Late

I hate being late.
It gives me a sick feeling in my stomach, and I get all panicky...its vaguely the same feeling I get when I drink coffee, which would be why I don't drink it anymore!
Yesterday I started my orientation at Overlander. I'd never been there before, but it looked very straight-forward on google map. I even gave myself 10 more minutes than I thought I'd need to get there.
Well guess what, I'm absolutely horrendous with getting lost. As in I can get lost between point A and point B on a straight road. I found Overlander no problem. And then I promptly walked right past the main entrance by accident, and began wandering the grounds thinking, "Where the heck am I?" and "Why is this so hard to find?".
I ended up walking straight into one of the living room areas at the back of the facility, turning on my heel and walking right back out, and then ending up at a completely different building. I thought the sign said Overlander Administration, but apparently that was for something else. I went to some kind of Ministry of such-and-such building, and was completely surprised when my friend Steve opened the door for me. Apparently he works there or is training or something...I was very confused. He said he saw my car (probably saw me wandering around like a dweeb, too) and pointed me in the right direction. Which was basically right beside where I parked.
To get to the point, I was late for my first day of orientation, and the worried anxious feeling has not gone away yet. I keep getting little panicky lurches, and frantically searching for the nearest clock to make sure I'm not late again today!

And now I bid you a fond farewell until later this week. I am beginning a work marathon starting at 11. I go straight from work to my cleaning job, then home to sleep for not-enough-hours, then getting up at 5am to work at Overlander again. Then cleaning again at 6pm. Then working at 6am. Fun times!

Hopefully it will go by fast.

They're Back

So Katie and I were having a little foot-soaking session about a week or two ago and guess what I noticed??
That's right...
The warts are back.
And there are more of them!
I can't believe this.
I have never met such stubborn warts.
And now I know the pain of getting them burned off, so I'm scared of going back in. Especially since it didn't work last time. And there are more of them.
Waaaaahhhh....

Stuck

Yesterday I felt like I was on a roll. Look at all the progress I made! (this was taken at the end of the day)


After I had completed a few rows, I noticed a number of evenly spaced holes about 3 rows back. Somehow I had done my "m1" (make 1 stitch) all wrong, and now there were gaps. ARGH! I had to pull out all those rows and redo it.

That took a while, but when I had rectified the situation I felt much better.

Then I got to powerhouse through 12 rows of plain knitting. That was wonderfully restful.

Its those darned M1's that get me.
Somewhere near the midafternoon I got messed up trying to add more stitches, and when I tried to fix it, it just got worse and worse. I had 108 stitches when I should have had 110, and I couldn't figure out how that had happened, or where to put those two extra stitches.

It was very frustrating. Very, very frustrating.

Now my toque has been sitting in the time-out corner for a very long time.

I need my mom to come home and fix it for me, because I just can't face it anymore.

To distract myself I look at the wool.
You can't really tell from this photo, but its quite unique. Sometimes the thread is super super thin, and then in other places its all thick and puffy. This is because it is handspun (and dyed over a wood fire, as well!). I love the way it looks.
Its called "Manos wool clasica", and its from an organization called "Manos del Uruguay" (which means 'The Hands of Uruguay'). The tag reads,

"Manos del Uruguay is a non-profit organization which asssembles over 400 artisans in cooperatives scattered throughout the countryside of Uruguay. The aim of the organization is to bring econimic and social opportunites to rural women."

I guess its not quite fair trade, but considering I didn't even read the tag before I bought it...hopefully it is as helpful an organization as they make it sound.

Anyway, that's as long as I can distract myself from the fact that I can't work on my knitting project. ARGH!

The Photobook

I think I may have spent a post saying how wonderful digital scrapbooking is.
Quick, easy, convenient...

True, but it can also be expensive!

A month or two back I decided to get my butt in gear, and start working on my photos of Ireland. I knew I wanted to go digital...couldn't bring myself to even consider printing off a chunk of my thousands of pics.
I also knew I wanted the book to be 12x12. With so many pictures to document, they needed sufficient room.
I had lots of other criteria, but it will bore you. My point:

Turns out Shutterfly came the closest to my specifications. Not perfect, but the lesser of many evils.

I set up an account, and got to work.

For the last 2 weeks or so I've been working hard...no really. It is hard work doing these things.
Not like sweaty-brow hard work...mental and emotional hard work!

