Timing

Phone calls are funny things. They change character depending on when you receive them. For example, any calls during business hours, or during the early evening, are completely normal and fine. Any received between 10 pm and 12 am are a little suspect. Between 12 am and 6 am immediately put you on guard. And between 6 am and 8 am, say 6:45, for example, also fall into the suspect category. Caller ID also changes them. An unknown number in the suspect time periods leads to confusion, as it's perhaps a wrong number. But familiar numbers are different. Say, your parents' number. 6:45 in the morning plus Mom and Dad's number equals Bad News. Equals your mom calling to tell you that your grandfather passed away sometime last night.

Mom says it's a relief, and I suppose it is. He was a shade of the man he was last summer, who in turn was a shade of the man I saw in 2000. Physically, at least. Mom said he hadn't eaten in three days when he had a small heart attack, which was all it took. But he was still witty, and smart, and amazing. His body just couldn't... anymore.

And then I think about timing. Mom said that they'd just gotten word that they had a place in a nursing home, finally. What timing. We're painting our bathroom this weekend in part because I wanted to take pictures of the new window with the new colour around it to send to Mormor and Morfar, since they provided the funds that helped us replace it. I wanted them to see it before... because I knew it wouldn't be long. We put it off too long, maybe, except we really didn't. Again, timing. I am happy at least that they got the picture of Mike and I before...

Mom leaves either today or tomorrow to go to the funeral, and to help get everything settled with my grandmother. And I am disgusted with myself, because I feel, somewhere between hope and fear, that sick, disturbing point right between them, that there may be a second funeral before she returns.

I will try to find some closure. I will try to be glad that he is no longer in pain and suffering the machinations of a failing body. It's just so fresh right now. Despite a continent and an ocean and a language barrier, he was still my grandfather, and I miss him.

The Return of Friday Hair, and Baffling Bathrooms

Some of you may be pleased to know that Friday hair has made a return! Yes, I got out of practice wearing my hair down with moving, a more casual workplace, and winter, but the last two Fridays, I have made an effort to return to the practice of Friday hair. :)

I've mentioned before that I simply don't understand one-ply toilet paper. Could there be anything less efficient? Well, I've discovered something else that just boggles my mind. Stop for a moment, clear your thoughts so you can fully appreciate the uselessness... Wait for it...

Quilted one-ply toilet paper.

...

On the subject of bathrooms, last weekend was a study in oddness, as Mom, Dad, Sheila and Nathan drove up from Calgary, and Mike and I drove down from Edmonton to meet in the middle at a cabin by a pond. The weekend was completely lovely and relaxing, but none of us could quite get over the bathroom. You see, the toilet ran with hot water. And not just hot water, steaming hot water. Again, stop for a moment and think about how that might feel... While the manager's explanation made sense (the septic system ran better with the hot water), it was still... odd.

And more on bathrooms, as tomorrow I got to Home Depot to see if they rent power sanders, as we have to sand our whole upstairs bath before patching, priming, and painting. I've come to the conclusion that the previous owners did a combination of the following three things.

* They didn't even try to match roller texture before painting it the current colour, simply putting a smooth roller texture over a heavy roller texture.
* They patched, but didn't sand (or didn't sand well) before painting.
* They did a mediocre job patching in the first place.

All of this means that, if we want the bathroom to look good when the teal goes up on the walls, there's going to be a lot of dust involved before we can even prime. And since we have friends coming up to help us paint next weekend...

Stay tuned.

H-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t...

I'm wilting. Why don't I have any lighter clothes in my closet that fit and are suitable for work? Why, oh why, does it feel like the building is set up to push all the cold air to the first floor in the hopes of it filtering up to the third, when COLD AIR FALLS AND HOT AIR RISES, PEOPLE!!!!!!!

I'm going shopping this weekend for summer clothes. I don't care how much I must spend, because I can't and won't spend the whole summer working like this...

In other news, we are getting our front door and bathroom window replaced on Friday. Stand by for pictures!

Hey look, we sucked in another... Err... Wait...

