Monday, April 30, 2012


StressLast week, my productivity was massively hampered by stress over everything that was supposed to happen this week.

Last Monday, my schedule for this week looked like this:
Tuesday - doctor's appointment to schedule toe surgery for the same week, so Wednesday, Thursday, who knows?
Friday - drive to Way The Hell Upstate* to meet our future kid.**

* This is not as far from our home as Way The Fuck Upstate, but it's close.

**That on its own is enough to drive a normal person to distraction, so you can imagine what it did to a high-strung individual such as myself. You know those first dates where you build the whole thing up in your mind and decide that it's a momentous occasion, and you might actually be meeting your future spouse? It's like that, except that it's not all in your head.

And as last week began, our shower lost water pressure, but just with the hot water, so I had to call the building management company on top of going to the last of the pre-op doctor's appointments. And I was trying to schedule either the surgery or the meeting the kid for that week, so that I wouldn't be doing them both during the same week. Mostly because I'll have to elevate my foot post-op, and the drive to Way The Hell Upstate is 2.5 hours each way, during which foot elevation is impractical.

The stress finally came to a head when the management company called the plumber, then called me back to say that he thought it was just the shower head, so it was the super's responsibility.
  1. I know enough about plumbing to know that it wasn't the shower head.
  2. The super has a day job, so tracking him down and getting him to come and deal with stuff takes a few days that I just didn't feel like wasting.
I wasn't rude or obnoxious, but, yeah, I yelled and freaked out at the poor woman on the phone. Part of the problem is that all communication with the plumber, etc. is done through the women in the office, who know absolutely nothing about home repair, so can't possibly be communicating with them properly.

So it became clear that I wouldn't be able to do the surgery any sooner, but we were able to move up the meeting with the kid. (So, yeah, that's happened already. That gets it's own post later this week.) When the plumber came, he did what he could, but he's going to have to replace the entire thing. Which means that the porter (who is like a super, except that he's around all day and does different tasks) will be coming to break the tile in my shower so the plumber can get to the pipes to replace the whole setup. And then fix the tile when he's done.

When I called the doctor to get an idea of what day next week the surgery would be, so I could schedule the plumber, I found out that we'd actually be doing the surgery the week after.

So now next week's schedule looks like this:
Monday - call a driving school and schedule a lesson so I can relearn to drive this week. I have a valid license, but haven't driven in years and want to regain my sea legs with a calm instructor in a car with a second brake. I need to get back in the saddle so that His Awesomeness is no longer stuck with all the driving to Way The Hell Upstate, especially since we're going to try to go every weekend.
Tuesday - doctor's appointment to schedule surgery
Thursday - tile demolition/plumbing combo. Plans include dragging my ass down to the bathroom in the laundry room all day and not being able to leave the apartment except for bathroom breaks because guys are doing stuff.
Friday - chiropractor visit, then lunch with a friend, which means I really need to go out, so if the tile isn't fixed, I'm giving my keys to the porter and leaving anyway.
Saturday - bridal shower (a cousin--the wedding this summer is going to be upstate and will be THE social event of the season, a family reunion, and a mini vacation all rolled into one.)
Sunday - debut my newly-regained driving skills to go Way The Hell Upstate to visit with the kid.

Hopefully, I'll be able to face this week with less rocking back and forth in a fetal position than I exhibited last week. A gal's gotta dream.

Monday, April 16, 2012

Who's Afraid of a Little Failure?

failureOy, what a week. I caught a cold. Then developed a 3-day migraine that still has only one foot out the door. And during all this, I had a freelance copywriting gig that had to be finished last night.

Fortunately, I was able to work on the couch, thanks to my netbook, because sitting up in a chair was just way too much effort.

I've been getting some actual, real, not filling the internet with poorly-written content, decent-paying writing work through a couple of website for the past month or so. The first really fun gig I got was for something that I didn't think I had a chance of getting. I read the job posting and thought, "I'll never get that. I've never done that specific type of writing before." But it turns out that they were looking for a sarcastic wiseass, hired me, and loved what I wrote for them.


Which got me thinking about how I have some friends who are so afraid of rejection that they won't even try. Whether it's job applications or sending out their writing, they'd rather not try than get a no. But if you don't try, you can't get a yes either.

In college, I auditioned for almost every play and musical that came along. Despite stage fright that strangled my vocal chords and temporarily destroyed my singing ability during auditions. I don't know what I thought I was going to do if I actually got into a show. I did get cast as a witch in Macbeth, thanks to my superior cackling skills. But the rest of the time, I auditioned, didn't get cast, then helped build the set, or whatever.

For the few shows that I didn't audition for, I'd sit in the audience and think that I could've been in the show if only I'd tried. Even though prior experience showed that I probably wouldn't have gotten cast in that show either.

[Transition that makes sense in my brain and probably nowhere else.]

In junior high, I was on the math team, because I was just that cool. Our teacher/coach recruited this girl Effie (not her name), but when the after school tournament started, she went home instead of sticking around for the tournament (aka, the big exciting 5 word problems). We grabbed a smart person who was still around and carried on. 

Then a few weeks or months later, as we were applying for high schools, one high school was offering a math scholarship, based on the results of a test. Effie signed up. I was too shy to raise my hand, but later told the teacher that I wanted to take it. On the day that we all had to travel to the high school to take the test, Effie backed out, telling people that since I was taking it, she didn't have a chance, so why bother. 

Now, I knew from math team that someone from the next school over was likely to win the scholarship. They placed first at every competition. But that didn't mean I wasn't going to try anyway.

That's when I figured out why Effie bailed on joining the math team. Either she didn't know or care that our scores were considered as a team, not individually. She saw that I was on the team, decided that she wouldn't beat me (which she might have) and gave up.

Which is pretty lame, since for all we know, she could've been better at math than I was.

Fear of failure? Not me. I've got much practice at that I am AWESOME at failing. Now success, that blows my mind. 

What about you?

Friday, April 6, 2012


I've had upstairs neighbors before. I've even learned to tune it out when the woman upstairs walked around in high-heeled boots. Of course, we were across the street from an elevated subway station, so I was ignoring much louder sounds than shoes.

But this guy upstairs from me now...I just don't know. Maybe the noises keep getting my attention because I can't figure out what the hell they could possibly be. And since he & I both work at home, they happen at all hours of the day. And night. Seriously, man, what the fuck are you doing at 11 o'clock at night that causes that much noise but is clearly not romantic in nature?

Things that my upstairs neighbor could be doing to make all that noise

  • Twister.
  • Drunken Twister.
  • Naked drunken Twister.
  • Elephant bowling in which one rolls baby elephants at the pins.
  • Elephant bowling in which the elephants are rolling bowling balls at pins.
  • Rhinoceros hopscotch.
  • Training for the strongman competition where they race while moving giant tires by flipping them over.
  • Inventing a new sport in which competitors push a full clothes dresser across the room repeatedly.
  • Randomly dropping stuff because it's fun.
  • Dropping stuff because putting things down carefully is for losers.
  • Watching movies very loudly on surround sound in the middle of the day to drown out his ennui.
  • Modifying his cell phone so that he can hear it vibrating from 3 blocks away. (Seriously, when his phone is on vibrate, it sounds like a phone in my apartment is vibrating.)