Apparently, my pipes are frozen or a pipe is frozen or something, because when I turned on the shower this morning (hoping for a brief reprieve from the cold by the way of a really, REALLY hot shower), a few drops of freezing cold water dripped out. . .and that was it. I said. . .well, what I said wasn't particularly lady-like, but then I realized that every other source of water in my apartment worked just fine (bathroom sink, toilet, kitchen sink) but it was just that one. Of course. If it's not functioning by the time I get home tonight, I'll probably have to see if I can take a shower at Carrie's. But that was just annoying.
And then! I'd almost forgotten about this, but I was really glad today that my epic, extreme fear of birds, which has since been basically dissuaded, isn't as bad as it used to be, because while I was locking the door to my apartment, I heard a faint rustling at the bottom of the Stairway of Doom. My first thought was, "Great. Crazy Lady's outside, and I'm going to have to talk to her/be yelled at by her/have her tell me how I'm the noisiest tenant ever/etc. I'm not in the mood for this."
So I started down the stairs and stopped when I realized there was a bird sitting on the very bottom stair, giving me a "You lookin' at me?" kind of look. Seriously, it looked pissed. The door was closed, so the best I can figure is that my neighbor inadvertently let the bird in last night when he came in and closed the door behind him.
I'm having this stand-off with this bird. It's looking at me, I'm looking at it. I take a step down the stairs, and he FREAKS OUT, flapping and flying everywhere. I'm reminded of why I was so afraid of birds. He lands on the door frame (I'm still not sure how he was holding on, actually) and stands there looking at me again. I take another step, and he freaks out again. I duck and cover, because I don't care what you say, I remain convinced that it is possible for a bird to decide to attack a person.
I finally decide that going to work is a good option for the day, man up, duck and cover, and take the rest of the stairs. Quickly. Bird FREAKS OUT and flies past my head, up the stairs, as I take a flying leap out the door. I left the door open so he could get out, though. I just hope he didn't scare the bejeezus out of my neighbor.
I have not gotten nearly enough work done today, which is why I'll probably be here for another hour or so. Friday is the day I should get the most done, but I just wasn't feeling it today. I'll come in either tomorrow or Sunday (probably Sunday, so I have some company) and then finish everything on Monday (deadline day). I hate how lame my cover stories have been here recently, but I've got a cool Girl Scout cookie one coming up in a couple weeks, and when the spring and summer months finally hit, I'll have events to put on the front.
Coming up, I also have the bridal tab (March), Home and Garden (April), Graduation (June) and Choose to Refuse in August. I've never been much for looking in the long-term, but I got the schedule yesterday, and I know if I don't start thinking about them now, I won't remember, and the deadlines will sneak up on me.
OK, so I'm home now after, like, 7 hours. Carrie and I went to IHOP for dinner, and I actually ended up bringing the copy of my publication with the column I wrote about that IHOP and giving it to the manager. As it turned out, a couple that was there at the same time Carrie and I were had told the manager about the article. It's amazing how stuff like that happens. I, occasionally, love my job.
Some stuff has been going on recently that has brought me, in a rather violent fashion, into remembering aspects of my childhood that I hadn't thought about, hadn't cared to think about, for quite some time. (That sounds more dramatic than I needed it to. I'm not talking about any kind of weird abuse or anything in my past. There was none. I'm talking more on an emotional level.) I've thought about stuff and remembered things and actually, that in combination with that short story I found the other night, has made me write again. Fiction, I mean. I started writing another short the other night, and it's a lot slower goings than writing used to be for me, but that's because fiction hasn't been something I've been focusing on, I think. I may put it up after I finish it. Possibly.
It's 8 degrees outside right now. And, incidentally, my shower is still not working. I'm going to have to go elsewhere for my shower tomorrow. Probably to Carrie's.
I'm going to head to bed.
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