Today I had a headache at work and Excedrin was completely ineffective, as was caffeine. Not sure what was up. The day improved, though, when I left the art building. The afternoon made me happy, even. I went down to Sunflower Market (AKA “The Happy Place”) and bought fixings for homemade trail mix. I don’t know why I’ve never done this — maybe I prefer to pay too much for too many sunflower seeds in my trail mix? Anyway, I was inspired by Tim, and ended up making a fabulous mix of cashews, peanuts, almonds, golden raisins, soy nuts, and mango pieces — all the good stuff without too many raisins or walnuts or pumpkin or sunflower seeds. AND it cost about half as much per pound as the other stuff. Very smart.
From Sunflower I headed home to print off an e-mail so I could pick up some stuff at REI for me and Erica and our hike this weekend. I bought a shirt that won’t kill me because it’s not cotton (and cotton kills, I hear). And a cool backpack, which seems a little too big, still, but which will work just fine nonetheless. After REI, I headed down 17th street, and loved the fact that I was in my little car, driving between an outdoor adventure store and a fabulous music store. After spending all day in front of a computer, dealing with pixel and metadata issues, I found myself listening to a pretty fantastic mixed tape (as in cassette tape) my ex-boyfriend made for me a few years back with the windows rolled down, singing along during rush hour traffic, weaving through monstrous buildings and people in suits, thinking about tomorrow’s drive into the mountains and subsequent hike. There aren’t many places in the world where I can feel so urban one afternoon, and head into the hills (the 14,000 foot hills) the next. I really like it.
And it feels especially good because I’ve been a jerk this week. I felt like I ruined a surprise birthday party (happy late birthday, Beth!). I feel like I betrayed my hiking partner on my hike without her last weekend. I feel like I’m not doing enough at work. The truth, though, is that I didn’t know the birthday party was a surprise until too late, and it was still fun. I did kind of betray my hiking partner by doing a fourteener a week before we were going to, but I had a good time and feel more prepared for this week’s hike, and I think it will be okay, and I’ll still enjoy the hike just as much this weekend. And today at work I was thinking about how I said last week I’d like to know how to do more — when would I do more? It’s not like I’m sitting there idly waiting for something to fall into my lap to occupy me. No, I’m actually always a little overwhelmed with things to do. Even if I were an SQL expert, time spent working on that end of the database would take away from everything else… Like figuring out how to get the changes to take on the Cornerstone-protected computers in the classroom.
Last week in a professor’s office I noticed a little note she had taped to her computer monitor: “Don’t panic, you’re doing fine!” Did I already blog about this? I think I just told Sam about it when I requested that we start IMing each other words of encouragement throughout the work day. Examples:
9:49 AM Sam: Relax, you’re doing fine. And I love your hair today.
9:54 AM me: It looks hot unstyled and pulled back into a librarian-esque bun, doesn’t it?
you’re not so bad yourself today — are those new socks?
9:55 AM Sam: (not wearing socks) no, they’re new flip flops though!
The funny thing about Sam is that I think we’ve seen each other a total of four times. In our whole lives. And yet we’ve developed this weird friendship through IM. (This explains the irony of the “love your hair” comment, just in case you needed explanation) (and I don’t IM all day at work — I say this just moments after writing that I am never idle at work… Sigh… If you’re a Gen-Y-er or younger, you’ll understand).
Anyway, back on track: the rest of the night involved buying a couple of new cds — Okkervil River and John Vanderslice. I panicked in Walgreens trying to find a good birthday card at the last minute (I hate cards), but settled on one that said:
“Where’s your birthday party at?”
“Don’t end a sentence with a preposition.”
“Where’s your birthday party at, bitch?”
It’s crude and juvenile, but it made me laugh. I would have bought another one for Christopher, who says things like “with what may I help you today?” but there was only one. Then I went to the not-so-surprise birthday party and had a good time. And now I’m here, thinking that I should have been in bed an hour ago…