Daily Life
Jul. 25th, 2003 12:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pameladeanI can't imagine that the following will be of much, if any, interest to anyone aside from me and perhaps those who are mentioned therein. But it contains the kinds of details I'm always sorry to have forgotten.
Last night I slept downstairs in David's room. Since I don't sleep in that waterbed every night any more, I seldom look at it without remembering the day his old airframe mattress sprang a leak in the one spot that couldn't be reached for repair -- between the airframe and the water compartment -- and we had to sally forth to buy a new bed. We were terrifically excited at the notion of drawers and a headboard with bookshelves, and much taken with the lovely dark golden pine of the visible elements, which had been treated in some way that allegedly made it as good as hardwood. Certainly none of it has collapsed or shown much sign of wear even after eighteen years or so.
David was asleep already, being on a saner schedule than I am. He woke up a bit when I made the bed wallop, which was probably just as well, because the telephone rang at 2:45 and he got to say that well, no, he was in bed but not actually asleep. I was worried that something terrible had happened somewhere, but it was just somebody with an even weirder sense of appropriate timing than mine, wanting him to come look at a friend's malfunctioning computer.
I mostly find the waterbed too warm these days; I mostly find almost anything too warm. I'd compounded the difficulty by absently taking my multivitamin quite late in the day, so I got the niacin flush as well.
Arwen came in at some point, stood at the end of the bed, and made some remarks, but she wouldn't settle. Ari came and visited me in the bathroom when I got up at five a.m., but he wouldn't come into the bedroom either. I expect they're on strike, but they haven't presented their terms intelligibly.
At nine the phone rang again. David announced his intention not to answer it this time. I was not feeling so very uncomfortably warm, so we got some cuddling in. At some point he got up, and at some point after that the phone rang at a decent hour, and at some point after that I got up. He was still on the phone, so I didn't go say good morning and get to see whatever photographic stuff he might be working on.
The stairway was stuffy already and quite full of the three cats who frequent it. I made sure the food and water dishes were not empty and continued on my way to the second floor. Minou was waiting impatiently in the kitchen, and followed me into the bathroom, speaking earnestly on one plaintive note. He wanted his medicine, or more precisely, the wet food that it is put into. But I wanted my own medicine, or more precisely, its effects. I stood in front of the chest of drawers in my dark bedroom, shaking pills out of bottles into the weekly pillbox. I usually only put in three days' worth at a time, in case I lose the box or it becomes mysteriously waterlogged, as did once happen. I remembered with a jolt that I was almost out of lisinopril. So I took the bottle, the pillbox, a glass of water ,and a banana into my office, unplugged the printer from the network, plugged my computer in instead, and ate my banana and took pills with one hand while deleting spam with the other.
After the medicine was down, I called the HCMC refill line and left my information. I'd been afraid I'd have to go down to the pharmacy on Sunday morning, already out of the damn drug, but the message said I could pick up my prescription after 9 a.m. on Saturday, which is much less of a hassle.
There was a good south breeze ,but it was not very cool. I looked at the NOAA site and cringed. Lower nineties. Feh. I looked at a few weblogs that I look at. I looked at the Astronomy Picture of the Day. They've been doing a lot of Mars stuff recently, but today was the Dumbbell Nebula. They noted with their typical scrupulous slightly doofy humor that it was not called so for its lack of academic achievement.
At about the time the cats gave up on reminding me that I was supposed to give them wet food, I got up and did so. Minou gets three quarters of a tablet of Tapazole in the morning. He was almost out of his medicine too, but that was being arranged for. I washed out the cat plates, put a bit of warm water in one, dissolved the pill bits in it, and then mushed a bit of wet food into the whole until it was a gloopy mess. I put a dollop of wet food on a plate for Ari so he wouldn't steal Minou's. Both of them were schooling around the kitchen and making anxious noises. No, don't throw it out the window; no don't eat it yourself; give it to us, us, us. Ari finally flopped on his side in despair, and then had to get up again when I put the plates down. The plates were given to Raphael by my mother. They are blue and white, with stylized cats on them, and might have originally been intended for mixing your wasabi and soy sauce together for the eating of sushi.
I went into the bedroom to placate Beryl, who won't eat wet food but gets very exercised if anybody gets anything she doesn't; also so I could sit down while making sure the two cats in the kitchen didn't change places. Jordan came out of Raphael's room and walked into the kitchen and made for Minou's plate. I had to give her a dollop of food too. She usually only gets it once a week with her baby aspirin for her arthritis, but every once in a while she asserts her position as matriarch of all cats by stealing Minou's food.
I call Minou the slowest tongue in the west. He was still lapping away when Ari and Jordan wandered off, so I wandered off too. Now it's getting very sticky in this office, which is a sunroom facing south, west, and north; and I need to toss my banana peel into the trash before the fruit flies come from the ends of the earth for it, and to make some coffee. This feels like it's going to be a very slow day. I didn't take my blood pressure, but I can feel the drugs flattening me out, so it probably wasn't all that high to start with.
