I keep on getting a bloody nose during my nightly shower. I am standing there, pretending to clean myself while Steven uses a stopwatch to time my shower, when BAM! there is blood all over the bath.
Okay, that’s pretty gross.
But really, what’s the deal? I read that “heated indoor air dries out the nostrils” and causes nose bleeds… but why now? I don’t remember ever getting them when I was young! So now when I do get them, I am always surprised, even though, yes, it always happens at the same time.
Does this mean I need a humidifier or something? Or do I just need to quit picking my nose?
Back in October (on the 8th), I did the “How well do you know me?” quiz, inspired by the creative genius Hilly. One of my questions was “What is my biggest regret?” and I chose the answer “Why waste time on regrets? I live a regret free life!”
After thinking about it more, I decided that, as nice as that sounds, it’s not really true. Because while I don’t really regret anything, I do have lots of guilt, a lot of it over silly little things.
In my mind, “regret” is feeling bad for something you didn’t do. So it’s EASY not to feel regret, if you are nice enough to yourself! And (also in my mind), “guilt” is feeling bad for something you did do. And it’s EASY to feel guilt, it you are hard on yourself and really care about the people around you.
Of course, the real meaning of “regret” is: to feel sorrow or remorse for (an act, fault, disappointment, etc.). And the meaning of “guilty” is: a feeling of responsibility or remorse for some offense, crime, wrong, etc., whether real or imagined. So, I am somewhat on the right track with the way I interpreted the words, but in the end, it’s all just semantics! And whether or not it’s right, I have to get this guilty list off my chest.
Things I am still guilty over:
- In the 1990s my parents gave me a gold necklace that had a flat, gold, cursive “Kimberly” charm on it. I was so excited about it, that when I put it on that day, I broke the charm in half and never wore it. I was too guilty to tell my parents what happened, but I still feel really bad.
- I have been relentlessly independent since I was in high school, and I feel guilty for shutting people out who could have been my friends.
- When I lived in Rome, I begged Steven to send me a care package with some fun things in it because I missed him. When he sent it, it had to go to my school (that was my mailing address) and they denied it, so it went all the way back to the States. It arrived on Steven’s porch the day after I got back from Rome. I feel guilty that he went to all that effort and I never got it.
- I feel guilty for being so involved with my own life that I only developed a relationship with my uncle Tom when I lived in Rome and we could share travel stories in our emails. That is the same year he passed away so young.
- Last year, my grandma called me and told me she was having computer problems. She lives in a different state, and I couldn’t come over to help her, so I suggested she ask my brother’s friend for help, because I know he is tech savvy. Well, he told her she needed to buy a new computer, so she did. She gave the old one to my aunt, whose friend promptly fixed it by installing a new fan. I feel guilty for her having to spend so much money, but more so because now she has to use Windows Vista!
- I feel guilty for letting myself get this heavy, again. I don’t want Steven to be known as having a “fat” wife. Oh yeah, and I want to be healthy too.
- I feel guilty for telling other people what a stupid slut I thought one of my friends was. Even if it was true, I shouldn’t have said anything about it to anyone.
- I feel guilty for all the truths I felt I had to hide because I thought people would be judgmental of me.
- I feel guilty for throwing that piece of broccoli at Steven in the Thai restaurant Monday night. I didn’t mean to do it, and I think it stained his pants and shirt.
The list could go on and on… do you have a list?
It’s ironic that I spend a good chunk of my time fantasizing about traveling… and the other chunk of my time fantasizing about being home more often.
Maybe it’s time to start being grateful for what I do have, and quit thinking about what I don’t.
But that’s never easy is it?
I had a perfect, relaxing weekend. I woke up early on Saturday, ate breakfast, then took a nap. Then Steven woke me up for lunch. I ate, took a shower, then took a nap with Steven. Then we woke up and went out to our favorite Mexican restaurant.
Maybe that is what it is like to be a cat. Sleep. Eat. Clean yourself. Sleep. Eat. It’s nice.
I thought having such a relaxing weekend would mean I would be ready for the work week today… and not feel so reluctant to go to work in the morning. Nope.
