Everything I ordered came from Costco today. Anti-bacterial soap, hand sanitizer, bleach, swifter pads, dusters, soft scrub, clorox, lysol, pledge. You name it, I have it in bulk.
Got three of these:
http://www.costco.com/Browse/Product.aspx?prodid=11507378&whse=BC&topnav=&cm_sp=RichRelevance-_-categorypageHorizontalTop-_-PopularProductsInCategory&cm_vc=categorypageHorizontalTop|PopularProductsInCategory
This:
http://www.costco.com/Browse/Product.aspx?Prodid=11137856&whse=BC&Ne=4000000&eCat=BC|3605|90370|53351&N=4047982&Mo=30&pos=2&No=2&Nr=P_CatalogName:BC&cat=53351&Ns=P_Price|1||P_SignDesc1&lang=en-US&Sp=C&ec=BC-EC39946-Cat90370&topnav=
This:
http://www.costco.com/Browse/Product.aspx?Prodid=11152102&whse=BC&Ne=4000000&eCat=BC|1892|88184|53412|51933&N=4041552&Mo=11&pos=7&No=3&Nr=P_CatalogName:BC&cat=51933&Ns=P_Price|1||P_SignDesc1&lang=en-US&Sp=C&ec=BC-EC39947-Cat53412&topnav=
And, a few measly bottles of Lysol since they don't carry those in bulk. For fuck's sake.
Thursday, May 10, 2012
2,4,6,8,10,12,14,16,14,12,10,8,6,4,2
When I walk to the end of each room, or by the time I walk into the next, I must take an even amount of steps. It must always be equivalent to the steps taken while retracing my path. Get up from my ottoman to go to the bathroom, 12 steps. Once in the bathroom, I take two steps to get to the toilet, and two to the sink. I wash my hands four times. I go back two steps to the toilet, and two steps back to the door. Once I exit the bathroom, I take 12 steps back to my ottoman.
In my ottoman I stare out the window. I've developed a habit of clenching my teeth in a distinct rhythm, often intersected by tapping my tongue to the roof of my mouth.
It took eight steps to get here to my laptop to write this. Before that, I took 16 steps to my bathroom sink to wash my hands four times. I wash four times now. My hands have taken to a reddish/purple color, complete with chapped skin. They used to be splotchy and dry. Now they do not appear to match the skin on the rest of my body. I'd always wash my hands in the morning, before and after meals, after using the toilet, midday, and before bed. About 6 times a day. That's now 24 times a day, plus four or eight more. I just wash my hands more now.
After not showering for a few days, I shower twice a day. Once in the morning, once at night. I eat a meal a day, usually around noon.I finally sleep more, but not enough.
My microwave just beeped. that's 16 steps to get my frozen chicken pot pie. First meal since yesterday afternoon.
In my ottoman I stare out the window. I've developed a habit of clenching my teeth in a distinct rhythm, often intersected by tapping my tongue to the roof of my mouth.
It took eight steps to get here to my laptop to write this. Before that, I took 16 steps to my bathroom sink to wash my hands four times. I wash four times now. My hands have taken to a reddish/purple color, complete with chapped skin. They used to be splotchy and dry. Now they do not appear to match the skin on the rest of my body. I'd always wash my hands in the morning, before and after meals, after using the toilet, midday, and before bed. About 6 times a day. That's now 24 times a day, plus four or eight more. I just wash my hands more now.
After not showering for a few days, I shower twice a day. Once in the morning, once at night. I eat a meal a day, usually around noon.I finally sleep more, but not enough.
My microwave just beeped. that's 16 steps to get my frozen chicken pot pie. First meal since yesterday afternoon.
Nothing left to lose.
I was fired last Tuesday. I've been sitting in my ottoman staring out the living room window most of the time, most days since. I get up to use the bathroom. Sometimes I eat something, but hardly. I haven't slept much.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Twinkies, Yoga, and other updates
It's been a while, bloggers... readers... followers...
The past few weeks have been a bit hectic for me with grading midterms, papers, posting online lectures and discussions. I spent most of the University's week off grading and doing some spring cleaning. I've also been looking into hiring a new grocer because Sue has been bringing her eight year-old son on her trips to the store and then my apartment, and the little bugger is rambunctious. He doesn't understand my rules, so last week when Sue came to deliver my groceries, he charged through my apartment with muddy sneakers, whining about how he wanted something to drink and proceeded to knock over a lamp, break the bulb...the whole thing was just a mess. Sue was very apologetic of course, but I was so overwhelmed with anxiety and frustration I couldn't deal with her.