My patience has been tested with horrendous uploading times, failed uploads, pictures that won't fit the template, tiny spaces for text, and randomly bumping something that will delete the last hour's progress...you know the one.

Its also been really weird just going through all these old pictures, trying to remember names, places, and thoughts, from the time. I dug out a lot of old memorabilia for reference, and even cracked open my journal from that year. Whew! Emotional overload! I'm tellin' ya...this wasn't an easy project!

Once all the pictures and text were in place, it was time for the tedious work. Clicking page by page...checking that all fonts and font sizes were consistent, that they fit, were spelled correctly, spaced properly, etc. Also adjusting cropped pictures, and making some last-minute swaps.

It took hours...and hours...and hours...

When I knew there was realistically nothing else that needed to be done, I still couldn't click the "next" button. I was afraid.

Afraid that I missed a glaring error, and as soon as it was sent away I would remember and go, "OH NO!"...

and afraid of the price...

I knew roughly remembered how much the book would cost, with its 20 "complimentary" pages. But my book had reached about, well...would you believe me if I said it was 90 pages long? I could hardly believe it either. I didn't know how much those extra 70 pages were gonna cost me.

When I finally decided to get this other with, and went to the "checkout" I had another heart attack. I knew it wouldn't be cheap, but I wasn't expecting it to be quite THAT much!!! (I can't tell you the number, because I can't quite comprehend it myself). It was even 20% off, with some promotional deal going on.

It was a big dilemma. A BIG dilemma.
I began weighing the pros and cons. And thinking of alternatives...

But once the thought of, "Start over and scrapbook them the old-fashioned way" hit my brain, my mind was made up.

After all this time, my corneas bleeding from staring at the glow of the computer screen until the wee morning hours, uploading, typing, re-uploading, and re-typing...

All those hours, wasted?

I couldn't face it, guys.
I couldn't face having to start alllll over again.
So I clicked, "Order".

And that was that.

But get this...

THAT WASN'T EVEN ALL MY PICTURES!

I didn't put any of my backpacking trip in June in that book. Nada.

That's like...another 10,000 pictures! (not really, I don't know how many pics I have from that, but probably an equal amount)

For a second I contemplated starting another shutterfly book...but last night, I decided NO.

I will do them the old fashioned way.

Whether or not its cheaper in the long run, we will have to see. But since I already have a lot of paper, and all the basics needed, I think it will be a better deal.

That's what I'm telling myself, because I won't ever pay that much for a photobook ever again!

You have the WHAT?!

You know that tingly, irritated, itchy feeling your nose gets sometimes? Like when there is cat hair on your clothes, or you breathe in dust? Apparently there is a word for that:

Kriebel.
Like "KREE-bull"

My mother enlightened me. Its a Dutch word meaning "itch" or "tickle" specifically in regards to the nose.
Today I've been suffering from acute case of the Kriebels. I don't know what it is. At first I thought I was getting sick, because I was sneezing a lot yesterday, but I've stopped now and I have no other symptoms. Just this irritated nose that I just want to rub and rub...I'm resisting.
But its been unpleasant.

My only hope is that my pain has been your gain, now that I have equipped you with a new word for your vocabulary. Its a fun one.

Using Public Restrooms 101

Since beginning work as a janitor in September, it has come to my attention that perhaps not everyone has the Public Restroom skills and know-how that previously I have assumed was common knowledge. Perhaps these unfortunates are still in the Age of the Outhouse, and are just confused and bewildered by modern technology, ie: flushing toilets, paper towel dispensers, etc. Perhaps they just need a guiding light, a helping hand...
I have decided to compile a very basic list of simple instructions for these poor souls, so that together we may journey into a future of sparkling mirrors, and spotless toilet seats.

1. The Urge
It has come upon you, and the next logical step is to enter the bathroom. Unfortunately you are in a public place, which means the comforts of home are unavailable, and the choices you make here will affect others.
Because discomfort has become an issue of some urgency, you may be tempted to make some poor choices here in the Public Restroom, but I would urge you to take a moment and consider a few steps that will ensure a cleaner, more pleasant Public Restroom Experience for yourself and others.
Upon entering you will immediately take note of sights and smells of said Restroom. If your impression is positive and the facility seems clean, please continue. If it seems that it has mostly been occupied by monkeys and neanderthals, perhaps you should "hold it", as they say. However if it is a pressing issue and you must use the facilities or face a worse fate, please do not take on the mentality, "When in Rome..."
This will only ensure that conditions will grow progressively worse, and the janitor will want to end their life, and you wouldn't want that.

