Blog Archives

Musings from the Laundromat: Relaxing Flu Edition.

I knew I wanted to relax this weekend – didn’t realize how adamant my body was going to be about that happening.

I woke Friday to two lovely surprises.

1) A visibly swollen neck, sore throat, headache and fever

2) I’m not pregnant.  (Not that there was a possibility, but found that the least offensive way to put it for you.)

Went to work and really hung in there, if hanging in there means occasionally putting my head on my desk and mouth breathing.

Somehow got everything done and finally couldn’t ‘hang’ anymore.  I tapped out at 2, came home and hit my bed so hard there may be charges brought against me.

I can’t remember the last time I slept so much!

Well, intermittent sleep anyway.  Had anyone watched me Friday night they may have drawn the conclusion I was kicking heroin.

You know, that lovely ‘fever fidget’ mode?  Hot, cold, legs kicking – moaning.

The flu is no joke!

So I wake up Saturday feeling like I’d biked the Tour de France and realized I still had to adult.

I had no medicine, no more juice.

I called my mom (feeling pathetic) hoping she could shop for me.  I didn’t reach her and sat and debated.

Do I take my virus out into the world?  That would be selfish.  But, I needed provisions and my fairy godmother wasn’t flying in any windows with aid.

So, I went.

My eyes looked like Gilbert Godfried with a shellfish reaction.  My face pale, sans makeup – mouth lolling open like a zombie.

Safe to say no one hindered me during my excursion.

I grabbed meds, soup and lots of juice and headed back home.

Lots of movies watched me this weekend – but two I DID stay awake for were Bridget Jones’s Baby and A Street Cat Named Bob.  The latter was genius.

I don’t want to give anything away, but there is a scene tha mirrors something I described earlier.

Anyway, I highly recommend this movie – if you have Netflix, you can find it there.  It was a book first, based on these two:

So, now I’m at the laundromat.

And it would have been SO easy to not have come.

Especially when I arrived and there were people waiting outside and the door was not open.

But, my sheets and pillowcase needed washing – after two days of soaking up my germs.

And once I saw that the WIFI was actually working, I made myself stay and wait so that I could write to you.

I’ll be crawling back into bed after I make it up with these fresh linens and put my clean clothes away – and finding another movie to watch me.

And, I can say that I have successfully accomplished what I set out to do this weekend no?  Just – maybe next time, it can be by choice.

 

Musings from the Laundromat: Finger Lies and White Glove Cleaning edition

 

I peopled yesterday.

I SO peopled.

Made a return at a major store – found no replacement, went to another major store – this is after an uncomfortable drive to the first place.

_________________

Woke up.

Bathroom.

Care for pets.

Pills.

Shower.

Thought of leaving brings on another need for bathroom.

The drive: “OMG, why are they going so fast?”  “Am I going too slow?” “I have to be in this lane.” “Are they mad at me?” “They’re not going to let me in if I don’t move now.”

Store.

Bathroom.

Get me out of here!

_________________

Last store – my heart was ready to come out of my chest.  I entered Safeway.

Wiped my cart with the sanitary thingy – reach into my purse for my pen (I always do a ‘tally’ as I go) and ‘POKE’ … And OUCH.

I pulled my hand out of my purse and … Blood.

A lot.

A trial size perfume spritzer had shattered and the ‘poke’ was a shard of glass.

I headed to customer service because A) I am NOT going home now without my provisions and B) I needed her to check my lottery scratcher tickets because I am blind as Clarice Starling in Buffalo Bill’s cellar these days.

So I’m standing there – dripping on not only the cart, but the floor, my clothes, anything in my midst.

Me: (placing, very calmly, scratcher tickets on the counter)  Um, do you have a band aid?

Her: Wow.  You’re bleeding pretty bad.

Me: Yeah.

Her: OK. (Scurries off for ‘things’)

Me: I’m so sorry.

Her: Don’t be sorry.  How did you do that?