She's just hasn't been as mindful lately, either. She keeps messing up my groceries. She'll buy me marinara sauce with mushrooms, which I dislike terribly. Or she'll get the diet iced tea, which never tastes as good as non-diet iced tea. I had a hankering for chocolate cake last week and when the store's bakery didn't have any, she bought Twinkies because she thought TWINKIES were a good substitute for chocolate cake.Then the other week she dropped her purse in my entry hall, and her cheap drug store perfume bottle cracked and leaked through her purse all over my hall. I had to open the windows and ventilate the place for days, as well as clean the floor several times. Between that incident and the one with her son, I went through three clorox sprays and four boxes of wipes to clean up their messes.
I may just have to find someone a little more cautious and orderly, is all.
I also took up yoga during the spring break. I sat on Amazon for hours researching and reading reviews for various DVDs and programs...people write the strangest things for product reviews. I read about how yoga helped a mother of three strengthen her "birthing canal" and she was just raving about it. She didn't stop there though, she went on to get much more intimate about all the details and it was...well, needless to say, I didn't opt for the program she was reviewing.
But I found a pretty great one and it's really helped to bring some relaxation into my life. My cousin Bethany insisted I take it up. She lives in California where she's a yoga instructor as well as real estate agent. We Skype and/or email about once a week. I was very close to her and her brother Tom growing up. Tom is currently abroad in London, so talking to him can be a bit more difficult. But we Skype and email as well.
Anyway, being my family and all, they are very understanding and sympathetic of my situation. Though I can tell they get frustrated with me, and think I should Just get over my OCD. If it were so easy to do, I just would. But it's not.
Well. I've had breakfast, read the newspaper, and now it's time for a run on the treadmill. I save yoga for the end of the day to release the stress of cleaning and fussing all day.
Until next time,
Marty
The past few weeks have been a bit hectic for me with grading midterms, papers, posting online lectures and discussions. I spent most of the University's week off grading and doing some spring cleaning. I've also been looking into hiring a new grocer because Sue has been bringing her eight year-old son on her trips to the store and then my apartment, and the little bugger is rambunctious. He doesn't understand my rules, so last week when Sue came to deliver my groceries, he charged through my apartment with muddy sneakers, whining about how he wanted something to drink and proceeded to knock over a lamp, break the bulb...the whole thing was just a mess. Sue was very apologetic of course, but I was so overwhelmed with anxiety and frustration I couldn't deal with her.
She's just hasn't been as mindful lately, either. She keeps messing up my groceries. She'll buy me marinara sauce with mushrooms, which I dislike terribly. Or she'll get the diet iced tea, which never tastes as good as non-diet iced tea. I had a hankering for chocolate cake last week and when the store's bakery didn't have any, she bought Twinkies because she thought TWINKIES were a good substitute for chocolate cake.Then the other week she dropped her purse in my entry hall, and her cheap drug store perfume bottle cracked and leaked through her purse all over my hall. I had to open the windows and ventilate the place for days, as well as clean the floor several times. Between that incident and the one with her son, I went through three clorox sprays and four boxes of wipes to clean up their messes.
I may just have to find someone a little more cautious and orderly, is all.
I also took up yoga during the spring break. I sat on Amazon for hours researching and reading reviews for various DVDs and programs...people write the strangest things for product reviews. I read about how yoga helped a mother of three strengthen her "birthing canal" and she was just raving about it. She didn't stop there though, she went on to get much more intimate about all the details and it was...well, needless to say, I didn't opt for the program she was reviewing.
But I found a pretty great one and it's really helped to bring some relaxation into my life. My cousin Bethany insisted I take it up. She lives in California where she's a yoga instructor as well as real estate agent. We Skype and/or email about once a week. I was very close to her and her brother Tom growing up. Tom is currently abroad in London, so talking to him can be a bit more difficult. But we Skype and email as well.
Anyway, being my family and all, they are very understanding and sympathetic of my situation. Though I can tell they get frustrated with me, and think I should Just get over my OCD. If it were so easy to do, I just would. But it's not.
Well. I've had breakfast, read the newspaper, and now it's time for a run on the treadmill. I save yoga for the end of the day to release the stress of cleaning and fussing all day.
Until next time,
Marty
Monday, February 27, 2012
Monday Musings
My busy weeks are almost over. Spring break is coming up and I'll have a temporary hiatus from grading. Though I teach history online, it's still a busy, demanding gig. I've been up to my ears in papers, quizzes, and formulating midterms...especially since I put off some of it in order to do my research, tend to my finally fixed ceiling...or just read, watch Fraiser, play solitaire, now blogging. Last night I got particularly caught up watching the Oscars. It's a bit silly, really. I hardly keep up with movies, so I'm not sure what I was watching it for; it's not as if I were rooting for any film or actor in particular.The only movie I saw that was up for any nominations was Terrence Malick's The Tree of Life and Woody Allen's Midnight in Paris. Both were good films. I liked Midnight in Paris much better. I found the portrayal of Hemingway, Dali, Picasso...all the historical characters, very amusing.
