Posted on July 2nd, 2015
In addition to other
fuckery vagaries of life:
I have a broken toe. This is my first broken bone, and so at my age, that’s not a bad record. It’s not all that bad. However, it is just messed up enough for me to be extremely cranky. I taped it and if I don’t walk on it, I forget about it (and only remember the sprained fingers on my left hand; I caught a very heavy rolled up mat from pH’s martial arts class with two fingers. Not smart).
As an experiment, I didn’t do dishes to see how long family members would go before noticing and doing them instead. I gave up today at day 3.
I am tired of it being hot. I don’t like hot. I live here because
it’s dreary and rainy and cool we have a mild climate. It’s genetic to at least five generations: my daughter keeps asking when it will start raining again; she is very tired of going to bed while it’s still light out. I am very tired of her going to bed on a folded up down comforter in my bedroom next to my bed because our room has a/c and asking me to wear headphones because the music from police procedurals is too scary. I know. First world problems.
Today I had adventures in chemistry. Kind of.
The compounding pharmacy will charge me about $50 and not bill my insurance (I hate submitting claim forms) for a small bottle of a GI cocktail (this is a mixture of viscous lidocaine to Maalox, taken 30 mL at a time). The regular pharmacy will sell me three bottles of the viscous lidocaine for $1, with insurance, which I can mix with OTC Maalox. I could have let my husband do it (it used to be part of his job), but surely my time in chem lab was good for something.
My grand plan was to use the syringes and then mix it in the salad shaker (I am a queen, or at least a princess, of balsamic/EVOO emulsions), but I couldn’t find the cap, so I used the graduated cylinder from pH’s chemistry set, mixed it, and drank it with a straw from IKEA.
I’m glad I went with the nice glassware for the chem set. I’m also glad I remembered to buy test tube brushes, because who do you think washed it?
(And yes, I told pH: “NEVER EVER EVER EVER DO THIS” before I drank it. She wasn’t around for our days of X-files parties with cheap wine in a liter Erlenmeyer flask–it does make a decent carafe, and I hope I have it in a box somewhere–but still.)
“How awful was it?” kH asked.
“Not bad. I think I’m starting to like Maalox,” I said.
Which just about sums things up around here.
Today concluded two weeks of swim lessons every day (pH’s). This marks the end of many months of swim lessons, which I am heartily sick of driving to, although it does allow me to indulge in my Jamba Juice vice. Today there was a weird little parade outside the community center, with two not-in-sync bagpipers (one at each end of the parade) and two mounted police units. Personally I think it’s weird to have a Fourth of July parade on July 2, but John Adams would have approved.
There was face painting, some dude dressed up as a slice of pizza, various other kid-fun-things, and a police car for kids to climb into.
“Want to climb in so I can take a picture?” I asked.
“Will you hold my hand?” pH asked.
“No, but I’ll tell you your rights and bail you out when the time comes.”
She sat in the car.
I took pictures. I asked her what they’d got her on.
She said nothing.
I asked her again.
She said nothing.
“My client is exercising her Fifth Amendment rights,” I said to the police (cadets) in the car and escorted her to the horses.
While we’re not exactly on hiatus with school (I do lighten up), there is no screen time for pH unless she does schoolwork. No screen time means she listens to soundtracks in her room, reads, and learns anyway. I’m not fighting her on it; it’s win/win. She’s read so much she’s finished the library’s summer challenge so I doubled it (is that mean?) so that each star was an hour instead of a half hour.
I just read a trashy tell-all book about New Wave bands. I’m slightly ashamed. I’m back to reading a book on mental illness in 19th century England, which garnered comments from moms at swim and my gastroenterologist today.
Seriously: if I had a dollar for every time someone asked me why I’m reading THAT (whatever THAT happens to be at the moment) I would be out of debt…although probably facing assault charges, because the other book I’m reading, a LBJ bio, is quite hefty and I’d be willing to chuck it at someone.
So, while I’m reading THAT I’m also writing a THAT, and THAT is a very good thing.
In related news, I discovered today that if I close the door to my office and I leave the a/c on, it will stay in the 60s, which has made me slightly less cranky. (Slightly). And willing to write.