The thing about glitter is if you get it on you, be prepared to have it on you forever. Glitter is the herpes of craft supplies.
Demetri Martin

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Back in the Saddle Again

Setting the scene:
Today is my first day back to work after vacation.  My alarm dutifully went off at 5:08 am.  It took me until 5:09 to turn the blasted thing off, following many agitated movements and noises from the other side of the bed. 

After crawling out of bed, I cautiously made my way through the 5 am black as pitch fog to the door, hoping to avoid stepping on the dog or any other potential noise-making and injury-inflicting objects.  I headed down the stairs as quietly as my groggy legs could carry me, so as not to wake the still-in-vacation-mode kiddies and husband. 

This is the first time I've been up before 6:30 am in a couple of weeks, and it ain't pretty. 

Functioning efficiently and productively early in the morning on not enough sleep and in darkness that wasn't there the last time you were up at this insane hour is a challenge to the old synapses.  Movements require more deliberation, reactions are delayed.  Sounds are louder. 

Specifically Problematic:
Facets that you have used millions of times before - and that function exactly the same as every other facet that you've ever used in your life - suddenly become complicated foreign tools that require a great deal of contemplation.  It is only after staring at the thing for two or three minutes with nothing happening that one's numb mind surmises that further action may be required.  You might actually have to do something.  like turn the knob in the direction of the arrow. 

This is exactly why facet manufacturers do us all the courtesy of providing colour coded labels: to help us overcome the morning fog that perpetual plagues our existence. There must be something primitive about blue and red that makes the half asleep mind direct the still asleep hands - through a series of misfiring synapses - to aim toward the red. 

I have a facet in my shower that only turns on and off - the further left you move the handle, the hotter - or redder - the water becomes.  Seems easy enough.  And yet...

Decision making time:
Once I figured out how the shower worked, I moved on to the kitchen where I managed - through a series of mishaps with the fridge, cupboards and microwave - to prepare myself a lovely pseudo chai tea latte.  Looking at the clock I came to the realization that if I left at that moment I could park on the street a reasonable five minute walk from work and save myself the $12.00 it costs to park in the smelly parkade.

Remembering my troubles with the facet, I set my travel mug next to my scavenged-lunch so I would remember to take it with me to savor on the drive into town.  I then zombie-moved into the sun room and turned on my lap top.

Off on another tangent:
A computer is a relatively complicated device to operate, yet - surprisingly - the actions required to make one do what you want - for me - have become ingrained and are performed almost instinctively.  Meaning, of course, that operating my computer is much less challenging to half-asleep Andrea than is my shower faucet.  So pleasantly, no colour codes required here.

Ahem.  Email.  Clock.  Facebook.  Clock.  Etsy.  Blog.  Email again.  YouTube video someone you don't really know posted on Facebook and said you needed to watch.  Chuckle.  When was that doctor's appointment, again?

Clock.  Crap.  I'm late for work.

Smelly parkade, here I come. 

Productivity at it's finest:
Arrival on unit, scavenged lunch in hand, now curdled latte long since forgotten in it's don't-forget-your-tea spot at home.  Three weeks away from work and my left shoe buckle is still flapping because I simply couldn't find the inclination whilst vacationing to fix it (what do i look like - a sewer?).  Wondering whether or not I brushed my teeth before leaving home and if I'm going to remember how to write my morning report - or have I forgotten how to do that, too? 

Maybe it's the colour codes on the facets that are screwing me up...  Maybe the in is reacting with my smelly well water and emitting some sort of neurotoxic chemical that can only be properly described using a three letter acronym.  Or a symbol.

Perpetual Optimism:
But it's Wednesday.  The unofficial cake day on my unit.  Yum, in advance.  There is nothing quite as delectable as pastry shop cheese cake served from a stainless steel emergency operation cart covered with a thread bare draw sheet.  Savored using a medical grade tongue depressor.

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