livingdeb | Entries tagged with mood

My net worth went up again this month because everything went up except my vacation cash-out value. Yea!

I totally played hookie last night, not going to intermediate ballroom dance class. I was feeling exhausted (though I suspect that was more psychological than physical), grumpy, brainless, and unmotivated. So I just didn't go. I rested for a while. I played. I was productive. I went to bed early. Then this morning I was feeling good (happy and optimistic) right up until 11:00 am, in spite of everything. It was nice. By noon I had a headache.

I took ibuprofin and then decided to go on a little adventure. Mostly because I didn't think to bring a map with me, or a bus schedule, or the address of the place I was going to visit. So it was sort of like a walkabout, only with a goal and a time limit.

I decided to visit my broker (hee, hee, don't I sound so rich?) in person. By which I mean that I decided to visit the office of my discount brokerage instead of calling on the phone.

My first goal was to get on the first bus that came heading downtown. This bus turned out to be the 1M, which went just about directly from my office to the broker.

My second goal was to find the office. I knew it was 5-something S. Congress, thus between 5th and 6th streets. I also remembered incorrectly that the name was on the outside of the building. No, it's just a giant Bank of America building. Then I remembered it was some sort of suite. Suite 300? I jumped on the elevator.

However the elevator did not let people off at the third floor; it just skipped a bunch of the bottom floors. So I got off at the tenth floor and rode back down.

Then I found the elevator for floors one through nine and parking. It turns out that floors one through nine are parking. So I rode back down and wandered around the first floor.

And what do you know, there was Scottrade right there in Suite 130.

I asked about rolling my ERS (state pension plan from my last job) into an IRA account. I knew that I had to get their paperwork first, then contact the ERS folks. And I knew I had to roll the money into a regular IRA, but that I can then later convert it to a Roth IRA if I want to, which I do.

What I didn't know is how they keep the money separate from your non IRA money, say, after you've sold something and before you've bought something else. The answer is that you open a whole separate account, with a different account number and everything, as if you have multiple personalities. But then later you can link the two accounts so you can see them online at the same time.

My next plan was to catch the first bus I saw that was heading anywhere near campus. I jumped on my old friend, the 1M.

I heard two people asking embarrassing questions. First, at one stop, someone asked the driver if the bus went to the airport. (No, and it was going the opposite direction also.) Then he asked which bus did go to the airport, and then he asked where to catch that bus. I expect a driver to be an expert on his own route, but every route in the city? And all that personal service while sitting at a bus stop? Yeesh.

The second one was a guy who was riding on the bus already and pulled out his ear phones and asked me if there was a certain brand of check-cashing company on Guadalupe Street. I said I didn't know. Another guy talked to him for a while and they worked it out that he could cash his check for a free at a bank on Guadalupe which is the bank the check is from. So it was good he asked, but what kind of person gets on a bus and then starts asking about whether it was a good idea to get on the bus?

The bus I had caught would get me back to work in plenty of time but with virtually no exercise at all, so I got off early.

This gave me a chance to get a look at the old Arby's which had then turned into a Sonic, but which is now for rent, and also being used for parking ($5 per day). I also peered into a TCBY without going in. It seems like they have frozen yogurt that looks like ice cream, not just the soft-serve kind. I'll have to go in there sometime when I don't have ice cream sandwiches in the freezer.

On the way to work I saw a homeless (I think) lady yelling and screaming and swearing in disgust. To no one at all. She would get so worked up that she would stop walking so she could gesticulate more fully. Then she would get quiet and start walking again, only to get all worked up again. I wondered what could make a person so angry and frustrated? Then I thought to myself that the mass transit system can make me feel the exact same way. "You stupid, idiot bus! Why don't you ever come? Any time now would be good." And of course no one is there when I'm feeling this way!

I was somewhat refreshed when I got back to work, but was not quite at the fabulous level I had been at in the morning when I was actually calming other people down. Everyone I work with was stressed this week, and all over different problems.

This weekend Robin and I are visiting an old friend of his in the Dallas area. I'm bringing my computer, but I have no idea if I'll use it. We won't be leaving to come back until Tuesday morning. I may go to work a half a day on Tuesday. So expect nothing until Tuesday evening.

Disturbing song, disturbing book, and now a disturbing movie. "The Machinist" is a difficult-to-watch movie in a Dostoevsky kind of way. It's good, it makes sense in the end, but meanwhile, ugh.

And now it's bedtime. Let's see if I can have some more good nightmares. (I had only mild ones last night which I no longer remember.)

It took me a while to get there because I had to take a bus home from work and then drive there. So that took 90 minutes.

But she wasn't there yet. So I stood in the doorway for a while enjoying the shade and the breeze.

Then I walked up to one end of the street, back down to the other end of the street, and back to the house, looking at everyone's gardens. It was not a particularly creatively gardened part of the world. But I did see a couple of shapely pots on their sides, and a mixed mass of plants all trimmed to spheres.

Then I enjoyed the breeze some more.

Then I read the flyer for a nearby house for sale. The price is down to about $150,000 for a 2,000-square foot home with two living areas, a formal dining room, and a dinette on a corner lot with a large fenced backyard with a playscape and two porches. I could see the front porch; it was almost like a front step. And some bedrooms, of course, including a huge master bedroom.