2. Stalling for Time
Public Restrooms are unlike private washrooms in that they are usually comprised of more than one cubicle, or "stall", with a toilet. Here you may be faced with possibly the most crucial choice of your visit. It is important to choose the right stall for your stay, and it is also important to realize there is very little chance of privacy. If this visit is going to be publicly unacceptable, it may be best to wait until you return home (or find a better hidden washroom at the end of the long hallway). Chances are you will encounter another visitor during your stay, and this can make things very awkward if you've left behind an gift, visible or invisible, for your successor to the throne.
3. Before You Sit
Check the lock. Make sure it works; make sure it exists. Check the TP supply, unless you wish to ask your next-door neighbour to share theirs. Check the seat for cleanliness. Check the bowl...for gifts from predecessors. If you have any suspicions that a gift may be lodged further down, inhibiting future passages, flush BEFORE you sit! If there is going to be trouble brewing, its best that the overflow be fresh water. If this stall does not meet the basic criteria, or you prefer not to run the risk of overflow, choose another stall.

4.The Aftermath
When you have completed your business, please, please, PLEASE, flush. Also, please check that you have left the toilet seat clean for the next user. If you have used the last of the TP, do the right thing and advise the next visitor, if you can. If you have blatantly disregarded my advice about keeping unacceptable visits limited to the private home washroom, and you suspect that flushing has or will create a blockage, I highly recommend closing the lid of the toilet (if available), and exiting the vicinity as quickly and discreetly as possible. Also, please never return. Ever.

5. Before You...don't...Sit.
If you are male and if you're using a toilet, lift up the seat. If you use urinals...aim. . And that's all I'm gonna say about that. Except that you should also flush. And please don't put your gum in there. In fact, lets just get a little crazy and say "Don't put your gum anywhere except inside the garbage bag". OK?

6. The Sixth Step
That's right! Surprise! There is another step! I know, crazy, right? I mean, who really needs to wash their hands....YOU DO. I have done some highly unscientific research* in my days as a janitor, and I have come to the conclusion that males wash their hands 50% less than females in Public Restrooms. This is just WRONG! You must wash your hands! The only time when this step might possibly be omitted is if there is no soap provided. Water does not clean your hands. It does, however, often make people feel cleaner, so I won't judge you if you insist on getting your hands wet, under those circumstances.
7. Dispensing the Paper Towel
Afer you have washed your hands, the moisture which still lingers must be dealt with. Please do not flick water on the mirror. There is absolutely no reason to do this.
To dry your hands, use the hot air fan, or the paper towel provided. If the paper towel gets stuck and tears into itty bitty peices as you pull it out, and the little shreds go everywhere...well I wish there was some way I could inflict suffering on you for that (same goes for TP), but its really not your fault, and I can't really expect you to pick up all those pieces, so I guess I have to. And you have to live with that guilt.
If the garbage bin appears to be overflowing, please do not assume this is a game somewhat like JENGA, to see just how high it can get before it falls. Press down whenever possible. You may even go so far as using another paper towel to protect your hand. If everyone did this, we would never see another paper towel volcano scenario again. The world would be a better place.
If you have the heebie jeebies about opening the restroom door, and you insist on using a paper towel to fend off those germs, please do not toss the used paper behind you and make a run for it. Prop the door open with your foot, and discard it from there. If this is not manageable, perhaps you should rethink this strategy. I might suggest you bite the bullet and use your hand, compensating with a little hand sanitizer afterwards.

8. Pay it Forward
If you notice that a washroom is unstocked, or that an anonymous person has violated the rules of socially acceptable Public Restroom usage, a.k.a created a gag-inducing mess, you will be doing yourself and everyone else a favor by informing the management. It is not obligatory, but it is a thoughtful and beneficial thing to do. Beneficial, because it might be the reason you have TP and/or an available stall to use.
In conclusion, let me just say that last night as I was forming this post in my head, it was much more sarcastic and possibly a lot more graphic. I think I have managed to channel that passion into a somewhat more constructive piece of work. This may or may not be a good thing. I really wanted to vent.
Sometimes the way people leave the restrooms I work in is really unbelievable, and I wonder what they are thinking. I think it is that whole idea that whatever you see when you walk in is the standard, so if one person doesn't flush, or doesn't throw their paper towel in the bin, it just deteriorates from there. Conversely, if everyone followed basic etiquette, we wouldn't all be so apprehensive about using Public Restrooms!

