and useless. Hmm, something to poke at next time I sit down with my paper journal.

So many little things that need my attention, I feel so overwhelmed sometimes. I haven't let myself focus on it at all, I just try to do what I can each day, but the pressure lives and lurks in the back to my head. Muttering away about "needs to be done! Needs to be done! No time! No time!" Damn thing. Need to keep perspective and balance though, if I push too hard, I will burn out. I always do.

And I always seem to push myself too hard anyways. "I know better" seems to be my motto sometimes. *laughs* I don't know, today's to-do list seems reasonable. I just need to keep myself level about it all and see how I feel once I'm done. Let tomorrow sort itself out once it begins.

And that's 11 minutes, but I think I'm done. *laughs*

It's 9 am, and I have a Tai Chi catch up class in 30 minutes. I've been up as usual since 7, and been debating since then if I should go to class or not. My back hurts down my left side, it's not good. But on the other hand the slow stretching and stuff would help... maybe?

Anyways, I realized that I'm not going to make my weekly goals if I don't do a journal entry today and tomorrow. 15 minutes on the timer and we're off. I keep thinking about something Sara Astruc used to say -- "Don't stick your hand in the crazy." I really think I've spent a lot of time over the past several months sticking my hand in the crazy far too often.

It's weird, like a compulsion. I'd read the forums for what was my flag (I quit! Yay me!) and the infighting, the bickering, the hypocrisy, the never ending bullshit would just be insane, and drain me. But I wouldn't leave, or even just not read it. I'd read it every day. Sticking my hand in the crazy.

And it was crazy. The level of obsession in the higher levels of the flag was un-fucking-believable. Everything is major, everything is life or death, everything must be handled in a proper manner with the utmost in anal-retentive bureaucracy. Over a game. I didn't play in the forums much, that's a stove I prefer to keep my hands off since I learned my lesson at Hissyfit. But I certainly bought into the obsession game with my Quartermaster role, and all that crap.

Oi. I spent days just floating ships to and from blockades... because it was my job. The hell. A job? In a game?!? Then there were people that would make comments that somehow my co-QM or I weren't doing enough. Again, the hell?

Add in that one of the most respected people in the flag was a lying, moral-less snake and I knew it for months before I did anything about it, and you really have to wonder about my masochistic tendencies. I spent money I don't really have on a trip to see these people, many of whom I don't really like and some I know hate me and then stressed about it! The hell?

(There went the alarm for Tai Chi. I don't think I'm going. Ahh well. I'll just have to practice for sure today.)

And I promptly ignored this entry for an hour. Time to post it, I think. :)

Little over an hour to go until Julie gets here. After this I should probably go have my shower. Yeah yeah, I know I said first thing in the morning. But then, first thing this morning at 6:45, I looked around, realized how dark and quiet it was and decided that adding in the noise of the shower was a bad idea. Granted the only way to wake up Sara would involve tossing her in the shower. I'll have to figure out a better time of day to do it.

I think I talk about routines as a way to avoid talking about what's eating at me. There's also the feeling that I can only say so much about being depressed out of my mind before it repeats. But then I repeat talking about really boring shit like 30 minute tidies, etc. Gah.

Mike and I fought last night. We never fight so when we do it always feels bigger than it is. I hate bringing up chores and work distribution ever because it's such a sore spot for me, and he's almost always annoyed about it. I swear, we need to hire a maid to come in and take some of the weight off. I have no interest in being the 'happy housewife'. I just want to live in a clean home.

I think I may do some beading with Julie today. I have a bracelet with three garnet beads on it that have a lot of emotional meaning to me. I want to make something I'll wear with them as the focus. Right now they're just 3 beads on a bracelet of dozens. We'll see.

I don't have any words today. It's not a good day or a bad day yet; it's just there. There was fog this morning and it was beautiful. I itched for the camera. That's a good thing. I'm at least looking and seeing images again. Now to get batteries. Hah. I need to clean my desk.

And that's an extremely boring 15 minutes. ;)

Phew.

So I just wrote and deleted several ranty forum posts for my flag forum. They're discussing "Wargames" and I'm absolutely foam at the mouth opposed. See, in the game if two flags declare war on each other, any PvP battles between them are sinking. That means if I fuck up my battle navigation in the battle, I could lose my ship and every thing on it. To the pro side this adds excitement and fun to their daily game playing. To me... well... every time I think about it I want to quit the game and go throw up somewhere.

War to me is not fun, ever. War is disgusting and wrong. To take war and make it into a game insults the people that the word War means dead friends, dead family, dead cultures. I guess I'm a big old bleeding hippy about this. Kinda. If my home, my country were at risk I'd go to war. That's the same thing within this game. But to do it because some jaded old-timer is bored? I'm sickened. Absolutely sickened.