Last year's ceremony was great. The King's Speech won "best picture." The King's Speech is a terrific film. I don't love it just because I'm a history buff. It's a genuinely well-done movie with a great cast, cinematogoraphy, soundtrack...I could just go on and on. What I will do is post my favorite track from the film:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=LBQvhKkG1x8
I like to play this song while "cooking" and/or eating. I bet this makes me seem like a freak who finds grandeur in mundane tasks, or like a pretentious snob...but keep in mind I mainly eat frozen dinners, jarred pasta, and low-key chicken dishes. Alone in my apartment. If I could get over my OCD, I think I actually would host dinner parties and invite my colleagues I admire most. Or old friends from university. Until then, if I ever overcome it, I eat processed foods with the company of my television or a novel. Which doesn't strike me as being particularly pretentious.
This was a refreshing break from reading student's research on the boom of industrialization. Unfortunately, however, I must get back to it.
Last year's ceremony was great. The King's Speech won "best picture." The King's Speech is a terrific film. I don't love it just because I'm a history buff. It's a genuinely well-done movie with a great cast, cinematogoraphy, soundtrack...I could just go on and on. What I will do is post my favorite track from the film:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=LBQvhKkG1x8
I like to play this song while "cooking" and/or eating. I bet this makes me seem like a freak who finds grandeur in mundane tasks, or like a pretentious snob...but keep in mind I mainly eat frozen dinners, jarred pasta, and low-key chicken dishes. Alone in my apartment. If I could get over my OCD, I think I actually would host dinner parties and invite my colleagues I admire most. Or old friends from university. Until then, if I ever overcome it, I eat processed foods with the company of my television or a novel. Which doesn't strike me as being particularly pretentious.
This was a refreshing break from reading student's research on the boom of industrialization. Unfortunately, however, I must get back to it.
Monday, February 13, 2012
Week of the leak continued
This past week was a nightmare. However, the leak is finally fixed.
Turns out the source of the leak was the radiator in my neighbor's apartment directly above mine. Old piece of garbage. Anyway, for whatever reason their radiator began to leak, and it went on for so long, and got so bad, it soaked through the flooring and leaked through my bedroom ceiling. After calling the building's maintenance guy, Doug, last Monday, the dud finally showed up on Wednesday to check it out. I live in a pretty reputable apartment in a decent part of Chicago...I was stunned our maintenance was so slow to address this. However, once he showed up, he checked out my ceiling and declared much of it will have to be replaced since the water damage was so bad. I wanted to shriek. He went on to tell me how he'll have to break through the ceiling...causing me to clear out my once perfect bedroom and make due with sleeping in the living room for the next few days. This is just one of the many horrors this leak has bestowed upon me.
In addition to evacuating my room and transforming my living room...I had to let Dough and his team of carpenters into my apartment. I never even let SUE, my grocer, set foot in this place. It was horrible, it really was. I couldn't sleep the night before they came in. I shook and sweat in my bed (the pullout sofa) all night, on the verge of tears. The fortunate thing, however, is that this exhausted me so much that by the time Doug and the guys showed up, I was a little less anxious about the whole thing. I had been dreading this day for nearly a week.
Each day they came to break through and reconstruct the ceiling, it got a bit easier to deal with having outsiders in my place. Of course once they left around evening everyday, I immediately vacuumed, scrubbed, and disinfected the path of flooring they walked on to get to my bedroom.I so badly wanted them to wear plastic bagging on their feet, but knew better not to ask. Not only is it seen as a ridiculous request by most, but I guess it would have been a safety hazard with them standing on the ladder and all.
...wait, I smell something burning...DAMNIT it must be my Stouffer's lasagna!
To be continued...
Marty
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Week of the leak
Between my work and the leak that is taking over my bedroom, I've had little energy for blogging. Though it probably would have helped me vent about the whole situation and the stress it's causing me...So sorry, followers. If there are any of you faithful ones out there.
Anyway, I'm pretty beside myself right now. Either a pipe in the ceiling is broken or my neighbors upstairs are doing something to cause the leak. It's just unsanitary. The part of the ceiling where it is coming from is damp and appears to be buckling a bit. The constant sound of the dripping is extremely irritating. I called the building's maintenance, but they STILL haven't been able to come over. I've begun to box all my belongings in my bedroom and move them out into the other rooms. I've packed up all my bedding and moved it into the office. As for the bed, I've covered it in a plastic contraption I made out of my mattress cover, unused garbage bags, and other plastic bags I've saved and disinfected. I'm now sleeping in the living room on my pullout sofa. It's been a disaster. An unnecessary, unnatural disaster.
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