or maybe it’s just a fever-induced fog, is the reason for today’s completely random post.
First, why won’t my phone sync with iTunes? I’m an apple girl through and through, but for some reason, this whole syncing thing has thrown me for a loop. I thought I was on the cloud. I’m paying for the cloud. But I get an error message all the time that tells me my computer’s no longer authorized to sync with my phone. so I can’t update the software on my phone, because the songs I purchased on the phone won’t sync into my itunes on my macbook. huh. I’m too tired to even think about it. I don’t have to understand electrical wiring to get my lights to turn on. Why do I have to know so much about the inner workings of computers to get simple stuff to work?
I have a tiny kitchen (only 9′ x 14′), and a few months ago, the Mister surprised us with this:
Yes. A Poland Spring water dispenser. (Btw, our tap water is perfectly fine. It’s actually quite delicious) And now we have this…um…thing in my kitchen that takes up valuable square footage. At first I wasn’t so happy about ceding space to a water dispenser, but after I figured out it made hot water, it’s been a welcome addition to chez Sato. The problem is, our water comes monthly. And right now, I’m facing an conundrum. I’m battling this fever right now, and have absolutely no appetite, and I want tea. But as you can see–there’s no jug on top. Old “can-do” Paige would have hoisted the very heavy 5 gallon jug onto her shoulders, and limped her way from the front porch to the kitchen. Smarter (sicker, gimpier) Paige decided to ask the Mister to come home from work early to do this for her. He’s on the train as I type.
It’s a good thing I have this fever and no appetite, though, as now is the season for:
Yes. It’s girl scout cookie time. This is Thing 3’s stash. Amidst the chaos of everything else, I’m now sorting and bagging lots and lots of Thin Mints, Samoas, Tagalongs, etc. The Mister’s got his work cut out for him–he sold nearly 100 boxes to coworkers and his karate students, and he’s got to lug all that into the city over the next few days. Last year, he didn’t sell nearly as many at work, and when I asked why it was different this year, he mentioned that there was another woman in her office who intimidated all the employees from buying cookies from anyone other than her. This year she’s been sick, so there’s been a bit of a cookie revolution with many, many more parents bringing in their girl scout’s order forms. Since Thing 3 is a NJ scout, her cookies were $.50 less per box than the cookies sold by NYC scouts. And since the Mister works at a bank, economics won.
Lastly, I am due for some rest.
My body’s struggling with this cold (I thought I was going to lose a lung this morning) and trying to heal my foot. Lack of appetite, coupled with the fever and cough, made my leg ache so much it was inducing some nausea. I re-visited my ortho (because pain-induced nausea is never a good sign, at least in my book). One thing I don’t get is that whole “pain scale” thing. It’s so subjective. I don’t know if it’s a woman thing, or just me, but when asked about how something hurts from 1-10, I think to myself–ok, a 10 would be having my arm hacked off with an axe, repeatedly because the first cut wasn’t clean through. This doesn’t quite hurt nearly that much–so maybe a 2? So I always say 2. Today, I looked at him straight in the eye, and said–I gave birth to three children without any meds (note: not on purpose, it just turned out that way), and I would rate that a 5, maybe a 6. This is a 3. And he told me to break out the crutches and boot until the pain (and nausea) goes away.
Maybe it’s time for a cookie break.