I know it's just a game. But in many ways it's not. I've put months into this game. Each ship I sail has a story behind her. I've worked harder at this game than anything else in my life for far too long. *laughs* So to have someone propose that I have two choices, stop playing or risk my ships, just infuriates me. Every time this subject comes up I get a raging headache.

Am I wise enough to post "I cannot deal with this concept. I must walk away from it." In the various threads about it? Of course not. But I really should. Maybe I will tonight.

And that's a much overdue 15 minutes.

Last thought: Have these people never seen the movie? Dude.

All good things must come to an end. In my case today, the streak of several days pain-free has come to a fall down in the mud end.

After I dropped Mike off at work today, I decided to try and check out a local card store to see if they had any ideas on how I could maybe get back into playing Magic again. Of course, there was crazy construction on the road right in front of them, so I had to change my plans. I went to Len's Mill to get some lining for Miss Sara's birthday outfit I still have yet to sew. Then I decided to dash over to Chapters to find a birthday present for Sara's best friend. Last night I was talking to her Mom and found out that she loves YA Sci-Fi/Fantasy. Ah hah! Tamora Pierce it is!

All this running around is being done while it's raining, so it's a little slick and slippery. Whatever, no biggy. Until I walk out of Chapters, step on a spot of clay, and find myself on my hands and knees in said clay.

I was even thinking as I stepped into that clay "Better go on the grass, you'll slip on that clay... oh shit, Linda, you stepped inthe clay and you're falling. Moron." To top it all off, I had an audience right there, a car filled with people. The driver is a decent human being who opened her window in the downpour that was soaking me while I was on my knees in the mud, and asked very concernedly if I was ok. I was and told her so. She still stuck around and watched as I dumped my purse in Mephostophilis and went to get rags from the trunk.

I ended up sopping up rain from the roof of Mephostophilis to soak the rags I was washing the worst of the mud off with. Surprisingly effective, by the way.

Anyways, I've been home now for the afternoon since I took my lovely fall and the pain has started. It was first a dull warning ache in my upper and lower back and has now spread to my sciatic nerve. I'm limping. I'm really worried that it's going to flare up to the point of immobility again. Just because I stepped wrong and took a fall. Doesn't that just suck?

See part of the reason I stopped journaling through May was I had a nerve and back flare up that had me in pain all the time, and barely walking for over a week. I dragged myself down the hallway by trying to take my weight through my arms, against the smooth walls. (Note: this doesn't work all that well.) I couldn't go near the floor because I had no idea if I would make it back up. So now I'm scared that it'll happen again. 'Cause I can walk, and carry and move again and I don't ever want to need that ugly ass cane I bought, but I might have to. Poo.

And that's a little more than 15 minutes.

15 minutes then I go do some more dishes. I just finished wiping down the kitchen counters and man does it feel good to see them all clean and shiny again. There's this point with the mess that it just overtakes you and it suddenly takes a lot of work to get it back to clean again. We're coming up on clean now, and it's an accomplishment.

I bought our first real crew ship this morning in Y!PP. Well, it's ordered, we now have to wait 10 days until it's finished being built. It's a cutter, the second smallest ship in the game at 12 crew (sloop takes 7). I'm pretty excited about it because it'll let us do more in the way of forage and pillaging trips.

I was hoping to buy the ship from the shipbuilder I used to make my Sloop. He has posted in his stall that he gives discounts for crew and people that work for him. A couple days ago I caught him in his stall and decided to ask what the discount would be on a cutter. There was a bit of miscommunication, I was looking for info, he appeared to think I wanted to buy right then. I couldn't because I didn't have anywhere near the level of PoE needed, so I thanked him for his time and left.

Since then he's posted an advertisement of his stall on the forums. Included in that ad, was this: "If you don't have the poe please dont bother me."

Dude!

I ended up making a good chunk of PoE this morning on a forage run, more than enough to buy our cutter at standard prices before any discounts. So I debated buying from this guy, or taking my business elsewhere. I ran it past Mike and he said "I felt that way a lot in my business too, but I never stuck a sign in the window telling people not to waste my time."

That decided me. I know it's a game, but I'm coming up on 3 years in business offline, and I would *never* say to a customer to fuck off until they can pay. Information is free, even when it's a pain in my ass, because it makes for good customer relations.

So I quit my job at dude's stall, found another shipbuilder and ordered and jobbed there. And in 10 days, we should have our newest lady.

And that's 15.

