It’s not the fact that I fall asleep at my desk that I hate so much as the fact that I get caught. I get caught everyday and it could not be more embarrassing. Sometimes I get caught because I start snoring and it is sort of an unspoken pact between me and the lady in the cube next to me that if I start to snore she should wake me up. Otherwise she lets me sleep. It is so embarrassing.
Sometimes, when I have fallen asleep without my realizing it, someone will sneak up on me and tap me on the shoulder saying things like, “Are you okay?” I mean, I must be ill, who else sleeps at their desk with seeming disregard for all that is right and appropriate. It is so embarrassing.
Sometimes I will fall asleep and the phone ringing will wakes me up. I am constantly surprised at how alert I sound as I answer it, “Hello, this is Ellie. No, I haven’t been asleep for the last ten minutes. No, that wasn’t me you heard across the office, snorting away.” It is so embarrassing.
Often, I feel myself starting to fall asleep and I try something desperate to keep myself awake, like punching myself in the leg or pinching my arm, or eating tons of chocolate. It works for a few minutes until I get tired of hurting myself, or finish all of the chocolate. And I drift off to sleep with sore arms and legs and a sick stomach. It is so embarrassing.
I am amazed sometimes how long I sleep with no one waking me up. This morning, for example, I glanced at the clock sometime around 11:15am and woke up with a start to see that the computer clock read 11:55am. How could I have slept for 40 minutes with no interruption? What if someone saw me but didn’t wake me up? What if the whole office came over to stare at me and laugh under their breath as I slept soundly on through the morning? It is so embarrassing.
I know there is only one way to solve this problem and that is to cure my apnea. It needs to either go away (I have to lose 30 pounds) or I have to treat it (CPAP machine). I am having trouble with both solutions and most people don’t seem to understand this. “Just try harder” people tell me. Try harder. Try harder. Try harder. But it is not that easy. Or maybe it is, but I haven’t figure out how to yet. It is so embarrassing.
I just want to live a normal life again. It has been more than two years since I have not fallen asleep at my desk at least once a day and I am tired of it. It is embarrassing, unproductive and stupid. If something doesn’t change I might have to get a new job where I would have to stand up all day. At least then as I fell asleep, I would start to fall and then I would wake up. It’s better than drooling on myself here in this cube. How embarrassing.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
My Favorite New Room
Last night I spent hours putting together my new favorite room, the pantry. Dan and I had discussed many different options for the stupid backroom of the house. Somehow I got it in my head that it would be a great pantry. We could put up shelves and get a chest freezer and we would be able to be more efficient with food that way. Anyway, my dream finally came true last night when I transferred all of the stuff from the cramped little pantry in the kitchen to what used to be the stupid back room, but is now my favorite room in the house.
Friday, April 25, 2008
I am cut off!
Today is the self imposed cut-off day for my feeling sorry for myself. I actually think 5 days is a bit too long to be that self obsessed, but oh well. Anyway, today is the cut-off day and therefore I feel great! We won our first kickball game last night. Go Shiitake Kickers! And, it is Friday and I will get to spend the whole weekend with my cutest baby ever, Bronwen.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Driving to DC
My drive to Washington DC last Sunday was absolutely bizarre. I left the house at exactly 11am, and drove north on hwy 29. The plan was to take 29 North all the way through Virginia to 66 East which would take me directly into the city. I merged onto 29N around 11:10am and that is the last time things went according to plan.
When I left the house, the sun was shining and the new baby leaves on the trees were fluttering in a gentle spring breeze. I was surprised at how beautiful 29 N was and I was feeling pretty good as I approached Lynchburg, VA. It was sometime after I had made it through Lynchburg that I realized I had accidentally gotten off track. I realized that 460 E, the sign that had been flashing by the car for the last 40 miles, was not the same as 29 N, and that in fact, after studying the map, I was moving rapidly towards Richmond. Feeling a little stressed, and swerving all over the road as I tried to read the map and drive, I decided to pull over and take stock. I also needed gas.
