"...Even though people who exercise are less likely to be depressed or anxious, it is probably not because they exercise... They found that the association of exercise with reduced anxious and depressive symptoms could be explained genetically: people disinclined to exercise also tend to be depressed. One does not cause the other."
Somehow I neglected to post all month long... Nothing much happened. I got sick, Amanda insisted I had mono (which she has been saying since we lived in Liberty), I went to a doctor who dismissed this theory out of hand and gave me antibiotics, the antibiotics killed whatever bacteria was living in my throat, but I still don't feel great. I missed a bunch of work and slept about 16 hours a day for a week and a half. I started working again on Friday, even though my head is in a fog all day and my head is so congested I can barely hear. I have to work tomorrow at nine. It is now 4:30am. Something is horribly wrong with this picture. Tomorrow is going to be completely unbearable, whether I sleep for less-than-three hours or just stay up and caffeinate myself.
Amanda is at a new job corralling two-year-olds at a daycare center. A child named Jacob bit her and left teeth marks. Now she has a bruise. My mother suggested that I apply to work at this daycare center. I am reluctant.
I sang karaoke last night, and I was not good. The words "train wreck" come to mind. Then today, I thought I had to be at work at noon, I got all the way there and was about to punch in when I found out I wasn't on until 2:15. So the last 24 hours have been pretty chock full o' humiliation. I'm really dreading going to work tomorrow - 9am to 5pm, it's going to suck. That's a given.
Is it possible that the entire female population of Beacon is currently menstruating? Because practically every single customer who came in tonight bought feminine hygiene products, and they were not on sale. This is 30% a serious question.
I had a really long shift today. Someone didn't show up, and called halfway through her shift, and she ended up quitting. For some reason, everyone who hates being on the floor hates it and wants to be cashiering. I'm always assigned to cashier and I'd rather be on the floor. (Maybe because I'm one of very few cashiers who don't mumble or outwardly scorn the customers.) Still, everything was basically fine until an hour before closing, when all hell suddenly broke loose for no apparent reason. It was a non-stop stress attack from 7:00-8:15pm. It was an "everything that can go wrong, will go wrong" kind of closing. But now I'm home, and next week, all my shifts are 4-5 hours long. Hurray for short shifts!
I had a really good day at the fair. It was expensive, and Rich's nausea interfered slightly with my master plan (non-stop rides!) but I did get to go on a tilt-a-whirl and the "starship 2000" and the zipper and those crazy swings and other very good mechanical adrenaline rushes. Then I missed work the next day because I was ill. I called in - twice, actually - but I'm still weirdly paranoid that I'm going to be fired. I'm not sure what I'll do if that happens. It's a cashiering job... so I don't think I can get really upset over it.
This is a quick list of things that I want that, for one reason or another, I can't have: A new spindle of DVD-Rs so I can burn shows for people, hummus and pita, Giordano's deep dish Chicago style pepperoni pizza, Buffalo Wild Wings, Fiesta Ranchero cheese dip and a chicken quesadilla with rice, and four new tank tops in various colors. If you have any idea how I can obtain these items with no money and without a trip to Illinois, please let me know.
If you haven't watched Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog today is supposedly your last chance. You only have a few hours before the blogs are taken down. (You'll probably be able to find them on youtube, but who knows?)
Last night I started drawing Rich as a Super Hero named Ultra Man. Then I made one of Amanda (Nurse Mandy). She taped them to their bedroom door and told me I should make ones for Nick and I, too. Nick's hero is The Quake, and mine is Fade. My main powers are invisibility and something Amanda named "outwitment."
It was ridiculously hot today. We played Risk, and Rich beat all of our asses once again. Tomorrow I have to work and then we may go over to Lindsay's because the boys want to swim. Monday we're planning to go to the county fair. I think once I ride a Tilt-a-Whirl I'll feel a lot better about life.
This morning I woke up and saw Tallulah hanging, dead, from my door. I started freaking out something fierce, and then I realized upon closer inspection, this was not the case. My cat was in fact sleeping in my desk chair. I immediately woke her up just to make sure she was okay. I looked back at my door and only clothes and towels and my robe were hanging there. I was very relieved, but way too wound up to get back to sleep. I told Tallulah over and over again how glad I was that she was okay, but she, being a cat, said very little.
Today I went with Rich and Amanda to Poughkeepsie. We ran errands and hung out for a bit in Barnes & Noble. I looked at an instructional book and then I ended up buying a self-help book. That's right, I bought a self-help book. I am now one of those people.
Nick was in a good mood today, so we went to Subway and then walked to Joe's house. Joe, unsurprisingly, was not home. I can't believe we've lived here for a month - actually, six weeks - and none of us has seen him. He lives way closer than Lindsay and she's been over twice. Oh, well, maybe someday Joe will decide we're cool enough to hang out with. In the meantime, we have each other.
I'm glad that everything is going so well for Nick right now, but, selfishly, I wish things were going just a little better for me. And I wish they were going better for Amanda and Rich as well. First Rich and Amanda had jobs and Nick and I didn't, now Nick and I have jobs and Amanda and Rich don't. (Mine barely counts since a monkey could do it, but still.) I would like it if all four of us could be employed simultaneously, but so far, that hasn't been the case.
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