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Nov. 8th, 2015 10:27 amOur DVR is says ’1980’ on the display where it usually shows the time. It hasn’t changed in the hour I’ve been up, so it’s not trying to display the time on a 24 hour clock and getting it wrong. I haven’t felt energetic enough to get up and fiddle with the remotes to see if I can figure out what’s going on.
I think I’m going to have to remind Scott that he’s got a big DVD set out from the library and only has another week to finish it. It’s The Day the Universe Changed which he has seen before and loves. I know he was really looking forward to watching it. He just gets into watching things on his laptop, things he’s less interested in but that are immediately available wherever he happens to be.
The missing package that was supposedly delivered on Friday turned up with the regular mail delivery yesterday. I guess the post office lied about delivering it. Unfortunately, yesterday’s mail also brought the return of a package we’d sent out a few weeks ago in an attempt to return a CD I’d bought that wouldn’t play in any machine we own. I’d printed the return label via Amazon, but the package had a hand written note on it saying that there was nobody by that name at that address. When I complained to the company, they decided to refund my money without me sending the dratted thing back. I really don’t know what to do with the CD now. It’s not as if we can use it.
I woke up about 8:00 this morning for some reason. I was quite thoroughly awake, but I stayed in bed for a while because I was comfortable, with nothing at all hurting. That happens once in a while, and right now, it’s particularly unusual.
But I have treatment today, so I thought getting a start on the day was a good idea. It takes me a while to get spun up and dressed and all. I’m still putting off the getting dressed part because pretty much anything touching my breast hurts. It really is like a very, very bad sunburn. I have eleven treatments left and then two or three weeks of feeling really terrible. I’m not sure if I’ll be feeling better at the end of that time or if I’ll gradually feel better starting at the end of that time.
I’m regretting having only one day off from treatment this week. Weekends really do help. Of course, next week, I’ll have three days off because they’re servicing the machines on Friday. I’m looking forward to that.
The mystery text message came from the person I thought it did. She’s the mother of the two kids Cordelia used to play with all the time. They lived about six houses away but moved away last spring when their landlord sold their house. They decided against driving their kids back and forth to this school (I’m not sure if they even realized that that was an option), so Cordelia hasn’t seen those kids in months. She decided to go over there on a playdate today from noon until 3:00.
Scott wants to go to Target today to see if he can find some microwave safe bowls that aren’t too ugly. We have eight bowls, but we’ve been going through them very rapidly, rapidly enough that Cordelia and I have to either wash bowls by hand or eat something other than what we would normally. We run the dishwasher every three or four days, depending on when it’s full. I found some bowls I liked on Amazon, but they had a lot of reviews complaining about breakage during shipping. Scott would rather go to Target. He wanted me to go, too, since I’m the one who knows what we need. I had to point out the I really, really can’t do something like that right now. Somehow, that hadn’t gotten through to him. He considers it a small thing, but right now, walking as far as the school would wipe me out.
I got my email inbox down from 190 messages to about 95 messages yesterday. I deleted more than I answered, and I sorted a lot of messages into other folders (including thirty messages into a new folder called 'Unanswered reviews').
The Boston Market website is pretty awful. A friend wants to buy us a dinner from there, and I’m having a hard time figuring out what’s available. I think I’ve got it down now, but it took going in and actually setting up an order to find out what the options were. Scott and I have a different list of sides we’d like than Cordelia does, so we’re having to compromise.
I think I’m going to have to remind Scott that he’s got a big DVD set out from the library and only has another week to finish it. It’s The Day the Universe Changed which he has seen before and loves. I know he was really looking forward to watching it. He just gets into watching things on his laptop, things he’s less interested in but that are immediately available wherever he happens to be.
The missing package that was supposedly delivered on Friday turned up with the regular mail delivery yesterday. I guess the post office lied about delivering it. Unfortunately, yesterday’s mail also brought the return of a package we’d sent out a few weeks ago in an attempt to return a CD I’d bought that wouldn’t play in any machine we own. I’d printed the return label via Amazon, but the package had a hand written note on it saying that there was nobody by that name at that address. When I complained to the company, they decided to refund my money without me sending the dratted thing back. I really don’t know what to do with the CD now. It’s not as if we can use it.
I woke up about 8:00 this morning for some reason. I was quite thoroughly awake, but I stayed in bed for a while because I was comfortable, with nothing at all hurting. That happens once in a while, and right now, it’s particularly unusual.
But I have treatment today, so I thought getting a start on the day was a good idea. It takes me a while to get spun up and dressed and all. I’m still putting off the getting dressed part because pretty much anything touching my breast hurts. It really is like a very, very bad sunburn. I have eleven treatments left and then two or three weeks of feeling really terrible. I’m not sure if I’ll be feeling better at the end of that time or if I’ll gradually feel better starting at the end of that time.
I’m regretting having only one day off from treatment this week. Weekends really do help. Of course, next week, I’ll have three days off because they’re servicing the machines on Friday. I’m looking forward to that.
The mystery text message came from the person I thought it did. She’s the mother of the two kids Cordelia used to play with all the time. They lived about six houses away but moved away last spring when their landlord sold their house. They decided against driving their kids back and forth to this school (I’m not sure if they even realized that that was an option), so Cordelia hasn’t seen those kids in months. She decided to go over there on a playdate today from noon until 3:00.
Scott wants to go to Target today to see if he can find some microwave safe bowls that aren’t too ugly. We have eight bowls, but we’ve been going through them very rapidly, rapidly enough that Cordelia and I have to either wash bowls by hand or eat something other than what we would normally. We run the dishwasher every three or four days, depending on when it’s full. I found some bowls I liked on Amazon, but they had a lot of reviews complaining about breakage during shipping. Scott would rather go to Target. He wanted me to go, too, since I’m the one who knows what we need. I had to point out the I really, really can’t do something like that right now. Somehow, that hadn’t gotten through to him. He considers it a small thing, but right now, walking as far as the school would wipe me out.
I got my email inbox down from 190 messages to about 95 messages yesterday. I deleted more than I answered, and I sorted a lot of messages into other folders (including thirty messages into a new folder called 'Unanswered reviews').
The Boston Market website is pretty awful. A friend wants to buy us a dinner from there, and I’m having a hard time figuring out what’s available. I think I’ve got it down now, but it took going in and actually setting up an order to find out what the options were. Scott and I have a different list of sides we’d like than Cordelia does, so we’re having to compromise.