I pulled into a gas station (it could be called that, as it had gas). I filled the tank and walked into the shabby building to pay. (What, no pay at the pump?!) As I approached the counter a very gregarious Indian man, with a strong Indian accent, asked me if I was from around there. I wanted to ask him the same thing but I didn’t and replied that actually I was lost. I asked him the way to 15 N which I had noticed on the map, eventually meets back up with 29N, right before 66. He pointed me in the right direction; I thanked him, got in my car and headed east.
What I didn’t realize was that 15 N is a two lane highway where the speed limit often drops to 35 mph as you slip though sleepy little Virginia towns. One town was built around the railroad. There were stacks of fresh cut logs along the road, and train beds filled with lumber. It was a like going back in time.
Somewhere in the middle of Virginia, the sky opened and it began to pour. I was glad I could only go 35 mph, as the roads began to fill with water. It was after the storms started that things got weird.
I entered a town called Gordonville. Halfway down Main Street the traffic stopped and I could see ahead a police officer, stopping traffic to allow a long line of cars along with a hearse onto the road from a funeral house.
“What a perfect day for a funeral,” was my first thought.
“Could there be more cars going to this funeral?” was my second thought at the 100th car pulled out in front of me. Finally, the cop pulled out behind the last mourner and I shifted into gear to follow. The rain began to fall even heavier, and the highway opened up to four lanes. I wondered if it was bad manners to pull out into the left lane so I could pass the 100 cars as I did exactly that. I was still far from meeting up with 29 N at this point, and was really starting to get annoyed. And the rain was getting really bad.
I passed by most of the funeral line when we all got into another town and the lanes combined back into two and I was forced into line with the rest of the funeral goers. I was a little stressed about this until we hit a red light where the cop had blocked traffic and was letting us all through. “Cool,” I said to myself as I imagined the unencumbered drive from there to 29N. No more lights! A mile later a cop pulled out in front of me and the line stopped.
“What is going on now?” I said out loud as another funeral procession began to pull out in front of me. There I am, sitting in the middle of a funeral procession, watching another funeral procession drive down the road in front of us while the rain continued to pound down, the road was turning into a river, and I was starting to get a little freaked out. The hearse in front of me and the hearse behind me made me feel a little claustrophobic, a little too close to being trapped by dead people, trapped between the dead and the water and both were closing in fast. Eventually the cop in front moved and the traffic began to ease forward and we moved into another small town where I was signaled through another red light by the local cop, but then turned right and left the 200 car, double funeral to escape through another small town.
The rest of the drive was incredibly beautiful. I realized that I was on some sort of Civil War route, as periodically I would come upon a historic placard describing a battle which was a turning point in the war, or a camp, or something else old. If only I had not been in a hurry to get to DC.
Eventually, an hour later, and 100 miles more than it should have taken to get there, I arrived at my hotel. I guess that trip was a sign of things to come, as the next day was no less stressful or bizarre, and eventually at nine pm on Monday night I arrived back in Greensboro, a little less than 36 hours after I left, with 660 miles more on the car.
When I left the house, the sun was shining and the new baby leaves on the trees were fluttering in a gentle spring breeze. I was surprised at how beautiful 29 N was and I was feeling pretty good as I approached Lynchburg, VA. It was sometime after I had made it through Lynchburg that I realized I had accidentally gotten off track. I realized that 460 E, the sign that had been flashing by the car for the last 40 miles, was not the same as 29 N, and that in fact, after studying the map, I was moving rapidly towards Richmond. Feeling a little stressed, and swerving all over the road as I tried to read the map and drive, I decided to pull over and take stock. I also needed gas.
I pulled into a gas station (it could be called that, as it had gas). I filled the tank and walked into the shabby building to pay. (What, no pay at the pump?!) As I approached the counter a very gregarious Indian man, with a strong Indian accent, asked me if I was from around there. I wanted to ask him the same thing but I didn’t and replied that actually I was lost. I asked him the way to 15 N which I had noticed on the map, eventually meets back up with 29N, right before 66. He pointed me in the right direction; I thanked him, got in my car and headed east.
What I didn’t realize was that 15 N is a two lane highway where the speed limit often drops to 35 mph as you slip though sleepy little Virginia towns. One town was built around the railroad. There were stacks of fresh cut logs along the road, and train beds filled with lumber. It was a like going back in time.
