Author: anthony Page 48 of 78

Last week, I finally took myself to the doctor about my cold. My sleep was disrupted, my throat was on fire, and I was reaching new levels of cranky.  It was time to go.

But the cold wasn’t the only reason for going to the doctor. Since I go so infrequently, I tend to “save up” minor ailments and go in with a list. In addition to the head cold, I also have a consistently dry patch of skin on my arm (with what feels like a lump under it) and a pain in my hip.

The hip pain had prompted getting a new mattress, but that new mattress hadn’t helped. It’s usually worse in the morning when I get up and on the day of my doctor’s appointment, I marked the center of the pain with a sharpie on my hip with an “X”.

The nurse and the doctor were both intrigued by my “all over the map” ailments and amused by the sharpie mark. Hey, it made sense to me.

I got prescribed an antibiotic for my sinus infection and an anti-inflammatory for my hip. The doctor suspected it might be a deep bruise – that I don’t remember getting – or some kind of bone spur since it’s not at the joint.

The dry spot with the bump that isn’t a microchip – dang it – is not a big deal. He said it could be cut out/off – but I’d be trading a bump for a scar.

I went to the pharmacy next and still made it back to the office within an hour. Not bad.

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With the drugs kicking away in my system and already sort of helping, we took a trip up to Sandusky for the weekend to visit some friends that have an amazing condo right on the lake. And by “on the lake”, I mean that they are on a narrow peninsula and you can see the lake from both the front and back of the condo. We went to a winery on Saturday, visited some shops, and did some origami. Dinner was late in the evening – but amazing – and I fell asleep to the sound of the birds and the water.

Sunday was a boat ride out past Cedar Point and over to Kelly’s Island. We took a golf cart tour, saw some glacial grooves, then headed back to the condo on increasingly rough waters. At a more shallow area, they stopped the boat so I could go for a short swim before we headed back. Time then for a late lunch and then back to Akron. Really relaxing trip and a nice weekend.

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Back to work on Monday and a whirlwind of projects. I stopped in the middle of the day to get lunch at subway and encountered an idiot.

Many restaurants now have a sign at the counter asking people to refrain from using their cellphone while in line. I’d never seen anyone be so rude as to actually do that until that trip. The guy two people in front of me was texting on his phone and not paying attention. When it was his turn to order, he was oblivious – even after the woman asked what kind of sub he wanted.

The sinus infection and sore throat had already deepened my voice, but I dropped the bass and went full-on Vader.

“Dude,” I said, with warning and malice. Yes, I can make Dude sound scary.

His head jerked up, he came back to reality, and of course didn’t know what he wanted to order. At least he was paying attention now and there was hope. He figured out what he wanted and placed his order – and didn’t so much as glance at his phone until he was well away from the counter after getting his sandwich.

Dude, don’t get between me and food when I’m hungry.

I was out to eat recently and when the bill came I got out my phone to calculate the tip.

Now, I can do the math to figure the tip, but if it have a computer with me – and computers are math incarnate – why not have the computer figure the tip?

I put in the amount of the bill – the last digit was a 5 – and entered in the percent for the tip (18%, the service was quite good). The amount to tip came up – the last digit was a 0 – and then the calculator gave me the total of the bill plus the tip amount. And the last digit was a 4.

I started to write this on a bill – but the numbers jumped out at me. In what universe can you add 5 and 0 together and come up with 4?

I gave it a little thought and realized that when the calculator figured up the percentage, it kept track of more decimals than it displayed. And it rounded one way in the display of the amount – and rounded the other way when it did the total.

It was off by a penny.

I fixed this on the bill, signed it, and then went on my way.

Got me wondering, though, how many times this has happened before? And to how many people that use that same app?

It only caught my eye because the error was so glaring and I felt a little smug that the computer couldn’t do math.

Though, really, I should have noticed this kind of error long before now.

More troubling, I think, is that the computer in my phone did the math correctly – but instead displayed the wrong number.

I think…

I think it lied to me. And has been lying to me all along.

I keep warning people that the robot uprising is coming and I had visions of hulking machines with death rays – but apparently it’s waaaay more subtle than that.