Then the neighborhood yippie dog ran up to me. "My street! My sidewalk! My house!" I went back to the driveway I was waiting at. The dog followed. "My driveway!"

You do not own the entire known universe, little yippie one. Get over it.

I started pacing in a nice, predictable way. Eventually the yippie one got distracted by a little kid. He quit barking and observed. Then he became interested in a smell on the concrete. Then an interesting taste on the driveway--don't ask me, I don't know. Then plants.

Finally someone called him in. He looked when she first called, ignored the boy when he called, and then came the second time the woman called. He was wagging his little tail like crazy looking all cute.

Then I tried to think of any place interesting nearby I could go to for a while. I really didn't want to go shopping. I didn't feel like getting gas though I was down to half a tank. But then I got to stop waiting.

**

This one tool at works make no sense to me. It can see a deficiency, but can't see how big it is. So we just guess that it's small? And sometimes we have the same rule twice? And when only the first one was waived, the second rule also quit showing any problems? I finally emailed the users and asked them how they used this tool and what advice they would share.

I waited five hours before going home but got no answers.

**

I got tired of waiting for an answer to another question I had asked two weeks ago, so I sent another e-mail saying which of the two assumptions I was going with. I just about finished re-working the documentation to go with this assumption when finally someone told me I had picked the wrong one. So then I re-worked the documentation again.

You know, I like writing and explaining things, but only if I can understand them myself at some point before I'm done. Which is why I never sought a job in technical writing. I'd heard that the engineers are too busy finishing the item to tell you how it works, and by the time a working version is ready for your experimentation, your how-to booklet is already overdue. Well, at least I can experiment on my product, but I still don't like this. It's not motivating. And there was a a welcoming breakfast for our new Registrar this morning, so I got to eat continuously all day! Donuts! Yogurt! Sweet rolls! Muffins! Mmm.

**

I found and started reading June Carter Cash's autobiography, but so far she writes a little poetically and depressingly for my tastes. When I can figure out what's going on, it's just sad. I'm still waiting for the good parts.

The article Move Over, McMansions describes "microhouses" as "typically, houses spanning from a few hundred to a little more than a thousand square feet" and as "[r]anging between a mere 64 square feet to just over 1,200."

(In contrast, the average (American) house today has 2,400 square feet.)

Since my house has 960 square feet, I live in a (rather large) microhouse.

The article states that most people buying these exciting new kinds of houses are buying them as vacation homes or art studios or, if they are hippie freaks trying to reduce their footprint on the earth, as their only homes.

So, this implies that I am either some kind of freak or possibly some kind of person who is so hip with this new concept that I am already living it. I'm so not. I'm a little hippie-ish, but not very good at it.

I think I'm just hippie-ish enough to be offended. I think if the definition applied to houses of 64 to 400 square feet, I wouldn't be offended. But 800 to 1000 square feet is perfectly reasonable, especially for a single person or couple.

Since I even enjoyed living in a dorm room, I must be some kind of extremely bizarre type of person.

And what about these folks in Hong Kong who live in apartments that are 100 square feet? (That site is nothing but one picture of each person (or couple) in the room, apparently given no time to prepare for the shoot.) Most of these people seem to be having a hard time fitting everything into their space, but check out the guy pictured in #93! What minimalist living!

I uploaded three training modules in time for tomorrow's meeting. I have only four rule types done so far (out of 28), but I think I'll be able to get the rest up in a timely fashion. (By which I mean this summer, or maybe even in the next month, but definitely this year.) It feels so good.

It occurred to me that if I get a large portion of the training I want online, some of the other jobs duties won't seem so much like irritating distractions and will be a little more fun. That would be nice, too. (Don't worry, I'm still job hunting, but it's nice to not have to accept anything unless it's totally awesome.)

Broken thing of the day: The error message on one command quits showing the student number and starts showing part of the SSN. (Reported.)

Other broken thing: Every time I try to add a student's test records to the test database, an error occurs that is not my fault. (Fixed already!)

One great thing about vacations is that when you get home there's a contrast between what you've become used to and what you were used to before, and certain things stand out.

One thing that stands out is that my job is stressful and that I enjoy dealing with this stress by eating continuously.

This probably means I should supply myself with foods that have a very high volume-to-calorie ratio. Like water. A little more crunch would be nice. Crushed ice, then. No, I don't think that would do it. Celery is exceptional in this regard. Unfortunately, it tastes disgusting to me.

Robin suggested that I get some kind of stress squish toy. And dress it up like my boss. Unfortunately, I find that letting loose with the physical, while great for getting some exercise, is not helpful in reducing my stress. In fact, I think it just gives it more power.

Another solution is to take breaks. I actually did storm out of the office at one point so I could get some serious cussing in where no one had to listen to me. But breaks have never really helped me. I hear that they allow you to return refreshed and energized, but this is not true for me. Sure, taking a break is great during the break. I am one of those people who can really take breaks and clear my mind of whatever. I really do leave work at work when I come home virtually all the time, for example. But then after the break, it's just as bad as before. I feel the same way while playing ultimate frisbee: I certainly feel less dead while taking a break than while playing, but the second I'm back in I feel dead again.

Another solution that works for me is to web surf. But I've been warned that they're doing computer spying at work now, so you have to be careful with that sort of thing.

Another solution is to get a better job, which I am working on. But all jobs have some forms of stress. It would be good to figure out a better way of dealing with it.

