Jan. 17: Daybook

Today…

Outside my window... the sky is a bit blue and a bit bright, not the usual grey. My doctor suggested I may have seasonal depression—common in the northwest, or so I hear—and I should get more light. This morning I have the blinds open more than usual, and honestly, the light is kinda burning into my brain. How is that helpful? I think it’s making me stupid. I actually just typed an ‘e’ on the end of ‘brain.’ That is not good.

This weekend, I… shopped for prizes for the upcoming school carnival, read a little bit, napped some, did concessions at the school’s movie night, and tried to get the scent of theater popcorn off me. Two thorough showers later, and I swear I can still smell it.

I am thinking... about the happy news we got the other day: Victor’s sister and her family are moving back to the states! Over the past several years they’ve lived in Montreal, Yokohama, Brussels, Paris, and Shenzhen, and we’re thrilled that they’re finally coming home to Seattle.

I am thankful... that the forecasted snow never came last week. There was some freezing rain, but it wasn’t bad in Clackamas. I am not a fan of the super-cold weather, nor am I a fan of snow days, and the weather gods finally listened to me last week. ALL HAIL JEN, I believe was exactly what they said.

I am working on... my school carnival doodies and a big project at work. Bizzy bee.

Can I tell you something? I love this cereal box game—you can guess why. Thanks for sharing a pic, April!

I am going... to have to find a positive-thinking way of dealing with my port-flush. Every 4-6 weeks I’m supposed to go to the oncologist’s office and sit in the chemo room so a nurse can inject my port with saline. This is done to keep it clean and accessible, so as long as I have the port (which could be the rest of my life), I have to have it flushed regularly. Last week was my first time, and can I just tell you? I HATED being back in the chemo room. It was so depressing. Yes, it’s only for a few minutes at a time and much less often than the chemo schedule I was on, but I just want to be DONE with all things chemo, y’know? It’s not easy to put a positive spin on being in that room—I spent a year there that I sooo want to put behind me.

Around the house... it smells delicious! There’s a pot roast in the crock pot that’s surrounded by carrots, potatoes and mushrooms. It’s almost overflowing, in a totally good, this-is-gonna-last-several-meals way. Yum.

One of my favorite things... is the fabulosity of my friends. Yesterday Val texted me and insisted I get to her house right that instant. Of course, I did, because when Val says “JUMP!” I ask “How high?” Victor and the kids joined us, and later Val demanded Sunshine and her fam get over there too. The first thing Sunshine said to Val was “Why can’t I say ‘no’ to you?” (See, I’m not the only one!) We all ended up spending an impromptu many hours together. I L-O-V-E love those folk.

Plans for the rest of the week: Lots of work at school and lots of work at work. PTO meeting on Wednesday. Poker night on Saturday. In other words, all good things. Happy things.

Here’s a link I want to share: The Monkeys You Ordered. You remember the Seinfeld episode in which Elaine goes to the New Yorker, demanding to know why one of its comics is funny? That’s pretty much what this site is about. Here’s how Comics Alliance describes it:

Because science has determined that no more than 23% of New Yorker cartoons are comprehensible to humans, the good people at The Monkeys You Ordered have repurposed that unexplainable material into something more helpful and entertaining to everybody. Updating weekly, The Monkeys You Ordered studies the latest variously mystifying New Yorker cartoons and gleans through an algorithmic process the artwork's true meaning. From there, they simply caption the cartoon accordingly.

Have a great week, youse!

Want to blog your own Daybook? Here’s the info: The Simple Woman’s Daybook.