Thursday, August 16, 2007

Sssssssssssss ...

I just had a Whitesnake lyric running though my head: "Oh I don't know where I'm going, but I sure know where I've been." (I'd link to the band's official web site but it's just too ugly.)

I took Monday off to recuperate from the walk. I was up early - too damn early - and spent the day writing and editing the thank-you letter I sent to all of my contributors, then hobbling to the copy store, then hobbling to the post office, where I proceeded to stand at a counter and sign all the letters and fold all the letters and stuff all the letters into the envelopes I'd already addressed and then lick and seal all of the envelopes. Note to self: Next year, buy self-stick envelopes for that mailing.

I always buy the breast cancer stamps at the post office, and it dawned on me today that I now pay 55 cents per stamp. Good God, that just seems crazy. Fifty-five cents for a stamp? I clearly remember when stamps were 15 cents. And I am clearly officially old, because I am now saying things like, "I clearly remember when stamps were 15 cents."

So Monday, I tried to keep my leg elevated and tried to remember to ice it often and took a few Advil and didn't push nearly enough fluids. And when I'd flex my ankle, I could hear my muscles contracting. Or maybe I was hearing my tendons. I dunno. But you know something's seriously amiss when you can hear your musculature moving.

And then, for the rest of this week, I've been working and puttering and wishing I could sleep for about 16 hours straight to try and catch up from the weekend. That's the funny thing about the 3-Day: You're asking more of your body than you ever do, but you're getting less sleep than usual: Hey, body! How about I give you about four hours of sleep and then we walk 23 miles, 'kay?

Yup, I'm a loon.

And then last night, massive storms moved through the area and my power flickered a bit, and then it went out. So I laid on the couch, waiting for it to come back on. Because it always comes right back on. But 15 minutes later, bupkus. I tried calling the power company, and got a recording that they were experiencing an unusually high call volumn. OK, so they knew there was a problem because other people were calling to tell them there was a problem. But just to be sure, I felt my way downstairs (where I left my flashlight) to check the circuit-breaker panel to make sure I couldn't just flip the main power switch and put myself back in business. Nope. So I went to bed, figuring I'd wake up when my clock started flashing. Only it didn't. I woke up a few times and then again for good at 5:13 a.m. (I looked at my cell phone) to the sound of a chainsaw nearby.

Turns out, lightning hit a tree a couple doors down and a falling limb took out the power lines. Well, that's not good.

So I tried to think of things I could do that didn't require electricity. I made my bed. I emptied the dishwasher. I washed the few items that don't go in the dishwasher (like my knives and wooden utensils). I Swiffered the floor. When it was light enough, I read through Sunday's paper, which I hadn't gotten around to all week. I smooshed all the bottles in my recycle basket so they'd take up less space in my recycle bin outside. I continued reading J-D's novel and had a brilliant idea (which I couldn't e-mail to him).

Thinking back, I should have gone back to bed. Sleeping does not require any electricity.

The power came back on about 12 hours after it went out. To be safe, I'll pitch most of the contents of my fridge and freezer. Bummer. I just bought a half-gallon of orange juice.

So now the post-walk stupor is wearing off and I'm mostly mobile again and I should kick it back into gear next week.

I'm halfway through my Design Star blog assignment. In addition to posting each week right after an episode airs, I need to post once mid-week, too. I continue to amaze myself with my ability to craft an entire blog entry out of absolutely nothing.

Yessirree, that's the mark of a good writer: Writing even when you have nothing to say!

: o )


Anonymous girlanddog said...

Don't you hate it when even your muscles start creaking?

I know how you feel... I remember when I did the 50-mile bike race. The next day I fell asleep during lunch, at the movies, in a bookstore, etc.

I really admire you for writing even when you have nothing to say! I can't even get myself to write when I have stuff om my mind!

8:42 PM  
Anonymous Ethan said...

I'm older*, or else my memory is longer: I clearly remember stamps being 13 cents, but then again, I used to have a stamp collection as a kid so I paid close attention to that stuff. Popular stamp back then: Oliver Wendell Holmes.

* Well, not chronologically, by much. :-)

10:51 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

If you keep your freezer full and the food is still frozen, which it should be after 12 hours, you don't have to pitch it.

11:39 PM  

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