Humanity is screwed.

At least the sandwich was good.

My cough – which is still hanging on despite my best efforts – has reached an non-productive stage. In medical terms, it means that I’m not bringing anything up – but it kinda sounds lazy to me.

“Get to work, you cough! Quit your lolly-gagging!”

Granted, it’s been busy this week and could use a break – but why not just be done instead of coming into work and then just sitting there?

“Take a vacation, cough, you’ve earned it,”

– ——

Jim suggested that I take some vitamin C and some echinacea. The vitamin C was easy – we had that in pill form – but didn’t have any echinacea. But, he had some growing in his garden – it’s also know as the coneflower. I asked if I could just eat a blossom and he looked at me oddly. We debated this for a bit and it boiled down to:

1. I figured fresher was better
2. Jim feared that I would get started and would eat my way through his garden like a goat. Also, he decided that the flower was the size of a muffin. Which didn’t seem like a problem to me.

In the end, he agreed to let me eat a few leaves and a few petals.

They kinda tasted like grass and I don’t know that I felt any different. He also pointed out that when his dogs eat grass, they throw up. I didn’t, but maybe I didn’t eat enough. I mean, not enough to feel any difference. The goal was NOT to throw up.
– ————

This evening, I’m rocking the cough drops and noticed the wrapper has the word Suppressant on it. Which is not unusual since that’s its… you know… job.

Except that the wrapper was wrinkled and I instead saw, Suppressa.

Which sounds like a Disney villain. Or a dominatrix.

“You’ve been a very naughty cough. Mistress Suppressa needs to put you in you place,”

[insert the crack of a whip]

And what this is REALLY telling me – and I hope that you agree – is that I very clearly need to get more rest.

I’m at that delightful stage of my summer cold where I’m coughing up interesting things. In colors not found in nature. Things of substance.

A few of these items decided they were ready to be expelled from my lungs this morning.

While I was driving.

I figured it was better to set them free into the world than try to keep them back. By the time I got to work, I had filled a convenient napkin in my car with things that were unspeakable. And chunky.

I’m better this evening. Still coughing things up, but it’s better in a variety of ways. The colors are muted and the content is less substantial. Hurts more, though.

And everything tastes terrible and the same. Except for the cough medicine. Which is orange colored – but, sadly, not orange flavored.

I hate summer colds. I hate winter colds too, but those you can just chalk up to the general misery of an ohio winter. Might as well stay inside and sneeze when the snow is on the ground 4 feet deep.

So, I’m trying to take it easy. And I say “trying”, because I’m not good at it. Even when I was sick enough on Wednesday to actually take a day off, I only slept part of the time and actually got online and did some work. I really need to find a book on how to relax properly ’cause I’m not very good at it. Or maybe a book-on-mp3 that I can listen to while I’m mowing.

Wait…

Never mind.

Time for another dose of orange-colored-not-orange-flavored cold medicine.

It started with a tickle in the back of my throat. Like I’d tried to eat a tree and got a twig caught. Since I hadn’t even been near a tree, it meant that I was getting sick.

This was last night and I just called the court’s office and found out I wasn’t on call for jury duty for today. Which was great – I could take the day off and get some rest. And use up one of my 1,000 plus sick days.

Except that I had a meeting.

With the new president for the university.

“Sorry, can’t have lunch with you today. I’ve gone and caught a sniffle,”

Nope.

I woke up this morning with a fever, massive headache, and a cough. The twig was gone – replaced by a general sandpaper feel. Progress!

I dosed myself with some dayquil and headed into the office. Just before lunch, I dosed myself again and had a cough drop. I also marinated myself with hand-sanitizer.

The plan was to keep from coughing and stay externally germ free – it wouldn’t do to get him sick.

I’m part of a committee on campus and this was why we’d been invited to lunch in his office.

I was expecting a boxed lunch but this was an amazing salad and a generous slice of chocolate cake. On real dishes and with real silverware. It was a little surprising, but very nice.

And the new president is great. He was personable, interested in what we had to say, and had a good sense of humor. I think he’s still a little overwhelmed at the new job, but making the best of it and working towards some well thought out goals.

