A recap of the past near-week
friday: the day sucked a lot. I was insanely busy, and could barely focus because of my head. For a while in the morning, I was wearing Alysa's sunglasses with my office lights off and the computer brightness turned WAY down. I must have looked like shit because Shelly told me to go home. I didn't, of course; having spent all of Thursday barely functional, I had WAY too much to do. I finally decided to piggyback ibuprofen and tylenol, and did so all day, leading to an at least manageable level of pain. So I worked all day, and hit the road for home (to pick up Paul) so we could go to Ottumwa.
My client, however, had other ideas... she texted me when we were about a quarter of the way there and said to postpone until this week. So I said to Paul, "I could have gone to Iowa City to hang out with Tim and Chris." He said, "Go!"
So I did. I mainly watched the guys game in WoW and worked on my grant. Not to mention enjoying a few lovely beverages. There's not a man, woman, or child alive who doesn't enjoy a lovely beverage. *winks at Paul*
Saturday, got up, saw Tim off, and Chris and I went to lunch at the Airliner, where I had possibly one of the top three burgers of my life. Blue cheese and mushrooms... mmmm. I hit the road after lunch. I think Paul and I watched "In Cold Blood" in the afternoon. Days are melting together. Note to self: Aldi bratwurst sucks.
Sunday, I got up and started working on my grant in earnest. The final push, as it were. Paul managed to drag me out of the house for a bit in the afternoon, for a glorious little interlude involving sand and murky lake water. I also got my new glasses, which I have yet to take a picture of. *turns on webcam and shows Lin*
We came home, made dinner, and I worked on my grant until 2am. At some point in the evening, I scrapped the whole fucking narrative and started all over again.
I was up way early on Monday and hit the road to the office, arriving before even Marvel. When I walked into the office, the nighttime advocate stopped me to tell me that one of our clients was planning to go back to her abuser THAT MORNING... could I please go talk to her and maybe do some safety planning with her? (this client is in her 60s and heavily medicated a lot of the time).
So I had to go deal with that impending crisis before I could settle down to work on my grant.
I started off with trying to finish a couple of sections that I'd left partially done the night before. Shelly came in, Angie came in, and Angie pointed out to me that I'd missed one critical direction: the grant had to be in goal-objective-activity-output form. *#)$)_!_$#*.
This meant, essentially, I had to figure out what my goals and objectives were (this is harder than it sounds, believe me). Thank god I had Angie to help, or I would have been totally screwed.
What made it worse was... Angie, Shelly, Marvel and I had to go to Des Moines to attend a two-hour training on the Rape Prevention Education funds, smack dab in the middle of the fucking day. I took the laptop along and worked in the car both to and fro.
And turned in the grant two minutes before deadline... go me. Jesus. STRESS. I was exhausted after THAT. I needed a near-three-hour nap at the office before I could drive home (no joke).
Tuesday, I worked on computers. I reformatted my PC. I did some crap to my laptop. And I really didn't do a whole hell of a lot to earn my paycheck, if you want to know the truth. I ordered a new computer for Angie, and I did a bunch of bullshit stuff. I got home sometime around 10.
Wednesday I was up early, and I made two peaches and cream cheesecake coffeecake thingEEs. One for the office, one for the man of the house. And then I headed to my long-ass staff meeting... which I skipped out on early, because I had a date with destiny.
Or, rather, with a licensed Deep Tissue/Swedish massage therapist named Chris. I was expecting this hulking "Hans" type, and instead he was slight, nervous young man with a tongue piercing, whom I would not have guessed would be strong enough to give me the kind of massage I needed. We talked for a few minutes beforehand; I showed him (with his own fingers) where my implant was so he could, yanno, avoid it. Then he left the room and I disrobed and climbed under the sheet.
He conducted the entire massage in the dark. Not dimly lit... dark. It hurt like a motherfucking son of an asslicking bitch. And it was so worth it (she says, 36 hours later).
After that, I went to Staples to look for a monitor for Angie's new computer. That took nearly an hour, because the monitor they had advertised in their circular apparently doesn't exist.
I returned to the shelter to find that one of our clients, who is a Genuine Black Southern Woman, had prepared a MONSTROUS spread of soul food. Collards with ham hocks, cornbread, fried chicken, bbq chicken, corn with some kind of pepper, macaroni and cheese, potato salad, yams, and cake.
Lord... if I go to heaven when I die... this is what I'm going to be eating. It was, I kid you not, the single most perfect meal I have ever, ever, ever had. I had seconds of everything but the yams. I was agog. It was a culinary masterpiece. I have never before had a meal that was perfect in every way.
(yes, I'm still waxing poetic about this meal even this long afterwards... I just couldn't believe there was an entire meal that didn't miss a note.)
Shelly, Marvel, and I crunched some numbers which showed that we can't afford to hire Jennifer full-time (we are short a mere $6000, but that's $6000 that's going to be nearly impossible to find, which means I am completely and utterly screwed). I was working on god knows what until about 6:30, and then I headed home to Teh Draaaama with Brett, Paul, and my truck. Jeezus.
I was in bed early, and asleep pretty quick, too. I am still completely discouraged about the budget issue... it's making me wake up at night. Dub can relate.
(as an aside: I"m re-reading When the Mind Hears - A History of the Deaf. Lord. Such a book.)
Today, I was once again up early. I had to be in Ames by 8:40, because I had to give a speech at the Golden K Kiwanis this morning so they would give us money. The "Golden" refers to their golden years... there wasn't a man in the room under the age of 60.
