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The cold and feet post
Well, one toe to be specific.
I am a dork. A klutz.
An awkward bundle of looking like a put together female on the outside and a Star Wars loving, cartoon watching, zombie adoring, comic book and action figure collecting, insecure teenaged boy on the inside.
This week I got my 3rd head cold in 4 months – a record for Miss. I-never-get-sick.
As I said yesterday, awkwardly, on Facebook, if I could itch the back of my eyeball, throat and ear with my tongue, I’d be golden.
Worked Monday and Tuesday with a fever and a leaking face – as did my boss.
I swear, our office should be quarantined at certain times of the year!
One ‘carrier’ comes near the building and the rest of us fall in groups of diseased worker bees – then keep passing it back and forth.
But I’m hearty. My boss and I sneezed and sniffled greetings to one another and carried on.
I’m leading up to something here.
I gave birth ‘au naturale’, I worked the day after I broke my wrist on the busiest day of the month – writing with my left hand like a chicken scratch trooper – I will only stay home if I absolutely can’t make it.
But today, I cried like a toddler after a stupid toe injury.
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I started the day fuzzy – having not slept well – my mouth felt like a nest of scratching, very furry kittens had slept in it.
I took cold meds and remembered it was the day I had to be at the office early.
I skipped a shower, hurriedly dressed, threw kibble in the dogs bowl and headed to the car.
Then I sat there – in the driver’s seat and realized I was ahead of myself by over half an hour.
Got out of car – shuffled back into the house, grabbed another cup of obviously much-needed coffee and sat dazed on the couch.
The clock ticked by and I wished I had taken my shower.
When I did arrive at work, I was in hyper-drive mode. Lots of physical things to take care of. Cleaned, sorted out an office – back and forth, back and forth.
Then nature called.
As I was exiting the bathroom I opened the door only to have it stop half way. It hit a door stop.
Door stop was my toe.
Now, I’m in ‘Oh God this really hurts and I’m afraid to look at what I’ve done’ mode.
Then I realize … door is still stopped half way … on my toe.
And the knowledge that I now have to basically run my toe over AGAIN is dawning on me.
I closed my eyes and WHAM – got the door ‘off’ my toe.
Tears filled my eyes … and since I have a high threshold for pain, I’m scaring myself with my body’s reaction and definitely not wanting to look down.
Seriously, the breath was literally snatched out of me. That ‘whooomf’ of adrenaline and pain rippled through my body.
I must have made a noise, because someone, not sure who at the time, noticed me.
I hobbled to the kitchen, bleeding on my shoe.
My boss went for the first-aid kit and a co-worker came to help.
I felt like an idiot.
Trying not to cry, and not succeeding.
I remember my co-worker (that sounds so formal, she’s my friend too, as is my boss) telling me that it would be okay to swear.
I also remember thinking I REALLY wish I’d showered as they were looking closely at my foot.
And I do remember saying – “I already don’t feel well … and now I’ve hurt my tooooooe”
My boss said I could go home – and since being at my tall desk is the exact opposite of elevating my foot – I took her up on it.
****** *********WARNING! GRAPHIC IMAGE BELOW!*********
It bled for over 3 1/2 hours.
I’m pretty sure I may have fractured it above the toe knuckle. Is that what it’s called?
Because it bends – but when I step flat (which, I won’t be doing again anytime soon) the wind is knocked out of me and a shocking pain goes up my foot.
Of course, I won’t know this for sure as I can’t go to the doctor.
Besides, there’s nothing they can really do.
(Unless this nerd goes to a doctor whose last name is Who)
‘The 21 day Fix’ – Or, ‘What the hell? Is that Amanda Exercising?!?’
So, in the interest of bonding with my co-workers – and having decided it was time to tone up, I joined ‘the 21 day fix’
It takes place after work in our aptly named ‘training room’.
It was a lot easier standing up and speaking in front of the agents earlier today during the meeting, than it was planking on a mat later in the same room.
Not needing to lose weight, I’m skipping the diet part. But I shall share my foray into exercise with you by journaling a couple of days at a time.
Day 1: I didn’t have a mat. Was advised they’d get me one because I wouldn’t want rug burn. (Since it was just us girls in the room at the time, I confessed that it’s been a long time since I’ve had rug burn and wasn’t sure if I minded.) But, okay, guess I needed a mat.
I thought there was a warm up? Why are we running in place and doing jumping jacks without stretching? Oh – this is the warm up?? Ok. I can do this.
Push ups … um … for someone who doesn’t weigh much, it’s sure as hell hard to push that small weight up with my little arms!
Sit ups – I had to be doing them wrong, because they didn’t hurt.
The trainer next to me, with muscles where I didn’t know muscles could be born, was ‘feeling’ it. WTH?
I was not feeling it. At all. Wait! No! I did feel it in my neck. That’s when I laid down on the mat, thinking I was being responsible. After all, if I’m doing it wrong – this … circular sit up – then I should probably not do it right? “Don’t quit on yourself!” Oh god.
There were weights and scissor sit ups and then – the planking.
I’ve tried this before, and wondered what all the fuss was about. Easy!!! Um, not so much when you’ve already awoken your muscles and done dozens of push ups! Okay, four … FOUR push ups.
