Of Moose And Men
The Best Laid Plans Of Both Often Go Astray

“No, is too long, so I sum up,” to paraphrase Inigo: I signed up to start receiving the Post again last Tuesday.

• They began to deliver the paper on Thursday.
• I received papers on Thursday and Friday.
• Saturday came, no paper. I called and asked for redelivery, didn’t happen.
• Sunday came, no paper. I called and asked for redelivery, didn’t happen.
• Monday came, no paper. I called, did not ask for redelivery, but did ask for them to find out what the f*ck was going on with my subscription. It’s now being referred to the “special problems” (or something like that) staff to figure out what the f*ck is going on. If no paper shows up by Thursday morning, I’m disputing the charge on my credit card.

Additionally, when you’re a subscriber you can go in through their web site and report missing/damaged papers, do vacation stops, etc. It’s actually pretty convenient, and easier than calling an operator (though I’ve always found their operators to be friendly, to their credit). But heaven help you if you move. There’s no way on their web site to change your address or email or phone number except to either call them, or email them. You can’t update it yourself, you can’t change that information online, you have to send it to them and wait for them to get around to fixing it. Actually, I take it back, you can update your profile information on washingtonpost.com, but it doesn’t seem to translate over to the actual newspaper subscription information, so even if you update your address on the user profile, your old address still shows up on the subscriber page. Ugh. How asinine is that? Especially in a town like DC that’s known for its transient nature. Dumb, dumb, dumb.

This after I had waited six months after moving in to start delivery again, mainly because I had had to call three out of the last four weeks I got the paper at my old apartment because either stuff was missing or the paper didn’t show up at all. So far they’re not really doing a lot to counter the impression that their delivery people are any more competent in the new neighborhood than they were in the old.

I love to wear watches. I am, by nature, a time/clock watcher. I have clocks all over the house (I can see five from where I’m sitting, including the ones on both computers), and I love having one of the little buggers on my wrist.

Except when it’s quiet and I can hear it ticking.

Was sitting here reading, nice and peaceful, when suddenly all I could hear was the watch ticking. I wiggled it around so it was facing away from me, no good. Moved my arm further away, still no good. Had to take it off and leave it in the other room. As much as I love my watch, the noise it makes when I’m trying to enjoy the quiet is just Too Much.

As much as I love what I do (most days), I really hate the end of the federal fiscal year.

Everyone’s hair seems to be on fire, and unfortunately for them I am the Only Attorney That Can Save Them (or so they think – I try not to disabuse them of the notion, as it means more job security for me). Which makes me both popular and loathed.

Whee.

So, I’ve been stress eating instead of my slightly better normal routine (it’s not perfect, but it’s better than it has been this week). My stomach is starting to complain about the treatment. I don’t blame it, but it’s getting annoying. And building on the stress.

Oh, and to top off this lovely week of stuffing myself with every bad food I can lay my hands on, I was told today that the powers that be have offered me up as a sacrificial lamb to go to the Congress next week and help explain why what we did a month or so ago didn’t require notifying them or asking permission. Not like, bright lights and subpoenas, but in a less formal setting, a meeting with our appropriators and their staffs. The staffs I’ve so far managed to avoid meeting in person. I trust and hope this means a grade promotion is on the way this fall.

Fall has hit DC with a vengeance. From temperatures in the high 60s at night, we’re currently at a lovely 53 degrees (up two from the low!).

This kind of weather makes running outside much more pleasant, not to mention being able to cut off the A/C and throw open the windows all night finally. And, bonus, I get to haul out the big, fluffy white bathrobe(s) when it’s colder than cold inside the apartment when I get up in the morning (I can so hear Margaret Cho channeling her mother, crying out, “soooo gaaaay!” right about now). I love the fluffy white bathrobes, but there’s really no need for them when it’s warm out.

The temps will climb back up over the weekend from their current lows, but them they’re back down again next week. I expect soon we’ll hear calls here at the cult co-op to switch the A/C over to heat (it’s an old all-or-nothing system, one or the other, not both). The BGA, which has the same sort of system, will do the same. Which will, of course, result in an indian summer heat wave which will bake us in our units for a week or two, but so be it. In the meantime, it’ll be fun to watch people scramble for portable heaters.

I bought a signed copy of a memoir about breast cancer written by a lesbian this evening. I’m not sure why I did this, except that it sounds like it will be interesting reading (lesbian relationship drama!), and perhaps it might help me deal with my mother’s own survival over having had breast cancer a decade ago. An odd way to learn about it, but one does what one can.

No running this week after Tuesday morning’s run. My knees began to hurt, which is a sure sign that New Shoes Must Be Purchased, so I will do that this weekend. The race last weekend went well, despite evidently needing new shoes. I ran it under 30 minutes, as was hoped (28:10), but not under my PR (27:33). I did have to remind myself that the PR was set on a very, very flat course and that this one had two slight hills at either end, so that was some slight bit of consolation. That said, I was still happy with the results. If only the marathon would go so well.

Otherwise the silence has been merely busy. It’s the end of the U.S. Federal Fiscal Year, and since fiscal law is what I do for my Big Government Agency, it’s a relatively busy time of the year for me. I still enjoy it, thankfully, but it has kept me somewhat occupied of late. I also purchased a new game for the DS, Lost Magic, and am enjoying that thoroughly. It’s horribly distracting, but I have put it down every now and again.