More thrilling dull detail later!
Pamela
Last night I slept downstairs in David's room. Since I don't sleep in that waterbed every night any more, I seldom look at it without remembering the day his old airframe mattress sprang a leak in the one spot that couldn't be reached for repair -- between the airframe and the water compartment -- and we had to sally forth to buy a new bed. We were terrifically excited at the notion of drawers and a headboard with bookshelves, and much taken with the lovely dark golden pine of the visible elements, which had been treated in some way that allegedly made it as good as hardwood. Certainly none of it has collapsed or shown much sign of wear even after eighteen years or so.
David was asleep already, being on a saner schedule than I am. He woke up a bit when I made the bed wallop, which was probably just as well, because the telephone rang at 2:45 and he got to say that well, no, he was in bed but not actually asleep. I was worried that something terrible had happened somewhere, but it was just somebody with an even weirder sense of appropriate timing than mine, wanting him to come look at a friend's malfunctioning computer.
I mostly find the waterbed too warm these days; I mostly find almost anything too warm. I'd compounded the difficulty by absently taking my multivitamin quite late in the day, so I got the niacin flush as well.
Arwen came in at some point, stood at the end of the bed, and made some remarks, but she wouldn't settle. Ari came and visited me in the bathroom when I got up at five a.m., but he wouldn't come into the bedroom either. I expect they're on strike, but they haven't presented their terms intelligibly.
At nine the phone rang again. David announced his intention not to answer it this time. I was not feeling so very uncomfortably warm, so we got some cuddling in. At some point he got up, and at some point after that the phone rang at a decent hour, and at some point after that I got up. He was still on the phone, so I didn't go say good morning and get to see whatever photographic stuff he might be working on.
The stairway was stuffy already and quite full of the three cats who frequent it. I made sure the food and water dishes were not empty and continued on my way to the second floor. Minou was waiting impatiently in the kitchen, and followed me into the bathroom, speaking earnestly on one plaintive note. He wanted his medicine, or more precisely, the wet food that it is put into. But I wanted my own medicine, or more precisely, its effects. I stood in front of the chest of drawers in my dark bedroom, shaking pills out of bottles into the weekly pillbox. I usually only put in three days' worth at a time, in case I lose the box or it becomes mysteriously waterlogged, as did once happen. I remembered with a jolt that I was almost out of lisinopril. So I took the bottle, the pillbox, a glass of water ,and a banana into my office, unplugged the printer from the network, plugged my computer in instead, and ate my banana and took pills with one hand while deleting spam with the other.
After the medicine was down, I called the HCMC refill line and left my information. I'd been afraid I'd have to go down to the pharmacy on Sunday morning, already out of the damn drug, but the message said I could pick up my prescription after 9 a.m. on Saturday, which is much less of a hassle.
There was a good south breeze ,but it was not very cool. I looked at the NOAA site and cringed. Lower nineties. Feh. I looked at a few weblogs that I look at. I looked at the Astronomy Picture of the Day. They've been doing a lot of Mars stuff recently, but today was the Dumbbell Nebula. They noted with their typical scrupulous slightly doofy humor that it was not called so for its lack of academic achievement.
At about the time the cats gave up on reminding me that I was supposed to give them wet food, I got up and did so. Minou gets three quarters of a tablet of Tapazole in the morning. He was almost out of his medicine too, but that was being arranged for. I washed out the cat plates, put a bit of warm water in one, dissolved the pill bits in it, and then mushed a bit of wet food into the whole until it was a gloopy mess. I put a dollop of wet food on a plate for Ari so he wouldn't steal Minou's. Both of them were schooling around the kitchen and making anxious noises. No, don't throw it out the window; no don't eat it yourself; give it to us, us, us. Ari finally flopped on his side in despair, and then had to get up again when I put the plates down. The plates were given to Raphael by my mother. They are blue and white, with stylized cats on them, and might have originally been intended for mixing your wasabi and soy sauce together for the eating of sushi.
I went into the bedroom to placate Beryl, who won't eat wet food but gets very exercised if anybody gets anything she doesn't; also so I could sit down while making sure the two cats in the kitchen didn't change places. Jordan came out of Raphael's room and walked into the kitchen and made for Minou's plate. I had to give her a dollop of food too. She usually only gets it once a week with her baby aspirin for her arthritis, but every once in a while she asserts her position as matriarch of all cats by stealing Minou's food.
I call Minou the slowest tongue in the west. He was still lapping away when Ari and Jordan wandered off, so I wandered off too. Now it's getting very sticky in this office, which is a sunroom facing south, west, and north; and I need to toss my banana peel into the trash before the fruit flies come from the ends of the earth for it, and to make some coffee. This feels like it's going to be a very slow day. I didn't take my blood pressure, but I can feel the drugs flattening me out, so it probably wasn't all that high to start with.
More thrilling dull detail later!
Pamela
