I'm just your average, everyday, divorced 38 year old girl -- overweight, tragically unhip,
and trying to make a life for myself. I live with two furry beasts, Dave and Abby, whose
feline mission in life is to choke me with their fur. Nothing special.
Friday afternoon. I started this post much earlier today but it's just been crazed here at work and I'm just now getting back to it.
The title of the post has a double meaning: it rained yesterday, which provided much needed moisture for fire fighting as well as a nice air filter for all of the junk still floating about, and, after cruising along receiving small numbers of jobs (I'm being generic here because I don't want to reveal where I work) each week, my team has received volume. These things are everywhere. Every time I turn around, there's more coming in. Although this is a little daunting at first blush, it's exciting, too, because there are a finite number of these jobs that we're responsible for and, if we get enough of them now, we might not be burning the midnight oil around the holidays. For most of you, that probably doesn't sound like much. Here in my division of VLSCI, the November, December, and January holidays just aren't very festive because we're busy putting together and releasing a whole lot of products. I haven't had more than Thanksgiving Day, Christmas Day, and New Year's Day off (unless they fall on a weekend) since I moved to this division, and the prospect of having the day after Christmas off fills my heart with hope and gladness. I actually jinxed myself by purchasing airline tickets for the red eye to TriCities, TN on Christmas Eve way back in August, just hoping it would work and knowing that I'd probably have to pay the $100 change fee to move it to December 26th instead. Gosh, I really, really, really hope this works out! Heck, I'll pitch in, too. Ordinarily, union rules forbid me, as a Project Manager, from doing any actual work, but I'm willing to risk being ostracized and drummed out of the corps on the chance that I can spend Christmas Day (from 10:30am on) with the man that I love. Watch, I'll get stuck at Hartsfield in Atlanta Christmas Day because of weather or something!
Still haven't come to any profound conclusions about the eating and walking thing. It looks safe outside, but they're still telling us that the air is bad, so I'm holding on and waiting for a few days. The food? Well, I just don't know what to say about that, so I'll just say nothing. Life goes on and I'll take care of this stuff in a little while, once I've gotten past the whole fire/car break in thing. Perhaps my priorities are skewed, but the food is soothing me and I just don't want to fight that right now.
Weeks to LA Marathon: 19 Weeks to Christmas: 7 Exercise since last Thursday: None. Sigh.
Thursday morning. While there are still fires burning, the air, thankfully, has cleared up to the point that I was able to open my windows and sliding door last night. You can't know the relief that brought unless you've been cooped up inside your house without any fresh air for four days. Stale? Oh, yes! I still feel horrible for the people whose homes are in danger but I am very relieved to be able to breathe again.
So, where am I with the marathon? Losing weight and getting healthy? Well, the short answer is that I'm not sure. The past few days have been less than promising on all fronts. Eating whatever I want, whatever soothes my anxiety, and no walking. That last, however, I do have medical recommendations to justify, as they are telling us to hold off prolonged time out of doors or any sort of exertion for another week or so because of the air quality. Yes, I know that I just got through telling you that I've got my windows open, but I'm not out there huffing and puffing lots of the nasty stuff into my lungs. The gym at the office still smells putrid and I know, no matter what the VLSCI upper management say, that it's not good that we're in the office at all, much less anyone pounding away in the gym. My training schedule has me doing a 13 mile walk on Saturday, which I still believe I can do although I'm not sure where I should do it. I can't get to LA because, with my credit cards cancelled, I can't rent a car, so it would have to be somewhere local. Perhaps down Harbor Drive by the Bay? There is always a great onshore breeze down there, which would be a constant supply of non gritty air. If anyone reading this happens to know of a good 13 mile route by the water in San Diego, I'd love a recommendation. Perhaps I should just start the Subway diet for a little while? You know, eat a sensible breakfast and then have Subway sandwiches for lunch and dinner. Yes, I'd probably get really sick of them after a little while, but they're very filling and that's one of the key components of success for me. Something to think about.
Weeks to LA Marathon: 19 Weeks to Christmas: 7 Exercise since last Thursday: None. Eek!
Wednesday morning (just 48 hours after nearly losing my home and most of my worldly possessions). To the unspeakable bastard(s) who broke in to my car Monday night,
How could you do it??? I come to my car, only the night before full of everything precious in the world to me, ready to go to work to be with my team, and I notice, strangely, that my glove box is open. I think, "gosh, that was careless of me, leaving that open", and I start reaching over to put it all back in. That's when I notice the huge pile of glass on my back seat. And the smashed in back window. And then, most horrific of all, the great, gaping hole in my center console where my stereo used to be. My eight year old, back lights don't work so you'll never know what station you're on unless you use my presets, purchased with my entire bonus in 1995 stereo. That's when the tears started. Yes, you useless piece of human garbage, you did what the damned fire couldn't do, you made me cry. After three nights with no sleep and the fear of losing everything, your senseless, stupid act was the last straw.