Somewhere in the middle of Virginia, the sky opened and it began to pour. I was glad I could only go 35 mph, as the roads began to fill with water. It was after the storms started that things got weird.
I entered a town called Gordonville. Halfway down Main Street the traffic stopped and I could see ahead a police officer, stopping traffic to allow a long line of cars along with a hearse onto the road from a funeral house.
“What a perfect day for a funeral,” was my first thought.
“Could there be more cars going to this funeral?” was my second thought at the 100th car pulled out in front of me. Finally, the cop pulled out behind the last mourner and I shifted into gear to follow. The rain began to fall even heavier, and the highway opened up to four lanes. I wondered if it was bad manners to pull out into the left lane so I could pass the 100 cars as I did exactly that. I was still far from meeting up with 29 N at this point, and was really starting to get annoyed. And the rain was getting really bad.
I passed by most of the funeral line when we all got into another town and the lanes combined back into two and I was forced into line with the rest of the funeral goers. I was a little stressed about this until we hit a red light where the cop had blocked traffic and was letting us all through. “Cool,” I said to myself as I imagined the unencumbered drive from there to 29N. No more lights! A mile later a cop pulled out in front of me and the line stopped.
“What is going on now?” I said out loud as another funeral procession began to pull out in front of me. There I am, sitting in the middle of a funeral procession, watching another funeral procession drive down the road in front of us while the rain continued to pound down, the road was turning into a river, and I was starting to get a little freaked out. The hearse in front of me and the hearse behind me made me feel a little claustrophobic, a little too close to being trapped by dead people, trapped between the dead and the water and both were closing in fast. Eventually the cop in front moved and the traffic began to ease forward and we moved into another small town where I was signaled through another red light by the local cop, but then turned right and left the 200 car, double funeral to escape through another small town.
The rest of the drive was incredibly beautiful. I realized that I was on some sort of Civil War route, as periodically I would come upon a historic placard describing a battle which was a turning point in the war, or a camp, or something else old. If only I had not been in a hurry to get to DC.
Eventually, an hour later, and 100 miles more than it should have taken to get there, I arrived at my hotel. I guess that trip was a sign of things to come, as the next day was no less stressful or bizarre, and eventually at nine pm on Monday night I arrived back in Greensboro, a little less than 36 hours after I left, with 660 miles more on the car.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Thanks, All...
For all who haven’t heard already, I did not pass the Foreign Service Oral Assessment. I needed a 5.25 and I got a 4.5. Not too shabby, but not good enough. I am taking the next few months to decompress from this process and then I will start it all over again in the fall. Thanks to everyone for your love and support.
And here is a thought for you,
“Is a Jesus fish bumper sticker on your car justification for insane driving?”
And here is a thought for you,
“Is a Jesus fish bumper sticker on your car justification for insane driving?”
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Happy "Day After Tax Day" Day
Tax returns are a beautiful thing. It feels like free money. I always forget that it was money I was earning all year long that the government borrowed to invest and who already made more money off of my money than I did. I forget that and just think about how I am suddenly flush with cash. This year was a good year. I forgot to change my tax form to take into account Bronwen and my new husband. Therefore, the government took way too much money from my check thinking I was single. So when we went to file this year, we were amazed to see the amount that we were going to receive.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Friday-Sunday
This past weekend was chockablock. On Friday night Nikki invited us over for dumplings and scallion pancakes. We drank mojitos and played the guitar and had a wonderful time. The girls fell asleep in Nikki’s bed and Dan and I had a chance to really relax and chat with friends.
Saturday it was supposed to rain all day, but it held out and we played in the front and back yard. I bought a suit for my oral assessment (it is linen and beautiful!). Chris and Phil came over later that night for Bacon wrapped shrimp on the grill (this was the first grilling day of the season!), mashed potatoes, salad and CATAN! Dan won the first game, but Chris came back with a vengeance and won the second game.
Sunday was cold but sunny. I awoke to find the inside of the house wrapped in yarn. I still do not know what Piper was doing. The girls finger painted in the back yard while we read our books and sipped tea in the sun. After Bronwen’s nap we went to the Greensboro Grasshoppers game. We met up with our wonderful friend Ethan and his new girl. We ate pizza and ice cream and drank beer. Then the temperature dropped and we couldn’t take the cold anymore and left. I hung out with Ethan for an hour more, catching up and playing arcade bowling. When I got home, Dan and I got through two more episodes of West Wing, Season 2, and we were off to bed. It was a great weekend, and it was hard to go back to work this morning.
