It appears I have lost my sea legs today...the SS Novantrone has become listless and may be taking on water in the hull. No wait! That's just a full bladder...whew...
My day started off as they have the past 3 days...sleeping an unusual amount of hours (between 8-12...I'm generally a "between 4-8" hour sleeper) AND I didn't want to get out of bed when I did!
Today was the day I needed to venture outside the hut compound and drive a few miles to get my shoulders lowered...or in lay man's terms...a friggin' haircut. It has been nearly 3 months since I had my ever-balding "locks" shortened. I decided if I could in any way muster up the energy, I HAD to go...it was becoming a matter of life and death (you KNOW that gawd awful "flip" hair does when it reaches beyond the collar line!?!...life and death, I say).
I managed to dive into the shower right before my appointment (in hopes of leaving a "happy" scent) and trudged out to my car to take a lengthy back-roads drive to my stylist. When I'm this tired/nauseated/listless/etc., I know better than to hit the freeways with full force...for MY safety as well as others! I arrived only 5 minutes late.
Miss S (the stylist) was her usual chatty self...I was not. I tried to follow her conversations about her ex-husband, the born-again Christian girls who live upstairs, and her mother living in a sanitarium for two years with tuberculosis, but it WAS very difficult. The room was warm and all I could think about was getting back home and curling up for a nap...minus the nasty-flipping-curl from the back of my hairline. I managed a few "nuhuhs" and "really's?", feigning interest at various times. All the while my gut kept reminding me it was still unforgiving for putting it through that dayumed Novantrone again!
With my hairs snipped and minus a half day's wages, I left Miss S behind...she had already begun conversation with her next client, so the transition was quite smooth. I got in my car again with the idea of heading directly home (without passing "GO" or collecting my $200.00). And that's when a tiny voice in my head beckoned me saying, "You know you STILL need to go to the bank."
Drat. The little voice was right. But I didn't just need to find ONE bank...I needed to find TWO different banks (long story...I am constantly having to move my millions around to avoid the scrutiny of the IRS...LOL). I cut across town in a very circuitous route, hoping to spot my "home" bank and maybe have good fortune in finding the "other" branch bank nearby. No such luck.
After about 45 minutes of driving around an unfamiliar part of town, I finally decided to head back to my old neighborhood...a place where I KNOW both banks exists within blocks of each other. I gunned the car in the general direction of the old "hood", having to go several MILES out of my way. This was now approaching 2 1/2 hours since I left my home.
I hit the "other" bank first, then drove to my regular bank (remind me sometime to tell you about the phobia I have of going IN banks!), only to discover I had left a very important piece of paper at home!
"Fine", I thought. "There's a branch bank nearby my current residence. I'll just drive home, get the paper, and make it there before they close". Sounded simple enough.
I have no earthly idea at this point WHY traffic became a scene of miles of stopped car tops along my back-road escape route...but it was. The traffic jam was at least a mile long on the surface street. All I could do was try to stay awake and inch my way past the University of Washington in hopes of one day seeing the familiar sight of crack addicts hanging out at the bus stop in my neighborhood...45 minutes later, I nearly cried at the sight of seeing Dirty Mary (I have no idea what her real name is) trying to panhandle from unsuspecting bus travelers as they tried to get home from their day's work. I was, fortunately, too tired to get out of the car to kiss her cheek!
Once home inside the hut, I immediately scrapped the idea of "going out there" again and collapsed on my sofa...it is where I have been ever since, minus getting up to eat a salad and urinate twice.
And, once I complete this totally monotonous and trivial blog entry, my plan is to return there...just me, my cat, the sofa, and prime time TV...ahhh... the "joys" of the post Novantrone infusion...