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Jul. 2nd, 2015 09:32 amI haven't even been up for an hour, and I'm already cursing Scott (he's at work, so he, of course, has no idea). There's a pile of stuff on the couch next to where I usually sit. In that pile, I had some important papers that I really, really needed to deal with today (I should have dealt with them a week or even two ago but anxiety). Scott rearranged the pile, pulling out two of the three important papers. The third one is completely gone. I've gone through every bit of the pile, and it simply is not there. It, of course, is the one bit I can't do anything without. The other two are replaceable. The Social Security forms would require some hoop jumping to get again, but I could do it.
The most likely place for the missing paper to be, assuming Scott didn't put it somewhere 'safe' is under the couch. I still can't go down on my knees without really hurting my ankle, so I can't look. I'll have to get Cordelia to look when she finally emerges from her room around noon. I wanted to get this dratted thing into the mail around 10:00.
On the bright side, my ankle seems to have recovered from last weekend. Now I have to figure out how much walking I can do without hurting it and do that much every day. I want to be able to walk to and from the bus by the end of the summer. I don't think that's an unreasonable goal.
I haven't heard anything further from my sister. I wish she did email so that I could talk to her that way. She does Facebook, but I'm not on there, and she has asked everyone to avoid talking about the breast cancer there. Calling her doesn't really work either because she never, ever answers her phone. It always goes to voice mail. She does, sometimes, call back, so maybe I should call her anyway. I know it's too soon for her to have the genetic test results, but I'm wondering if she's had the MRI yet.
I'm a little worried that our dishwasher might be dying. It's twelve years old. The last load of dishes, some of the stuff on the top shelf didn't get clean at all. The plastic stuff was fine, but all of the ceramic stuff had a coating of grit stuck to it. I couldn't see it, but I could feel it. The stuff on the bottom seems to have come out fine, at least.
We can't afford to replace the dishwasher, and it's not necessary enough for us to feel justified in taking more money from Cordelia's Social Security. Scott's suggestion is that, if it really is dying, we start hand washing dishes and using the dishwasher as a drying rack.
I'm not enthusiastic about this, in general, but a lot of my concerns are annoyance level things (like the fact that, to use the dishwasher as a drying rack, I will have to swap which parts of the sink I use for washing and rinsing. We have two basins, and all of my life, I have used the left one for washing and the right one for rinsing. The dishwasher is to the left of the sink, so washing on the right and rinsing on the left make considerably more sense). The thing that isn't annoyance level is the time that will be involved in dish washing. Scott doesn't have it, and my ankle may not tolerate it. That leaves Cordelia to wash dishes.
Scott did not end up working late last night, but he was playing phone tag with the guy from HR at the place he interviewed for yesterday. Scott waited for a return call until about 5:30 then got in the shower. Naturally, the guy called back shortly after that. We missed the call because Scott always, always, keeps the ringer off on his cell phone. It the thing had actually rung, I could have answered it and gotten Scott to take the call. I don't think he'd actually turned on the water at that point.
Somehow or another, it was past 7:00 by the time Scott emerged from the bathroom. I didn't really register the time, unfortunately for me. Scott didn't start looking at what to grill until some time later. He was hoping to make turkey burgers but discovered that we don't have any pre-made. We do have some ground turkey, but we didn't have time to do something with that last night. Scott decided to grill some crab legs. He got them on the table at about 8:05 by which time I couldn't safely eat them, not if I wanted to go to bed on time.
If I'd been paying attention to the time, I'd have gotten myself food at 7:30 rather than waiting for Scott. I don't know what I'd have eaten; we seem to be low on easily prepared things. I would have found something. As it was, I still had to eat in order to take my evening medications, but all I dared have was some plain bread. Even margarine would have been risky, so I didn't put any on.
I'm thinking to set myself a time warning on my laptop to notify me when it's, say, 7:15, so that this doesn't happen again. I don't hate the foods that are bland enough to be safe after 8:00. It's just frustrating to be eating bread when everybody else is eating crab.
The most likely place for the missing paper to be, assuming Scott didn't put it somewhere 'safe' is under the couch. I still can't go down on my knees without really hurting my ankle, so I can't look. I'll have to get Cordelia to look when she finally emerges from her room around noon. I wanted to get this dratted thing into the mail around 10:00.
On the bright side, my ankle seems to have recovered from last weekend. Now I have to figure out how much walking I can do without hurting it and do that much every day. I want to be able to walk to and from the bus by the end of the summer. I don't think that's an unreasonable goal.
I haven't heard anything further from my sister. I wish she did email so that I could talk to her that way. She does Facebook, but I'm not on there, and she has asked everyone to avoid talking about the breast cancer there. Calling her doesn't really work either because she never, ever answers her phone. It always goes to voice mail. She does, sometimes, call back, so maybe I should call her anyway. I know it's too soon for her to have the genetic test results, but I'm wondering if she's had the MRI yet.
I'm a little worried that our dishwasher might be dying. It's twelve years old. The last load of dishes, some of the stuff on the top shelf didn't get clean at all. The plastic stuff was fine, but all of the ceramic stuff had a coating of grit stuck to it. I couldn't see it, but I could feel it. The stuff on the bottom seems to have come out fine, at least.
We can't afford to replace the dishwasher, and it's not necessary enough for us to feel justified in taking more money from Cordelia's Social Security. Scott's suggestion is that, if it really is dying, we start hand washing dishes and using the dishwasher as a drying rack.
I'm not enthusiastic about this, in general, but a lot of my concerns are annoyance level things (like the fact that, to use the dishwasher as a drying rack, I will have to swap which parts of the sink I use for washing and rinsing. We have two basins, and all of my life, I have used the left one for washing and the right one for rinsing. The dishwasher is to the left of the sink, so washing on the right and rinsing on the left make considerably more sense). The thing that isn't annoyance level is the time that will be involved in dish washing. Scott doesn't have it, and my ankle may not tolerate it. That leaves Cordelia to wash dishes.
Scott did not end up working late last night, but he was playing phone tag with the guy from HR at the place he interviewed for yesterday. Scott waited for a return call until about 5:30 then got in the shower. Naturally, the guy called back shortly after that. We missed the call because Scott always, always, keeps the ringer off on his cell phone. It the thing had actually rung, I could have answered it and gotten Scott to take the call. I don't think he'd actually turned on the water at that point.
Somehow or another, it was past 7:00 by the time Scott emerged from the bathroom. I didn't really register the time, unfortunately for me. Scott didn't start looking at what to grill until some time later. He was hoping to make turkey burgers but discovered that we don't have any pre-made. We do have some ground turkey, but we didn't have time to do something with that last night. Scott decided to grill some crab legs. He got them on the table at about 8:05 by which time I couldn't safely eat them, not if I wanted to go to bed on time.
If I'd been paying attention to the time, I'd have gotten myself food at 7:30 rather than waiting for Scott. I don't know what I'd have eaten; we seem to be low on easily prepared things. I would have found something. As it was, I still had to eat in order to take my evening medications, but all I dared have was some plain bread. Even margarine would have been risky, so I didn't put any on.
I'm thinking to set myself a time warning on my laptop to notify me when it's, say, 7:15, so that this doesn't happen again. I don't hate the foods that are bland enough to be safe after 8:00. It's just frustrating to be eating bread when everybody else is eating crab.
