A better day...

...than yesterday, that's for sure. For one thing, the headache from hell has more or less evaporated. I slept better last night than I have in a few days, and when I woke up this morning, I didn't feel like I'd been beaten, dredged through flour, and fried. So yeah...that's an improvement!

We had the wildly anticipated tech refresh at work today, which meant that roughly 70% of the new computers didn't work. I spent most of my morning helping other people go through their configuration set up and troubleshooting all the stuff our crackerjack IT team managed to screw up. Here's a prime example of your tax dollars at work: The gal in charge of coordinating the tech refresh told everyone over and over not to call her about their computer issues; they had to send an e-mail so she would have a documentation trail. Well, that's great...unless that sterling IT team forgot to load the freakin' e-mail program, which is what happened to one very short-tempered woman on my floor. By the time I got to my desk and started configuring my own brand new (so they say) laptop, it was nearly lunch time.

My new laptop is fast. That's the good news. The bad news is that my Excel program is, well, possessed by aliens. I use Excel a lot, so I'm going to have to call our national help desk tomorrow and spend, oh, at least 20 to 30 minutes on the phone with them in order to get them to fix the problem.

Fun stuff, no?

Despite DH's bad summer cold, we had a good, long bike ride tonight. It's not muggy at all, and the sunset has turned the puffy white clouds into pink lace. Wonder of wonders, I've finally found an insect repellent that actually repels mosquitoes: Burt's Bees all-natural bug-be-gone (not the real name, but you get the drift). It smells like mint and some other pleasantly sharp herb. I think I smell rather tasty, but apparently, the mosquitoes do not agree. Huzzah!!

Funny but true church story: During Bible study, Pastor D was talking about the altar guild at his old church. The head of the altar guild was very particular and had special gloves that the ladies used to carry the communion silver. He said that if she'd had her way, the guild ladies would have worn special aprons, special gloves, and special booties. Well, I heard the man say "special boobies." And I wasn't the only one who heard that. Chaplain Crandall reared back in his chair about the same time I did. "What did he say?" I asked DH about the same time Chappy blurted, "Did he say 'boobies'?" He heard me snickering and turned to me to confirm that yes, I heard 'boobies' too. "We're in the same gutter!" Chappy exclaimed while his wife looked mortified. So of course, I had to 'fess up to Pastor D about what Chappy and I thought we heard. He regarded me gravely as I told the story, then pronounced me beyond redemption. And then he cackled.

Sheesh. I'm gettin' grief from all sides these days. ;)

So tomorrow is hump day, and it will be one of those short days for me because I have to drive to M'head to see the doc. I'm thinking my car will suddenly veer into Starbucks for no apparent reason on the way back to work. It might even veer over to Panera Bread for a salad. I'm just sayin'....

Cycling

A couple of posts ago, I mentioned that I'd decided to buy myself a bike. I did some research online and read about the different kinds of bikes, how they compare to each other in comfort and price, that sort of thing. After checking out Target and Wal-Mart, I asked my chiropractor for advice, since he's an outdoorsy type. He likes to bike as well, and he recommended a local bike shop in Havelock. I like giving business to local folks, so after work one hot Friday, dear hubby and I stopped in. A little more than an hour later, we left with two Trek bicycles and a definite appreciation for the gentleman who owns and runs The Bike Depot.

You know how you can meet someone and know right away that they're genuinely into what they do for a living? This guy was like that. He loves biking and bikes, and he genuinely likes talking to people about bikes and helping them find the right bike. He talked to me about what I want to do---bike for exercise and relaxation, as well as explore the area. He explained the physiology of biking and how our hips and knee joints work when we pedal. He wasn't trying to make a sale. As a matter of fact, he gave me a catalog with good candidates marked and encouraged me to shop around. When I told him I was really interested in the Trek bike he had in the shop, he explained everything about it to me: best surfaces for riding (pavement and hard-packed dirt/gravel), how the gears and brakes worked, why the frame was the right size for my height, why the tires looked the way they did, and then he told me to me take the bike outside and ride it around so I could make sure I liked it.

In case you can't tell, he impressed me. A lot. And I don't impress easily because I'm cynical and crabby.

So hubby and I have been riding our bikes daily since then, with just a few days off due to weather (lightning and a metal frame don't mix), bad air quality from a fire, and a couple of instances where one or the other felt unwell.

I wish I could adequately describe how I feel when I'm on that bike. Cycling helps me focus. My brain quiets down, and the crap from the work-day falls away. I love the soundtrack of cycling: the faint tick-tick-tick-tick-tick of the wheel spokes when we coast, the rush of birdsong, breezes rustling the trees and scattering fallen magnolia leaves so that they sound like pages turning, the excited yips and woofs of neighborhood dogs when we ride by.

