The Weekend of Doom...
Dec. 5th, 2005 10:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wiseheart... or the many mundane reasons why my life currently sucks.
Friday, December 2
Usually, I only have three lessons on Fridays. Which means I can leave school either at 11 a.m. or at noon as a happy camper. Now, this Friday I had to take Mom to the chiropodist, which usually ends up with us walking around on toes covered with antiseptic salve, as the chiropodist (a nice lady, actually) gets sometimes a bit too eager.
After having had ourselves properly tortured, we did some shopping for groceries. At Mom's favourite grocers, I discovered that some unsung genius had come to the glorious idea to bring out fresh honey-cake dough. You know the sort you only have to roll out and cut into the shapes you like. Like angels, bells, stars, and so on.
I haven't made honey cakes for years, for the simple reason that when I've finally finished making the dough and the cutting out part, I'm usually so beat I don't really feel like wasting any more time with decorating them. So I bought the dough in delight. I was planning to bake the cakes on Saturday.
Saturday, Dec 3
Okay, I slept in a bit, because I discovered some interesting Stargate Sg1/Buffy crossover and read until 3 p.m. But learning that we would, indeed, wash the cursed curtains on that day was still a harsh thing.
I'm insanely afraid of heights. Has to do something with not having any sense of balance, most likely. So I had to climb onto our 4-step ladder, take off the dratted rags (all three of them), and when they were washed, climb back with the dratted wet rags and put them back on... which takes a considerably longer time, especially standing on top of a 1.5 metres high ladder (I know, ridiculously low for anyone who's not me), shaking with fear and whimpering like a baby. It was pathetic, really, but what can I do? I am deadly afraid of the dratted thing.
Needless to say that I was useless for the rest of the day. Well, except doing some more reading 'til, oh, 2 a.m. or so.
Sunday, Dec 4
If you think we'd have had a peaceful Sunday after that ordeal, you'd be sorely mistaken. Mom was hit by the realization that the frigging hall had not been cleaned last week. Nor had the goddamn balcony. So she was doing that all morning, while I was baking the honey cakes. And no, I had not come to decorating them. Again. It's very likely that they will go onto the Xmas tree naked. Again. Our little Xmas pr0n. Bare-arsed naked honey cakes.
Have I mentioned that I hate housework? Really, really hate it? To come to think of, I don't particularly like holidays, either. And yes, there is a strong connection between those two things.
Oh, and I've marked tests at eleven in the night, too!
Monday, Dec 5
Not actually weekend, but the Doom continues.
All right, so on every odd Monday, I could finish teaching at noon. If I weren't in the teachers' choir, which means that I have to stay at school for the rehearsal which lasts from 13-14.45.
I like singing, I really do. When I don't have a sore throat already, and the menopausal colleagues don't open all windows in my back because they are having heat waves. Which they do, all the time.
Mom wanted to do shopping again. She got some sort of Xmas money where she works, and that has to be spent until the end of December, or it's lost. So we went to the next best shopping center - while it was raining "dogs and cats", as the Germans say - to buy shoes. Mom has a shoe tic. She always thinks she needs new shoes. Or new handbags. Anyway, she found a pair she liked in fifteen minutes, thank God.
Then she wanted to buy shoes for me, too. It would have been a good thing, as I really need to replace the pair I had to throw out because they fell apart after nearly twenty years of usage. But the bad thing is, one simply cannot get shoes for my feet. Especially when they are swollen out of human proportions, which they have been doing for the least, oh, ten years or so. Granny had the same feet, so there's nothing one could do against it. She still lived to become 96, so I'm not particularly worried. But buying shoes is a frustrating - and mostly useless - effort, especially since the only Birkenstock store in town has become something else. Now they barely have any Birkenstocks (good, wide-built shoes with very high "roofs") at all.
So, shopping for shoes led to no-where in my case. By then, I was frustrated and angry and my legs hurt, as I haven't had five minutes rest all day - and my legs usually need at least two hours in the middle of the day to function for the rest of it; which is why I usually watch TV in the early afternoon. Anyway, I was very whiny, so we came home - after another visit at the grocer's on our way home.
And when we were finally here, I realized that I've lost my keys. All of them.
Which meant the trip back to every frigging shop where we've been, asking the shop assistants if they had found my keys (they had not), walking around and looking into every corner, to see if we can find them somewhere (we could not).
We do have a third set of keys at home - the one once belonged to Granny - but it's still frustrating. So now someone is running around with my keys. It makes me very uncomfortable, even if there's no way they could track down where the keys belong. We might change at least one of the locks, I think. Just what we needed before Xmas.
And the worst thing is, the key ring had great emotional value for me. It was a parting gift from Sister Magdalena, a fellow nun, my second-best friend in convent. I've carried it with me since 1987. Shit.
All right, so much for today from the Chronicles of Suckitude. After all this, the fact that the tests I'd had to correct and mark turned out craptaculous is barely worth mentioning, eh?
Friday, December 2
Usually, I only have three lessons on Fridays. Which means I can leave school either at 11 a.m. or at noon as a happy camper. Now, this Friday I had to take Mom to the chiropodist, which usually ends up with us walking around on toes covered with antiseptic salve, as the chiropodist (a nice lady, actually) gets sometimes a bit too eager.
After having had ourselves properly tortured, we did some shopping for groceries. At Mom's favourite grocers, I discovered that some unsung genius had come to the glorious idea to bring out fresh honey-cake dough. You know the sort you only have to roll out and cut into the shapes you like. Like angels, bells, stars, and so on.
