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Man, do I miss y'all.
May. 8th, 2005 09:00 pmThis has been an absolutely shitty weekend, for various reasons. I have been busy for almost every minute of it, running errands or finishing my mother's present or working or cleaning or doing laundry or packing or making sure I have all my things organized for next week for my wham, bam, thank-you-ma'am trip, five cities in five days, rental cars and flight arrangements and East Texas freeways.
If it just were the busy-ness, and the upcoming trip, it would have been stressful but okay. It wasn't, though. My eighty-six-year-old grandmother fell on Friday and broke her hip and for two days they have been scheduling surgery and putting it off again because she is simply too frail to be put under anaesthesia. She has a fever. Her potassium levels are too low, her sodium levels are too low, her blood pressure is too low. So for the past two days we've been waiting to hear word from her surgery, and then at the last minute we hear that it's been rescheduled--and sometimes we get conflicting information from various family members, which is completely frustrating--but at least she's in no pain; they've got her so doped up with pain medications and antibiotics that it's a little surprising she's still coherent, but apparently she is.
In the confusion of hearing and waiting to hear more about my grandmother's condition, I took it upon myself to do a little maintenance and reorganization of my ipod and somehow (well, I know exactly how but I shan't bore you with that sorry tale) managed to delete about a thousand songs from my ipod and also deleted them from my hard drive, and so now I am faced with either downloading them all again--they were mostly downloaded stuff, OF COURSE THEY WERE--or begging my friends to send me care packages. So here I am begging: don't you have pity for me and my bad weekend? Surely you cannot bear to see me without the entire catalogue of the Mountain Goats or Andrew Bird's Bowl of Fire. Surely you have a Modest Mouse record you've been dying to copy for someone. Well, let that someone be me and I will be your forever friend; and in return if you would like me to furnish you with something I still do have, I shall do it, forthwith and anon.
Anyway. This weekend was shitty, and I am glad it's over, but at least my mother loved her present, and at least I had some lovely food--mmmm, chicken tikka masala--and at least I am ready enough to go tripping tomorrow that all I really have left to do in the morning is shower and get dressed.
I've got some e-mail to answer, and I haven't forgotten. And I see that I have been enjoined by Laurel to do a video meme, and I shall do that too. In time. In time.
If it just were the busy-ness, and the upcoming trip, it would have been stressful but okay. It wasn't, though. My eighty-six-year-old grandmother fell on Friday and broke her hip and for two days they have been scheduling surgery and putting it off again because she is simply too frail to be put under anaesthesia. She has a fever. Her potassium levels are too low, her sodium levels are too low, her blood pressure is too low. So for the past two days we've been waiting to hear word from her surgery, and then at the last minute we hear that it's been rescheduled--and sometimes we get conflicting information from various family members, which is completely frustrating--but at least she's in no pain; they've got her so doped up with pain medications and antibiotics that it's a little surprising she's still coherent, but apparently she is.
In the confusion of hearing and waiting to hear more about my grandmother's condition, I took it upon myself to do a little maintenance and reorganization of my ipod and somehow (well, I know exactly how but I shan't bore you with that sorry tale) managed to delete about a thousand songs from my ipod and also deleted them from my hard drive, and so now I am faced with either downloading them all again--they were mostly downloaded stuff, OF COURSE THEY WERE--or begging my friends to send me care packages. So here I am begging: don't you have pity for me and my bad weekend? Surely you cannot bear to see me without the entire catalogue of the Mountain Goats or Andrew Bird's Bowl of Fire. Surely you have a Modest Mouse record you've been dying to copy for someone. Well, let that someone be me and I will be your forever friend; and in return if you would like me to furnish you with something I still do have, I shall do it, forthwith and anon.
Anyway. This weekend was shitty, and I am glad it's over, but at least my mother loved her present, and at least I had some lovely food--mmmm, chicken tikka masala--and at least I am ready enough to go tripping tomorrow that all I really have left to do in the morning is shower and get dressed.
I've got some e-mail to answer, and I haven't forgotten. And I see that I have been enjoined by Laurel to do a video meme, and I shall do that too. In time. In time.