Meanwhile, there was ice cream at work today. I had four bowls of it. In addition to my morning snack of an energy bar and my afternoon snack of a too-large handful of nuts and of course my lunch. I consider that ice cream to be a perk of my job. But, you know, my extra chin is harder to see as a perk.

And what, specifically, made me want to cuss? It was recommended that in my online training documentation I define "simple." Um, isn't "simple" that thing that you don't have to define because it's just exactly what you expect? I do later say that you can't use complex forms, and the word "complex" is linked to a glossary entry which spells out exactly what elements are considered complex in this context. And I have an entire training module on complex rule types earlier on in the training. "But what if a person just goes right to this page without having read that?" Well, then they'll be clicking on some of the links I described. I'm sorry, no, I am not defining "simple."

Also, when I say that the thing I'm talking about can be contrasted to another thing and the name of that other thing is a link to a similar document for that other thing, and that other document has examples, then I am not putting any examples at all of that other thing in the document about the first thing. Jeez. How huge do they want these documents? They are already bloated to over four times their original size. I really only want to say everything once if possible. And it's still crazy and overwhelming.

And speaking of eating continuously, someone recently introduced me to the blog called hello I am fat. It's "one of those weight-loss blogs," not generally my favorite topic, but I love her voice. Here are some quotes I've enjoyed.

From last June 22:

Work is so easy. Eating at work, I mean. Because I can't sit at my desk and eat a ham, and since I work at a public service desk, I can't disappear into the break room and eat a Christmas turkey every ten minutes, and the food on campus sucks and the vending machine is almost always broken, if I simply remember to plan ahead, with my baggies of cereal and the lean cuisines and the yogurts and the fruit, I am golden all day. A beautiful golden god.

Home is less easy, even though I have learned the most important lesson about stocking your house with groceries, which is Do Not Leave a Bucket of Fried Chicken Or A Cake In Your House lesson. If you have the stuff within reach, look there you go! Reaching for it!

From last September 20:

Now here I am, the heavier than the heaviest ever (I think I prefer "heavy" to "fat." Heavy makes me sound like I am substantial and important. Fat makes me sound – well, you know. Fat. "But wait a second!" you say, and then I punch you. But not really, because I love you.), and getting on the scale this morning, after a week of back on weightwatchers, complete with an extra point because of my extra ass, I realized that all I want is to be back under my previous record for land mass. I want to be the previous heaviest ever again, because this weight I am now, it is unsupportable. It is insupportable. It sucks.

Site of the Day: hello I am fat's Retail Therapy (Warning: cuss words) - "I thought about it and it resonated with me, and I thought, fucking hell. I can't do this any more – squeezing into things and feeling ugly and uncomfortable and stupid. I can't sit around waiting to feel good, because that's just going to drive me to drink. More." This one is fabulously uplifting, and she gives you the secret, too.

I think I'm finally burnt out on the cool small spaces contest.

My first clue is that I started peaking ahead at the pictures without spending any quality time with them, except for two. One had a bathroom with tiling from the same period as that in my bathroom. The other just looked like a regular house. The furniture reminded me of my best friend from high school's parents' house, which is where I was much of the time during my high school years, and which consequently feels comfortable to me. It also has wallpaper borders that remind me of how a house was decorated when an old roommate of mine first bought it.

I knew this place was going to get low votes because it looked too ordinary. And on looking more closely, I could see that there was still a lot of room for improvement in the design, even if you loved this person's taste in decor. There were a lot of things stored in stacks and piles. You could see some areas where the owner forgot to dust. A lampshade could use some straightening.

But the commenters were vicious. What's the worst thing you could imagine saying? "Your place is ugly"? "You have no taste"? No, they did worse than that. They convinced themselves that it was a joke entry and then fell over themselves pointing out evidence.

So then I started feeling defensive. Someone said it looked like the house of old people. Like old people can't have good design? (As a prospective old person, I am insulted.) You have to be young, hip, and urban? Then I realized that this contest is, after all, about apartments. Not mobile homes or travel trailers or boats, which are other hard-to-live-in small spaces.

I also felt defensive about the owner's design hint: sometimes you can store things right out in the open. Her example didn't sound so great. But even some popular entries show expensive pans hanging right out in the open. And tea kettles.

I also felt defensive about "taste." Apparently old things from the fifties are good, but old things from the eighties are bad, no matter how they are arranged.

And your place pretty much has to be bare to get any respect. One of those country places with little knickknacks and doilies (allowable only under cactus, for the irony) and pictures of family members everywhere would get a big thumbs down.

It doesn't matter that she can have lots of folks over sitting in comfy seating. What matters is that her place does not look like art. If your furniture looks too much like furniture and not enough like sculpture, then you're not a good designer.

Some of the comments kept echoing in my head while I was trying to go to sleep last night. "...inch of dust..." "If it's a joke, I doubt she was in on it." (Implying that not only is her taste in decor terrible, so is her taste in "friends.") These comments left a bad taste in my mouth about the whole site.

Part of my defensiveness probably stems from suspecting that I am also perceived as a joke sometimes. I don't share this owner's aesthetic tastes, except in her kitchen, but I'm sure I have some other kinds of laughable tastes. I'm too uncool even to know. I mean, I'd never have guessed that dumpster-diving (okay, not quite, but finding things on the street) is cool. I don't care about being laughable except that when people see you as a joke, they blind themselves to your other, probably more relevant, traits. I have enough substantial reasons to turn away prospective friends and employers; I don't need to add useless stuff!

