Rest Stops

   My head is light and yet, I feel well. I've been awake since 3am on Tuesday. It is currently 8am on Wednesday. Oh, considering the timezone change, I suppose my mind is still on the Illinois time schedule, and it would be 7am to me. Even so, that's a long time to be awake.

     On top of being desperately sleepy, I worked the entire time I have been awake save for the seven hour car ride in which we dragged out to be nine hours due to rest stop breaks. My day began with piles of laundry that I fed through the washer and dryer as quickly as possible before Rent-A-Center came back to claim them. Packed the rest of our things, threw things that didn't fit in the car into the dumpster, cleaned the apartment we left, and got into the car.

    Does anyone else spend all their time on a car ride listening to or singing along with music? I do. Every time. I guess I picked up the habit in elementary school when the entire bus would chime childlike rhymes and songs in unison to pass the time consuming rides to field trip destinations. Anyway, it's the only thing that keeps me awake when I'm tired AND entertains me so that I am less annoying on the way because normally, I would be passenger seat driving and making horrible/scared noises. Unfortunately, my significant other doesn't have one of those things, to pass the time I mean (other than being the [again] unfortunate one who drives), AND he has to listen to my singing.

    So, he stops frequently to take breaks. Lots of times before we solely stopped at gas stations, but this time was unusual because we only stopped at rest stops. Rest stops are quite strange and most carry this... Eerie, empty, bare, uneasy vibe. We drove all night, so when we arrived at these areas, it was as if no one knew they existed, and everything was much too quiet.

    The first time I felt calm since I started the laundry was once I reached home and made some tea. My warm mug made me smile and gave me the small bit of energy to keep up on my work. Home is with my dad, and currently we are on break in between major moves, so I am visiting my home until it is time to go to the next place. Well, my dad is quite depressed, you see. He dislikes himself immensely, and so he hoards a little. By a little, I mean he holds onto the daily newspapers for whatever reason and also inadvertently collects cat hair from the two felines on and between the pages. After all the hard work I put in on Tuesday, I came home and cleaned up my dad's space. Diet Bach Tea has to be the reason I am even able to keep my eyes open to type this message. Speaking of which, I think I will catch some sleep soon and will be looking forward to another serving of tea.

A Day Left in Paradise

     Today my only job is to relax. I've been given the orders by my sweetie, and I am not going to fight it. Small drops of heated water smelling heavily of chlorine dot my legs as children go against the posted rules, cannonballing into the deep end. Their laughter brings me joy and serenity, reminding me of when I was that child, the one breaking the rules etched on a pool sign for the sake of having a blast. I fondly recall belly flops, swan dives, and the silly faces that came before the loudest of cannonballs that dotted strangers' legs with pool water. My whole day has consisted of lounging by the spa area with tea in paper hotel cups at my side, and I am more than okay with that.

     I may do something crazy later like soaking my feet in what we call magic bath. Hot water, Epsom salt, baking soda, and hydrogen peroxide. The last few times I made up a tub of magic bath, I added peppermint essential oil to it, and it felt amazing. The wonderful mixture concocted by my almost mother in law and passed down to me has been so helpful, and doubles as medicine for many ailments I've been faced with in the past including bed bug bites, eczema, sore muscles, broken bones, and restlessness. Those are only a few of the things magic baths sooth for me, but the number one benefit of taking them is the calmness that seems to manifest itself as steam coming off the water. If a nice bath is not wild enough for me today, I may curl up in a heated hotel blanket and take a nap in the dark. The king size bed feels like such a guilty treat for a single person. To be able to spread out completely while laying in the middle of the mattress and still have beaucoups of room on either side is such a nice feeling. Oooh, or I might read a book on the lobby couch that sits closest to the faux fire place. The couches placed in hotels by corporate usually aren't very comfortable at all and are chosen solely based on their aesthetic appeal, but the couches and chairs at the Atrium are very cushy and inviting. The placement of one couch in particular causes it to call to me when I wander into the lobby to waste away some time, for it directly faces the LED screen that is constantly displaying realistic crackling flames.

     Before I go acting on all those relaxing plans, I am going to stroll into the Great Rivers restaurant to visit my friend and favorite waitress, Candy, for a small, refreshing lunch. I'm thinking I will order a bison slider and a tropical fruit bowl. Pineapple with papaya sounds absolutely delicious to me right about now. The food I get there is always decadent and beautifully plated, giving me the feeling of dining at a five star eatery though their prices are more than reasonable.

     That's all for today, friends. Nothing exciting is going on for me this day. Tomorrow, however, will be chaotic and quite interesting. That's the day we go back to the apartment and pack up all our things. So, I'm going to relish in the time I've got to wind down and enjoy before the moving actually begins.

