Thursday, February 27, 2014
Monday, February 24, 2014
If Worry Were Warm
Worry does a lot of things.
It's a weight management tool.
It's a sleep modifier.**1
It's an exercise amplifier.
But what I really need it to do this year is heat my home. Because oil is expensive... and heating system retrofits are expensive... and really what I can afford is six to eight hours a day of gut-wrenching troublethoughts about how we're going to earn our next BTU.
I'm ready for spring.
**1 For me, it makes me sleep more hours, but sleep restlessly. When I'm overwhelmed I hit the hay for hours of tossing and turning in hopes that I'll awaken enlightened with a solid plan for putting the worry behind me. Usually I just awaken covered in drool, with pillow-wrinkles mashed into my face.
It's a weight management tool.
It's a sleep modifier.**1
It's an exercise amplifier.
But what I really need it to do this year is heat my home. Because oil is expensive... and heating system retrofits are expensive... and really what I can afford is six to eight hours a day of gut-wrenching troublethoughts about how we're going to earn our next BTU.
I'm ready for spring.
**1 For me, it makes me sleep more hours, but sleep restlessly. When I'm overwhelmed I hit the hay for hours of tossing and turning in hopes that I'll awaken enlightened with a solid plan for putting the worry behind me. Usually I just awaken covered in drool, with pillow-wrinkles mashed into my face.
Thursday, February 20, 2014
Tricksy
"Why is Sunny covered in water,' you ask?" I announced as I strode into my boss' office.
She didn't.
"I'm glad you asked," I continued without pausing for her response. "I refilled my water bottle, you see. But while I was filling my water bottle, I got my thumb stuck in it. And I couldn't get it out."
Boss' head hit her desk.
She laughed so hard, she stopped making sounds.
Water bottles are tricksy, ReaderFriends. Don't let yours dampen you today.
Monday, February 17, 2014
Cocoa
Walked into third floor kitchen - no hot chocolate powder.
Climbed downstairs to second floor.
Walked into second floor kitchen - found hot chocolate.
Second floor coffee tepid - made sludge with hot chocolate in cup, but did not create drinkable drink.
Dumped out chocolate-and-coffee slop.
Rinsed mug.
Made fresh carafe of coffee on second floor.
Put fresh hot chocolate powder into mug.
Climbed stairs to third floor kitchen.
Coffee pot empty.
Made fresh coffee on third floor.
Waited.
Finally got hot coffee to mix with cocoa powder to create morning mocha.
Realized kitchen held no spoons to stir for optimized mocha-y goodness.
And that's how I ended up stirring my coffee with my Zen Garden rake.
Climbed downstairs to second floor.
Walked into second floor kitchen - found hot chocolate.
Second floor coffee tepid - made sludge with hot chocolate in cup, but did not create drinkable drink.
Dumped out chocolate-and-coffee slop.
Rinsed mug.
Made fresh carafe of coffee on second floor.
Put fresh hot chocolate powder into mug.
Climbed stairs to third floor kitchen.
Coffee pot empty.
Made fresh coffee on third floor.
Waited.
Finally got hot coffee to mix with cocoa powder to create morning mocha.
Realized kitchen held no spoons to stir for optimized mocha-y goodness.
And that's how I ended up stirring my coffee with my Zen Garden rake.
Thursday, February 13, 2014
Winter Skin
I saw the most beautiful sunset last night as I was driving home.
I thought about a time when I was driving with my family to see my grandparents. As we passed through farm town after farm town, I watched the sun sink lower in the sky. When it was just reaching its artistic azimuth, we drove past a horse farm where three dark shadows stood grazing along the edge of the field. The scene so struck me that I was moved to my paint set, and promptly created a hot mess all over my grandmother's kitchen table instead of on the paper.
An artist, I am not.
So I'll just tell you: I saw a beautiful sunset. It looked like a celestial being had dripped pomegranate juice into the western sky, and the color bled through the horizon.
And then I show you:
I'm ready for springtime, and the happier skin it will impart.**1
**1 We're not even going to talk about my poor, cracked, frostbite-blistered toes. They make the mess I made on my grandmother's table look insignificant.
I thought about a time when I was driving with my family to see my grandparents. As we passed through farm town after farm town, I watched the sun sink lower in the sky. When it was just reaching its artistic azimuth, we drove past a horse farm where three dark shadows stood grazing along the edge of the field. The scene so struck me that I was moved to my paint set, and promptly created a hot mess all over my grandmother's kitchen table instead of on the paper.
An artist, I am not.
So I'll just tell you: I saw a beautiful sunset. It looked like a celestial being had dripped pomegranate juice into the western sky, and the color bled through the horizon.
And then I show you:
I'm ready for springtime, and the happier skin it will impart.**1
 |
| Reasons I'm Done With Winter |
**1 We're not even going to talk about my poor, cracked, frostbite-blistered toes. They make the mess I made on my grandmother's table look insignificant.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)