The Clock Strikes Again

I've been sick, still am, but I decided I could make it into work today. Runny nose and all.

So, I bundled myself up with my winter coat, scarf, and mittens. This is November in Wisconsin. There is snow on the ground. I need the mittens. 

I successfully made it into work without my boogers freezing on my face or me throwing up on the side of the road. 

This is a good morning! 

I got in and all settled at my desk and I looked at my schedule. 

It was 7 o'clock and everybody was at stupid journal club this morning and were not getting in until 8:30! 

Journal club (where all the physical therapists in our health system get together and read medical journals to keep up to date on treatments) is my day to sleep in! 

I could have slept an extra hour!  

I looked at the clock in disappointment and anger. 

As my anger fueled my hatred for this inanimate object (yes, the clock has the upper hand this time) I debated if I should clock in and sit and do nothing for the next hour and a half, go take a nap in my car, or go eat breakfast. 

After a minute or two of internal debate, as I gave the clock my squinted death glare, I finally bundled up once again and trekked back out to my car. 

Seeing as it was freezing outside and too cold to nap in my car I went to the little diner across the street and got a cup of coffee and breakfast. 

I popped my headphones in and watched last night's episode of  Marvel's Agents of Shield on my phone as I sipped my coffee and downed my eggs and hash browns.  

It was actually really relaxing. I feel refreshed and rejuvenated in between my sneezing attacks. 

Normally in the morning I hurriedly get ready with my eyes closed and crash into work just before I'm late and feel rushed and behind the rest of the day. 

I should get up early and do this more often.

But that would require waking up before 5:00 AM!!

And that just doesn't sound appealing in the least bit. 

I think I'll stick with the rushed frenzy thank you very much. 

How Mona Dies

I'm sitting at home minding my own business and super busy (sick and watching Netflix in my pj's) when I get this text from Mona:

Mona: If I got murdered who do you think did it and why?

A strange text you may think, but I jumped right in.

Me: Becky 

(She is one of our closest friends and ex-roommate)

Me: because you said something about her life she didn't like

Me: How about me?

Mona: Lol...if it happened to you I would say your job

Mona: Ahh. Would it be an accident or planned out?

Me: Crime of passion, but Becky has been halfheartedly thinking about it for years.

Mona: Gasp.

Mona: jk I take back this question!

Me: The reason she finally snapped was due to the tumor growing in her brain which she secretly blames you for

Mona: Lol why does she blame me for the tumor

Me: It was the cheese puffs 

(back story: Mona & Becky have this game where they get a big bin of cheese puffs from Sams Club and catch them in their mouths by SPITTING them back and forth to each other...gross I know)

Me: she was sure of it

Me: With the tumor she couldn't hold back her rage as you once again called her out on one of her lies

Me: Why did it really matter if she was at home doing the laundry or out sleeping with the strange man she picked up at the bar

Mona: lol

Me: As you rattled on in your condescending tone, she picked up the chocolate cake sitting on the table and forced you to eat until you ate yourself to death.

Me: just like you tried to do to her before 

(Mona & Becky also have this weird thing were they eat whatever the other puts in their mouth...Mona fed Becky half a cake before and Becky didn't stop her) 

Mona: Lololololol

Me: It was a sweet death

Mona: oh man

Me: I would eat cake every day in memorial to your life and death

Me: Would you seek revenge for my death?

Mona: Oh! It would be a long process. Revenge show like. It would involve falling in love and sleeping with men...but I would do it for you.

Me: good I would expect nothing less

Me: Now I'm really craving a piece of cake. 

Extreme Hobbies

So one of my coworkers, Kari, came to me in dire need of help.

Yes, she sought me out in all of my wise wisdom for answers. 

She was looking for a winter hobby that would get her out of the house and help her to be more social. 

Being the unsocial hermitis workaholic bookworm that I am, I had to Google it. 

Now when I first started looking I admit I was attracted to the more antisocial type hobbies 

Like this: 

Ship in a Bottle

It’s the classic old man hobby: putting intricate model ships in a glass bottle. Amaze kids with your ship in a bottle displays! They’ll spend the rest of their childhood trying to figure out exactly how you did it. Placing a ship in a bottle (or impossible bottle) is a task that takes dedicated focus, patience, and a steady hand. http://www.artofmanliness.com/2010/01/06/45-manly-hobbies/ 

AND yes this came from a manly hobbies website. All the woman's hobbies were sewing and making a quilt, not what I was looking for exactly. 

I also suggested archery and whittling from this site, but she wasn't too keen on weapons use as she would end up hurting herself and others. 

Next I suggested this:

Minimalism

A lifestyle interest

This might not sound exactly like a hobby, but it sure is a lifestyle choice. Dabbling in certain lifestyles can be hobbies and interests for adults, so I'm sticking with this!

Here are some minimalism projects:

• change to simple decorations and furniture (declutter, naturally)
• stop using things like a wallet, a watch, a phone...
• pare down your wardrobe (this is a pretty popular one, make a goal like only 20 or 10 items). Here'sanother example.
• the 100 things challenge (pare your possessions down to 100 things).
• make as many things digital (and not physical) as possible, such as files, photos, cds and dvds etc.
•  http://www.squidoo.com/the-world-s-biggest-list-of-hobbies

She wasn't too keen on this idea. 

