Routine

It is very difficult to come up with a positive daily routine, and even more difficult to stick to it. My goal, at some point in time, was to get up and work out for half an hour in the mornings, nothing too strenuous, but something to get the blood moving, and then to go to work, remembering, of course, to feed the cats and clean their boxes before leaving, then to work for an honest 8 hours and then come home, water the plants, change clothes, go to Kung Fu for anywhere between 1 and a half and three hours, come home, eat with my hubby, and then write for two hours before going to bed.

At this point I would be perfectly content to do at least three of those things every day. Work is easy, that is where the paycheck comes in. Writing is the most difficult, and getting back into Kung Fu after two weeks off is proving near impossible.

I once asked a runner how long it takes to make a good habit stick, and she said 60 days. And to break it? One. I then asked her how long it takes to make a bad habit stick? She said ten seconds. And to break it? A lifetime.

Hmmm. My good habits? Well, I do go to work every day.
Bad habits? Eating bad food, biting my nails, not working out...yikes.

I need to get back into a good routine!!!!

SOOOOO I have made myself a daily regimen schedule. Let's see how long this lasts. So far, out of 17 tasks that I should have completed yesterday, I completed 4. This is a bad start...but to be fair, I am really starting today and yesterday is the baseline.

Yep. Off to a good start.

IT'S DONE!!!

We completed the bathroom!!! YEAH!!! We worked and worked non-stop until it was done, and now it is.

I can't wait to start the next project!!

My sweet kitty baby!!

So....Osiris actually has a urinary tract problem. He may actually still be upset with us and acting out, but the more I think about it, the more I realize his guilty actions when he would pee on something, and his way of running to me when he had as if he thought he could explain himself. I feel REALLY BAD for having locked him in the bathroom to teach him a lesson...

He has kidney crystals. I guess they are a precursor of kidney stones, which I am told is more painful than giving birth (it is women who have done both that have said this.)

WHAT AM I TO DO?!?!? MY SWEET KITTY BABY IS IN TROUBLE!!!

Oh, and that's not all

Oh yeah, and we did everything listed in the previous blog between a 5k on Saturday morning downtown that SPF participated in, then me giving blood at 2:00 which left me incapacitated for a little while and unable to work on the bathroom, and then we went to a concert from 6:00 - 11:00. TWO VERY LONG DAYS!!!

"Almost There!!" or "I think I can I think I can" or "Somewhere Over the Rainbow"

Three possible titles to this blog for three important reasons.

1. The bathroom is almost done. This weekend SPF and I finished the joint compound on the walls, sanded the walls, painted the walls, cut and stained the baseboards, hung the exhaust fan, assembled the sink, painted the walls a second time, and mopped the floor. We are SO CLOSE!!

2. Now we just have two more nights before our guests arrive, and we would love to have the bathroom done by then. I THINK I CAN!!!

3. Yeah, right.

Finito.

Scared to Death

My uncle was almost scared to death once. He almost crashed a plane into the ground and pulled it up at the last possible second. He landed and seemed fine, but after three hours his lips started to turn blue. He was rushed to the hospital and after determining that he wasn't unhealthy for any tangible reason, the doctors determined that his system was shutting down because he had been almost scared to death.

Yesterday we had an earthquake in Southern California. Not my first, but enough to pitch our house sharply up and sharply down again while we were still in bed. I woke up in an instant panic and yelled "Landslide!!" snapping SPF out of his normally undisturbable sleep. We heard glass break, felt the condo lurch backwards once more and stop. I leapt out of bed and threw on the nearest jeans that I could find and ran into my closet to find a shirt to wear and wasted thirty seconds at least debating between my pink Franz Ferdinand shirt and my gray U2 Vertigo shirt, the whole time yelling at myself that I was going to be buried under forty tons of ocean-view, lagoon hillside because of a shirt.