I would like to welcome my sister to the wonderful world of Internet blogging! Please, everyone, make her feel right at home. I think virtual cookies are called for. White-chocolate chip from me!

Sunnier!

I just completed my final exam! No more essays hanging over my head! No more feeling guilty about not finding the time to study! At this point, I don't even care if I got a good mark on it!

And in some ways, I feel bad about being so relieved that the course is finished. But I will take this time to recover, and revisit the upgrading and Masters idea. Although it is still something I would like to do, I have been considering the effects it seems to have on my physical health and well-being, and must face the fact that school, any school, compounds my current physical ailments.

On the positive side, my hand hurts less than I expected it would after writing the test. I suppose the taped wrist helped a great deal. On the slightly less positive side, evil, evil stackable chairs do not help a body already in flux due to vehicle accident. Ow...

But I am happier now. Still hurting, still tired, but happier.

Car-ma

Any vehicle accident I have been in involves Edmonton. My first one happened on the way to Edmonton for a tournament. The second was when my car was parked outside K&D's place when I started working up here. The third was driving back to K&D's at night from meeting the fencing bus. And the latest, this past Monday, was on my way to work, where I was the front vehicle in a three-vehicle fender-bender. And while I felt okay that day, I don't feel so good now. And I have to hand-write a three-hour final tomorrow, which with how painful my hands have become, I wasn't looking forward to in the first place. Joyous.

Mom says that I should sell my car and get a new one, because there's obviously some bad karma between my Grand Prix and Edmonton. Alas, 'tis not in the budget right now, as Mike just bought a new car, and we can only afford one car payment at a time. Someday.

In the meantime, I will just try to ignore the growing pain in my shoulder and neck, write my final tomorrow, be miserable all weekend and possibly after, and then try to recover from all the machinations in my life that have conspired to leave me in pain and unable to concentrate for very long, or relax.

I so didn't mean for this to be a depressing post, but I hardly slept at all last night, and I cannot seem to gather enough positive thoughts right now to put down in text. Forgive me; I will try to be sunnier when I post next.

Thoughts on caffeine

In the past year, it's become increasingly obvious that I am no longer a night owl, thought I'm not too much of a morning person either. As a result, if I want to stay up a little later, I usually have a can of Coca Cola. As of this weekend, I wonder if that's such a good idea.

Of the three weekend nights, I had my caffeinated beverage of choice on two of them. Friday night, I drank it around 9 pm. The end result was that when I went to bed around 2:30, I couldn't close my eyes. I felt tired, but... not... Eventually, I managed to get to sleep. Saturday, I declined to drink any caffeine. I barely made it to 10, and that was a major struggle. Sunday, Mike asked me if I wanted a drink, and since it was only late afternoon, I thought I would be safe with another can of Coke. Surely the caffeine would run through my system before bedtime. Alas, I forced myself up the stairs close to midnight, but again, I lay in bed with my eyes open for a good long while.

This leaves me in a delicate position. If I want to stay up later and spend time with Mike, or any friends or family who happen to stop by, I risk staying up far later than I should, because I still wake up between 6 and 7 a.m., regardless of when I fall asleep. Yet, if I don't use caffeine in these situations, I end up sluggish, slurry, and useless company, which negates the entire purpose of socializing.

Is it the type of caffeine? Should I try cups of Earl Grey tea or hot chocolate instead? Those are probably better for my body than the carbonated caffeinated wonder I've been drinking. I expect this will have to be an ongoing experiment. I will keep you informed.

I plan tomorrow to go get two or three otocinclus for the fishtank, as we finally have enough algae to support them. I wish we could throw them in with the two bettas, because a full clean on their tanks to remove the bright green growth is becoming a weekly thing, but alas, no. I worry for Stripes; she hasn't moved much in about a week, though she is still alive. We also discovered a minor miracle on Mike's birthday; a baby sunset platy. We think that it was eaten shortly after discovery, because only Dad and Mike saw it. It was gone by the time Mom and I came home, though they did manage to get one picture of it, which I will post sometime. Dad thinks we should go get a male platy as well, so we won't have to wonder about immaculate conceptions or the gestation period of a platy any more.