Plans

So I'm off for the next 10 days or so.

When I requested this time I had huge ideas of meeting that Marita and Dave in Cancun. One glorious week at VCI and then three days in Playa del Carmen. I researched, I almost booked. And then I realized I'm not some kind of Rockefeller so I didn't book. I probably could have pulled it off, but, finances being what they are right now, it would have set me back even worse than I am now. Plus with Frances* and all the grief she's been giving me, well, I'm pretty sure I made the right decision. Except right now Marita and Dave are there and I'm here and it rained last night. So despite it being the right decision, it still sucks.

So what to do with these 10 days yawning in front of me? Well, cleaning, for one thing. I'm not a really MESSY person, per se. But I'm also not like my sisters, at all. I used to make fun of Maura by saying she'd wipe down the coffee maker after she made a piece of toast. But really, it's probably better to be that frantic about a clean kitchen than to be how I am. Sure I wipe down the counters after I cook. I do the dishes. But I leave them "soaking" in the sink and drying on the drainboard (I run the dishwasher only when I find I am out of coffee mugs, so that's maybe once a week) for days at a time. And stuff piles up on the breakfast bar. It's sort of cluttery. There are too many small kitchen appliances on the counters and I rarely put the scissors back in the knife block. My kitchen looks "lived in", if I lived with three or four people. But I don't.

Living with kitties, I get kibble thrown about and fur on most surfaces, but that's just a part of life. There are kitty toys and strings and stuff they stole off the shelves scattered on the floors of every room, but I really only pick them up right before I vacuum. And then I put them back. Because the kitties get pretty bored hanging out while I am at the keyboard or elevating Frances or at work.

I guess my point is that for the next seven days I'll be cleaning. I'm pretty proud of myself for having done a bunch of laundry and cleaning off that blasted dresser that I use as a catchall for anything I may have worn in the last few days. The sheets are about ready to go into the laundry and I'm seriously considering emptying the vacuum canister and going to town on the bedroom floor. I figure if I can attack one room a day, I'll be in great shape to leave on Saturday morning.

Saturday Barbie and I are going to Ontario to visit that Helen, who, despite a broken arm, has agreed to put us up (put up with us) for a few days. Now that I-84 isn't a solid sheet of ice it's time to head back east. No big plans over there but I'm secretly plotting to get them to both go to Boise one day. Boise! The big city! I haven't been there since 1995 when I cruised through with a friend who drove back with me from Ohio. And even then didn't count since we just stopped at a bar and had a drink. I just want to see what it's like.

Meanwhile, here's what's new with the flipping situation on my leg: So the big gaping hole isn't really healing (I don't think anyway) and I ended up ruining two pair of pants with all the drainage (nice, right?) and it's not like I'm made of money so I called the advice nurse who suggested I come on by ~ I am now on antibiotics even though they did a culture and it is NOT infected, per the doctor, but my ankle below the hole is red, angry and swollen and it hurts like crazy all the time, and they demanded (after several more calls) that I wear support hosiery, to the tune of $35, which would have bought me another pair of pants, to keep the swelling down. It's an enormous pain in the ass and I'm not sure they'll go in and get the rest of Frances on the 21st like they wanted. I just am tired of this big gigantic wound and all it entails. And pain. I'm tired of that too.

So in theory, with all this time on my hands, I might actually blog some more this week. By the looks of things it won't be that exciting of stuff, but you never know what might happen when I throw myself out in public. Stay tuned.
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*Frances is what Whitney and I named the second nose. We named it a long time ago, and it's important to note that this is FrancEs, with an "e". Currently she is often referred to as Frances-less, but not as often as she was, because I know there's more in there and what is left is not letting me forget that she's still around. My leg hurts like a bitch.