As I re-read the comments on this entry, I realize that I blew up their nasty nature in my mind even beyond what was already there. And I see that even with the young, hip, urban, snooty, insider bias of this site, there are plenty of good ideas here: getting rid of stuff you don't use, seeking ways to hide ugly stuff, getting pretty versions of things you aren't hiding, and arranging your things in ways that are aesthetically pleasing can help your place feel more pleasant and relaxing.

Also, since I have the same bias for fifties stuff over eighties stuff, there should even be lots of ideas relevant to me, right? Also that page had a link to today's:

Journal entry of the day: Jalpuna's How Did Thou Pow a Brown Cow?, a funny first-date story. "Who's family is nuttier? The game goes like this: You tell me that your mom is addicted to Prozac, I say that some uncle I'd never met tried to kidnap me on the day of my father's funeral when I was 11. Your turn! Ahh, silence."

So I saw the most unexpected wall covering in an entry in the cool tiny apartment contest.

You know how when you rent you're not allowed to mess with the walls? So I've heard of people putting nails in the walls and then refilling the holes when they leave. And I've heard of stapling or starching fabric to the walls so that it can be removed. But I've never heard of using shingling a wall with post-it notes. They just layered plain yellow post-it notes from the bottom. They say they stay up very well and are easy to lightly dust.

Or you could make a post-it note mosaic by using many colors of post-it notes.

In other news, I felt like a zombie at work. The work verb of the day was "slogging." It was a particularly sharp version of the mind-numbing repetition of ickiness that is so common at my job. Plus a nice, solvable problem. And a compliment: "I complimented Person A on this idea, and she said it was yours." And birthday cake, birthday bagels, and birthday brownies from a co-worker's celebration. Mostly it was just the slogging, though.

This morning I did 90 minutes of gardening. Very productive.

1) I weeded the rose area. I recently cleaned out this area, but already millions of tiny weeds were growing there. Still easy to pull out. I also did some final pruning on the roses. A small pink rose was blooming.

2) At this time of year, the beggar's lice is coming in. This is a beautiful feathery plant with lots of lovely white flowers that turn into billions of tiny burs. I got rid of all I could find in the side yard and front yard.

3) A few specimens of a bright green extremely sticky weed that also like to take over each spring were starting to pop up; I cleared those from the same area.

4) I got rid of the bad kind of dandelion. There appear to be two kinds of dandelions growing in my yard. One appears to have adapted to lawnmowers. It flowers very low to the ground, then it grows to a foot tall just when it gets to the wispy white seeding stage. The flowers are a nice bright yellow, and the leaves are relatively smooth. I love this plucky plant and have decided to let it stay.

The other kind is a tall flower with large, prickly leaves. I've decided I don't want to let that one seed. It's not easy to yank out of the ground, so I ended up just breaking most of them off near the ground. We'll see if that works.

5) I pulled up the two giant (8-foot tall?) sunflower stalks from last year and laid them out next to backyard fence, where I hope the seeds will plant themselves. I think they would grow well and look good there.

6) I transplanted two plants that look like new sunflowers of this same kind from my flower box, where they appeared and where there is no room to get as tall as they do to more appropriate parts of the yard. Last time I tried this, they just shriveled up and died, but this time I got them while they were still young, so maybe that will work.

7) I discovered that the really pretty clover with the pretty bright yellow flowers is the same plant that makes the hard brown burs. I didn't have the heart to yank out very many of these. Plus they're not easy to get out.

8) Attempted and failed to dig out a young tree growing in my flower box. Will just have to cut it off below the soil level and hope that works.

9) Planted the six-pack of begonias I bought last week in the planter. Yea! One fun thing.

Right now the day flowers(?) are blooming. These are plants that grow one or two feet high and then put out several blossoms that are about an inch in diameter. Mine are either purple or magenta. Some people think they are weeds, probably because they grow taller than grass. And some people think they are nice native wildflowers. I'm going with the wildflower theory. They even transplant well. I've actually got a bunch around my backyard pond now and a bunch next to the driveway.

Then I went with my sister and a couple of her friends to scout out possible locations for her wedding and reception. Two are adjacent state parks in Bastrop in the area known as the "Lost Pines." This means that even though most of the piney woods in our state are along the east coast, there is this one little island of them easy driving distance (45 minutes?) from town. I love the smell of pine needles.

I took some pictures and learned to get them onto my computer and started learning how to work with iPhoto. Finally. Next, I need to learn how to upload them to the internet, probably onto Flickr. (The three people I know of who put photos online all use Flickr.)

Mostly I've just been sitting. The backs of my legs are telling me they're going to ache tomorrow from all the weeding. I didn't do laundry or cook or go grocery shopping or go to thrift stores (I need pants!). I sure didn't go dancing! I watched a movie. And I found the site below, which could probably keep me entertained for a full month of all-day exercise-free fun!

Web site of the day: the second annual smallest, coolest apartment contest 2006 by apartment therapy. A bunch of people with small apartments have submitted entries showing how they have used good design to make their tiny spaces livable. Even if you don't care about small spaces and exciting storage solutions, if you like to see pretty colored walls and interesting furniture, you might like this site.

