Glum

I took markgritter to the airport this week. He'll be back Friday evening, which is not so long. But still, we actually have him around because we like him and stuff, and so Ista and I are a bit glum. (timprov may be glum, too, but he's sleeping, so it's harder to tell.)

I am pretty physically tired, having shoveled the steps and the walk this morning, and worked out, and walked the dog in the cold, and done some physical-ish housework. I am in tights and jeans and "expedition" SmartWool socks and a shirt and a hockey jersey. I was pondering putting my very thin indoor gloves on for awhile, but grasping the mug full of Really Good Hot Chocolate seems to have done the trick there. I am reminding myself that this level of tired would have come halfway through the shoveling two years ago, during the Year Of Sick. This is somewhat cheering, sort of.

I had a vertigo episode as I was getting the Really Good Hot Chocolate out of the pantry, and the lid popped off when I whacked into the pantry door, and I spilled Really Good Hot Chocolate all over hell's half-acre. Happily, I had been doing some housework earlier, so I could recover a good deal of it with nary a qualm about the cleanliness of my kitchen floor. Unhappily, I still lost some. Probably a serving. Sigh. Stupid vertigo. Also I crated Ista to keep her from the chocolate bits, which I think was the right choice: it's not as though every dog her size would have seizures and die from some fraction of the quantity of chocolate I spilled, but better safe etc. So she was Even More Glum. ("I didn't do anything, and suddenly the monkey slammed her shoulder into the pantry door and made me go upstairs to bed! Just not fair. SIIIIIGH")

In order to demonstrate that she is Distressed But Very Mature, Ista got a pair of my panties out of the laundry hamper and set them on the bed but did not chew them. Progress...still looks like the dog dragging my skivvies around every few months. Sigh.

The phones at Peninsula seem to be having some serious issues, because I got connected to a person for just long enough to be able to ascertain that they do indeed take reservations, and then I was cut off and get weird beepy noises every time I try to reconnect. Not fax beepy noises, either. Weirder than that. I am on the verge of declaring that the friends with whom I am dining on Wednesday can do without reservations -- it's a Wednesday, for pete's sake. Surely there's not some citywide rush for Malaysian food on Wednesdays in particular.

The vertigo episodes are becoming more frequent and severe on otherwise "good" days. Since Saturday of Thanksgiving weekend, I have fallen more days than not. Not down more than one stair, happily. But still. There is a clinic I can try for a second opinion, but they require a great deal of paperwork from more than one place before they will see me at all. So there's that to start. Wheeee, paperwork. I recently had a friend of my family provide a painful life example for how not wanting to deal with paperwork in no way exempts a person from it, so I am noting this by way of glum and not by way of intending to stick my fingers in my ears and sing in hopes that it will all go away soon.

There are good things about today. I'm going to have dinner down at my folks', Yorkshire pudding and brussels sprouts (consecutively, not concurrently). I've gotten a lot done and will get more done. I'm going to finish reading a book I'm enjoying a lot. And there was, of course, the Really Good Hot Chocolate. I'm just a bit glum, is all. I'll get over it.

Not-Glum

Have you ever tried to bake strawberry shortbreads and remain glum? Can't be done.

I haven't even eaten any of the dough. I don't have to. The smell of butter and good strawberry jam is enough.