What? You mean I have to WORK at work?

That's not-so-subtle code for I've been busy and I don't really have time to post today, so all you're really going to get is a pointless photo (which, incidentally, is one of the few remaining fall photos on my nerdstick. We're soon going to be back to flowers, since I didn't bother to take any new shots last weekend).

It's been one of those days where a lot's been getting done, but none of it has anything to do with what I'd planned to be doing today. Ah well. Looks like the newsletter's going to be delayed as usual.

That's such a normal occurrence that I shouldn't even bother to type it, though. And speaking of typing, time for me to get back to the typing I get paid to do.

Later, then.

And it was going so well...

So.

My head hurts.

It's a shame, really, because up until now it had been a decent day. I got to work earlier than I usually do for a staff meeting, I made an ass of myself in said staff meeting (that's the role I generally play, so still a decent day), I've been surprisingly productive for the rest of the morning...

And now my head hurts.

Figures, really. I should have been expecting it. After all, first we're dealing with the fact that I do still have a cold (knock wood, but it hasn't been a bad one this time around. Who knew I could have a cold that didn't make me feel like death?), and then we need to add to that the FRIGGING TIME CHANGE.

Oh, sorry. My caps slipped.

No surprise for someone with my sleep patterns, I know, but all the twice-yearly time changes do for me is give my brain an excuse to get even goofier with its nighttime habits. And you know what happens with this fall back nonsense, of course. My brain, which generally has me up by five am every damned day, doesn't realise that five am is now four am.

And yes, even though I was up until well past midnight according to the clock (watching something stupid on tv, but that's another problem for another blather), my brain decided to be wide awake at four.

No wonder my head hurts.

And with that, you'll excuse me if I delve into the purse to see what I can find to at least take the edge off so I can get a bit more work done before I completely crash.



I hope everyone else enjoyed that mythical extra hour. And if you did, I'm allowed to hate you.

Singing along

My two fans have probably noticed that my Sunday posts can be emptier than they really should be. Sunday should be the Day Of Blather, if you think about it. I don't really have much to do besides fold the laundry that's been air-drying overnight, and that should give me plenty of time to think of an actual topic AND flesh it out a bit. Sundays should be the day when you get to see what I'm really capable of. They aren't, though.

And why?

Internet radio.

Sundays tend to be the day when I turn the music on and sing along. Sing along while I'm doing some casual surfing, sing along if I'm playing a game. And yes, sing along while I'm trying to blog.

I'm singing along as I type this, actually. The Kinks. All day, and all of the night...

As you can imagine, singing along while trying to think of something to blather about doesn't usually add up to any real kind of post content.

Can't say that I care, really. When it comes down to it, I'd rather sing than blog anyway. Singing makes me happy. Blogging? Often leaves me dissatisfied, because I know I could be better at it if I'd put some real concentration into it.

But I can't do that when I'm singing along.

And I'd sooner sing along.

And there you have it.

Sundays, in case you wondered, are usually Sixties days. The stuff I grew up with, thanks to my father's tastes. The vast majority of it came out before I was born (I'm old, but I'm not that old), but since it was around the house it's all very familiar. And since I know most of the words, it's good for a singalong.

And occasionally a chair dance, but that's another topic altogether.

And on the subject of topic, since you now have my excuse for not having one today I think I'll stop typing now and go have a look at some of the Illustration Friday entries that have been posted so far.





To the accompaniment of Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons, apparently.

Have a good Sunday, everyone.

Can't take her anywhere

This time next week (well, maybe not this exact time, but you get my meaning) I'll be preparing to go away to a conference for four days.

As you can imagine if you've been following the gist of me (or at least blogworld me, which is, admittedly, semi-me. I'm not sure the internet would be interested in the whole package), this doesn't make me especially happy.

What you might not know, though, is the biggest reason it doesn't make me happy.

You might be thinking that it's because I'm very attached to my routines and I don't like to see them disrupted. Well... I am, yes, but I'm not that set in my ways that I can't take a few days to do something different.

You might think that it's because I'll be around people for four days and the loner in me will go absolutely bizonkers (it's like bonkers but with extra iz... or maybe it's just the Snoop Dogg version. I don't know). No, not really. It's not like we don't get down time. I was worried about that last year, but it worked out all right.

No, it's not the good ol' OLF brain that makes me dread things like this. It's the physical side of things.

I'll explain, yes. Somewhat.