I am pathetic.
I assumed since I could carry 12 grocery bags in the house after opening and closing the gate with 1 finger, I was in shape.
I assumed since I can lift desks, couches and filing cabinets without complaint – I was in shape.
I assumed that since I could carry a wriggling, 70 pound hairy manatee into the bath tub, after chasing her around the house – I was in shape.
I am not in shape.
My arms and ‘pectorals’ (I was calling them boob muscles) are quivering. I’m actually tired – and I did the “I worked out! I think I’ll eat something healthy for dinner!” thing.
This week should be good. Good for post fodder anyway.
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Day 2: Lower fix.
I almost bowed out tonight. My cold had come stomping back into my head like it owned the place this morning. But I took the determined and stubborn route, had my son bring medicine and decided I was NOT going to bow out.
I’m in this now – and I don’t quit!
My first thought, as I waited patiently in my work out clothes was, okay, no problem! I’m flexible! My legs are “strong like ox.” Only, I’m home now, and they feel about as strong as “newborn calf” (No pun intended.)
A work friend who always gives me a hard time (it’s our thing we do – he’s not being cruel) was behind me tonight – and not in the supportive sense of the word. He kept making me laugh, which made holding poses that already had me quivering even more difficult.
In front of me – “Don’t quit on yourself” trainer. I was sandwiched.
You know how avid joggers and exercisers talk about breaking that pain barrier and getting that exercise high? I haven’t experienced that yet. But I did ‘feel it’ in my thighs and arse tonight, AND, I broke a sweat! So, that’s one small step lunge for womankind.
My favorite part is still the warm down. And any exercise that has us on the ground.
I’m hungry.
Considering my pre-work out snack was 4 boxes of conversation hearts and cold medicine, this is not surprising.
Good thing I’m not doing the diet part.
Tomorrow is Pilates! I’m going out on a stretchy limb and assuming my assumption that it will be easy is wrong.
But I’m doin’ it anyway!
18 more to go! (I missed the first one if you’re doing the math.)
Yeah, that busy.
I feel like an overstimulated toddler … overly tired, mind racing – having spent another day learning and trying such a variety of new things!
It’s a good feeling.
My new position has definitely kept my mind from wandering to any places it shouldn’t be right now.
The most bizarre thing happened today.
I was multi-tasking, and standing at the front desk while touching my thumb to my index and middle finger – when I felt ‘wet’.
I glanced at my hand … blood.
Enough blood that the ‘wet’ was not just a ‘sticky’ or ‘tacky’ feeling – but as if I had too much lotion on my hand.
I glanced around my body … where???
My right wrist was bleeding – and I had one hand in the air and my wrist before me as a customer walked in.
I sought out the agent she had come for while trying to think what in the world I could have done to cut my wrist and not know it, and getting a band-aid from her well stocked drawer. (She seriously has everything in that drawer.)
THIS is how occupied my mind has been. Forgetting I’m hungry until my stomach loudly growls, forgetting to go to the bathroom until my bladder cries out – and I LOVE it.
I am definitely a person who thrives on variety and the opportunity to learn!
I’m also the kind of person who can’t ‘clock out’ in my head.
On the drive home I was preparing a power point presentation in my head, reminding myself to follow-up with someone I’ve asked to instruct a class and having conversations with people I won’t talk to until tomorrow.
I need to find a solution for that. Meditation? That’s almost begging for disaster.
I can’t sit still.
Not for a movie, not for a conversation – I pause half-hour TV shows for crying out loud!
Then there’s the fact that I think too much. Just typing that sentence I recalled several examples, listened to part of a commercial and wondered about the validity of the product and noticed my dog wants to go outside.
Meditation …
If I could break the barrier of my mind – and be still, it could work.
I’ll just have to be sure to wear armor so as not to incur any unexplained cuts!
Bare footed
Something I had been looking forward to and planning for did not come to pass.
I don’t know how I really feel about that right now, or if I should even be thinking about how I feel.
It seems somehow selfish to be disappointed – sad – confused.
Regardless, there is a sensation in the part of my heart that still believed in fairy tales, akin to having the wind punched out of me.
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My work week had not ended on a high note either – I overheard an inaccurate account of something that I was a part of.
What bothered me most about that was being reminded, once again, that I am naive and gullible when it comes to placing my exuberance and trust into the hands of others.
I forget that.
I think the best of everyone. I don’t expect it, but I give my trust easily.
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So I’m sitting in my little sanctuary – and trying to process the latest news – and I feel numb.
What I know to be true are the following things:
I’ll never stop believing there is good.
I’ll never stop seeing good in others.
I’ll always give the benefit of the doubt to those who may not prove to have deserved it.
I’ll always give those who have given me reason to doubt, a second chance.
I will show up, no matter where it is, with all I have to give. Whether it’s work, friendship, love …
When I ready myself to sleep – I will ask myself if I accomplished those things.
My list of things I’m grateful for, far outweighs any complaints I could write down.
Among them, of course, my son – the irony that the picture I used above is from the song ‘Beautiful Boy’ has not escaped me.