I must be feeling snarky today because, besides having real trouble with that job application, I'm also having trouble helping with the brainstorming that is going on in my office about how to improve our service to the students. Here are my ideas:

"Hire a Registrar already. Our last Registrar gave you over six months notice, and he's been gone for months now. Just get on the ball, people."

"My area already has systems in place for assessing the level of our service to students. And based on these continual assessments, we already gave you a big list of things that need to be done. We are adding to the list on a regular basis. Why don't you actually aim some of our resources at these items instead of, say, remodeling or removing SSNs from the inner depths of the system or letting our SIS people work in entirely different departments or taking systems that we have right now and putting them online in exactly the same way with no improvements and then switching people to new projects before all the bugs are worked out?"

"Quit having meetings about improving things and developing philosophies about improving things and designing surveys about improving things and start improving things."

I've mostly been successful in keeping my mouth shut when I have nothing productive to add. But I'm feeling a bit disgruntled.

Although under the topic "focus on an enhanced campus-wide culture of wellness," I did mention that we should remove dangers (we had a large decorative board that fell off the wall and could have landed on someone). And give shoulder massages to people waiting in line.

I just applied for a job, which I can't link to, so I'll just paste all the information, poorly formatted, behind an LJ-cut. ( Read more... )

I don't actually think I'll even get an interview, but what if I'm wrong? So I'm applying just in case, and for practice.

The title is "Electronic Media Coordinator," and it's to help develop online courses for UT campuses across the state. This is not the same job I already knew about from my campus and requires totally different skills which I also don't have (Dreamweaver, PhotoShop, Illustrator, and Flash). However, they don't actually require those skills to apply for the job; they just say I will be using them extensively.

I think Dreamweaver will be easy since I'm fluent with html. I've had some exposure to PhotoShop and Illustrator and have really good reference materials and an expert roommate on Photoshop. Flash I've seen on screen once and it looks tedious, but hey, my whole current job is tedious. Also, I have a friend who is a rabid fan of flash who could probably help me.

They also want a year of experience which I don't have. And so this is where my extra education comes in handy, because an "Equivalent combination of relevant education and experience may be substituted as appropriate."

So, I'm applying because it sounds almost just exactly perfect. The only problem, aside from having no qualifications, is the cover letter. For a person who enjoys writing nonfiction and who has been writing about myself daily, you would think this would be no problem. Wrong, wrong, wrong. Here is what not to put in a cover letter:

"I don't actually have any experience doing any of these things, but I do have a lot of experience doing other things that are very closely related. Really! I swear!" Whimper, whimper.

"If I already had a year of experience doing this exact same job, I would not be job hunting. I would be keeping that job."

"You know you want me. Oh, baby."

"One of the essential functions of this job is to 'Communicate with faculty and coworkers verbally and in writing.' I would just like to point out that 'in writing' is technically a subset of 'verbally.' Next time you might want to say 'orally and in writing.'"

In fact, I think writing resumes and cover letters is the most embarrassing thing I ever do. You know the way some people (like me) get nervous giving speeches? I feel the exact same way applying for jobs and going on interviews. Especially for jobs that I am not qualified for on paper. I never even want to show my application materials to other people for editing because they are too embarrassing. You know how after you send an e-mail and someone takes it all wrong because you weren't able to notice their face while you were spewing, and then you get a sick feeling in your stomach for ruining their day? I always strongly suspect that I am miscommunicating in exactly the same way when I send in an application. But eventually I do have to send something or I will never get a chance to get the job.

Nevertheless, today I will put those items behind another LJ cut. Because I am an adult now and can (occasionally) be brave. ( You do not have to look. )

If you want to make suggestions, feel free to do so. This thing is online; I can keep on changing it! Note: No formatting is allowed in the application; it has to be just plain text.

I feel like I did after the recital, like I have too much adrenaline with nothing to do with it. But I've now officially applied. It is now technically possible that I could get this job.

I taught a class today. Normally I like teaching, especially teaching people who are at a class voluntarily. But in this case, I wasn't looking forward to it.

One reason is that the subject matter is boring and complicated.

Another reason is that an awkward number of people had signed up for the class. Now, if ten or twenty people sign up for a class, I have an outline and I make a formal presentation, throwing out examples and anecdotes and taking questions, and it's all good. Some people hear things they've heard before, some people hear things that are over their heads, but it's okay, because they expect that.

If I'm having a one-on-one training with someone, I you figure out where they are and what they want and go from there. This only works if I have a good grip on the material, but I do.

If I have a group of two or three, but they're all at the same level or at least looking at the material from the same perspective, that's okay, too.

But I had three people sign up for this class from all over the place. One is someone I have done one-on-one training with several times and is an expert at some portions of the material and works in a dean's office. One works in a department in a different college where their workers get a lot of power, but not quite as much as in dean's offices. The last works in a department in a third college that does not even award degrees.

As it turned out, only the expert showed up, so we went one-by-one and it was fine.

After the class, I went back to my office and looked at my calendar for tomorrow--nothing at all. It's amazing how much happier I got. It's amazing how such a little thing can hang over me and make me not even want to go to work.

But then someone e-mailed me that a broken part of the system was now fixed, and he was almost right. It is now fixed enough that I can do my work. But many, many hours of this work have been piling up. So I have catching up on that to look forward to tomorrow.