Surprise, Surprise

Well, the air conditioning was never fixed. So, instead of absolutely roasting and being miserable at the apartment, my boyfriend and I went to a hotel to spend the bulk of our last week in town before moving away from the area. I'm thankful for it because with my body type and heat together, I am an uncomfortable mess.

    Being here at the Atrium hotel, I am reunited with my friend Candy who works in the lobby restaurant called Great Rivers. I see her early in the mornings for breakfast and at the middle of the day for lunch. I am currently dining here at Great Rivers, sitting in the far back corner where I always did. We lived here the entire month of January at the start of this year, so everything feels homey and very comfortable. Plus, you know, air conditioning.

    Making tea here has been quite the ordeal. Normally, I would have my hot plate, but I totally forgot about needing it. I've got a pot with my tea bag in it... Yet, no stove. I've been ripping open coffee bags, the ones that are specifically designed to fit in hotel room bathroom one cup coffee makers, and dumping the coffee grounds then replacing them with Diet Bach Tea. I mean, it's working fine and tastes the same as when I make it on the stove. I just have to make it three separate times instead of making it all at once in the morning.

   The other luxury I left behind at our oven of an apartment was my laptop. Finally after stressing all day yesterday about it, I found and downloaded the blogger app and figured out the mobile version on my cell phone. It seems to be easier, but I much prefer typing from my laptop keyboard. We move around a lot anyway, so having the app will probably benefit me when we are on the road.

    Anyway, quick update while I have a free minute at lunch. I'm going to sign off now to spend some time with Candy and with my duck con fit.

Hot Flash, Cold Tea

      I am dying. Absolutely dying. Okay, I am overexaggerating by a long shot. I may not be dying, but it sure feels like I am currently staying in an oven. Right now, at 1:40am, it is just now cooling down to 66 degrees outside and a forgiving 80 degrees indoors. All of yesterday during the daytime, it was a miserable 92 to 95 in my apartment. Early, early yesterday morning around 6am, I was jolted awake by an unusual banging and scraping sound; metal on metal. At first, I was a small bit confused by the unfamiliar noises bellowing through the hall, but after a closer inspection, it was clear to me that the racket was coming from my central air. 

     "Don't panic", I said to myself outloud, remembering the wise words of Douglas Adams. 

      Side note: I adore Douglas Adams and all of his books, but I am especially fond of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Not only did I greatly enjoy the book, I actually loved the movie that came of it. Normally, movies made from books I like end up majorly disappointing me. 

     Anyway, "Don't panic!" I took a deep breath in after finding out what the unnatural noise was coming from, and instinctively, I turned the machine off completely. I was already rather afraid of the possible damage that had been caused before the sound brought my sleep to a grinding (literally) halt. I wasn't 100% sure what was going on with my air conditioner, but loose sounding bits and scraping made me think, after pondering a moment, the motor was shot. With dread clouding my head space, I reluctantly called the apartment office. I never want to talk to the landlord, for she is rude and never even a tiny shred understanding. Luck had pity on me after the AC fiasco I guess, because she wasn't near the phone, and I was able to get by with leaving a voice message on her machine, politely asking for a repair man to make his way to my apartment. 

    Hours go by; they are busy people. This complex has at least 50 different apartments on the property. Maybe even more, as I am not for sure. In any case, the whopping 4 repair men have their work cut out for them. I didn't sweat the man taking much longer than anticipated, but I did sweat through three tank tops and a t shirt while I waited. 

    Hot tea just sounded so gross to me yesterday after enduring the unrelenting heat. So, I decided to dump about a cup of ice in it from the get-go. It felt so much nicer in the clinging hot temperatures of my preheating apartment. By the middle of the day, I needed the cold sips of tea to power through the lack of central air.

      And so, this guy finally shows up at my door unnanounced at around 1pm and scares the bejeebees out of me with a hearty knock that seemed to bust through my person. I mean, it wouldn't have felt much different to me had he knocked directly on my chest. With shaking hands, I let him in and left him to do his thing. Here and there I would hear clanging of tools against the metal air conditioning unit and then against the laminate flooring. It was about thirty minutes before the man came to me, letting me know it did in fact need an entirely new motor. A fin weld had snapped, in case anyone is curious. In any case, the loud-knocking man is expected to be back today to fix it up, and hopefully I will once again have a cool environment to stay in. But for now, I am thinking more iced tea is in my near future. 

My Apologies

     I do apologize for the time away from my computer recently. As I am sure everyone has experienced at least one time, the week or so before moving is especially hectic and scattered. For me, it's extra fun because of specific circumstances.