From this site I also suggested street graffiti, joining the circus, or miming. But all she had to say was that she knew someone who joined the circus..."he was a real clown".

So I continued on with my search.

Ninja Turtle dog from DogboardinginPortland

Competitive dog grooming

Ever want to turn your Saint Bernard into a tiger?  Your Bichon into a panda?  How about a Ninja Turtle?  This one actually requires a little skill and some artistic vision.  Professional groomers compete by clipping, dyeing, and combing dogs into the craziest animals, objects, and characters.  This hobby/career is one that has to be seen to really be appreciated http://communities.washingtontimes.com/neighborhood/world-our-backyard/2013/jan/25/11-unusual-and-bizarre-hobbies/

Kari mentioned that she likes puppies and dogs, so I thought she would appreciate this one. But she doesn't have the dedication or the dog to do it. 

This next one sounds really cool, but again with her lack of dedication she couldn't hack it. 

Newsraiding

Consisting of appearing as a bystander in the background of television shows, this is probably the most difficult of all the hobbies listed.   Very few have the resolve, planning skills, and perfect star-alignment to call this a hobby and not a mere pipe dream. http://communities.washingtontimes.com/neighborhood/world-our-backyard/2013/jan/25/11-unusual-and-bizarre-hobbies/

Who knew that Newsraiding would be such work? 

This hobby really sounds more like her speed: 

http://instantjoy.tumblr.com

But then I found it!!

The hobby that takes the cake!

I have never heard of this hobby before and I feel like I have been incomplete up to this point in my life!!

How did I go so long without knowing of this wonderful hobby? 

How does anyone go through life not knowing about this hobby?!?!

My parents taught me nothing!

EXTREME IRONING! 

http://dailycaller.com/2013/06/11/10-strange-hobbies-people-actually-spend-time-doing-slideshow/extreme-ironing-3/

I can't even...I just LOVE IT!!

http://www.smosh.com/smosh-pit/articles/extreme-ironing-1

http://www.smosh.com/smosh-pit/articles/extreme-ironing-1

http://www.smosh.com/smosh-pit/articles/extreme-ironing-1

Extreme Ironing (also called EI) is an extreme sport and a performance art in which people take ironing boards to remote locations and iron items of clothing. According to the Extreme Ironing Bureau, extreme ironing is "the latest danger sport that combines the thrills of an extreme outdoor activity with the satisfaction of a well-pressed shirt." ^(Wikipedia)

How?! Just how does one even come up with these amazing things? There is even and Extreme Ironing Bureau!!

My Mind is blown! 

In the end, due to our lack of ironing skills (I may only own a mini ironing board which I never use, instead I just don't wear my clothes if they look too wrinkly), and Kari's lack of dedication, we settled on starting a book club where we may or may not read the book and get together to pretend to talk about it while we drink wine.

Sounds more like our type of hobby.  

Dog Sitting

On top of my two real jobs (Medical Receptionist and Barista) and Business school I also dog-sit as a pastime activity. (I know I'm super lame) 

Yesterday one of my clients asked me to come over for dinner. 

Guys. I am a very socially awkward person.

Especially in these types of situations. I get nervous and nauseous and I have no idea what to say or do. 

I like to believe, in my head, that I pull these situations off well without letting anyone else know how awkward I feel, but probably not. 

I didn't know what she wanted. I had done this before for her. I know her dogs. Why was she asking me over? 

I felt like I was being called to the principle's office. I felt like I was going to puke. What were we going to talk about for so long? 

I bucked up and happily agreed to go over for pizza. 

One of my main motto's for life (after why the hell not?) is fake it til you make it. 

I had to take a deep breath before I rang the doorbell, but I did it. I didn't run away in fear, like I really wanted to. 

And guess what?! I survived. 

I didn't throw up or die. I even carried on conversation like a normal human being. I'm very proud of myself. 

It did help that she did most of the talking. 

And it turns out that she wanted to ask me over because they are going away for 18 days!

The most I've ever done is about a week. 

I can see why she wanted to have me over to talk about it. There are a lot more things to be taken care of when you're there a month verses a weekend. 

She retold me several things that I already knew. She just kept saying "It just makes me feel better to tell you again". I understand completely. It's hard to leave your dogs for so long, but if I didn't know where the dog food was I think I would be in trouble. 

I'm excited about it. It's like a new adventure. Plus I am way less awkward around the dogs. 

Itty Bitty Pity Party

I started this morning feeling really depressed and sorry for myself.

I didn't want to get out of bed. I was ready to give up on work and school and paying bills. I just wanted to curl up in my little ball of blankets and never come out.

I almost did it! I almost said forget it all! 

But then I started to feel guilty for thinking about it.

I started to feel sick thinking about calling into work.