I haven't made honey cakes for years, for the simple reason that when I've finally finished making the dough and the cutting out part, I'm usually so beat I don't really feel like wasting any more time with decorating them. So I bought the dough in delight. I was planning to bake the cakes on Saturday.
Saturday, Dec 3
Okay, I slept in a bit, because I discovered some interesting Stargate Sg1/Buffy crossover and read until 3 p.m. But learning that we would, indeed, wash the cursed curtains on that day was still a harsh thing.
I'm insanely afraid of heights. Has to do something with not having any sense of balance, most likely. So I had to climb onto our 4-step ladder, take off the dratted rags (all three of them), and when they were washed, climb back with the dratted wet rags and put them back on... which takes a considerably longer time, especially standing on top of a 1.5 metres high ladder (I know, ridiculously low for anyone who's not me), shaking with fear and whimpering like a baby. It was pathetic, really, but what can I do? I am deadly afraid of the dratted thing.
Needless to say that I was useless for the rest of the day. Well, except doing some more reading 'til, oh, 2 a.m. or so.
Sunday, Dec 4
If you think we'd have had a peaceful Sunday after that ordeal, you'd be sorely mistaken. Mom was hit by the realization that the frigging hall had not been cleaned last week. Nor had the goddamn balcony. So she was doing that all morning, while I was baking the honey cakes. And no, I had not come to decorating them. Again. It's very likely that they will go onto the Xmas tree naked. Again. Our little Xmas pr0n. Bare-arsed naked honey cakes.
Have I mentioned that I hate housework? Really, really hate it? To come to think of, I don't particularly like holidays, either. And yes, there is a strong connection between those two things.
Oh, and I've marked tests at eleven in the night, too!
Monday, Dec 5
Not actually weekend, but the Doom continues.
All right, so on every odd Monday, I could finish teaching at noon. If I weren't in the teachers' choir, which means that I have to stay at school for the rehearsal which lasts from 13-14.45.
I like singing, I really do. When I don't have a sore throat already, and the menopausal colleagues don't open all windows in my back because they are having heat waves. Which they do, all the time.
Mom wanted to do shopping again. She got some sort of Xmas money where she works, and that has to be spent until the end of December, or it's lost. So we went to the next best shopping center - while it was raining "dogs and cats", as the Germans say - to buy shoes. Mom has a shoe tic. She always thinks she needs new shoes. Or new handbags. Anyway, she found a pair she liked in fifteen minutes, thank God.
Then she wanted to buy shoes for me, too. It would have been a good thing, as I really need to replace the pair I had to throw out because they fell apart after nearly twenty years of usage. But the bad thing is, one simply cannot get shoes for my feet. Especially when they are swollen out of human proportions, which they have been doing for the least, oh, ten years or so. Granny had the same feet, so there's nothing one could do against it. She still lived to become 96, so I'm not particularly worried. But buying shoes is a frustrating - and mostly useless - effort, especially since the only Birkenstock store in town has become something else. Now they barely have any Birkenstocks (good, wide-built shoes with very high "roofs") at all.
So, shopping for shoes led to no-where in my case. By then, I was frustrated and angry and my legs hurt, as I haven't had five minutes rest all day - and my legs usually need at least two hours in the middle of the day to function for the rest of it; which is why I usually watch TV in the early afternoon. Anyway, I was very whiny, so we came home - after another visit at the grocer's on our way home.
And when we were finally here, I realized that I've lost my keys. All of them.
Which meant the trip back to every frigging shop where we've been, asking the shop assistants if they had found my keys (they had not), walking around and looking into every corner, to see if we can find them somewhere (we could not).
We do have a third set of keys at home - the one once belonged to Granny - but it's still frustrating. So now someone is running around with my keys. It makes me very uncomfortable, even if there's no way they could track down where the keys belong. We might change at least one of the locks, I think. Just what we needed before Xmas.
And the worst thing is, the key ring had great emotional value for me. It was a parting gift from Sister Magdalena, a fellow nun, my second-best friend in convent. I've carried it with me since 1987. Shit.
All right, so much for today from the Chronicles of Suckitude. After all this, the fact that the tests I'd had to correct and mark turned out craptaculous is barely worth mentioning, eh?
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-05 11:09 pm (UTC)I share your fear of ladders. I find it difficult to go more than a couple of steps up a stepladder. Not pathetic at all.
Can you cheer youself up by writing naked honey cake slash? ;)
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-05 11:33 pm (UTC)Now *that's* an idea that never crossed my mind! It would be an interesting challenge to figure out the logistics of a bell having crazy naked sex with a star, while the sugar icing melts from the heat of their passion...
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-05 11:38 pm (UTC)Rowwwr! :)
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-06 06:33 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-06 07:32 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-06 04:15 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-08 01:56 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-08 02:05 pm (UTC)Oh, and I ympathize about the ladders. I was a 3-story ladder outside last weekend cleaning the gutters because I'm the only one in the house who can take being up that high. The downstairs guy gets vertigo, so he just can't do it. The Beloved, who of course has worked high above stages for many years, doesn't have his health insurance yet, so he was braced the ladder and spotted for me.
I still was nervous. It was cold, wet and nasty - especially when I stepped in cat poop before I started climbing and only noticed it after I'd left some on every single rung all the way up. Eewww.... But, unlike your curtains, that job is done for the whole year. Shall I send you some nice dressmaker's shears for the holidays?