September 10
From my brain
Contents |
2009
Me 18:09, 10 September 2009 (EDT)
Tonight begins my night of hell. The "Bradford Bash" is an apparently annual event where the school has fun, food, and games for all the students across all the programs (ours, vet tech, administrative assistant, programming, etc.). Originally, Wifey was going to get a table for Tastefully Simple, but after I took some bread in to my admissions rep, she and the other ladies in the office talked me into making bread for this thing.
I did the math. I wanted to make enough to sell out, but not sell out too early. I finally decided on two dozen loaves of bread. Beginning around 5pm, I could mix, rise, and bake all two dozen loaves...by around 4am. I started a half hour late.
Two batches of bread are rising. The first of them is due to be stretched and folded in 15 minutes. This is going to be a long night. This blog (and Facebook) will be keeping me company I think.
Stay tuned?
Me 19:52, 10 September 2009 (EDT)
The four batches of dough rising now make me feel like a plate spinner. I'm going to lose my mind.
Oh wait, taking this on was the first sign I didn't have one left!
Me 21:21, 10 September 2009 (EDT)
All six batches of the basic Italian bread are in some stage of rising. In 10 minutes, I start mixing "batch" seven which is the first two loaves of Olive Oil bread.
Me 22:49, 10 September 2009 (EDT)
First loaves are out!
2008
Me 16:07, 10 September 2008 (EDT)
I'm just now -- for the last two days -- at a point where there isn't a crisis. I keep floating back and forth between three different email accounts and there's...nothing there. I check the guild forums...and it's empty no zomg posts. Work has actually been productive. Last night's den meeting was awesome. Popcorn is ordered, I just have to plan the kick-off for Friday.
Operating at a high level for so long I just don't have a concept of what normalcy is or how to deal when things aren't at critical mass. Something has to be wrong or I almost don't know how to function. I don't like this feeling. Jittery, anxious, and almost full-on adrenal flight-or-fight mode.
The only thing to be said from it all is that those around me are all keeping me standing.
Wifey and I talk about what's bothering us much better than we ever have. Sure, every couple have their arguments; I'd be lying to say we don't fight. The old-school blow-ups of a year or two ago just don't happen like they used to though, and I think even the kids pick up on that.
The officers in the guild operate as a unit in ways I can't even put to words. Some who's voices were barely audible in the group have all of a sudden stepped forward and have really surprised me. Others who I knew had it in them are shining like never before. Some have their doubts, and we're both working on that, but we're only getting closer as a team.
Scouts is going along well. Popcorn season is gonna be hair-raising (or pulling), but I think I'll survive. With a smaller den, we can be more focused instead of the chaos we encountered before.
And work? Eh, ThePit is ThePit. Will it improve? I don't know. I'm working on my confidence here, and it's coming along bit by bit. I mean, I know my shit (and others know I do too), and yet I just sit here like a monkey all day for the last year. I need to start "excelling" again and proving it. Maybe then I can get somewhere.
I'm by no means calm and rational.
I'm getting there though.
Me 06:59, 11 September 2008 (EDT)
I wanted to post this today, but it's 9/11 and it was just inappropriate to grace that page so I'll put it with yesterday as it is much more fitting.
- There are new words now that excuse everybody. Give me the good old days of heroes and villains. the people you can bravo or hiss. There was a truth to them that all the slick credulity of today cannot touch.
- - Bette Davis
It's all the backstory that people are missing. It's all the sniping, it's all the insider trading, it's all the too-close for comfort conversations that people just don't see, don't know about, and would frankly be shocked to hear. I want to sit down and say, "OK, this is how it is people. Here is what she said, here is who she said it about, and here is how she said it. Now do you get why I was so outrageously pissed off?"
Just because some guy in town has a handlebar mustache, trench coat, black boots, doesn't mean he's tied a pretty girl to the tracks. There is a good chance she's made it look like that just to get rescued by the handsome hero.
I'm just getting tired of the vilification. Because I'm taking the highroad -- and the rest of my officers are too -- it just keeps continuing.
2007
Me 12:03, 10 September 2007 (EDT)
I felt fine when I woke up yesterday. A little groggy from guild night, but otherwise it was a normal Sunday morning. Wifey didn't have to yell at me any more than usual to get moving, and also as per usual, the time we ended up leaving didn't make us really late for church.
Liturgy was fine, but by half way through coffee hour afterward, I had this weird sharp pain on my right abdomen right under my ribs. I had eaten a little, was still hungry, but what I really wanted to do was go home and lay down. I was so very tired. I even fell asleep at some point in the car ride, dimly aware of Wifey telling TheBoy, "Shhh...Daddy is sleeping."
I laid down around 3:30. I woke up a couple times in between, but by the end, didn't wake up until after 6:30. In between there, my stomach rumbled a good bit, but the pain was still there.
I had some dinner, watched some TV with the kids (wincing in pain every now and then as I played with them), and then put them to bed (a twinge late, but they were damn cute dancing to Hanna Montana and High School Musical songs). Later, Wifey and I watched 4400], and then I was out again at 10:30. Knowing how I was feeling, I called in sick ahead of time before I turned out the lights.
I heard everyone get up this morning, but I didn't wake up officially until after 10am. I was completely unmotivated to move until almost 11:30 (having watched an episode of both Doctor Who and Torchwood). I put on my medicine and came down here to scrawl all of this out.
I still don't know for sure what happened. Wifey mentioned that she had tried to have some of the leftover chili from earlier in the week for dinner, and while it smelled OK on Saturday, it did not Sunday. We had used some of it in breakfast burritos I had made Saturday morning, so it could just be nearly-off kidney beans wrecking havoc in my system...but why didn't affect Miss Dainty Stomach?
Regardless, my head is still a little fuzzy. Gonna play some WoW for a bit and let Callistana and Yeshe know I'm alive. :)
2004
Me 10:59, 10, September 2004 (EDT)
Sad news on our return.
I could go into how we spent nearly for days in the cloud-filled, sunless skies of ridge-runner country, but that would pale in comparison to tonight's news.
We lost a close friend tonight. The boy was closer to him than any of us, but he was practically a member of the family. All of us share in his grief, but the Boy will miss him most. While at the rest stop just south of Warren, OH, on I71 north, the Boy set down his beloved Pooh "Poohlow" Pillow.
No one else noticed this, but instead chased after the energy filled 3 1/2 year old. We then piled back into the van (stopping to dress the kids for bedtime) and made the rest of our journey home. It was only reaching home that we realized when and where someone had been misplaced.
We had JUST gotten the Boy perked up about "being home!" and that everything was just like before, and sleeping in your own bed. He seemed fine at first. But after a few minutes...
- "Daddy, I miss Pooh."
- "I know buddy, we'll get him back soon. Sleep with Tigger tonight. He'll keep you company."
- <sniffle> "Tigger's not the same, I want Pooh!" <sobbing>
Waiter! Yes, can I have an extra steak knife? I need to carve my heart out of my chest.
We then started trying to make some calls - 10 PM as it was - and Wifey got down to the state police. After explaining the situation, the soft-hearted dispatcher said he would have a car sent out.
The caretaker of the rest area was questioned, and Poohlow HAD been sighted, but alas, he was no longer there. Apparently they would check the dumpsters, but hopes are NOT good.
So, tomorrow, my Mom (Granny) will begin the frantic search across Columbus to find a replacement for Beloved Poolow. Hopes are not high. The best I have found is an eBay add for the pillow, but the action's not up for 3 days, and I can't spend that may nights comforting him without a replacement.