Any Restroom horror stories out there?

*My research consisted of noting that the womens' restroom garbage is always full of paper towel, and the mens' rarely has any, but still shows signs of use.

December Doldrums

I always get like this mid-December.
Its so dark...all the time. And cold. I just want to curl up in a blanket by the fire, sip hot drinks, read books, and stay there 'til Spring.
I have had no inspiration to blog. I still have no inspiration to blog, but I just felt like it was time for an update.
This December could not be more different than last. I remember the frantic end of the semester at culinary school, and diving straight into work at Erwin's Bakery and Dominos over the holidays, a pause on Christmas day, (which I spent K.O-ed on the couch), and then more work, until school began in January. This could explain why I only blogged once, last December.
This year...well, I'm still only employed for part-time work, and pretty much I just do random things during the day.
I wish for once in my life, my schedule could be somewhat balanced. As in not over-working, and not under-working. Siiiigh. One day.
I'm thinking of getting started on some Christmas baking soon. I'm not sure what to make though. Any ideas? So far I'm thinking, gingersnaps, truffles, and maybe some sugar cookies?

The Surest Way to Drive Me Mad

I just played 2 round of Blokus with my brother Tim...and he beat me easily both times. It is so infuriating!
If you haven't played this game before, let me just say that it CAN be fun. Each player gets the same pieces, just different colors, and you have to each try and get more of your pieces on the board. The thing is, all of your pieces have to be attached to each other, and can only attach diagonally.
At the beginning of the game I always think I'm doing well, but then all of a sudden he sneaks a piece through my wall of defense and then it quickly goes downhill from there. Before I know what is happening, I'm left will all these weird and wonky pieces, and all he has to do it fit his little 2's and 3's into whatever crannies are left.

It doesn't help that he mocks me the whole time, and makes fun of my moves, and tells me to hurry up. I don't think I will play with him anymore. Or else I'll just suggest we play "Egyptian War" (it goes by another name too, but I don't remember it), which is just impossible for him to win against me. THEN we'll see how smug he is...

Dishwashing

I think one of the reasons I started cooking, all those years ago (for my family), was because we have a rule* in our house that whoever made dinner doesn't have to clean up. I loved being able to create the meal, and then sit back with a full stomach, and relax as my mess was tidied up.

Its not that I have an aversion to cleaning kitchens. I don't mind clearing the table, wiping counters, sweeping, putting dishes away...but inevitably there are those items that can't be put through the dishwasher, and must be washed by hand.

I do not like washing things by hand.

I need to find a guy like this.

I don't know why this is. When I think about it, its really not so terrible. I just...I don't like it. I think its something to do with dirty water. All the grossness is just swimming around in there. It gives me the shivers. I think this is linked to my pet peeve of dirty dishes sitting in a sink filled with cold dirty dishwater. It drives me CRAZY!!! Just thinking about it makes me mad.

I will gladly dry the dishes. I will gladly fill the dishwasher.
But please...do not make me wash the dishes.

* like all rules in the Coulter household, it is "flexible"...which means I have to (firmly) remind everyone about it, or I will be put to work.

Insomnia

I don't know what it is, but I just haven't been able to sleep much lately.
Maybe it has something to do with the time change? Or full moon? Or...???

Usually, I don't have any problem sleeping. I could get 10 hours every night, circumstances allowing. My body likes sleep. Within a half hour of going to bed, I could be in la-la land.

This past week I've probably been averaging 5 hours sleep/night.

For example:

Last night I was tossing and turning for hours and hours. This morning I felt dead, but got up around 9:30. I was exhausted all day, but resisted napping, telling myself I would finally get a good night's sleep. I crashed on the couch downstairs around 9 PM watching Blue Planet, had the best sleep this week so far, and woke up an hour later. I've been wide awake ever since.

I can't figure it out. I've cut out caffeine from my diet for a while now, so it can't be that.

I've tried drinking sleepy time tea.
I've tried journaling to quiet my mind.
I've tried listening to peaceful music, turned down low.
I've tried reading...
Cleaning my room...
Fewer blankets...
More blankets...
propped up on pillows...
other end of the bed...
pillows on my head...