I still felt as out of it as ever this morning. First, I forgot our safe combination (I needed to get money for a train ticket), so I had to wake Steven up and ask him. Then, while I was packing my lunch, I realized I forgot to put deodorant on, so I had to run back upstairs to put some on. And while I was walking out the door, wearing my snow boots, I realized I didn’t pack any work-friendly shoes in my bag… so I had to run back upstairs… again.
I hate Mondays.
If you could add one month to the year, between two existing months, where would you add the extra 30 days and what would you call the month? (Assume the weather for the new month would be a mix of the of the weather typical for the month preceding it and following it.)
Blubuary – the new month between November and December. Not only would you have more time to complete holiday gift shopping, you have a whole extra month to eat all those holiday sweats and treats!
Honestly, I get sick of all those cookies after a few weeks, but it would be nice to spread out Thanksgiving and Christmas and not feel so rushed and busy for two months! The winter holidays give me a happy high, then it immediately drops off in January… I wouldn’t mind the chilly weather of another month if it meant I was more relaxed!
There’s no excuse for not saying thank you when you receive a gift in the mail.
You don’t even have to call me! You can write me a thank you card, you can email me… you can even text me! I don’t care how you say it, just say it!
Why do I even try anymore? Geesh.
I hate packing my lunch in the morning, counting calories, looking at nutrition labels, taking mental notes. Caring.
Actually, I hate packing a lunch at all. Why can’t I just get some takeout at work? Not caring?
Just kidding. Just kidding. I care about my health. And my money (because takeout adds up!).
But sometimes it’s hard to be a healthy adult. I have the sugary appetite of a child, but the mental state of an adult who knows better.
I’m working on that…
What’s the secret behind working from home?
Really, what’s the secret behind working from home and staying on task?
I don’t have a job that allows me to work from home. Frankly, there’s too much collaboration with other people in my office that it wouldn’t work.
But one semester in college, I did an individual studio where I “worked from home.”
Riiiiight.
I set up my spare bedroom with tables and all my architecture supplies. I put extra lighting in there and kept out all distractions.
Riiiiight.
I rarely used the space. When I did work from home, I ended up doing my work on my kitchen table. And even then it was difficult to get anything done.
To me, it felt wrong to mix “work” with “home.” I associate a strong sense of relaxation with being at home, and work doesn’t seem to fit into that picture.
But I know people who can do it! Steven works from home every once in a while. A few friends do it all the time.
What’s the secret? Is it some sort of discipline I am yet to learn? Or is it just a personality thing?
What is the deal with crossword puzzles? As in, why am I so awful at them?
My parents gave me two crossword puzzle books for Christmas. I grabbed a pencil and opened one up Saturday night, expecting myself to be relaxed by the puzzle before I went to bed.
Nope.
I knew maybe… five of the answers off hand. I couldn’t decode a lot of the clues, and I found myself consulting the reference books in my house for the clues I did understand. You’re NOT supposed to look the answers up, right? It is supposed to be from memory?
Does this mean I have a bad vocabulary, that I don’t know very much, or that the clues are poorly written?
What is the trick behind these things? There has to be some strategy… like Sudoku…
An editorial column I read recently mentioned the idea of “self-esteem culture” – where you are told you can be anything you want to be, so long as you put your mind to it. Sound familiar?
The columnist was talking about watching the “American Idol” auditions, and how awful she thought some of the singers were. She wondered why someone didn’t tell these kids they didn’t have any talent before they went on national television and humiliated themselves. She concluded that the family, friends, and teachers of these kids give them encouragement to make them feel good, no matter the cost.
My point in all this is not to talk about “American Idol,” but something from the column that struck a cord with me. The columnist mentioned that everyone is gifted in some areas – and NOT in others. Not everyone can sing.
And I believe that. I believe that people have natural, inherited and learned talents that are unique to them. It is impossible to be good at EVERYTHING.
It made me think… what am I really gifted in? What is something unique I am talented in? What do I do well?
I couldn’t come up with anything.
I know how to do a lot of things, but all at a mediocre level. You could say I know a lot about architecture… but then of course I do. It’s my work.
I just want to feel like I do one thing really well. I want people to say, “Maybe Kim could help me with this! She knows a lot about ‘fill in the blank’ topic.”
Don’t get me wrong; I am not asking for any compliments. I am just sharing how I feel. I think I have a lot of time in my life to find my “one thing.”
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