Still seeing MG, and that continues to go well. He makes me happy, I enjoy the time we spend together, and I look forward to more time spent with him.

I can tell autumn is approaching for several reasons now:

There are massive numbers of migratory birds who are now clustering outside my office window (well, one floor up from me, actually), and they are LOUD. They keep flying back and forth between the trees on the Mall and the BGA office building, and it’s very distracting. I can even hear them over my radio/iPod speakers sometimes.

It’s not quite as bright in the morning now when I get up. Partially this is because I discovered when I (finally!) got rid of the old living room curtains left by the old owner that he’d also left some external sheer-ish things that I could put up to make the room darker, so I did that. And partially it’s because ye olde lazy sun is not getting up as early now. Bastard. I want bright light at 6 am, thankyouverymuch.

I can walk to work in a dress shirt and not be soaked through by the time I get here.

Fall races are close enough to feel “real” now.

So, ’tis on its way, even if we’re not quite there, at least here in my little slice of DC. Now watch the temps shoot back up into the upper 90s again.

Saw my dermatologist Monday for my semi-annual check up with him. He didn’t like a couple spots, so he froze them off. I look like I can’t use a razor without slicing off large chunks of skin. Thankfully facial skin heals pretty quickly (at least mine does), so it’s getting better, but it hasn’t helped my mood. That’s been the major source of discontent this week.

Also had my every-six-month HIV test this week. Because why have just one major stressor in your week when you can have two? It came out fine.

Reduced considerably the amount of food I’ve been snarfing as the week has gone by. I was stress eating earlier in the week (mainly over the lovely blisters/scabs from the freezing), which was setting off all kinds of moody stuff. Whee! Thankfully after one particularly nasty little meal I realized what was happening and put the smack down on that.

Nice speedwork run this morning, back again to the recording and what not from yesterday’s free range run. Brief walk to deal with a stitch in my side (too much cranberry juice this morning?), but once that was done, I was fine. The last four runs over that distance (4.3 miles, give or take a bit) have each gotten faster – from 46:50 to today’s 40:06. Am definitely going to break 1/2 an hour on next month’s 5k. My goal will be to break my PR for a 5K, 27:33, set back in May of 2000 when I ran my first ever 5k (back when I weighed 20 lbs less than I do now, thanks to the mono the previous fall, I might add). Should be fun. In the meantime, I’ll keep doing speedwork. And long runs at not-so-speedy paces. And having fun while doing both.

If you go out on a run, but take no equipment for recording heart rate, distance, pace, etc., did it really happen?

Felt the need to just run this morning, the up and back along the waterfront that I consider my usual not-quite-2-miles-when-I’m-feeling-icky run. Up, back, no beeps, no watch whatsoever, so clue how long it took me or how my heart was doing. Just a nice run to remind myself that I do this stuff because it feels good, and because it’s fun.

Not been wanting to write much of late. Had a lot of things going on, personally, and no real desire to share them with the world at large.

Running’s been going pretty well. Did not quite 15 miles on Sunday. Ironic sight of the day while out running: Woman sitting on her back porch in a “Race for the Cure” T-shirt, smoking a cigarette.

I can tell I’ve been a little stressed, though – eating like there’s no tomorrow. Makes one yearn for the days before 14 year old anorexics started having strokes and you could still get real dexatrim over the counter. The new stuff just isn’t the same, and who needs a dressed up caffeine pill, really? If I wanted to get jittery I’d just drink more coffee. Not there’s been a lack of that in my diet, either.

Anyway. Writing more out of a sense of obligation than any real desire to post, so I’ll end this here and save us all trouble of more inane writing.

Woke up this morning feeling like I’d downed half a bottle of tequila and stayed up all night dancing with go-go boys the previous evening.

Alas, I did nothing of the sort last night.

The rain hitting the windows this morning confirmed the source of the headache. It also forced a change from the normal plans to bike into work (too messy – too much prep to get ready for work once I’m here) to walking, and the associated accelerated schedule to get out the door. Thankfully I’d originally thought I’d had time to make enough coffee to have some at home, so I’d started the water early and was able to make the exlir of life prior to walking out the door.

I’ve gotten spoiled on dragging my own coffee into the office. The stuff I make at home with the french press, even factoring in the time in the thermos (the secret is to pre-heat the thermos with boiling water while the coffee is steeping), is so much better tasting than the drip stuff they have here. Their coffee’s not bad, at least the faux-Starbucks stuff isn’t, but it’s not the same as good coffee from a french press. I prefer my oils unfiltered by paper, thankyouverymuch. Once a week or so, though, as I did this morning, I supplement the normal dosage with a shot of espresso (note the lack of a “x” there) from a lovely street vendor who sits out in front of the building and makes specialty coffee drinks from her little stall. She’s fun to talk with, and always remembers your drink (“Single or double espresso this morning?”). This morning she and I had fun discussing how tourists confuse the National Mall with a shopping mall.

Much better now that I’m caffeinated, but I’d still have liked a warning that I was going to wake up feeling hungover from the weather.