Nothing has helped. I feel like I'm in a fog all the time.

But I have a theory; and idea that my nap in front of the movie put in my head.

I need the sound of someone talking, as "white noise".

Anyone want to volunteer to read me to sleep?

Of Books and Bookstores, Used and Old

So I had this great idea for a blog post about books today...

And then my mother had to go and blog books first.

But I'm a free spirit. So I'm going to go with my idea anyway. That's what free spirits do.

Here is a tale of two bookstores.

The other day I went into Chapters to drop off a resume. I figured, I like books. I can work at Chapters, wear the silly little uniform, weather the Christmas shopping storm...make a little money.
If you've ever been there, which you probably have, you know that Chapters is large. And its a chain company. And its affiliated with Starbucks. What was I thinking...

The lady at the desk peered over her glasses at me when I asked to speak with the manager, and crisply told me that "we don't accept resumes here." She told me to go online and apply there. Since I'd already checked out their site and hadn't seen anything about applying online, I asked, "at Chapters.ca?", and she answered peevishly, "yes, go to our website."
Bad customer service reeeeally turns me off. You have no idea.
I didn't bother going online to look.
That's just the way I am.

I went into Second Glance Used Books today.
On a mission.
Not to drop off a resume, but to find a rather obscure book that I have wanted for a very long time.

There is something about used bookstores that are so much more lovable than new ones, I think. They are so inviting. Its not like when you walk into a new bookstore and everything is displayed perfectly, and arranged just so. You don't feel slightly awed, scared to touch anything for fear of bending a corner, or tearing a page. It is the difference between entering an immaculate show house, and the home of an old friend.

Second glance had a box of freebies at the door, and as I entered, I was pleased to see it was filled to bursting with all kinds of books...books stacked on the floor, piled on shelves, stuffed in boxes...every book imaginable. Mystery, Horror, Romance, Children's, Fantasy, Self-Help, Plays, Poetry...on and on.

I couldn't help but grin as I made my way through the maze of books and shelves, occasionally tugging one book out from under a pile, like a game of Jenga, or finding an interesting title wedged between two larger books.

There were a couple of friends gathered in the back on couches, hanging out, and there were a few wanders who had just come to browse. Then there was me, trying to find that elusive novel.

I was sidetracked for a while by a pile of retro-looking Tolkien books. Then by an old book of poetry. Finally I found my way into the children's section, and spied a box of Anne of Green Gables books. Aha!

There were old cloth-bound versions of "The Golden Road", and newer shiny editions of the Anne series, with pictures from the movies. And lots and lots of the typical paperbacks by Seal Books publishing.

I trailed my finger down the titles frantically. Was this all there was? Would I never find my book?

Then there it was. Right there, amidst a sea of "Anne of Avonlea"s...

A Tangled Web
By L.M. Montgomery

I snatched it up, as though some stranger would nab it before I got to the till. It was $2.

There were a total of 8 books stuffed under my arm when I unloaded them onto the counter with a beaming smile. I happily handed over the $30 it cost me. One was like new, and the others were old enough to be collectors items, or so I'd like to think.

I really can't help myself when it comes to used bookstores. They are just so awesome.

The girls at the counter were nice and helpful, and I'm definitely going back...with a resume.

Ugh

Been sick for a week now.
Didn't sleep last night.
Had an hour-long nosebleed this morning.
Feeling a bad case of the grumpies.

Must be November.

Photophobia

I recently took a picture of my dearest mother and I, which I thought was kind of nice.
She, however, exclaimed with horror, "Don't you ever show that picture to anyone!!! I look terrible!" You will find it posted below......
kidding, mom. Kidding.

It was a perfectly good picture. While neither of us are extremely photogenic, we were both smiling normally (well she was anyway), the lighting wasn't bad (we were outside)...if anything I should have been the one protesting, since my head was in the foreground, thus appearing abnormally large.

What is it about us that hates pictures of ourselves? Maybe this is something unique to my family, because I sure do it a lot. I cringe and think, is that really what I look like?? Everyone else is like, "that's a good picture of you!" and I'm thinking, "If that's a good picture..."

Are we harder on ourselves, because we don't see ourselves all the time everyday? While everyone else is used to seeing us everyday, we aren't used to seeing ourselves unless we're posing in front of the mirror (not that I do that...)?

Are we simply not aware of what we look like 'normally'?