Drip.  Drip.

Me: (Feeling woozy, trying not to bleed everywhere and becoming increasingly aware of how much I am) I, um, I  was by the dispenser, the thing ..

Her: The sanitizer?  You cut yourself on the wipe container?

Me: Yes.

LIAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Liar!

LIE!

“Do you want to file a claim?”

No, no I didn’t lol. Because it wasn’t the dispenser’s fault.

She kindly patched me up and yes, I had missed a ‘winner’.  $10 in my pocket and a band aid on my finger and I was off.

But what WAS their fault?  The barricades in the aisles.  Stock people, I know you have to stock,  but, damn!  It’s hard enough for me to be in the store at it’s best time (which I still haven’t figured out) but when I’m doing a grocery version of a maze/obstacle course that’s ridiculous.

I was so DONE with being out, SO done with peopling and so mad at myself for allowing the sweet customer service lady to believe the sanitizer dispenser attacked me.

The rest of the day I spent cleaning and cooking.

It’s time for my annual home inspection – or as I like to think of it, ‘intrusive visit where photographs are taken of all my belongings’.

I clean all the time, but this visit calls for the white glove kind of clean.

You know, all the things you don’t do all the time.  (Or, maybe it’s just me?) Like, removing and washing the floor vents, cleaning the top of the  fridge, cleaning under sinks and tossing items not used even once since last inspection.

I got most everything done except my bedroom.

I just can’t get into gear to do it!

We all have that one room everything that doesn’t belong anywhere else ends up right?  Well, that’s my bedroom.

And it really sucks the ‘nest zen’ right out of my budoire.

I’ll get to it eventually.  I have a deadline after all.  That always motivates me.

But for today … I’m going to chill out a little.

Luckily, I am done with outside errands and there’s no more peopling in Sunday’s forecast.

 

Musings from the Laundromat: Rocky Horror Clock Edition

My clock is confused.

I set it for 6 a.m. Knowing I could comfortably hit snooze a couple of times before gathering my laundry and heading out to the ‘mat.

Woke on time – hit that button like the lady of leisure I felt.

Next eyelid opening had me staring at 7:30.  Ok.  Laundromat officially doesn’t open until 8:00.  I still had plenty of time to do my customary brushing of tangled hair and morning teeth then find some pants to throw on.

I even toyed with the idea of showering first …

Then I walked out of my bedroom and glanced at my other clocks.

8:30

image

My time keeper had taken a step to the left.

Now, I realize it’s Sunday and other than laundry and light cleaning, I have nothing pressing on my agenda – but I did get that momentary panicked bird in the chest sensation and then “Oh shit” went through my mind.

I encounter this ‘Time Warp” annually.  I have a ‘smart’ clock.  I beg to differ with its intelligence as it is supposed to know that we, in Arizona, do not observe Daylight Savings Time.  Our clocks do not Fall Back this time of year.

And besides, dear clock of mine – that occurred LAST weekend.

So, I changed its mode to whatever made the time correct and proceeded to head out of the door weighted down with two baskets of dirty clothing.

____________________________

Laundry Lady is here this week.  I’m glad.  Some normality returned to my routine.  We exchanged our usual banter and I sat at my 2nd favorite table.

While typing a man with a thick German accent asked:

“There is internet?”

“Yes,” I responded, “Free WIFI.”

He settled into the table behind me and has his tiny lap top out.  As I stuffed the dryers I asked, “Did you find it?”

“Oh yes.  You know, the McDonalds, they don’t have it anymore.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, yes.  I think they do not want for you to sit too long inside.”

I can’t remember the last time I sat inside of a McDonalds.  Can’t actually remember the last time I actually ate McDonalds.  I think that’s a good thing.

I do have a ginormous piece of salmon that I’ll be cooking in between cleaning and binge watching Salem on Netflix.

And, I’ll be cutting my eyes over to my clock occasionally to be sure it’s not up to anymore shenanigans.

image

Something a little punny about ‘watching’ a ‘clock’ no?

