1) Weather — The weather is cool this morning. That leaf, the one that looks like it’s waving, must be waving goodbye to summer. Ground is moist for a change. Plants continue to wilt in the absence of rain.
2) One thing I did well yesterday: listened to my holosync track 3x to make up for lack of sleep (waiting for Ken’s return from China; the cat taking her morning exercise doing laps around my head at 5:40; getting up to go to work). Made a big difference, I think.
3) One thing I could have done better yesterday: restrained my blurt about Season Two’s ending episode of Dexter in front of C. (“thannnks, Mom…”)
4) and 5) Two things I can commit to doing today that I might not otherwise do: Return the library books that the city is ready to make me pay to replace, they are so overdue, and walk Jack with a pair of pruning shears in my pocket and finally prune the witch hazel over at B. Elementary.
1. Weather — Today is cold. Steely sky, breath condensing. Hat and glove weather.
2. One thing I did well yesterday — Can’t think of anything. I’ll have to come back.
3. One thing I could have done better yesterday — Responded more neutrally when D. said he had a sore throat.
4. and 5. Two things I’ll commit to doing today that I might not otherwise get done —
download H1N1 vaccine forms and fill them out for the boys. √
cut out pictures for SoulCollage® gathering this weekend. √
Back to doing something well.
What DID I do well yesterday? I made a muslin angel that I ALMOST love — but I loved her better before I sharpied in a face, which on some level feels to me like I ruined her, so THAT doesn’t count. Overcooked the pork chops, which were still okay, but can’t count that. Spent hours on the phone finding out about Mass. Health, ECOB, COBRA for my sister… but all of that felt like a big muddle so that even though I came out of it with a couple of appts. and a located birth certificate, I wouldn’t put that on the list. So, what then?
Can I count NOT being awful as doing something well?!!
Yesterday, I contained my rage waiting for 25 minutes at the post office. There I was picking up a certified letter (on my sister’s behalf — so there’s THAT) that my postal carrier SHOULD have rung the bell for me to sign and receive at the house. He had THREE chances to make life easy for me.
There it was, the first ‘real’ business day after Thanksgiving and presumably the beginning of package-mailing-season and my wonderful post office branch had ONE window open (the line was ten deep the entire time I waited). Furthermore, (does this count as TWO things I did well?) I did not call the postal carrier a liar when he claimed to have rung the bell and knocked when he delivered the three notices, which I know for a fact, he did not. I was there when the mail hit the floor every single time and no bell was rung, no door was knocked.
And now, I’ll rant about this guy.
This is a postal carrier that defies the notion of service and veers into some creepy realm of vindictive laziness. When he was assigned to our street, it was all anyone could talk about for weeks — what stupid, incredulous thing he had done THAT day (e.g., drop envelopes with checks in them onto the curb, not deliver mail because a rug-cleaning hose was threaded through the front door, refuse to bend over and pick anything up on a stoop because of a bad back, act like my dog is a vicious, postman-eating predator). Many of us reported his errors to his supervisor, he was put ‘on probation’ for awhile, and now he is back to his tricks.
Though it serves no purpose, I spend a fair amount of time wondering, as he strenuously cuts corners and makes life difficult for everyone on the route, whether he is acting out of a generalized incompetence or out of some sort of shrewd and calculating desire to inflict misery on his customers. I tend to think the latter.
Can’t I come up with ONE THING I DID well yesterday? Oh, here — I added some machine stitching to my Full Moon in Taurus quilt, and miracle of miracles, located the missing moon, by, again miracle of miracles, cleaning up my work area a little.