This Friday Bronwen goes in for eye surgery at 6:30am, two days later I will be in Washington taking the Oral Assessment for the Foreign Service. Things don’t ever slow down around here.
Saturday it was supposed to rain all day, but it held out and we played in the front and back yard. I bought a suit for my oral assessment (it is linen and beautiful!). Chris and Phil came over later that night for Bacon wrapped shrimp on the grill (this was the first grilling day of the season!), mashed potatoes, salad and CATAN! Dan won the first game, but Chris came back with a vengeance and won the second game.
Sunday was cold but sunny. I awoke to find the inside of the house wrapped in yarn. I still do not know what Piper was doing. The girls finger painted in the back yard while we read our books and sipped tea in the sun. After Bronwen’s nap we went to the Greensboro Grasshoppers game. We met up with our wonderful friend Ethan and his new girl. We ate pizza and ice cream and drank beer. Then the temperature dropped and we couldn’t take the cold anymore and left. I hung out with Ethan for an hour more, catching up and playing arcade bowling. When I got home, Dan and I got through two more episodes of West Wing, Season 2, and we were off to bed. It was a great weekend, and it was hard to go back to work this morning.
This Friday Bronwen goes in for eye surgery at 6:30am, two days later I will be in Washington taking the Oral Assessment for the Foreign Service. Things don’t ever slow down around here.
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Skybus-ted
The weekend started out with a bit of a hassle. We rushed to the airport, through security to the shiny new Skybus gate where we discovered that the flight was an hour late getting in and therefore, we would be leaving about 90 minutes late. We had purchased our Skybus tickets for only $184 total for the three up us to fly to Wilmington DE and back again. The drive from Wilmington to my Dad’s house in NJ was only about 90 minutes, and with the tickets being so cheap, we could not pass up the opportunity. The plane finally arrived, we boarded, took off and landed in under 90 minutes.
A side note on the Wilmington DE airport, also known as the Newcastle Airport. When we landed and pulled into the only plane parking spot, I was surprised to see just how small this airport was. Dan put it best was he said, “It looks like a small elementary school.” From the runway side, the building is low to the ground, light beige brick, and small. There is one entrance into the waiting area, which is also the waiting area for rental cars. The luggage is dumped through a window and slides down onto a low, metal table. We waited for the luggage for almost 15 minutes, packed up the rental car, and drove to New Jersey.
We had a wonderful time with the New Jersey Baldwins. Bronwen got to know Popcorn, the giant Newfoundland. “Poppy” became Bronwen’s favorite word over the weekend. We played a lot of Wii, and Guitar Hero with my brothers and jumped on the trampoline a lot. On Sunday as we were getting ready to leave, I spoke with my dad about how great a time we’d had.
“We need to keep Skybus in business so that we can do this more often. For this kind of price, we could visit once a month,” I said.
“That would be great; but Chad mentioned something about the company having troubles. You should check the website before you leave,” replied my dad.
“Good idea.” I walked downstairs and borrowed the laptop from my brother. I googled Skybus and found an unusual number of links. As I started to scroll through the found sites, I realized that something was wrong. I clicked on the Skybus website only to find this. It was two hours later that I was finally off the computer. It took that long to figure out that the cheapest way home was to take the rental car and to drive all the way to North Carolina.
On the morning of April 7th, 12 hours after we were supposed to be home already, we left New Jersey in our little Ford Focus and drove the nine hours south. Arriving at the Greensboro airport we dropped off our rental and paid three times the amount of our original plane ticket for the car.
A side note on the Wilmington DE airport, also known as the Newcastle Airport. When we landed and pulled into the only plane parking spot, I was surprised to see just how small this airport was. Dan put it best was he said, “It looks like a small elementary school.” From the runway side, the building is low to the ground, light beige brick, and small. There is one entrance into the waiting area, which is also the waiting area for rental cars. The luggage is dumped through a window and slides down onto a low, metal table. We waited for the luggage for almost 15 minutes, packed up the rental car, and drove to New Jersey.