But I will be.  Know this clock, I WILL be.

 

 

Musings from the Laundromat: Eyeball edition.

My right eye is still asleep.  Not sure how that’s possible, but it’s managed to accomplish it.

Laundromat has an odd atmosphere today.  Even Laundry Lady concurred with that.  She’s half asleep too, but I’m pretty sure both her eyes are working.

Glaucoma Man isn’t even chatty.

Him: Anything new?

Me: Not really.

Him: Same stuff just older huh?

Then he walked off to the vending machine.   Very unlike him.  I should have mentioned I only have one functional eyeball – that’s something new.

image

More people have descended upon the ‘mat now – the room is abuzz with various machine sounds and an assortment of patrons.  The radio is now on and being drowned out.  That, or one of my ears is sleeping too.

Chatter from the front of the room – and Glaucoma Man is folding his wash.  He never has much.  Just a tiny red mesh containers worth.

And he never says goodbye.

Just hurries out with his red bag in tow.

I wonder what he does after he leaves?  Does he just sit in his trailer and watch TV?

No secret what I do.

I have the social life of a corpse.

I’ll put the laundry away … Walk my dog around the yard.  Tidy the house then spend too much time with my dear friend Netflix.

Hopefully I can do that with just the one eye.

The Day the Musings Died – and therapy gone wrong

 

Past two weeks at the laundromat, WIFI hasn’t worked for me.

I was unable to ‘muse’ and that bothered me.  I missed you guys and had so much to say!

They ‘fixed’ their WIFI by making a password free guest WIFI – and my iPad just would NOT pick it up.  So, actually now, laundry day sucks.

It’s like “Bye, Bye, Laundromat WIFI…”

Took my Chevy to the laundry, but no WIFI.

So!  Let’s catch you up

 

I went to ‘therapy” on advice from my doc that knows me since 13 years ago.

I have anxiety/panic disorder and … Add to that now, agoraphobia.

image

 

The therapist told me I have no self-esteem, and after divulging every creepy sexual moment in my life and my deepest darkest secrets, he went on to say,  “You’re beautiful, you need to see yourself that way.” (As if THAT was easy to do.) He went on to say … “you have great boobs”

Wait what?!

Are you freaking kidding me?????

THAT was my therapist.

I called him last week and told him I felt very uncomfortable with that.

I went on to say, “If I had come to you because I’d been constantly bullied, and you told me to sit down and shut up, that would have been the equivalent”.   He apologized profusely.  I told him I forgave him, but could not see him again.

Anyway.

I have my safe zones – driving to work and coming home.  But, when my son was out of town, I couldn’t go to the grocery store.

image

I also have a plane trip this month.

My biggest fears …. Heights and flying.

But it’s worth it.

I am very excited to see the person on the other side of that plane ride.

I have also looked up tools to survive the flight mentally.

I’m doing this.  Because it is important.  I may be shaking, may be scared but I’m going.

Imagine this though – seeing someone again who you have come to very much care for, although, sweaty, shaky, and having been up since 3 a.m.

Yes, 3 a.m.

Got to get to the airport 3 hours in advance and THEN, THEN, the flight.

image

I DID however Google getting over this.  And he had 3 steps.

These are what I remember.

1) You’ve been through this before and survived.

2) Tell yourself you’re excited about the feeling! It overrides the fight/flight sensation.   KEEP telling yourself you’re excited and tell the attack to “bring it on!”  Try to make it worse.

3) Shake out your arms and legs – literally.  It’s supposed to relieve something.

Guess I did remember all three.

I don’t see myself ‘shaking off’ on the plane though. Lol.  Maybe in the bathroom.

This is a very, very, very important trip and I’m GOING to do it!

Without flipping boob therapy.

(By the way, Mr. Therapist – that was padding.  But yes, I have an amazing body which should NEVER have been brought up.)