I grabbed the U2 and ran upstairs. SPF had already dressed, grabbed the cat carriers and successfully shoved Isis into the first. I saw her and started screaming "Where is Osiris?!?! WHERE IS HE???" SPF told me to calm down, that everything would be fine and we would find the cat. I tore back downstairs, saw a streak of black fuzz and chased after it. I managed to grab a thoroughly terrified cat from under the bed, race back upstairs and shove him into the second carrier, all the while his claws trenched staunchly into my arms. I didn't care I just shoved, screaming at the cat the whole time to get in the f&*$%ng carrier.

This was all done within two minutes and we were out the door.

After a minute of looking we realized that the cracks were not any larger, The Pit was not any deeper, and the people across the way were out on the street trying to determine the same thing we were trying to determine. What the hell just happened? Our neighbors told us it was an earthquake in Borrego Springs, about 50 miles away. A 5.6 on the Richter scale. Our house was fine. The landslide wasn't worsened. And our elderly neighbor had not died of a heart attack. None of this seemed to ease my panic. For three months I have been dreading one event only, and before I knew better, there it was. My mind had told my body that we were about to die.

I could feel every twitch of my heart. Every expansion, every pump. It was racing and I thought it was going to explode. Undoubtedly the adrenaline of my worst fear was enough to shock my system beyond normal repair. Osiris, presumably feeling equal panic, clawed his way out of his cat carrier. Isis was turning circles in hers. SPF and I began to search the house for damage. After all, we had heard glass breaking when the earthquake hit. Nothing. No glass. No missing decorations or vases or mirrors or pictures. No broken windows or porch lights. We have no idea if we psychosomatically and simultaneously imagined breaking glass, or if one of the cats threw a jingling cat toy into the wall out of fright and it sounded like glass. Those are our only two scenarios at the moment.

I did not recover all day. My heart finally slowed down after about an hour, and a few rum and cokes soothed the twitching, but I was worn out, toast, for the rest of the day. And into today, it turns out. I am still acutely aware of my heart and where it is located in my chest cavity.

Needless to say I slept fully dressed last night.

I am still waiting for my lips to turn blue.

I Like to Build Things

This week is our company open house, Board meetings, Management meetings, and facility tours for all the big wigs. Today, thinking that the big shindig was starting today, I wore my favorite suit. When I got to work I discovered that there was still much work to be done before the meetings start, which is mostly tomorrow. The work? Manual labor assembling shipping and receiving work stations.

Cool.

So I have been screwing and wrenching and prying and lifting all day. I have super greasy fingers which I just washed, but they are still super greasy. I have, as of yet, not damaged the pants, though. The jacket I was smart enough to take off before I started work, though the spaghetti strap tunic I am wearing is getting a little too much attention. (It works really well with the jacket, but looks a bit too casual without it...)

Also, SPF and I have about finished our bathroom! We have repiped the wall, finished the tile, reinstalled the toilet, and cut the dry wall patches. Now we just need to patch up the holes, texture the exposed wall (that used to be behind the mirror) paint the remaining surfaces and install the base boards and crown molding.

Oh, and the light. We have to rip out the existing light and put in a new one. One because it doesn't match our new decor, and two because it is off center. The people that lived in our place before us were a piece of work. Nothing is done right. So we have to rip it out and do it right. We are. The tile looks really nice. The whole bathroom should be beautiful, and I am getting more excited about the decorations that we already bought. (Four pictures, some bamboo, and a placemat...don't ask, just come and see!!)

Gray for a Rainy Day

It could be the weather, but for the first time in a couple of weeks I woke up in a panic thinking that the house was falling down. The difference this time is that once awake, I didn't stop panicking. Even as I showered, got ready, fed the cats, and walked to my car, the whole time I felt as if I should be ready to bolt the second the foundation began to slide. I was actually planning how I would get into Dave and Milt's place if Dave weren't there and get Milt to safety.

I hate the city. The wall has not been started. SPF and I have to sue, and I hate litigious America. Why won't this end? When will someone do something?