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Monday July 17, 2000 "No good deed goes unpunished." Clare Booth Luce
important stuff ... my work bulletin board
Wearing: Jeans, hiking boots, Columbia shirt with fish design. Physically: I am rehydrated. The talking scale said 177 pounds. Water surely. Emotionally: Resigned to water rationing, not being able to park on my street, and moving a bunch of stuff around for the parents that they don't need just to have them close. Feeling good about life in general, for no good reason.
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surreal feeling I wake up refreshed. My early to bed did me good. FFP and I finalize various things for getting the parents moved in to their house. I type an e-mail for my dad to their friend who is now living in Germany. She wants him to write, not just Mom, and he's written a 'real' letter which I tell him will take forever to get there. He's feeling really conspiratorial thinking he will fool her that he is typing it in. Work is weird. I have all these little things to take care of. E-mail and phone calls and discussions about marketing activities in the fall. I do stuff, but I don't accomplish anything. SuRu and I go to Texas French Bread for lunch. Only later do I realize the two of us have gone to two different TFBs on consecutive days. (Isn't my life exciting?) We go to Bed, Bath and Beyond (not quite 'To infiinity, and beyond!' but they have lots of stuff you didn't know existed). I get a kitchen trash can for my mom, a dustbuster for her, a little broom with a dustpan on an extended handle and a couple of cleaning things for tomorrow's exercise. After work, SuRu and I go by the parent's house to drop off the stuff and marvel at the place almost empty. (The master closet has their clothes, the guest bedroom closets the seller's stuff that she didn't want left in the heat and one bedroom is full of their stuff. The double garage is, of course, crammed full of their worldly goods. And Dad has outside stuff on the patio and plants on the screen porch. They've been real troopers about this, really. Can't have been easy. They have suitcases and boxes everywhere. And I'm sure my mom packed some things when she wasn't feeling great and might have been confused. Over the weekend I missed her and found her in our storage room where the laundry is. She was looking through some of their boxes out there. "I think it's in that one," she said, pointing to one she couldn't quite reach. "What?" I asked, squeezing around the pile and getting it. "It says medicine but it isn't," she said. And it wasn't. There was some jewelry and knickknacks and, in a small box, her social security card.
When I get home, Dad and Mom have made a meal of fruit salad, chicken and regular salad. I must confess that I like coming home to food. I eat and clean it up. I spent an inordinate amount of time fooling with my computers after dinner. I do battle with the label facility in Microsoft Word which I always find strange. Then the business card stock I want to use won't feed through my laser printer. So I have to print it upstairs on another one. I try to put a real mouse on my old thinkpad for my mother. But the system does extraordinarily strange things with it hooked up. I try to backup some things from the laptop and Microsoft Networking does its trick of not seeing this from here and that from there. Networking is such a beautiful thing when it works. I try out the photo stitching software with my new digital camera. So I'm up too late once again. And for what? Remind me to just catch up on the newspaper one of these days. Just not come in this room!
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