It wasn't until several hours later that I realized the full extent of what you'd done in your little infantile crime spree. I put it down to the lack of sleep and the confusion about what was where in the house because of the packing and unpacking, but it was when I was sitting in the chair at the insurance adjustor's office that I realized that my gym bag had been in the trunk and wasn't now. My gym bag. Containing my trusty running shoes, my training log, my training jersey (can't be replaced, and is probably gracing the bottom of a dumpster), my Teva sandals, my Nike athletic sunglasses to keep the sweat from pouring into my eyes while I walk, my fanny pack, my Walkman CD player and about 10 workout CDs, my Clarins sunscreen for children (keeps my sensitive skin from getting irritated), my Balance bars, my favorite ball cap (Andersen Consulting, also irreplaceable), and my Body Glide. You won't be able to make a penny off of most of this stuff, perhaps the Walkman and the glasses. My shoes are thrashed, having put in 200 miles with me since August 16. My Tevas hike on the beach with me all the time, and there's sand embedded in the soles that just won't come out. The training jersey? I caught one of the sleeves on a prickle bush last week on a 12 mile walk and it's got a tear in it.
Of course, I had also shoved several other items in there when I grabbed it to evacuate on Sunday and that's where you really hit the jackpot. Among other items (including my passport, an expired drivers license, receipts from my last business trip, and both my and my ex husband's birth certificates) was my VLSCI company credit card. Yup, you sure got lucky there. What did you do with it, oh infinitely smart one? You tried to get a cash advance with the wrong PIN (not surprising, since there is no PIN associated with that card), you spent $11.75 at Exxon Mobil and $2.89 at the 99 cents store. This is according to the very nice lady at Wells Fargo that I talked to as I was cancelling the card and setting it up so that the next time you used it and a merchant requested an authorization, the card would come up as stolen and your little joy ride at my expense would come to an end. You have no idea how much the idea of you sitting there in a pool of cold sweat makes me happy. How does it feel, Cretin? Does your head fill with terrible images of jail and court costs and the look on your mother's face as they haul you away? GOOD! How dare you do something like this as the acrid smoke chokes every nook and cranny of our county? Do you have no morals, no sense of community, no qualms about victimizing someone who is already being victimized by Mother Nature? I guess not.
I have a couple of final thoughts for you. One is that I really do hope that none of your family members are threatened by the fires that continue to burn. As much as you've hurt me, you haven't taken away my belief that most people are decent and good when given the chance to be, and your family definitely doesn't deserve to be punished for the insensitive act of a no account Cretin. My second thought comes from Chris, my darling Sweetheart, who says that you should just hope that he never, ever finds you. He doesn't have the same love of humanity as I do and he is boiling over with rage at what you've done. He's a big man, he works with his hands (the legal, honest kind of working with his hands, not the cheap, chickenshit kind that you do), and the only thing as strong as his love of family is his hatred of all those that hurt those he loves. Be glad there's 2,600 miles separating you from him.
In closing, my car is in the shop being fixed up good as new, with a brand new stereo (thanks for that!), and I have a rental car which is totally paid for by my insurance. I have no credit cards for seven business days but that's honestly a pretty good thing given my propensity to overspend. I have a warm house to sleep in, people that love me, and the comforting certainty that everything will be OK. The possessions that you stole will be replaced and my life will go on much as it did before. The scared feeling in the pit of my stomach will subside with every day that passes and I will be stronger for the experience. I almost feel sorry for you. Almost.
Sunday night/Monday morning. Today's post was going to be filled with the usual whiny drivel. "Why can't I eat what I'm supposed to?" and "Why is this marathon training so hard for me?". Instead, events conspired to give me an abject lesson on what is really important and what is just, forgive my language, useless crap. So, as I sit here with my little silver Saturn packed to the roof with the "important" things in my life, ready to run if the fire that rages out of control a mere three miles from here turns toward me, I think I'll just tell you what made the cut and what will be left behind.
In: my Brooks running shoes that I do all of my marathon training in Out: every single pair of pumps/high heels I own -- life's too short to have uncomfortable feet
In: the pencil sketch of Bristol, England (my mother's home town) that she shlepped back for me in 1993 Out: the very expensive, very cute vintage advertising posters that I had matted and framed a few years ago -- cute and stylish and replaceable
In: a baby picture of my cat, Dave Out: the other nic naks (sp?) from the end table in the living room -- the rest of it is just junk, but he'll never be a baby again
In: all of my dirty laundry (really!) Out: all of my suits, extra hand bags, hats, and every silk blouse I own -- I never wear them...not ever
Basically, it came down to this: if I lost it, would I be OK? If the answer was yes, it didn't make the cut. If the answer was, "I'm not sure", it didn't make the cut. Only things that broke my heart even to contemplate leaving behind are either packed in the car or waiting next to the door to be grabbed in a hurry when or if the time comes for flight. Of course, the two cat carriers are upstairs, doors open, towels carefully arranged inside for the most precious cargo I will transport, but I'll wait until the very last minute to do that duty because they are happy for the first time all day (it's not orange and dusty outside at the moment) and this could be the last time that's true for a while.
If you believe in God, or any sort of higher being, please say a prayer for all of the people of San Diego county and southern California, that we may come through this tragedy even stronger than before and with our heads held high. As for me, I've got everything that really matters lying here next to me, purring contentedly. Well, everything except the handsome man who is (finally) sleeping in Virginia. Two cats, a packed car, and a wonderful, slumbering man that loves me...what more could a girl ask for?
