I've seen the needle and the damage done
A little part of it in everyone...
or
Where have I been?
Good question.
At work - a lot. And I have a few other little projects that I’m trying to do. Heaven knows it isn’t because I’m throwing myself into household maintenance. Work is always interesting - never the same day twice. But since I’ve been putting in more hours I come home all achy and irritable from sitting so much. Shame on me for laughing at the former Wisconsin Senator William Proxmire’s stand-up desk. (It’s not an urban legend. I saw it when I visited his office in the seventies.) No kidding...sitting is a killer. (Yeah, there are other killers, too. This having been one of those weeks that I started to think that the funeral choir should add The Needle and the Damage Done to its repertoire.)

Yesterday started out all wrong. I just wanted a strawberry smoothy to energize me and soothe my agitated stomach. So why couldn’t I find the business end of the blender? And why did all that other junk (including about 25 pieces of antique sterling and my strawberry bowl with the holes in the bottom) have to fall on my head? What a way to start the last day of a long week. I shouldn’t be complaining. I like the job. It’s air-conditioned. (except for the morning when we couldn’t figure out why no one was quite comfortable - until someone realized the thermostat was turned to HEAT) I’m having one of those weeks when I have trouble being “in the moment.” And no matter where I am I think I should be somewhere else doing something else. So I’m not doing such a great job with anything. Now that I think of it....I was uptown and stopped in at work to do a few things. But I forgot to check the sacristy to see how many sick call hosts ( 1 1/8” diameter versus 1 3/8”) we had in the cabinet. That’s not 100% my job, but the compulsive part of me wants to stay on top of things. Maybe I’ll go in and check before Mass tomorrow morning. And I thought my mother was out of her mind for waking up in the middle of the night to remember details in need of attention at her job doing newspaper paste-up and proof-reading. Like mother, like daughter.

Although I did get to sleep in this morning. Rick took the boys to the opening to a new Apple Store at a nearby mall. Free shirts and a chance to mingle with the similarly nerdy. Not to mention the super-nerdy types who were reading their new Harry Potter while waiting in line for the Apple Store to open. I should have gone along. All I got for some extra sleep time was stiff joints and a sense that I was even farther behind. So I spent a little time on the NordicTrack. And then got caught up with the latest Vanity Fair (I’m obviously stalling on something if I’m dedicating my time to reading about the scandals behind the Jimmy Choo shoe empire. I mean, really, I think any shoes over $20 - not including medically prescribed orthopedic shoes - are ridiculous. Reading about women who would pay $900 for a pair of shoes is like reading about alien abductions. Strange. Not especially credible. But I guess it happens. The shoe purchases, that is.) and then I took a little nap.