So, 15 minutes on the timer as I again attempt to grab hold of the routines that made my life a lot easier before we got Mephostophilis. I just finished a 30-minute tidy and I actually got to the point of rinsing and stacking the dirty dishes. I haven't been able to find the space to do that in weeks. Our kitchen has been a pure disaster area, and !Mike! has been the only person doing any dishwashing.

I have a bit of a get out of chores free pass as I am babying my back and my sciatic nerve as much as I can. I had a really bad flare-up with the nerve a few weeks ago, as bad as it's ever been, and I'm still recovering. It was bad enough that when I saw this tacky as hell cane going for $3, I bought it for the next time I can't walk. There's something very sad in buying a cane so I can simply walk at 29. Ahh well. Not much more I can do about beyond taking it easy, doing my physio exercises and accepting that this is where I'm at.

I've been using the pain as permission to spend a lot of time on Y!PP. If I can't walk, I can certainly sit and sail around a virtual pirate world.

I'm a Captain of a wee tiny crew on there, and it's been such a great fit for me. I was miserable as anything as a pirate in a big crew, I'm too independently minded. So I quit that crew and went on to make my crew, Wings of Aesthir. (10 points if you know how I found the name for it!) I trained myself up to where I felt I could handle other people, and then started taking jobbers. In the weeks since that point I've had 8 people join my crew and 3 leave it. I have a right hand man from one of the first mates to join with me. It's so much fun and it feels damn good to have people actually following me.

So I'm now thinking about making up a website for my little crew to put on all the various things and items of useful info. So far the only thing I have written up are the ideals of the crew. I think I may sit out in the sun for a bit today and write out the way we'll handle money -- personal and crew. We'll see what I end up with.

I want most of all to have a crew of people that have their own goals, their own ideas held together by the ideal of helping each other out under the crew name.

And that's 15.

I was once a perfect (sewing) size 18. I'd open a pattern envelope, lay out the pieces and cut on the line marked 18. Then I'd sew it together and voila! Clothing. No alterations, no weeks spent trying to figure out how to balance an apparently tiny back with a massive shelf of booage. God, I miss those days.

I've spent the last day or two focusing on my sewing. I went to BouClair yesterday morning and spent a good couple hours looking at the various patterns, notions and fabric. I can feel myself doing the crazy sewer thing. I want to horde fabric just because it might be useful someday. I'm refraining though. No fabric without a matching pattern and planned outfit. Anyway, yesterday I bought a Burda pants pattern, a Simplicity comfy clothes assortment pattern, fabric to sew both and some notions. I cut out the Burda yesterday afternoon and tried to make the tank top today.

I must be a glutton for punishment.

I cut the damned thing big, to make room for the crazy boobage I haul around. So now there's room in the front, and massive gaping armholes and I swear, 6 inches worth of loose fabric at the back neckline. It's another fucking piece to be finished eventually and donated to goodwill at some later date. And I'm now 0 for 4 patterns cut and sewn for myself (tank top, shell, shorts, tank top).

I was talking to my mom about all this yesterday, and I bitched that all I would be left with to sew for myself would be baggy skirts. She said something about getting to a size where that's all that fits anymore. Dude! I'm not that fat! I can walk into any plus sized store and walk out with a sharp, fitted outfit. (I can also walk into Walmart and come out with cheap scary jeans. But they fit!) I can buy off the rack. So why the hell can't I sew for myself?

Mike and Mom both suggested finding a tailor that would make me a sloper. I may do that and bypass this insanity. Because at this point I've spent more on trying to sew for myself than I would have if I had gone into Cotton Ginny and bought myself my summer clothes.

And that's 15 minutes.

Bad Habits seem to appear fully-grown out of nowhere, they really do. For example, today is the first day that I can remember clearly walking Sara to school in the morning since we bought Mephostophilis. For the most part it's been a shrug, let's take the car, we're late anyways. Which isn't exactly true.

Another has been my complete and utter abandonment of my routines. I rather obviously haven't been posting to my journal or photoblog. I just haven't and won't take the time to do it. Not even a stolen 15 minutes when the apartment is quiet. Do I know why I've so gleefully dropped everything? No clue. No excuse either. Which is just kind of sad.

I know I benefit from regular routines and expectations, but I just haven't cared. Ahh well. Here I am now; I'm going to work on it. Walk to school with Sara, come home and write and post. It'll work out.

So! So many things have come up to tempt me by being all sparkly and wonderful and new.

I've been playing Yohoho! Puzzle Pirates for a goodly amount of time. I started at the beginning of April, spent several weeks in a crew being someone else's free labour, debated no renewing when my paid for 3 months were up, and finally dumped the crew and started my own. Since I started my crew, I've been having a great time. It's a mix of multi-player world and puzzles. Some play it really, really seriously. Me? I play it silly.

