Thursday, April 30, 2009
I am working from home today, and decided to make some rice and beans for lunch. The rice cooker is going at it, steam blowing out the small hole on its top. I am filling a cup of water from the water dispenser on my refrigerator door, absent-mindedly looking at the steam and thinking of my mom. This was her rice cooker, she left it here when she sold her house in Houston. I miss her, I miss being a child and not having to be the one in charge of worrying about pandemics or people losing their jobs. I wish it could be as easy as getting in bed and sleeping it off.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
I will be working from home today. Lots of stuff to do, but my mind is a bit scattered.
To those of you who may read this, how is the weather today in your part of the world? I hope it's better than what we have here.
Friday, April 24, 2009
Today is one of those days that serves as proof of why I should never be a full-time telecommuter. I need people today. I need human interaction other than my immediate family. Unfortunately, Friday is a day that most people work from home, so there will not be that many people on campus. Hopefully I can shake off the tunnel vision and go have lunch with a friend.
Monday, April 20, 2009
This morning I almost had a panic attack in the space of time between dropping my oldest daughter at school and taking my youngest to daycare. My vision blurred, I felt dizzy and had difficulty expanding/contracting my lungs. My head felt stuffed and heavy. At the stop sign outside the elementary school, I lowered my car window and took two puffs from the inhaler. My youngest complained about the window, said it would make her cold. All I could say was: "mommy is having trouble breathing, sweetie, and the window down helps her feel better."
Saturday was a very strange day for me. Something was seriously off with my mood. It's hard trying to recall it, as most of it feels like a distant memory already. I remember going to the supermarket quite late, almost at closing time, and losing track of that. I remember crying while I was there. I can't recall why I cried. Something stupid, probably. Sometimes it takes very little to tip the glass over.
Often, the price I pay for being a highly functioning professional is that I am depleted during the weekend.