Stream of Consciousness (Did you know that Blogger actually limits how long your title can be?)

I don't want to call this post "Life Update" so I think I'm going to go with Stream of Consciousness induced by two days of being sick and couped up in my apartment

The past two days I have called in sick to work. Don't be alarmed, it's nothing major but still, work was not the place for me to be. I've slept badly the past three nights and I'm hoping I get a better set of winks tonight. I have to work tomorrow, my team has a meeting. I'm also sure the emails have flooded my inbox and that my desk is buried in paperwork. A project that I want rolled out by October 1 is on the list of priorities. Steve's back from vacation and I've spoken to him twice on the phone, telling him I wouldn't be there, but I haven't got to ask him how his trip was. Yuck.

Besides the bad sleep, I've felt yuck around my abdomen, which is why I haven't slept well. I'm going no farther to explain.

Sitting at home, staring at walls, drives be absolutely crazy. Once in awhile, I'll get a boost of energy and at least have been fairly productive during those bursts. I've reorganized one of my hall closets (things actually fit now - no more spilling out into the hallway!), emptied some boxes for DM to use in moving (read as cleared up my living room quite a bit), and organized my scrapping area. Besides DM's piles of stickers and paper set haphazardly, it looks pretty good. When DM comes over this weekend, she'll be pleasantly surprised at the room in that area.

I have been in the process of getting rid of piles and piles of excess scrapbooking magazines (parts without layout ideas) and hauled quite a few bags of garbage to the dumpster. There was a bad moment when one of the bags ripped open in the lobby and I had to run back upstairs to get more bags and then pick up random bits of paper. It's all that odd cardstock/shiny stuff and I don't have a place to recylce it here. Bah! At least when the bag ripped it wasn't full of rotten food and liquid.

About the only interesting (and that's debatable) part of these past two days was when my cell phone started beeping to tell me someone text messaged me. It was not a person I expected. Although, I should have because it's been a few months since he called. I only know one person who would ever send a message stating, "Yo yo how are you? doing" It's just great being in someone's little black book phone. Give it 6 more months and I'll hear from him again. He's in that stage of his life that I would refer to as the "job hopping stage." Former banker he now boasts working in sales for a construction company. A year ago, he was closing on mortgages for meth addicts. I think this new job is a step up. Maybe. The conversation over text message was kept rather short and he pretty much caught me up on his life. I didn't offer any info on mine.

I found an Amazon.com gift certificate that I had and used it. To accidentally purchase a DVD set I already own. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. I think the stress finally got to me. In my defense, I had originally planned on purchasing the item from Amazon with this certificate and then bought it in a store because I didn't have it. When I checked out online, I forgot to remove it from my cart. Damn.

I'm thinking about doing another post tonight for thirteen Thursday. I'm thinking. If you see it, I did it. How's that for a deal?

What does one do with 300+ floppy disks for an "A" drive when the last four computers that person has owned has not been compatible? I suppose I could purchase an external "A" drive and see what is actually on these disks, but I doubt the files are not even compatible to my system. Well, I suppose I can do the same thing with the disks that I've done for the last 8 years: put them back in a box at the bottom of the closet.

At one point in time, I thought that saving every single plastic bag that scrapping supplies came in would prove useful. What was useful was the actual mass organization system that I bought. Say goodbye to little plastic bags. I did.

I have no idea My father is a pack rat. That's where I got this problem I seem to have. Going through things the past two days, I have found more stuff that I thought I might need someday, you know, if the world was destroyed and I'd be forced to live in my apartment with no option to leave for thirteen years. Besides only having about a month's worth of toilet paper, I have enough supplies to entertain myself and keep myself smelling nice and fresh for years. The closet seemed to have 5 bottles of lotion (which I can't stand to put on), 3 bottles of body spray, 22 bottles of nail polish, 15 eye liner pencils, four boxes of bandages, 3 boxes of jewelry, over 100 scrunchies, and at least 7 bottles of hair goo. Now, I use the same three scrunchies over and over, rarely wear jewelry, and wear make up about once a year. The bandages seem to be the most useful things in the closet. ARGH! Don't get me started on my kitchen cupboards. No one ever needs 8 cans of creamed corn.

At my dad's on Monday, I found a box from my college days. In it was a 3-ring binder containing EVERY SINGLE report I wrote during my grade school years. Just in case I ever need to show someone the report I wrote on a Mary Higgins Clark book in the 7th grade.

I am pretty sure this is a disease people. And it is genetic. Because I do have in my possession a report my dad wrote in the 4th grade about outer space. Before men walked on the moon. Yep, that's my family.

Speaking of my family, I got a bit of news recently. My grandfather (I've known about this for awhile actually but haven't mentioned it) has some form of cancer and has been going in for chemo. 99.9% of cases like his, caught when his was caught, are cured. So, besides his boredom of being hooked up to a machine for a few hours and having his already thin hair fall out, not much is different. Except the fact that my grandmother now drives him to and from the hospital. That's where my whole family is worried. This woman got stuck on a cloverleaf for over 20 minutes one time because she doesn't know how to merge. I hope she's taking side streets.

My cousin, Chris, has been going in for dialysis for a few years now. He's decided it is time to go back on the list for a kidney donor. I got an email that said something about a bovine implant for a stint? I think that's right. Interesting. I like Chris. He really is a good guy.

His brother, and also my cousin, Matt sold his house and made quite a bit of profit on it. Good for him I guess. He needs something happy. I say this because his wife left him for another man, twenty years her senior. He's got two kids and I've met one of them. I happened to be in Waterloo the day that kid was born. I tend to forget their names. This is absolutely terrible! I was going through pictures and remembering what it was like to actually spend time with this side of my family. They were cool when I was little. Now I like my aunt, Diane, and my cousin, Chris.

Months ago, I purchased, "The Colorado Kid," an audio book written by Stephen King. I bought it because I love Stephen King and hadn't seen the book in stores. I listened to it today. It's a mystery, no horror, from the master of storytelling. It was pretty good and I could definitely tell it was a King story.

My next class has started. Finance Part Deux. This one will actually get into present value tables and I'm not looking forward to it. Final grades for the first torture session class have not been distributed yet, but unless I got marked down during the last week, I should come away with an "A". I was at 100% at the end of week 4. I slammed the slackers idiots my former group members in the evaluation. I only consider that fair since I pretty much wrote all the papers and had to edit them too. I hate them all. I still hate them all. (By the way, this is meant to be funny. While they did nothing, I am done with the class and ready to let it go. Unlike the grudge I still hold over my cousin James for his provoking me when I was 8 or 9, causing me to lose patience with him after 20 minutes, hitting him with the heel of a stilleto in his arm, which my mom made me apologize for and make him a sandwich. He deserved it! Ellen even said so. Bah! See, the group members are getting off easy. They're just getting a grade higher than that of what they deserve.)

Well, that's enough rambling for tonight. I have decided not to complete a Thirteen Thursday post. Call it laziness, call it deciding that I am going to have something of content on this site again soon. One of these days. Maybe in 2008.