I see something different every time we ride, even if we follow the same paths. One day, I see everyone's flowers are blooming, the splashes of color bright against the green of grass and hedge. On other days, I notice statuary: St. Francis gazing at his cupped hands, a crane arching its verdigris neck, a blue stone rabbit standing sentry by the steps. Then there's the joy of the unexpected: rounding a corner and seeing a massive concrete rhino basking in the sun; meeting a pigeon-toed geese couple in a cul-de-sac; catching the quickest glimpse of a bashful fox; hearing the drumbeat whir of wings as doves take to the air; spying the heavy damask face of a magnolia blossom as big as a salad plate; riding through a sweet scent-wall of honeysuckle hidden in a strand of trees.

Cycling has helped me ditch my self-consciousness about my chubby, farmer's-tanned arms; I wear sleeveless t-shirts and tank tops to take advantage of any coolness in the air. I don't obsess about how my big butt must look perched on that little seat. I don't worry about what the sleek black helmet is doing to my hair. I just pedal, and I feel myself smiling because my heart is light. My heart and lungs work together. I can feel my blood flowing. Even when I'm sweating and my bad knee starts to twinge because it's going to rain soon, I can tell my body is thankful for the exercise, for the chance to soak up late afternoon light, for the reprieve from artificial light and computer screens and stress.

My bike is worth every penny I spent on it, and I'm worth every minute I spend cycling instead of working on my never-ending to-do list.

Life is good, y'all.

Perspective

Sometimes, I really need it, and sometimes, I'm too deep into my own sh*t to get it.

So I go read a cycling blog, which is not just a cycling blog. It's a blog written by a man who loves his wife beyond all measure. She has cancer. He is caring for her, and he's doing it with bravery and tenderness and love.

Go read: http://www.fatcyclist.com/

And keep the family in your prayers, 'k?

Things I realized the hard way this week

Things I realized the hard way this week:

1. Doctors don't know everything.
2. More of something isn't necessarily better.

My GP gave me a prescription for metformin, a medication that helps control blood sugar. She had me start at the low dose--500 mg once a day. A week later, I was to increase the dosage to 1000 mg. A week after that, the dose goes to 1,500 mg. A week after that increase, I'd top off at 2,000 mg a day.

That's a lot of medicine for someone who's in the early stages of diabetes. I asked my doc if I should check my blood sugar so I could see how the med was affecting it. "Nope," said she. "You'll be fine."

Hmmm. Well, I felt okay until I hit the 1,500 mg mark, and then my back started to hurt. It took a couple of days of pain and discomfort before it hit me: my kidneys were hurting. I knew that the med is metabolized through the kidneys, so I got on the phone with the doc's office. The alarm in the nurse's voice told me what I suspected: the dose was too high for my body to process. She told me to back down to 1,000 mg a day, and now I have to go in on Monday to have kidney function tests run.

Jimminy. If I've screwed up my kidneys, I'm going to be PISSED.

3. I'm not MBA material.

I started grad school again, this time to get an MBA in human resource management. I really don't want an MBA, but I've been told by folks at work that it will make me more 'competitive.'

Hmmm. Okay. Well, I'm on class number 2, and I'm ready to claw my own eyes out. It's not that the coursework is particularly difficult or boring. I just don't want an MBA. My heart isn't in it. And I don't really see the point in going after the MBA to get a promotion that I have slim chances of getting because (a) I don't have a willie, and (b) I don't have an engineering degree. The Good Ol' Boys' Network is alive and well in the federal gummint, and where I work, if you're not an engineer, you're pond scum. So why am I doing this?

If I'm going to put my finite amount of time and energy into another degree, I'd rather direct that energy towards something that sets me on fire: tech writing, literature, psychology, library science. I guess I'm really not that interested in competing with The Big Boys. Glad I realized this early in the program.

4. I really need to have more fun.

I've decided to buy myself a bicycle. I loved bike riding as a kid. It's an outdoor activity that won't kill my knees or my crabby back. Even though it will soon be hot and muggy here, I can generate a semi-decent breeze on a bike. That's my plan.

I'm researching local hiking trails. I found out that there are some nifty trails around our local beaches. It's good exercise, plus there's that fresh air factor.

5. There's nothing wrong with being lazy.

There were a couple of days this week when I felt like having myself committed. Between perimenopause symptoms, the damn depression, and the medication/kidney problems, I've been feeling like I was going to crawl out of my own skin. So instead of forcing myself to do the stiff-upper-lip, keep-on-keepin'-on thing, I've been sitting outside on our back deck for an hour or so each afternoon. A good book, birdsong, sunlight, soft breezes, and the occasional cursing of a feisty squirrel have done wonders for me. It's a shame it took me this long to figure out that pretending that I don't feel crappy doesn't do me any good. Sometimes you just need to slow down and chill.

Thank God Friday is around the corner. Can I get an amen from my sistahs? ;)