And Monday I have the second class in the series. Two people have signed up: the expert who made it to class, and one of the other people who didn't make it to class. I think I'm going to call that person and offer to do a one-on-one with her to help her catch up.

I just realized I have something planned every single weeknight of the week on a regular basis:

Monday: dinner with sister
Tuesday: "body flow" gym class with up to two friends
Wednesday: private dance lessons
Thursday: group dance lessons
Friday: gym date with up to two friends (no longer also doing additional group dance lessons)

When I first got a real full-time permanent job, I went out of my way to schedule things for weekday evenings because I didn't get enough fun at work and I wanted to make sure to have some fun every day.

Well, this plan has totally worked was a great idea, but now it has gotten to the point where I look forward to my free time more than to my scheduled time. Because then I get to watch movies! Have smooching! Play on the web! Think that I'm going to sleep early (and occasionally actually do it)! Read! Catch up on laundry! Cook something delicious that will last me all week!

If I am writing something, but I am not the expert, and then I give it to the expert to edit, here's what I don't want to happen:

* never clarify anything
* never add information
* ignore every single one of my questions
* ask me questions, which I clearly don't know the answer to or I would have included that information
* point out the same formatting problem every time it occurs, even though you know I am using CSS, you are more of an expert at CSS than I am, you have read my CSS code, and you therefore definitely know that I only have to fix this in one place.
* delete things in such a way that what is left no longer flows or perhaps even stops making any sense
* keep telling me to add links that are already there but which you can't see because you are looking at the printout even though the online version is available for you to look at

When this happens, I no longer feel like I am on a team, where more than one person is contributing. Instead I feel a little bit too much like I am in front of a firing squad. Or, at least, that the thing I am trying to write is in front of the firing squad.

And then I start to think that if this expert doesn't care how crappy this thing turns out, why should I care? I start thinking that probably no one is going to read this anyway, so why am I beating myself up about it?

And then I recalculate how long it is until I get to retire. Eight years, nine months, and three weeks. Too long.

And then I look at the current job openings. No good. No jobs from the Distance Learning Center or DIIA, or anything else I could get and stand to do that didn't lead to a 30% pay cut.

And then I write a journal entry. And then I calculate how long it is until lunchtime. And I really, really wish I could finish the book I'm reading instead of work on this writing. But then finally I go back to rewriting.

I don't have much to say, but I'm giving you plenty to read (see end of entry; I'm sorry I've been forgetting to give you fabulous links).

We're feeling a little sick around here these days.

Today's weather was absolutely perfect for having lunch outside in the shade, and I got to do that exact thing with raaga123 today.

Meanwhile, I'm still having problem-du-jour episodes at work. Since I was gone three days, of course I had three broken things waiting for my return, plus an additional broken thing for that day, and today I found another broken thing. These are all related to the fact that I was given a new computer.

I know I am supposed to love having an exciting new computer, but I never do. This adventure involved having to find all the software I use that the installer forgot about and get it installed. I had to get some things properly re-connected. The software is also new--all the latest versions--which means I've got an extra learning curve for everything I do for a while.

Plus apparently orange is in because all the new applications have way more orange than they used to. I like orange fine, when it is with other earth tones. What I don't like (in general--there are exceptions) is a lot of blue with a highly contrasting, jarring orange popping up everywhere. Flight-suit orange in large doses is the color of headaches.

And then I had to do all that other stuff I've been doing gradually since the last time I got a new computer, like mapping the two Enter keys to both act line returns, some default colors to more soothing combinations, re-populating the old memory banks with the full e-mail addresses of the colleagues I write to frequently, etc.

This evening I'm not going to the gym or to dance class but just doing whatever I feel like, which is getting into the spirit of the "Creative Deprivation" entry below, and which is an excellent Friday evening plan.

Journal Entry of the Day - Creative Deprivation on The Bemusement Park - long and not humorous, but it's wonderful when someone explains something complicated so clearly. "I've missed too much by reducing my life to a series of tasks to be prioritized and completed as efficiently as possible; no one has asked me to turn my life into a giant 'to do' list to which anyone may add things. I've done it to myself, in a quest to justify an existence the validity of which no one was questioning."

Other Journal Entry of the Day - See cartaufalous's premier journal entry, 100 Miles. "In fact about the only sticker on the truck is the one on the windshield, pink neon, four inches tall and blinking, that says, 'Please Officer, pull me over now!'"

The broken system du jour is my computer again. I again couldn't get to any of my documents. This time the network administrator decided it was my messed up firewall that was to blame, which he had tried but failed to replace months ago. There is a new computer waiting for me, and that will fix my problems eventually. Meanwhile, I can access my documents via the web.

However, I cannot print anything. I know it's the same problem because when I search the network to find a printer to "add," my computer can't see any. I don't have the heart to call my network administrator again today.

And two, count them, two reports that were supposed to have been run by today and that will give me enough work to do for the entire month, were not run. One was forgotten, for the second month in a row, out of two months total so far. The other report someone was afraid to run until feeling more sure that a certain broken something has been fixed and so is waiting for another guy to placate these fears.

Well, so that's fine because I've been volunteered to help with another project anyway, which I normally wouldn't have time for. Except that apparently the delegater has no time to see me today. The one time proposed was during a meeting I have, I replied that I was available all other times until 5:00, and there has been no response.