I've also started sewing again. I bought my sewing machine right after we took possession of Mephostophilis. I don't fit to the patterns anymore, which is insanely frustrating. But at least Miss Sara is a perfect size 10. I went a little nuts on fabric in May, before I knew that I wasn't going to be able to sew for myself. So I have piles of beautiful fabric just waiting to be made into summer wear, and no patterns to sew it into. *shrugs* Maybe I can switch back to wearing more skirts now that I'm not walking everywhere. We'll see.

I've also jumped on this Italian charm bracelet thing. Sara bought a book and a bracelet set through Scholastic and as soon as I got to see it up close, I went out and got a starter bracelet and some cheapy charms. I covet a few ones I found online.

And that's 15 minutes. Now to water my poor plants.

So, 15 minutes on the timer and here I am -- in between my every weekday chores and my weekend chores that were neglected. I know that if I don't do the floors today, I'll get caught up in this week's busyness and it won't get done until next weekend. And since next weekend already looks busy that would be a bad idea.

I went with my Mom to Doors Open this past Saturday. I drove. I'm loving how fuel efficient Mephostophilis has been. We drove out to Guelph then to the various sites within Guelph and home again on about an eighth of a tank. It puts a lot more options for things to do and places to go there for us. I fully intend to get a GRCA pass for this summer and use it as often as I can.

I took a little while this morning to check out the other Doors Open sites through the summer. Many don't appear to be really appealing to me. But then again some of the sites we went to yesterday I wouldn't have chosen, but I enjoyed nonetheless.

Heh, I just drifted off thinking about random stuff and typing none of it.

One of the things I really really need to do this week is prepare my garden for planting. It's 2 weeks to last frost and I should have started my radishes and carrots by now. Not to mention the watermelon that I planned on starting indoors 2 weeks ago. I'm trying out growing veggies on the porch this year instead of my normal flowering vines. If it doesn't work out I may try to find myself a community plot next summer. I'm actually still debating renting a plot anyways this summer.

I think it would be a good idea to get out of the house and garden somewhere else. I could keep my tried and true flowering vines on the railing and then harvest from the plot. It would also force me to interact with other people. Maybe. I don't know. Sounds like a good idea but there's part of me that wants to stay at home, safe and sound. Hah.

Maybe I'll email the contact the woman that coordinates the Kitchener gardens gave me. Apparently there are over 40 community gardens in the region. There has to be one that doesn't require volunteering. I'd much rather pay for the plot and go from there.

And that's 15.

Last Monday we picked up our car from the dealership at 6pm. Since then we've put on just over 600 km, filled the tank once and I'm now regaining my confidence as a driver.

I've been learning how to drive manual with poor Mephostophilis for at least an hour each day since we picked him up. The worst day was Tuesday. I finally stopped driving and just parked for an hour so I could calm down and de-stress a little after I found myself screaming fuck at the top of my lungs after stalling once again -- this time turning left after the light had changed. I stalled it 3 times in a row with it green in the other direction.

The hardest part about learning manual after driving for over a decade on automatic cars is how my normal defensive driving habits have lost focus. I'm paying too much attention to how the engine sounds, what gear should I be in, easing into the clutch, "please god don't let me roll back into this asshole that is a foot away from my bumper on a hill", and so forth. I know that as my confidence increases I'll get back into my habits. I just hate it. I feel like an accident waiting to happen.

What I really appreciate is the lessons R gave me in our teens. The evenings he let me drive the Fox around getting an understanding of how a manual car works. I still have a body memory of how to drive manual from those lessons so many years ago. It has made my life so many ways easier. I can't imagine trying to learn from scratch on a new car.

And that's 15 minutes.

Question: Who gets the reference of our car's name? It's a rare thing that anyone does. I think my Mom did and so did Mike when I suggested it. Who else? Without google! ;)

Ok, so I'm going to steal 15 minutes from my surprisingly busy day today to do a quick journal entry. I find that if I plan to go on into my day right after walking Sara to school without coming home, I get an awful lot done before noon. This morning I walked her partway (I don't walk her all the way if she's been a massive pain in the ass about dawdling through that morning's routine) to school, and then headed over to the bank to put in Mike's income tax refund.

It's a tidy sum this year. We've already spent it in our heads too. So much to the Visa, so much to the GST repayment we should have done in the past year but we didn't, so much to the RRSP, and finally the remainder is split between both of us. Gives us both a few hundred to play with. I've earmarked my chunk for a sewing machine and accoutrements. Mike's thinking about an iPod.