Does anyone else get that?

Random Updates, and a Helpful Trick

Update #1:
When I returned from Ireland, a few of my houseplants were, shall we say, in need of some TLC. Some (like my English Ivy...that's a post for another day) were beyond help, and I feared my Jasmine was among them. Once the dead branches were pruned, and the crispy leaves bushed aside, there remained but a few sharp brown twigs sticking out of the pot. You can see them in this picture. You can also see that it has been brought back to health, and three lively green shoots have sprung up since then. Its been a long journey, and I wondered if it would ever return to its former glory. This plant used to be quite bushy and frequently dotted with fragrant white blossoms. Well, today I celebrate because one of its 3 buds have opened, and I have a beautiful white bloom!
I am very happy.

Update #2:
Its been one week since I got (my warts) tortured at the walk-in clinic.
They are not nearly as sore as they were, and are now beginning to darken.
The doctor said they should be gone within 2 weeks, so they have seven days to skedaddle.

Ps. I hear putting Apple Cider Vinegar on warts is supposed to get rid of them...maybe I should have tried that. It might have been less painful!

Speaking of Apple Cider Vinegar....

Helpful Trick:
We get bombarded with fruit flies at our house every now and then.
And lately its been more now than then.
I've found a way to get rid of them, and it really works!

I got a shallow dish, poured in some Apple Cider Vinegar (the fruity smell attracts them), and covered it with plastic cling wrap. Then I poked holes with a fork.

The flies smell the vinegar, climb in the holes, and then eventually fall into the liquid and drown because they can't crawl out!

The picture shows the second batch of victims. The first batch was even more successful!

Student Survival

I lived through my culinary encounter.
I actually got so nervous when I walked into the building, I almost didn't go into his office. This feeling that I was a disappointment, a traitor even, was unbelievably strong, and I didn't want to face the conflict ahead.
At 12:30 the cafeteria was buzzing, which was really good, since when I started last September it wasn't nearly as full that early in the year. I like to think this is because we impressed the campus with our skillz last year, and now they know the caf actually exists.
Anyway I got the dreaded conversation over with, and it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. It was nice to hear that they wanted me back, but I don't think that is in my future. I got my cheque, had a delicious lunch (Pad Thai, served up by one of my friends from the class under me), and saw some old classmates. It was nice, and I walked out $75 richer (uniform damage deposit).

Unfortunately, other student-related issues have come up. Turns out my student loan is not satisfied with my soul, it wants my firstborn as well.
The friggen retarded BC Student Loan sent me a bill today, telling me its time to pay up! It's a relatively small sum they are asking for, which wouldn't be so bad-- if I hadn't already paid every last freaking dollar to them on September 2!
This is soooo frustrating. I have no idea where they got this number from, but I don't want to pay it, and now I have to drive out to the bank and get it all sorted out, and I just KNOW they are gonna tear the money from my cold dead hands. I'll stammer and protest, and they will spout off their garbley snarbally nonsense and in the end I will have to pay.
Stupid!
I really hate student loans, and I am sorry I ever got one.

Can't Even Think of a Good Title

Its over.
I've become that Boring Blogger.
I'm inconsistent, and when I actually hunker down and rap out a few words, its dull and uninteresting even to me...especially to me. I couldn't string together a few funny sentences if I tried, which I am just too unmotivated to do. The only reason I'm writing anything now is because of this cloud of blogging guilt that is hovering over me, raining down a storm of oblogation (hey I just came up with a new blogging term...maybe this was worth it after all?) whenever I sit at the computer.
Its not like I've been busy. And most of the time I blog best when I have waaaay too much time on my hands, and nothing really big is happening. Its the little things that can be fun to blog about.
Now I'm just sitting here, staring at the screen, willing it to inspire me.
Uuuuuuugh.

Its not working.
Sorry I wasted your time. But did I really? I mean, if you are here reading this, you know how meaningless my blog is, and you probably weren't expecting much anyway. You probably WANT to waste some time, right? RIGHT?
Is it worth clicking the little orange publishing button? I'm tempted to just delete this whole thing, and leave my blog un-updated until I actually have something to say.
But that would be against my policy.
I'm not quite sure what that policy is, but I am sure that deleting useless posts is against it.
So it is decided.

Have a nice day.

Forked

I'm at the fork in the road again.

I hate the fork in the road.