I'm tired and I want to go home.

Today was a fabulous summer day. It's still 80 degrees (27 Celsius) at 6:30 p.m. Too bad I had to work through most of it in an overly air-conditioned building. Too bad that my friend who's visiting this weekend will miss it, because by this weekend it will be wintry. It will be very windy and will freeze or nearly freeze at night. Of course, since she chose to visit in February, she may not have been wanting summer weather.

Before today, we've had spring weather for, really, a couple of months. All kinds of things are blooming. And one of those things is the Texas mountain laurel! I really do love to stop and smell the flowers when this tree is blooming.

I think this is my favorite native tree, even though it's just another runty tree. And that's partly because it's beautiful in all seasons. It's evergreen and has rich green leaves. It has gnarly multiple trunks. And every spring for about a week, it blooms. The flowers are cascades of purple blossoms with a very strong fragrance reminiscent of grape bubble gum.

If you are familiar with wisteria, the flowers have a similar look and aroma, though wisteria is a vine rather than a tree.

If you are familiar with the mountain laurel that grows in the Smoky Mountains, those flowers are quite different. They are white and pink and shaped like hoop skirts.

Warnings: If you feel the need to sniff Texas mountain laurel blooms from close up, check for bees first. Also, don't let your dogs or toddlers gnaw on the seed pods because they are poisonous. And you must try very, very hard to refrain from throwing the seed pods into the yards of particularly annoying dogs. Because you are a good person and the poor dogs don't know any better. And they can't help it that they never get hoarse, no matter how long they bark.

Last week at work, person A noticed some new versions of web sites created by person B that were live, without any fanfare or even time for comments. He had a number of criticisms, and over the weekend he put together a list. Today he mailed that list to B. A is tired of seeing problems crop up that are never fixed, even if the fixes are easy, and has gotten into the habit of documenting everything.

Today I met with B for other reasons. B said that A's comments were very helpful asked if I knew whether A would mind meeting with him to discuss this further. He had worked with person C, but even the two of them together are hardly experts on everything.

In summary, A is going to be ecstatic that B is actually going to address his concerns. And B is ecstatic that someone is actually noticing his work and helping him do a better job.

I also got some unexpected happiness because B approved all the updates I requested in draft pages that were not yet live. I really expected a lot of arguments about my changes leading to pages that weren't pretty enough, but he only argued one point, which I was able to find a way to concede.

I suspect that many of us are in danger of getting so paranoid that everyone else is just an obstacle that we won't even try to get anything done anymore. Currently, we're still making at least pathetic half-hearted attempts, so there's still hope!

Once I made the terrible mistake of dressing up as a ballroom dancer for Halloween at work. I wore a sparkly and whooshy dress, and I carried around a jam box playing a tape of ballroom dance music and I danced between my desk and the in-box, my desk and the printer, etc.

The reason I decided it was a terrible mistake is that it brought into very sharp relief how much less fun my job was than ballroom dancing was. It's hard to explain, but although generally I was satisfied with my job, on that day it seemed depressingly boring.

I'm getting the same kind of feeling now, just in comparison to reading on the way to and from work and in comparison to eating lunch, even when I'm eating alone. Maybe that's why I'm eating so much at work these days. I would enjoy eating continuously if I let myself.

In the olden days, after a rough day at work, where I felt like I just wanted to go to sleep, then as soon as I stepped out of the building into the beautiful sun and the beautiful plants, I would suddenly feel inexplicably happy and energetic. Now I feel sleepy even after I get home.

And my job is not that bad. It's not like I--wait, before I continue, think of the worst job you can imagine. No, worse than that. When I tried that, I decided that the worst job I could imagine was having to remove dead animals from the road. But then I read someone else's list, and at the top (bottom) of that list was crack whore. Okay, that would probably be a worse job.

So, it's not like I'm an animal remover or a crack whore or anything. It's just that I feel so powerless. Today I finally approached someone about a problem; let's call him person X. I learned from him that certain new online forms were no longer accompanied by paper forms. So, I attacked the list of online forms. I found a bug which prevented me from continuing. In a system which is now under the charge of a brand new programmer. So I gave the programmer the bad news.

Then I found another problem that I had to bring to person X, and it turned out that is due to a bug in the same system. Person X will work with the programmer on this one.

Then I found another problem, which I didn't have the heart to bring to person X.

**

Bus strike update: The bus strike was actually averted because our mayor stepped in to help with negotiations because the bus service is important to our citizens. Unbelievable! In my town, mostly just poor people, students, and bleeding-heart liberals use the bus. And our mayor says they're important? Really, it's very odd. The system is so bad that most people would never use it if they had access to a car. In fact, someone I just talked to today only started riding it after his car broke down and he tried it out of desperation and then realized it was less stressful (most days) than driving, and took no more time than driving (since the parking situation at work is terrible).

So, back to the family Christmas party on Wednesday. I arrived with a headache and an attitude.

Okay, maybe I'm still in novel-writing mode. I did have a headache still. And I was totally stressed when I got home from work before the party. Part of it wast that I was bringing no food. Everything I like was already being made by someone except a few things which are totally not on anyone's diet--very high-carb things. Part of it was that I had no presents wrapped. Part of it was that I was feeling responsible for the timing of everything, even though I had the least powers in this regard. Also, I accidentally broke a glass when I turned on the water too hard. Fortunately it was not a favorite or important glass, but it did require a lot of clean-up time, because you know how glass gets absolutely everywhere. And the whole time I was wondering if Robin would get off work at a decent time.