We could take it and put it down on the car as the down payment. We really could. I think it's a bad, bad idea to do that though. I mean, we have this money spent in our heads. It's something we look forward to all year this chunk of guilt and explanation free cash to spend on anything our little hearts desire. To turn around and take it away to put it on this already expensive car would be a recipe for massive resentment. At least for me. I *know* I'm going to be mighty pissed at putting out $500/month before gas and maintenance until I get used to it.

The messier this car buying gets, the more time it takes, the more I think it's a stupid move to do this. But it's not at the same time. I'm torn between the two. I guess I'm not seeing yet the benefits of all this bullshit. All I'm seeing is the stress and what it's done to my quiet little life. If it's going to be another 2 weeks I think I want to go on another test drive. Hah. It's been 3 weeks since we got the loan and got started on this. On the plus side i have 15 minutes of driving fun.

Ahh hell. I'll be patient. I'll do what I can to keep my life on an even keel and try to be patient. I just feel like I'm holding my breath. Doing the "that should wait until we have the car" game.

That's 15. And now I have to call the lovely Melanie back.

I think today is a good day for another 15-minute entry. I need to make out the menus and grocery lists for March today and that always takes a couple hours. It's an investment of time when I do this but it saves so much time and a bit of money over the month. It's so easy to make dinner when the humming and hawing is eliminated. I was going to do it yesterday but I ended up going out with M. I've called them a couple times over the past month and sent a couple emails but there hasn't been much response.

I'm not one to judge on the lack of a response, I know just how bad I am about calling people. I guess all I personally expect is some acknowledgement of my standing and what's going on. I figure in my case, I'm very clear about how poor I am at responding to emails or phone calls so someone having an expectation that I would be anything else is unreasonable. I'm usually the one that never calls, but I do try to be better at it.

Some of my relationships it's flipped and I'm the one that calls the majority of the time. I'm ok with it as long as I know I'm not considered a nag or someone to be avoided. All I need to hear is that I'm calling too often, they're busy, please go away for a bit and I'm ok with that. I was kind of assuming with the silence from the boys over the past month and change that I was being too pushy and they were being non-confrontational.

Turns out they've been busy and I wasn't clear enough that even a phone call would be cool. I seem to have given the impression that I'm not up for simple phone conversations, that it always has to be an outing. Which is true to an extent. I prefer face-to-face interactions. I find a phone creates a distance there that I stumble over at times. But I also understand that a phone call can be the easiest way to get some interaction without disrupting an evening.

So I need to be clearer about what I want. Make clearer plans and intentions. When I phone to suggest we do "something this weekend", make it "let's go to the market on Saturday?" and say that I'd like to hear back either way.

I suggested to Mike last week that we should start having our friends over for dinner on the weekends we don't have Sara. We have one planned for March and I'm really looking forward to that.

And that's 15.

Going to try something new -- same idea of my 30 minute free write entries but shorter. 15 minutes free write for the days I'm too scattered to focus, or crazy busy and seemingly unable to grab 30 minutes of quiet alone time to write. I can steal 15 minutes easy even when people are home, I think. Today it's mainly because I don't want to dedicate 30 minutes to my goddamned back and how pissed off I am about pain and having to take it easy all the freaking time.

I was doing my physio exercises last night like a good girl. I did the upper-back stretch for 5 minutes, the new nerve stretch and then flipped over to do the first of my abdominal exercises. A little tender but nothing too bad. Then when I flipped onto my back I moved badly. I seem to remember moving both sideways and flipping at the same time. Searing fucking pain through my lower back, hip, ass and straight down my right leg. I'm assuming my shimmy flip managed to nicely pinch my already inflamed nerve.

Me being the wimp I am hollered and then started to cry. Not a chance that I'd be able to finish my exercises so I slowly peeled myself off the floor (with further curses and crying flying through the air) and hobbled over to the couch. I spent the rest of the evening on the couch trying to get my daughter to bed and ignore the pain. The burning sensation wouldn't go away in my calf; I swear it felt like someone had shoved a hot poker through the muscle from ankle to knee. Insane.

I jokingly said to Liz (my Physiotherapist) on Tuesday that it seems like a toss up, I can either walk and not sleep or I can sleep and not be able to walk. It's like my three areas of injury seem to trade off with each other. Upper back, lower back and whatever the real name of the major nerve that runs from my spinal cord to my foot is called. I have to stop bitching about it though; I can still remember when it all went bad together. When my back would spasm and then my hip would start throbbing and it was a concert of pain.

And that's 15 minutes.