We were there for about an hour and I only coughed once, into my sleeve.

We thanked him for lunch, had a short debrief session outside, and went back to the office. I checked in, answered a couple emails – and then the cold hit me hard and I went home for the rest of the day.

I didn’t quite nap – wasn’t sick enough to do that – so I just lay in bed, wide awake, and grumpy.

Thunder(cat) hopped up on the bed for a short visit, but didn’t stay long.

I got up and puttered around the house and felt a little better after I ate dinner. Still sick – but already on the mend.

I think I may reached a new low point in my life.

I went for a run today after work and I had on this gear:

1. A fitted baseball cap, worn backwards
2. A sleeveless shirt with an abstract design
3. “long” shorts. (yes, I know, I know)
4. Overly bright and colorful sneakers
5. Sunglasess and headphones.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror…

No, that’s a lie. I stopped to flex in the mirror.

…and I realized I was dressed – from head to toe – like a ‘bro’.

Or maybe even a ‘brah’.

So, I took a selfie just to be sure and yes, I was a ‘brah’.

I have included the photo as a proclamation of my shame.

The run went okay. I was slightly slower than usual – better breathing, but sore all over. I think I’ll try to keep up with it.

Jim got me a treat at World Market recently – a dark chocolate bar flavored with wasabi and ginger. And, as it turned out, habanero pepper.

Now, I’m a big fan of dark chocolate. Well, chocolate in general. And I really like wasabi and ginger. Sounded good on paper.

I cracked it open and had a piece. The flavor was mostly chocolate with some ginger – and the wasabi didn’t kick in until it was nearly gone. Good, I thought, but not the best thing to ever happen to chocolate.

Jim doesn’t like wasabi or ginger, but asked for a piece anyway.

He tried a tiny bite and…

I thought he was going to die.

He had a terrible look on his face and was so disgusted that he was sputtering. He ran to the fridge to get something to drink – loudly declaring that it was the worst thing he’d ever tasted.

It took him about 10 minutes to get settled down again – meanwhile, I calmly ate the rest of the bar.

Because I’m a bad ass.

————————–

Yesterday, I fired up google maps and plotted a running route near my house and the park for 1.5 miles. I ran cross-county in middle school – and was terrible at it – but figured my swimming would bolster my lack of recent running experience.

After work, I went home and changed into running gear and put on my headphones.

And went for a run.

The route was simple – just a big loop – and the terrain wasn’t challenging. As I was going along, I made a mental note to figure out…

“WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING?!?!?! IT’S ALMOST 100 DEGREES OUT WITH 99% HUMIDITY! I COULD DIE OUT HERE! WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?”

I walked a few times, but not as many as I expected. And I was tired when I got home, but not destroyed. After a cool shower, I was ready to go on with the rest of my day.

16 minutes and 20 seconds was my time for 1.5 miles. Not great, I guess, but not terrible. And not bad for just getting started.

I’ll swim today at lunch and maybe run again tomorrow.

Because I’m a bad ass.

Honestly, why do I have to keep telling people that? Shouldn’t it be obvious by now?

[insert overly dramatic sigh here]

I’ve got a game on my computer called Terraira. It’s a bit like a 2D minecraft with more monsters. It also has other characters/merchants that will hang around your house – if you provide housing for them.

The bare minimum housing consists of a dirt floor, 3 dirt walls, a wooden door, 1 table, 1 chair, and one light source. And a certain amount of square footage. So that’s what I built. The bare minimum for human habitation. As a quirk of the gameplay, I also had it set so that I could navigate around – but they didn’t know how to move past the platforms. And were thus trapped once they were assigned to their housing unit.

I was a virtual slumlord.

And – despite this being just a game – I started to feel bad when they tried to go outside and were trapped. The frantic opening and closing of the doors in their… well, let’s just call it like it is… hovels, started to get to me.

So, I built a new condominium complex for them. Sturdy stone walls, multiple exits, windows, multiple light sources, potted plants, banners, and paintings.

And then I razed the old dirt buildings and put in a park.

I think this says something good about me – but it also says some strange things too.