We had a wonderful time with the New Jersey Baldwins. Bronwen got to know Popcorn, the giant Newfoundland. “Poppy” became Bronwen’s favorite word over the weekend. We played a lot of Wii, and Guitar Hero with my brothers and jumped on the trampoline a lot. On Sunday as we were getting ready to leave, I spoke with my dad about how great a time we’d had.
“We need to keep Skybus in business so that we can do this more often. For this kind of price, we could visit once a month,” I said.
“That would be great; but Chad mentioned something about the company having troubles. You should check the website before you leave,” replied my dad.
“Good idea.” I walked downstairs and borrowed the laptop from my brother. I googled Skybus and found an unusual number of links. As I started to scroll through the found sites, I realized that something was wrong. I clicked on the Skybus website only to find this. It was two hours later that I was finally off the computer. It took that long to figure out that the cheapest way home was to take the rental car and to drive all the way to North Carolina.
On the morning of April 7th, 12 hours after we were supposed to be home already, we left New Jersey in our little Ford Focus and drove the nine hours south. Arriving at the Greensboro airport we dropped off our rental and paid three times the amount of our original plane ticket for the car.
Friday, April 4, 2008
Arrrrrrr, A Pirates Life for Me!
Pirate attackes rose by 10% in 2007. How often do you hear that in the news?
When I was a little girl, I was convinced that someday I would grow up and marry a pirate. I would leave all of my earthly possession behind and set out on the high seas to live a life of freedom from societal constraints. We would be a good pirates, we would only steal from other pirates and purhaps give back to the poor. I would be the Robin Hood of the seven seas and my name would be know from pole to pole.
I am glad that pirates are in the news, even though they are mean pirates.
When I was a little girl, I was convinced that someday I would grow up and marry a pirate. I would leave all of my earthly possession behind and set out on the high seas to live a life of freedom from societal constraints. We would be a good pirates, we would only steal from other pirates and purhaps give back to the poor. I would be the Robin Hood of the seven seas and my name would be know from pole to pole.
I am glad that pirates are in the news, even though they are mean pirates.
Thursday, April 3, 2008
Toothiness
Last night I dreamt that three of my teeth on the left side of my mouth fell out into my hand. I woke up this morning with my hand to my mouth, convinced the horrifying event had actually happened. It was such a realistic dream; I kept expecting my teeth to continue falling out while I brushed this morning, while I ate my oatmeal and while I have been sitting here at my desk. I have read that dreaming about teeth falling out reflects a deep self consciousness, or a fear of not being attractive.
Perhaps this is true. I have been struggling with my weight, and I recognize that I am aging. But I think the real reason I dreamt about teeth falling out is that Aimee had a tooth fall out recently. When she came to visit the other day she pulled the fake tooth (attached to a retainer) out to show me. It was so strange, and cool! And you can barely tell it isn’t a real tooth.
Aimee was very concerned about this tooth falling out, who wouldn’t be, so she went to the dentist to find out more about getting a replacement tooth. The dentist took x-rays and what they found was amazing. The tooth that had fallen out was a baby tooth! The adult tooth was just starting to push in from above, but it is sideways. Now she might have to get braces to force the teeth around to make room for the sideways tooth to straighten out and come in. I told her that she is freak. She has shark teeth and they just keep coming in. At least she won’t have to wear the funny retainer with fake tooth attached forever.
Perhaps this is true. I have been struggling with my weight, and I recognize that I am aging. But I think the real reason I dreamt about teeth falling out is that Aimee had a tooth fall out recently. When she came to visit the other day she pulled the fake tooth (attached to a retainer) out to show me. It was so strange, and cool! And you can barely tell it isn’t a real tooth.
Aimee was very concerned about this tooth falling out, who wouldn’t be, so she went to the dentist to find out more about getting a replacement tooth. The dentist took x-rays and what they found was amazing. The tooth that had fallen out was a baby tooth! The adult tooth was just starting to push in from above, but it is sideways. Now she might have to get braces to force the teeth around to make room for the sideways tooth to straighten out and come in. I told her that she is freak. She has shark teeth and they just keep coming in. At least she won’t have to wear the funny retainer with fake tooth attached forever.
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