It means making decisions, and it means I have to decide what I want. And what I want may or may not exist in real life.

That is, a job that I love.

Last year I thought, "I will cook! Cooking will be great! I will love to cook!"
And I DO love to cook. But I am sometimes not a huge fan of working in a kitchen, sometimes. I definitely do NOT love line cooking. And frankly, I'm not enough of a perfectionist to go very far in it.

So I've crossed cooking as a career off my list.

And now that I'm not going back to school, I have to start looking at other options for this Fall.

Sometimes I think I want a job where I do not have to deal with people at all. People can be annoying, and demanding, and rude, and I don't like dealing with people like that. I just want to tell them to get over themselves and get a life. And that really wouldn't go over so well in a customer service type of job.

Other times I think I would go even crazier if I worked alone. Sometimes solitude isn't very healthy for me. I need other people around even if I don't interact with them, or else I just get really...weird. I can't explain it...all I know is, it isn't good.

I can't sit at a desk all day or I will be in physical pain 24/7, and if I'm running around on my feet all day, that can be just as bad. Am I just being difficult?

I want a job where it isn't just a job. I want to be of help to someone in some meaningful way. But I also want to be able to come home from work and not think about it. Is this realistic?

Right now I've just started working part-time as commercial janitor...its pretty mindless, simple work, but it does require attention to detail which I will have to improve in myself! For now, its ok, and it pays pretty good compared to what I'm used to. But its just a bandaid on my problem...I obviously can't/won't do this for the rest of my life. So what am I going to do?
I'm so envious of people who are ambitious and focused and get into what they want to do right out of highschool. They are already well on their way to accomplishing their goals...and I'm still drifting. I haven't really completed anything since highschool. Am I just going to wander aimlessly through life forever? I have even less of an idea of what I want to do now, than I did then! I just know more things that I don't want to do :P

I keep hoping that one day I will see something and get my "aha!" moment, but I'm beginning to wonder if there will realistically ever be a job that I'm excited about. Ever felt that way? Do you have a job (or know of a job) that gets you excited? What is it and why do you love it?

To Do

After kind of slacking off and not doing much more than (sort of) unpacking on Monday, I decided to be good and get things done yesterday. It went well.
But I realized my list is longer than I thought. There are those other To Do's that I didn't write down because, well, I don't want TO DO them. I'm such a huge procrastinator.
So today is dedicated to those unpleasant, unwanted chores.
I need some kind of reward for myself if I get them all done.

A Loss Keenly Felt

It was a great day and I was having fun.
Spending time with a wonderful friend on a beautiful beach.
The Ocean was warm, and we dipped in our toes, and then waded.
I fell in, and decided to go swimming.
We tossed our things on the shore and frolicked in the salty water, seaweed, and sand.
Splashing, dancing away from fish and crabs, laughing...never realizing the sinister force at work.
Time passes quickly when you're having fun. We finally turn back.
Where are our things?
A little worry grows. Did we leave them further up? Did we drift away from them? Did someone take our stuff?
I think it was here.
Karissa plunges a hand into the murky shallows, and retrieves a sopping, seaweedy mess.
Conflict of emotions:
Hurray we found our stuff! My glasses are not washed away!
Oh no! My camera...!
I open the case and a flood of seawater comes out.
The lens is swimming with liquid destruction.
Foul tide! Sneaky and silent and lethal as a ninja, Poseidon has claimed another victim.
No last pictures of friends around the lodge, no candid snaps at the upcoming wedding...
There will be a gaping hole, a festering wound, in my scrapbook of 2009.
This will be a loss keenly felt.

Sauna

It has been so hot here these days.
Its reminding me why I don't miss Kamloops summers. Because they are always this hot.
And I can't stand it.
I am not a hot weather person. I get cranky and irritable and my brain begins to melt out my ears.
Its especially awful when you work in the kitchen where the ovens are blasting hot air, and there are open flames on the stove, and the dishwasher is pumping out steam, and all you can think about it is the possibility of spontaneous combustion, and the sweat trickling down your back.
I've been drinking so much water this week, but I'm always thirsty, and my throat is always dry.
My skin is permanently sticky and its grossing me out! Not to mention having dreads in this weather is like wearing a perma-tuque. I guess that will be nice in the Fall...

Sorry for being such a whiner.

But...

Today it was 39 degrees in the shade.

Outside.

Not in the kitchen.