I don't get sick very often. And when I do I can usually shake it off, and take my mind off my ailments by sticking to a normal routine.
That didn't work so well for me the other day. I awoke in the middle of the night feeling not so well. I was sure it would be gone by morning. Sarcasdad got up for work. and I thought "I'll just skip the gym and get the extra sleep, then I'll be fine". Then the alarm went off and I seriously considered calling out sick from work. In 25 years I think I have done that 4 times, and three of those times the kids were sick. It's got nothing to do with job loyalty. It has to do with guilt. If just one person calls out where I work, it makes everyone else's job a bit harder. I imagine it is that way it many work places, but retail stores operate with tight budgets and lots of part time help, so it isn't always easy to adjust at the last minute. So I didn't call out. Anyway I figured that after my shower I would feel better. I didn't. But if I could get dressed I could go to work. After all it's only 8 hours. On my feet. With people.
I made it to work, but I only lasted about 2 hours. On the mercifully short drive home I thought "if I can just get a nap, I'll feel fine when I get up, and then I can make the bed and take care of the dishes still in the kitchen from last night's dinner" I rarely leave the house without making the bed. It's just one of those things ingrained in me from childhood. If the bed isn't made up, the house is not tidy. I know people who say they never make the bed because they are just getting back in it later. I applaud their attitude. But I don' share it. Even sick, the unmade bed was nagging at me.( guilt again) As for the dishes, well, I have left dishes in the sink before. But we had some company the night before and had rushed out to catch the Phillies game at the ballpark so things were a little messier than usual. No problem though. First thing, right after that nap.
It was a four hour nap, and I still couldn't get up off the sofa.
I heard Sarcasdad's key in the back door. That alone made me feel better, but not any more lively. He made me a cup of tea and then he did the nicest thing ever.He cleaned up the kitchen. Did the dishes, put the table back to it's smaller size and tidied up the breakfast room.
I felt the guilt lift right off me. I am not saying that it is unusual for Sarcasdad to clean up the kitchen. He does it quite often. But at that particular moment in time he did it for me. And that and a couple of Tylenol were all I needed for the rest of the night.
True, the bed never got made, but hey,we were just getting right back in it.
I Emerge Victorious
It was one of those things in life, that you just keep putting off. Not for any specific reason. Just because you don't wanna do it.Or at least, that was how I felt about it. Still, it had to be done and finally I decided to just suck it up and do it. Just do it, like the commercial says .
Once committed I was 100 percent focused on the task at hand. I took a deep breath and then had at it. It wasn't long until I realized I had sorely underestimated the physical strength and manual dexterity that was required of me. I wondered if it was truly a one woman job. But I hate to quit. So I mustered all my resolve and soldiered on. What was in reality a few minutes seemed to last an eternity. Would I prevail ?
Success was it's own reward. And, the new cover is on the ironing board. But it wasn't pretty. The effort- not the board cover. It is actually very spiffy. All silver and shiny. Not to mention clean and free of rips and tears which makes it a darn sight better than the old one. But hey, I got 10 or 15 years out of that one. And I can confidently say that it expired from old age, and not over use. I am quite serious when I tell you that I disturbed quite an impressive spider web when I removed the old cover. (wonder if it was this guy? I haven't run into him in a while) And after all the effort expended trying to stretch that tiny little wrinkled sliver of material over that odd shaped piece of metal, I decided that the paint roller pans that were stacked on the back end of the board needed to find a new home. And no, they were not in my way there.
True, I leave the ironing board up all the time. Ironing is more likely to get done if I don't have to set up first. I won't leave the house wrinkled so a quick press is not out of the question. There is also, however, a basket of clothes that require some serious iron application to make them wearable. It's not that I don't like these clothes. I like them just fine. However I have a closet full of equally appealing wardrobe pieces that go from hangar to body in crease free condition. And in my book, a wrinkle free shirt will win out over a needs- to -be- ironed shirt anytime.
I know women who wax poetic over their ironing. Some have gone so far as to purchase this, the Cadillac of irons. I don't get it. Anyway, all that repetitive pressing will wear out the ironing board cover that much sooner. I'm not doing that again anytime soon.
Happy Birthday Intenet
On Carmi's blog , I learned hat the Internet is 16 years old today! And as is his custom, Carmi closed his post with a query. He asked us to share one thing about the Internet that had changed our lives. One thing? As I sat pondering my response, I realized it was more than just a comment. It was a post. So with apologies to Carmi, here is my answer.
We had computers in the house from early on. The first being a Commodore 64 desktop, on which we did word processing functions and told ourselves we were going to learn how to do programing. Our entry into the WWW came when Sarcasmo went away to college at the University of Piittsburgh. She was given an on -campus email address and suggested we get email as well so we could communicate at will. Which at the time meant when she could get to the computer lab, as personal computers in dorm rooms were still rare, if not non-existent. When we were going through some of her things we found the letter she wrote about us getting email. Yes a handwritten letter. Sarcasmo was good about writing home. Those letters are quite the treasure now that she is gone. I think the actual letter writing lasted through her first two years at school, before the computer became our main from of communication. I think Sarcas-sis may have written once, from college, and Sarcasmo Jr., maybe notes in birthday cards. But by then every student had their own in room computers. Although we are still talking desktop models with huge processors that we lugged back and forth between semesters.So there is one way the Internet made a difference. Less handwritten letters. But more communication. I have to confess, that there were times I sent the girls emails, just so I could see if it had been read. That way I knew they were okay. Just too busy to call home.
A few years ago I worked with a lady a bit older than myself. I had a habit of saying to her "I talked " to one of the girls, and she would ask,"did you talk to her , or were you on the computer?" I almost always meant that I had had an email, or a real time conversation online. One day when I was bemoaning that my children were all living away from home, Sarcas-sis several states away, she told me I had no idea how lucky I was. She recounted to me how she got on a boat leaving her native Ireland when she was 18. (indeed she still had a heavy accent almost 50 years later). Communication with her parents and siblings consisted of one or two letters a year. There was hope for better when the transatlantic phone line was run, but as her parents didn't have their own telephone, a successful call to the home country required planning and timing. If she did connect to the only phone for miles, at a neighbor's house, someone would have to run and collect her father and mother and everyone crossed their fingers that they would get there before the call was lost. She was right. The Internet gave us immediate communication.
When our grandson was born, over 6,000 miles away, in Japan, We got pictures of him almost everyday. The Internet has definitely had impact on our photographical archives. Shoeboxes of photos and scrapbbooks with photo corners ( does anyone remember them. And how they would dry out and you opened the book and all the pictures fell out!!?) have been replaced by online photo storage. Saves a lot of room in the hall closet. And we can share them with the click of a mouse. But, I never have a picture on me to show people. Not a paper one anyway. I usually have a couple on my cell phone that I can show off. And my children did give me a hand held digital photo viewer, which I have been meaning to update . But it took me years to organize he photos in the hall closet so no one should expect miracles.
Then there was the day Sarcasmo told me she had a blog. An online web-log she said it was. And I could read it if I wanted to. That may have been the biggest impact the Internet has had on my life.
So, there's my answer. And like Carmi, I want to know. How has the Internet affected your life?