Anyway, I’m off to pick out wallpaper and paint. Those stone walls are looking a little drab…

I rarely take days off. I mean, like, hardly ever. I’m not much of a traveler and all the work is waiting for me when I get back – so if it’s a work-day, I’m usually at work.

The stress this past week had really been getting to me and I decided that I needed a break. So, I took Thursday off.

And it was really nice.

I played video games when I got up. Had some breakfast. Then went to the passport office to turn in my application. I was sweating bullets that I’d screwed something up – but I got everything turned in and the fees paid.

I watched a terrible movie – Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters – and had lunch with Jim’s puppies outside.

I did a little yardwork in my yard – and then headed back over to Jim’s to do some work in his yard.

The winter was rough on his rose bushes and he lost most of them. He got them cut down and moved out of the way, but there were too many to put in trash can at once. He’s been working on them every week – but since I had plenty of time on my hands I decided to lend him a hand while he was at work.

Took me about an hour and a half or so and I got a small blister from using the clippers – even wearing gloves – but I got everything cut into small pieces and loaded into the trashcan. I didn’t get scratched up at all – which was kind of amazing.

I went on home so that he would find the surprise and he told me later that he was putting the trashcan away and wondered why it was so heavy. And initially thought that they hadn’t taken his trash this week – and then noticed all the rose branches were gone.

I got an enthusiastic text message when he got home. 🙂  And he got out his mower right away to mow where the branches had been and the grass had grown up.

I think that may be one of my favorite things in the world – the pleasant surprise. And I think we need more of those.  It was a bit of work  – on my day off – but it was time well spent.

There’s a Subway within a reasonable walking distance from my house and I decided to walk there for dinner recently.

(everywhere – at least on the same continent – is within walking distance. If you have the time – it’s just not always a reasonable thing to do.)

We got there and went up to the counter where a complete mess of a woman was shouting at the folks behind the counter.

Now, I believe I may have mentioned my number-one rule at some point:

“Don’t f*#K with crazy people”

My natural inclination would have been to turn right around and walk right on out of there and find a different restaurant. Anyone that thinks it is appropriate to yell at someone working at subway is – by definition – crazy. Or at the very least, a jackass. But we were on foot and that changes things.

Essentially, the woman was complaining that they threw out her pizza when she walked away and left the store – even though her boyfriend was RIGHT THERE. The folks at subway replied that it was their policy and they didn’t know that they were together or that he was going to pay for the pizza – or that he was saving her spot or something. The woman wanted to talk to the manager, but eventually settled down (a little) when she was told she was already talking to the manager. They re-made her pizza, she paid for it, and left – and the rest of us in line were embarrassed for the species.

Or maybe that was just me.

I had placed my order in the middle of this chaos and while they were toasting my sub, the next group came in. The woman at the lead freaked out when they reached for her chicken and asked that they change gloves if they had touched pork.

At that point, my eyes rolled so far back in my head that I could see what I was thinking. And it was dark in there.  So dark…

IF the gloves had touched pork? Are you kidding me? It’s Subway. The air is laden with pork. Bacon, ham, salami. There is nothing in that restaurant that hasn’t had some kind of contact with “pork-air”.

It’s like going in a candy factory with an allergy to nuts and demanding that everyone remove everything that has touched a peanut.

Except that a peanut allergy can kill a person. Contact with unauthorized pork will, I dunno, upset God?

I guess that’s what it was about – some unspecified religious rule.

And it was a HUGE deal. There were knives swapped out, multiple sets of fresh gloves, special bread, a kind of waxed paper ballet – just a great honking pile of chaos.

Now, there was a stray piece of onion in the black olives and I could have made a case about that since my hatred of onions is very nearly a religion, but I kept my peace in the interest of getting on with my life.  I did smite some people in my head, but that doesn’t count.

We got our subs and ate at the table near the door – in case we needed to make a quick break.

As we were leaving, we asked the crew there if it was always like that – and they said it was.  With a kind of laugh of broken dreams and despair.

Which makes a good case to never go back there again – but also makes me wonder, again, about people. There is a lot of good in the world, but some folks seem determined to add to the general misery.

[insert head shaking here]

As a side note, the subs were good.  And I had bacon on mine.