And this phone call – from a dear friend who reached out – to help me process the matter of the heart.
I’m ok.
I know this to be true too.
I am rich with the most important treasures.
And if I am never to have a glass slipper placed on my foot – I will walk bare footed.
The Business Trip
Business trip.
It sounds so important and jet-setty doesn’t it?
“Oh my goodness I still have to pack for my business trip.”
or
“I’ll be out-of-town those days … you know … on my business trip.”
I was given my hotel reservations – my rental car reservation and the company credit card.
Was still feeling pretty grown-up and important at that point.
I then shared what car was reserved for me with my mom – who, after showing some interest and googling it – found an article that mentioned there was really only enough room to put habitrail tubes in the trunk. Yeah … the hamster kind. And yes, the car review really, truly said that.
I did not care. As long as it ran, was newer and safer than mine, and I wasn’t paying for it, I was going to love it. Even if it came with a box of live hamsters that had to accompany me on my ‘business trip’.
I did insist on GPS though.
I am VERY geographically challenged. And I have no interest in becoming less geographically challenged. I only have so much memory left, I don’t need to take up remaining brain space with such things.
It’s not likely I’m going to be on a high-speed chase advising dispatch that the perp is now ‘headed South Easterly on Main Street’ now am I? Is ‘Easterly’ even a word? This is how geographically challenged I am – I don’t even know how to speak the language.
I would learn how to say sentences with ‘unsub’ in them if it meant possibly meeting up with Shemar Moore or Matthew Gray Gubler though …
I digress.
The trip.
I packed light. dressy clothes for the office and the dinner I was invited to after work, 3 pairs of underwear, a fresh top for the drive home and the jeans I had on me for the drive.
I said goodbye to Nic (who wasn’t that bothered that I would be gone for two nights) and to Butters (who did appear bothered that I was leaving.) This has helped me decide who is in my will immensely.
*Actual Butters face morning of departure
What a sad little wrinkled manatee eh?
Anyway …
The first couple of hours in the trip went well. GPS didn’t have much to do as the first leg of the trip is pretty much one road.
Then – I hit ‘real’ freeways.
How do I make this clear? How to even find the words to adequately sum up the emotions that hit me like a sledgehammer?
1) 3 pairs of underwear may not have been enough.
2) There is no such thing as ‘letting’ someone in/over. You want over, you have to aggressively slam yourself into your chosen area as if you’re in some sort of bizarre automobile mosh pit.
3) Going the speed limit in the slow lane is apparently not allowed. All lanes are subject to the anarchy that is Southern California. The people have decided that ‘flow of traffic’ is the only speed and ‘flow’ is a nice word for ‘very fast angry rush’
I am from a town that slows for burros. I am from a town that considers having to wait for 4 cars to pass before you can turn onto a main road from a side road, ‘rush hour’.
This was to continue for two hours.
Every once in a while, I would find cars to stay behind that seemed to have some common sense – and only going 70. I stayed behind my chosen escorts only to eventually lose them to their exits. Noooooooooo!
I seriously felt abandoned! My blurred, tired, wide eyes followed the direction of the cars as that Jurassic Park line came to my mind:
Only there was no ‘us’. Just me. Me and my trusty, though quiet, GPS.
4 anxiety attacks, one very almost accident and about a gallon of sweat later – GPS finally spoke and announced I could exit.
Then turn right. Then turn right. Then … ‘You have arrived at your destination’.
After shakily grabbing my luggage and business trip folder – I walked on shaky legs to the lobby of the hotel.
I saw nothing but the counter I could grab onto.
I pushed my reservation at the front desk employee and managed to get my last name out of my mouth.
I was tired, still traumatized and unable to focus on anything with any degree of accuracy when she gave me the run down of amenities and mentioned that should I want to work out, Golds Gym was free to use, just present my hotel card.
This woke the amused part of me up a tad … I don’t ‘work out’ and after that drive, the hilarity of the offer gave me enough energy to move the car to a spot closer to my room and ascend the stairs.
Of course the first thing I did was enter the free WIFI code and let people know that I had arrived.
Of course the second thing I did was take photos of the room.
I unpacked and after resting for a bit, was brave enough to get back in the car to seek supplies. I stocked the fridge with dinner and breakfast items. I was not leaving that room for anything other than my day in the SoCal (I speak that language now) branch.
That night, as I lay in bed, my skin exposed to the linen (I forgot to pack pajamas) I remembered every news show I’d seen on hotel bed bugs. So before I closed my tired eyes – I checked.
The bed was clear.
I would love to end this with ‘so I slept tight, and no bed bugs were there to bite’. But that’s not how it ended.
I slept loosely – with the neighbor above me who I lovingly named ‘stompy’, the neighbor next to me who talked loudly and blew his nose in the shower who I called ‘connecting door guy’ and the myriad of guests that strode by – their voices and steps echoing metallically in the wee hours of the morning.
And of course, the constant lullabye of the freeway.
Having said all of that I will end with, as insane as the ‘trip’ part of my business trip was, the day in the office made it all worth while.
I am however, insisting that should I need to go again, it will be when teleportation has been invented and perfected.
Debauchery Soup 