Generally I'm in decent health (despite how much I complain about my health here, you have to admit that it's all little whinges), but there are a couple of things going on that make being in unfamiliar territory a bit difficult for me these days. One is the whole sleep issue, and the other I think I'll sidestep just now to avoid hitting tmi territory.

Sleep is definitely going to be a problem for this chronic insomniac, I can tell you that now. As my two fans know, I don't sleep well at the best of times. Trying to sleep in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar situation? Absolutely the farthest thing from the best of times. At last year's conference lack of sleep had me bursting into tears during one session (to be fair, and as I've mentioned before, it's not that hard to make me burst into tears anyway. Add no sleep to that and you could probably make me cry by looking at me cross-eyed), and faceplanting into a book I was reading at another. Good times, good times. So not looking forward to a repeat.

The other problem... hmm. Maybe I'll go all medical on the blog another time, but for now I'll just say that there may be a food issue to deal with.

So what to do besides stew about the whole adventure? I'm not sure. I suppose I could try bringing out the heavy chemical artillery to make sure I get at least a little rest, but that leads to being logy and useless the next day. Not too much I can do about the other thing besides bringing my own food, and I'm not sure I want to go to that inconvenience yet just to avoid another inconvenience.

Ah well. Nothing I can do about the whole thing at the moment besides fuss needlessly about it. And get some lunch.





Yeah, lunch. Type at you later, then.

No.

No pointless photo for today, because for reasons known only to itself sometimes my work computer likes to pretend that my nerdstick doesn't exist.

No post, probably, because I was sort of thinking that I'd get something jogged into my head when I saw the photos on my nerdstick.

No doubt you're tired of these excuses, but hey. You get what you get around here, right?



If I'm in the mood for this later when I'm at my father's place maybe I'll give this a try again.









Or, you know, not.

Compressorless

Being the hapless OLF that I am, I must report that I'm currently having a bit of tire anxiety. Not a huge amount, no, but it's still there.

You see, I'm compressorless at the moment.

The air compressor that I've carried around in the trunk for years (two different trunks, in fact) has decided not to behave anymore, so I've ditched it. Um, at my father's place. He thought he might be able to use it for parts.

Anyway.

It's funny how being without something that you usually take for granted suddenly makes you nervous that you're going to need it. I mean, seriously. If your tires are in good repair, how often do you really need a compressor? The last time I tried to use mine was in the summer (my tire was pierced beyond simple pumping up that time, though), and I can't really remember the last time I used it before then. Years, probably. All it did was ride around with me as a bit of emergency tire insurance. I may not have to use one again for years.

I hope I won't. I don't have one now.

It makes me a little tense, that.





Now, right about now many of my two fans are bashing their heads against the desk (they tend to do that anyway, but they're probably going at it somewhat more violently at the moment) in lieu of physically shaking me and yelling JUST GO BUY ANOTHER DAMNED COMPRESSOR, SILLY WOMAN.

Except they'd better not be saying the silly woman part. I'm the only one who's allowed to call me silly woman.

And anyway, I can't go buy another one just now. Someone may be buying one for me, and I don't need two.

You see, when I found out my compressor wasn't working properly at my father's place (I was wanting to top up a slightly low tire, in case you were wondering. I'm not quite neurotic enough to do random compressor tests just for the heck of it), I hinted (OK, TOLD. It wasn't actually a hint) that I'd be ok with him buying me a compressor for my birthday.

Yeah, I'm not shy about asking for useful things for my birthday. After all, it's how I've got my last two winter coats, and that's worked out all right.

So. Yeah. I suspect I'll be getting a compressor for my birthday, but it's not my birthday for a while. And in the meantime I'm compressorless.

And nervous.

And OLF. But there's absolutely no news in that statement.

----------

In other non-news, do you know how weird it feels to wear a ring when you haven't been wearing a ring for a while? I don't know what possessed me to put a ring on today that I haven't worn for months, but there you go. I'm wearing a ring, and it feels weird.

And yes, you needed to know that.

Back to work for Yours Oddly now, ok?

Well, crud

Literally. I've got the crud.

Not to give too many details, but the last couple of days have been hell on my digestive system. Today? Things seem to be settling down into more of an everyday cold (gee. Haven't had one of those for at least a few weeks now), but I'm still feeling a bit delicate.

And pissed off, naturally.

It wouldn't be me having a cold if I wasn't pissed off about it.

Not that being pissed off is terribly productive, mind. I know that. Doesn't stop me, but I do know it.

Anyway, I need to get back to actual work, so I'm going to have to keep this short today. Short and cruddy and pissed off.



Guess it's a good thing that this particular form of entertainment is free, eh?