How do you like that...I can't call into work because I feel too guilty and it makes me sick! (this has been a lifelong problem and not an isolated incident)

I rebelliously laid in bed an extra three minutes, before I begrudgingly got up and went to work.

I did use my pouty face the whole way to work just to let the world know how unhappy I was about the whole thing.

When I walked into my building I found one of my older patients locked inside her car.

This man was trying to get the doors open, but apparently the locks were frozen shut.

I tried to help, but the locks were not budging.

She was terribly upset that she couldn't go to her appointment and slightly afraid she wouldn't be able to get out of her car at all. She left to drive around and warm up her car, so she could hopefully get out.

I thought to myself, "Luna, here you are feeling sorry for yourself over nothing, when you could be trapped inside of your own car."

Okay, so maybe that isn't the most tragic thing in the world, but it made me think that I don't have it so bad and I should stop feeling sorry for myself.

Then I read this: This Guy’s Wife Got Cancer, So He Did Something Unforgettable. The Last 3 Photos Destroyed Me.

Then I saw a lady who got kicked in the face by a horse.

My little pity party this morning was starting to feel foolish.

I'm really a mixed bag of emotions right now. I am still feel a little depressed for myself, I feel ashamed for feeling this way, I feel sorry for the lady locked in her car, I want to cry for the man and his wife, and I feel inspired by the lady who got kicked in the face by a horse and still manages to have a smile on her face.

So, what I'm basically saying is I have a lot of crap to do I don't want to do, but things are looking up, and I want to cry about everything.

You know...normal girl stuff.

(I think I might be PMSing)

The Alarm Clock Games

Daylight savings is kicking my butt!

You get all nice and comfortable. Your internal clock can almost wake you up naturally.

Then someone makes you change your stupid clocks by an hour!

You wouldn't think that an hour would make that much difference, but it feels like I packed up and move to the other side of the world!

It's already Wednesday and I'm still not adjusted. I hate it.

My alarm clock hates daylight savings too.

I change my clock Saturday night before I go to bed and I get up Sunday without a hitch, but then comes Monday. The clock hates Mondays.

I set my newly adjusted alarm clock to the time I need to get up and fall asleep expecting it to work properly. Just like every other day of the year, just like yesterday.

But Monday comes and I wake up to find my clock has decided to jump an extra hour!

Every daylight savings Monday, without fail, for the past three years.

I wake up and find I'm either ready for work by 4 AM before I realize what happened or I'm running around like a mad fool trying not to be late for work.

Three years of this!!!

I have this unrealistic expectation that maybe this time it will be the right time. I quadruple check the alarm clock before I go to bed and go to sleep, fully putting my trust in this little clock that has failed me time and time again.

For awhile I was positive I was so paranoid about waking up at the right time and not being late for work, that I changed it in my sleep.

But it's far to coincidental for it to happen this many times without fail.

I'm not that reliable, even in my dreams.

I'm thinking that somehow it's set to change at daylight savings time, but it's calendar is off by a day. I'm just not sure how to fix it.

I should look into getting a new alarm clock, but now I'm kind of attached to it and this little game we play twice a year.

I proud to say that this was the first time I won the game and beat the alarm clock! I had to bring in my ringer and set a different alarm, but I did it!

I AM SMARTER THAN THE ALARM CLOCK!!

American Box Pickers

After the dismal Tuesday of uncertainty I had as of Tuesday with the coffee shop relocation, my coffee boss finally stepped it up and got things rolling and clued us in on the plans.

It's still not as smooth as it could be with her disappearing every now and then, leaving us with ALL the work.  This is especially disheartening since we are volunteering our time for the move, but I'm trying not to dwell on that.

We have been working like crazy! We had to be out yesterday, literally.

At one point we ran out of boxes, so Mandy sent her sister, Jessie, and I box hunting.

The best place they have found to get empty moving boxes is Woodman's Grocery Store. 

This is a huge grocery store, people. It's so big that I never go there.

I absolutely HATE grocery shopping, it's like pulling teeth. When I have to go I want to get in and out as quick as possible. Woodman's is not quick when it takes you 20 minutes to walk across the store to get a gallon of milk.

I find it so terrible that, even though it is right across the street from me and the cheapest prices in town, I would rather drive farther and pay more than go there.

I made an exception in this case, because we weren't actually grocery shopping.

Jessie had done this before, so I thought we would just make a quick stop at the back entrance, ask for some boxes and be done.

Little did I know! 

Jessie took me inside the main entrance, grabbed at cart, and told me we had to go box picking.

And by box picking she meant we had to go up and down every isle and look for this big bins full of boxes and find the boxes we wanted.

Now, well I said I hate grocery shopping in this store, I found this experience to be hilariously funny and wonderful!


Imagine a huge grocery store, isle packed with people getting groceries, staring at these two girls opening up large box bins in the middle of the isles picking boxes!

The looks we got.

I felt like I was on the show American Pickers were they go to people junked up houses and pick those old buildings to find treasure.

Jessie said when she came in the first time she asked a lady for boxes and lady said "this is going to sound strange..."

It was strange, but it was also, hands down, the best part of the move!