I have a bunch more to write, but it's nearly 2am, there are fire trucks and an ambulance and police across the street, and I do think it's time for me to sleep. I went to Ottumwa today, tomorrow I go to Cedar Rapids, and Saturday Paul and I go to Missouri for a transport.
Sleep.
My client, however, had other ideas... she texted me when we were about a quarter of the way there and said to postpone until this week. So I said to Paul, "I could have gone to Iowa City to hang out with Tim and Chris." He said, "Go!"
So I did. I mainly watched the guys game in WoW and worked on my grant. Not to mention enjoying a few lovely beverages. There's not a man, woman, or child alive who doesn't enjoy a lovely beverage. *winks at Paul*
Saturday, got up, saw Tim off, and Chris and I went to lunch at the Airliner, where I had possibly one of the top three burgers of my life. Blue cheese and mushrooms... mmmm. I hit the road after lunch. I think Paul and I watched "In Cold Blood" in the afternoon. Days are melting together. Note to self: Aldi bratwurst sucks.
Sunday, I got up and started working on my grant in earnest. The final push, as it were. Paul managed to drag me out of the house for a bit in the afternoon, for a glorious little interlude involving sand and murky lake water. I also got my new glasses, which I have yet to take a picture of. *turns on webcam and shows Lin*
We came home, made dinner, and I worked on my grant until 2am. At some point in the evening, I scrapped the whole fucking narrative and started all over again.
I was up way early on Monday and hit the road to the office, arriving before even Marvel. When I walked into the office, the nighttime advocate stopped me to tell me that one of our clients was planning to go back to her abuser THAT MORNING... could I please go talk to her and maybe do some safety planning with her? (this client is in her 60s and heavily medicated a lot of the time).
So I had to go deal with that impending crisis before I could settle down to work on my grant.
I started off with trying to finish a couple of sections that I'd left partially done the night before. Shelly came in, Angie came in, and Angie pointed out to me that I'd missed one critical direction: the grant had to be in goal-objective-activity-output form. *#)$)_!_$#*.
This meant, essentially, I had to figure out what my goals and objectives were (this is harder than it sounds, believe me). Thank god I had Angie to help, or I would have been totally screwed.
What made it worse was... Angie, Shelly, Marvel and I had to go to Des Moines to attend a two-hour training on the Rape Prevention Education funds, smack dab in the middle of the fucking day. I took the laptop along and worked in the car both to and fro.
And turned in the grant two minutes before deadline... go me. Jesus. STRESS. I was exhausted after THAT. I needed a near-three-hour nap at the office before I could drive home (no joke).
Tuesday, I worked on computers. I reformatted my PC. I did some crap to my laptop. And I really didn't do a whole hell of a lot to earn my paycheck, if you want to know the truth. I ordered a new computer for Angie, and I did a bunch of bullshit stuff. I got home sometime around 10.
Wednesday I was up early, and I made two peaches and cream cheesecake coffeecake thingEEs. One for the office, one for the man of the house. And then I headed to my long-ass staff meeting... which I skipped out on early, because I had a date with destiny.
Or, rather, with a licensed Deep Tissue/Swedish massage therapist named Chris. I was expecting this hulking "Hans" type, and instead he was slight, nervous young man with a tongue piercing, whom I would not have guessed would be strong enough to give me the kind of massage I needed. We talked for a few minutes beforehand; I showed him (with his own fingers) where my implant was so he could, yanno, avoid it. Then he left the room and I disrobed and climbed under the sheet.
He conducted the entire massage in the dark. Not dimly lit... dark. It hurt like a motherfucking son of an asslicking bitch. And it was so worth it (she says, 36 hours later).
After that, I went to Staples to look for a monitor for Angie's new computer. That took nearly an hour, because the monitor they had advertised in their circular apparently doesn't exist.
I returned to the shelter to find that one of our clients, who is a Genuine Black Southern Woman, had prepared a MONSTROUS spread of soul food. Collards with ham hocks, cornbread, fried chicken, bbq chicken, corn with some kind of pepper, macaroni and cheese, potato salad, yams, and cake.
Lord... if I go to heaven when I die... this is what I'm going to be eating. It was, I kid you not, the single most perfect meal I have ever, ever, ever had. I had seconds of everything but the yams. I was agog. It was a culinary masterpiece. I have never before had a meal that was perfect in every way.
(yes, I'm still waxing poetic about this meal even this long afterwards... I just couldn't believe there was an entire meal that didn't miss a note.)
Shelly, Marvel, and I crunched some numbers which showed that we can't afford to hire Jennifer full-time (we are short a mere $6000, but that's $6000 that's going to be nearly impossible to find, which means I am completely and utterly screwed). I was working on god knows what until about 6:30, and then I headed home to Teh Draaaama with Brett, Paul, and my truck. Jeezus.
I was in bed early, and asleep pretty quick, too. I am still completely discouraged about the budget issue... it's making me wake up at night. Dub can relate.
(as an aside: I"m re-reading When the Mind Hears - A History of the Deaf. Lord. Such a book.)
Today, I was once again up early. I had to be in Ames by 8:40, because I had to give a speech at the Golden K Kiwanis this morning so they would give us money. The "Golden" refers to their golden years... there wasn't a man in the room under the age of 60.
I have a bunch more to write, but it's nearly 2am, there are fire trucks and an ambulance and police across the street, and I do think it's time for me to sleep. I went to Ottumwa today, tomorrow I go to Cedar Rapids, and Saturday Paul and I go to Missouri for a transport.
Sleep.
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