In the middle of real life
Jun. 27th, 2004 02:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
urbandruidI'm attempting to be productive today (in something other than attmepting to make icons and searching out pictures, I mean). Go me. I'm cleaning out my books, as I have way too many, and no room at all for the ones I'd like to have out where I can get at them. But with double- and triple-stacked shelves, it's going to take a while.
I also seem to have pulled a muscle in my back. I went fishing under my corner desk (which started life as my alter/Pagan-type bookshelf, and has since turned into, I'm sad to say, a bit of a catch-all junk table) for something in a hurry- which is never a good idea, knocked over several other something elses in the process- knocking over a box of photo envelopes, which of course spilled all over the floor, back in the corner I can hardly get to, and I had books spread out all over the room proper. So rather than put all the books back on the shelves and excavate carefully to reach the photos, I took the lazy way out, leaned over the piles of junk, and lunged for the photos. Carefully.
I got them, at least, but my back has been bitching at me ever since. So I'm thinking more Tylenol.
I've already dosed myself with Clairatin and Flonase, and it's a mark of how annoyed I'm getting with my sinuses that I'll touch the nose spray, because I'm really not a big fan of it. But if I keep going like this, all plugged up and miserable, I'm going to get a sinus infection, which I would like even less than I like the nose spray. Hence, Flonase.
I'm sure the dust I'm stirring up in my room doing all this cleaning isn't helping, but trust me, if I waited for my allergies to mellow out before I did anything, I never would do anything.
I'm proud of myself, though. I have almost a full box of books to go to the library, and I'm nowhere near done yet. It can be painful, purging books, and there's a bunch of stuff that's not even up for debate- Harry Potter, Babylon 5 (since I only bought the decent books anyway), a few other things. But I keep looking at stuff, wondering when I last read it, asking myself if I want to move it (again). Because someday we're getting out of this apartment (which, by the way, is the most dusty place I have ever lived, I think) and everything will have to be packed up, and hauled down those bloody stairs.
I am never living in an upstairs apartment again. I can't deal. Not only is it a pain to haul everything in and out, it's not exactly one hundred percent safe. Ever since I had that surgery last summer and talked my eye doc into augmenting the reading power on my bifocals (because have you seen college textbooks lately? The prices go up and the print size goes way down) I've had trouble with stairs. And there was that time a couple months ago when I fell down the apartment stairs, and was worried enough about the ankle I smacked several times on the way down to get it x-rayed. Because it sure hurt enough to be broken. It wasn't, thankfully, but still, no thanks, you know?
Okay. I need to go get something else to drink now- gods that allergy stuff makes me thirsty, not to mention wanting to keep the kidneys happy with me- and pop some Tylenol.
I also seem to have pulled a muscle in my back. I went fishing under my corner desk (which started life as my alter/Pagan-type bookshelf, and has since turned into, I'm sad to say, a bit of a catch-all junk table) for something in a hurry- which is never a good idea, knocked over several other something elses in the process- knocking over a box of photo envelopes, which of course spilled all over the floor, back in the corner I can hardly get to, and I had books spread out all over the room proper. So rather than put all the books back on the shelves and excavate carefully to reach the photos, I took the lazy way out, leaned over the piles of junk, and lunged for the photos. Carefully.
I got them, at least, but my back has been bitching at me ever since. So I'm thinking more Tylenol.
I've already dosed myself with Clairatin and Flonase, and it's a mark of how annoyed I'm getting with my sinuses that I'll touch the nose spray, because I'm really not a big fan of it. But if I keep going like this, all plugged up and miserable, I'm going to get a sinus infection, which I would like even less than I like the nose spray. Hence, Flonase.
I'm sure the dust I'm stirring up in my room doing all this cleaning isn't helping, but trust me, if I waited for my allergies to mellow out before I did anything, I never would do anything.
I'm proud of myself, though. I have almost a full box of books to go to the library, and I'm nowhere near done yet. It can be painful, purging books, and there's a bunch of stuff that's not even up for debate- Harry Potter, Babylon 5 (since I only bought the decent books anyway), a few other things. But I keep looking at stuff, wondering when I last read it, asking myself if I want to move it (again). Because someday we're getting out of this apartment (which, by the way, is the most dusty place I have ever lived, I think) and everything will have to be packed up, and hauled down those bloody stairs.
I am never living in an upstairs apartment again. I can't deal. Not only is it a pain to haul everything in and out, it's not exactly one hundred percent safe. Ever since I had that surgery last summer and talked my eye doc into augmenting the reading power on my bifocals (because have you seen college textbooks lately? The prices go up and the print size goes way down) I've had trouble with stairs. And there was that time a couple months ago when I fell down the apartment stairs, and was worried enough about the ankle I smacked several times on the way down to get it x-rayed. Because it sure hurt enough to be broken. It wasn't, thankfully, but still, no thanks, you know?
Okay. I need to go get something else to drink now- gods that allergy stuff makes me thirsty, not to mention wanting to keep the kidneys happy with me- and pop some Tylenol.