So then I decided to just calm down and lower my expectations. I decided the hosts would be displeased no matter what I did, so I may as well not stress myself out trying. This is an exaggeration of reality, but sometimes exaggeration is what it takes to get me to do the right thing.

So I didn't wrap the presents; I just stuck them in a big paper bag, knowing people would be pissed off that they went to the trouble of wrapping gifts, but apparently I couldn't be bothered. I did remember all the gifts, though.

And I never did think of anything to bring to add to dinner. I only brought my favorite Christmas mug. It has Santa gleefully dancing around the Christmas tree.

When Robin did get home, I helped him as much as I could, and stayed out of his way as much as I could otherwise. Then I let Robin drive because he drives faster.

When I got there, right away T. is all asking how I'm doing and if I'm okay. D. gives me a big fluffy warm jacket thing to wear. I stay out of the way while others are finishing up dinner, until I am commanded to tear up some more bread for the stuffing.

Dinner is delicious and there is way too much and there is even plenty of stuff I like even without any carbs but the stuffing. Oh, and the plum cobbler. Talk about your family heirlooms. The bread part of the cobbler was made from a family recipe. And the plum filling for the cobbler had been canned by D's mother herself many years ago. D's mother has been dead for years now, so it's so cool that she helped prepare part of our dinner from beyond the grave. The siblings all agreed it tasted just like Mom's.

Then we all passed out presents. Since mine were unwrapped, they all got to see what they got from me first. But it was just fine. I still want to wrap them next time, though.

I got a cheese cutter very much like D's that I have been admiring. Both consist of a cutting board with a wire cheese cutter attached to it. Mine also has one of those cake-cover-looking things--a glass lid to put over the cheese you aren't using right then to help keep it from drying out. I am using it at every party I ever have from now on. I know I'll always be serving cheese because one of my friends always feels a little disappointed when there's no cheese at a party. And it's just the coolest cheese-serving thingy of all time. We haven't decided where we can possibly fit it yet, but we will figure something out.

I also got hair sticks. I have long hair, so I am the type who should be able to use them. However, I have never figured out how to get them to work. So D and I decided we need to get together and have a playing-with-each-other's hair party.

Robin got the whole season of "Firefly," which is totally awesome. We also got a two-person hammock, which we could actually put up if we ever build the screened-in porch we want to build onto the back of the house.

Their brother G. was visiting. He told us some interesting stories. For example, he told us that one of the reasons he's moving from El Salvador to Peru instead of trying for some place more to his liking is that this way he can avoid entering the pool of people chosen to go to Iraq next. He also said that the American military has an amazing medical presence in Iraq. This means that people who would normally be dying are being saved. He knows several people who are missing limbs.

And this house has carpeted stairs. And there is twice as long a run of carpeted stairs as is at my sister's house, so I tried them out, but from the near the bottom. First I sat on a step and stretched out my legs along the stairs. That just led to thumping down the stairs. Then I lied down on my back and tried again. This could be fun if you're the type who enjoys those really hard back rubs like almost everyone but me likes. Well, I'll still have to see how the kids are doing it.

Overall, it was a perfectly nice party, and everything went just fine, and it was good that I decided to stop stressing.

**

My favorite online journaller is starting two weeks of vacation. He doesn't have anything particularly special planned, but does plan to do something productive and something fun each day.

I also have a lot of vacation (a week and a day). I usually like to have a big project to do, though it's not always that easy because the stores that have interesting supplies are likely to be closed. I do like to have something to show for it after having so much time off. My best project was adding shelves to my pantry.

I have so many goals that I could really go overboard and end up not making much progress on anything. So I've decided to focus on two things. I think I'll get up with Robin and then after he leaves I'll spend an hour a day reorganizing things. I have a lot of piles of things, and I really should be able to fit all my clothes into my closet and dresser, for example. Also, some vegetable oil has leaked on one cabinet, and I've been putting off cleaning that up for much too long.

My other goal is to spend one hour a day cutting down trash trees and doing other annoying gardening. This kills two birds with one stone because that will also be exercise. I'd probably do this in the late afternoon when it's warmest.

I also still want to keep doing all the other things I'm trying to do--write journal entries, learn JavaScript and work on a JS book, brush my teeth and drink enough water daily, that sort of thing. I may also go to some lunchtime gym classes or something.

Robin's best friend has the same week off; we may try to meet up to see the kind of movie that we both like but that Robin doesn't. It's hard to think of such a movie, but we decided something overly heartwarming, especially if it were based on a true story, might fit the bill.

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February 2026

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Note of the Living Deb

Entries tagged with mood

Small-time Urban Adventure

Disturbing influences

Waiting

Strangely Offended

Results

Eating Continuously

Not In On It

Wall coverings

Gardening, Exploring, Storing

Snarky

Job Application #1

Weird Class Sizes

This Plan Has Totally Worked

Rant on editing

Not much to say, plenty to share

Broken Systems

Tree: Texas Mountain Laurel

Ecstasy in the Workplace

Suffering by Comparison

Party Week, Day #2.5