    My significant other and I have been in this area nearly a year. A record for us; the longest we have stayed in a given place since 2015. Since we have lived in this area, we have had to purchase a new vehicle due to complications with our last one. Unintentionally downsized, but I mean, c'mon.. It's green. I needed the green one. It's a Toyota Corolla, super tiny. On the same token, living somewhere semi-permanently calls for collecting new things, items that we would normally find in hotel rooms, where we often live because of how short our stays in new places usually are. Towels, storage containers, clothes hangers, dishes, tvs and other housekeeping supplies.

      The trick is going to be playing jenga with our possessions in this ever so small space. Everything the two of us own has to safely fit inside our car. No storage units, no rented trucks. We can't do that. In our lives, we could move somewhere and then move again the next day.

     That said, my job as of late has been to get rid of unnecessary things and to make plans, write lists, and reorganize things in the apartment so that leaving when the time comes will be quick and easy. Essentially, I have to plan the packing on paper before it's done so that my significant other has a map. Because he is never home during the daytime, he also never knows what is going on and definitely doesn't have the time to ask any questions. He just needs to know what to carry out and where it goes in the car.

      Most usually, when we are sure we are moving, we only have a day or so to make it somewhere else and set up our lives again. For example, we were once told on a Saturday when we were in West Virginia that we needed to be in Massachusetts for work on the following Monday. It was a 21 hour drive. Bosses expect great things from land surveyors, meaning land surveyors expect greater things from their partners. Generally, he works 12-15 hour days, giving him absolutely zero time to prep to do anything, muchless to move. Not only that, but it's not like he gets days off when it is time to go. Like my previous example for example (haha), he worked on the Saturday in WV before we picked up to move to MA and then he had to immediately step into work on that Monday. It's chaos.

    So, that's what's up with me. I am so glad that I have Diet Bach Tea on my side this go around. With the obstacles in my way, I am really benefitting from the extra push and motivation the tea is giving me to get things done. Never before have I had this much energy and positivity flowing through my person in the moving process.

High Energy

     Recently I have felt quite energetic and--dare I say--social. Before Bach Tea, it wasn't unusual for me to hole away and keep myself from people, even when I desperately wanted to be around someone. I was truly terrified of keeping in touch with friends and family because of crippling insecurities. What would they think of me? What would they say to me? Would the interraction hurt my feelings? I mean, I had beaucoups of questions brewing in my head at the first second of possible social interraction. I would be stressing myself out before the initial word was even exchanged. My mind would race, my heart would thud, sweat would bead up in the middle of my back. I was honestly scared out of my wits.

     Today, I am confident about yesterday. I went to lunch with a friend of mine for the first time--she is a waitress in a lobby restaurant at a hotel nearby where I once lived. She served me daily for a month. Since my significant other and I are moving soon, she wanted to see me one last time before I'm on to another place, and she texted me with a lunch invitation. Usually, I'd decline such an offer, but I had been feeling rather chatty and spry, so I happily accepted. I wasn't nervous when I saw her for once, and during the meal, my words weren't jumbled or stuck in my throat; I didn't stutter. We had a constant and flowing conversation that brought me great satisfaction mentally. It was such a nice meet, she didn't want to part after the communion. Instead, she asked that I come along with her to go antiquing. AND I DIDN'T SAY NO! That's walking AND talking that I agreed to. That's big for me. I am usually afraid to do any kind of exercise around anyone, muchless a casual acquaintance. And you know what? I had an absolute blast. It was wonderful. We ended up staying out together for nearly 5 hours, and I didn't panic at all.

A Kettle a Day Keeps the Woes Away

     I woke up today in the worst mood, down and irritable. Low energy, low morale. For once since I started this blog, I didn't go for tea first thing. I moped around, moved from the bed to the couch to the bed, watched some episodes of this and that on Netflix and on YouTube. I fell in and out of sleep for the next while, trying desperately to wake up on a better note than I had initially. 

    Unfortunately, it didn't work out. Still down and uber grumpy, I finally trudged to the kitchen through a figurative ten inches of wet concrete. Put on some tea and forgot about it awhile. 

     'Oh no,' I thought, 'MY TEA!' Needless to say, I'd made some type of super batch my accident, the tea having the chance to infuse and simmer in for nearly an hour. When I saw it, I considered tossing it out and trying again, writing it off as a mistake. 

     I'm very glad I didn't. Instead of the usual light brown color with green undertones, it turned out a murky, near black type of army green. It looked strange in my mug, but the taste. Oh, it was concentrated delicacy. I enjoyed it very much, gulping instead of sipping. My second helping was cool by this time and I added four ice cubes. Changed again, in a good way. A bit more bitter I'd say, but the floral essences were stronger and more pleasant. 

     My mood hasn't completely turned a 180, but my energy level has sky rocketed compared to this morning. As I type, I am merely taking a break from chores. I've already washed all my dishes and my laundry, taken the garbage down to the dumpster, and wiped down all my window blinds. I am feeling up to much more, so I'm going to hop to it. Just wanted to pop in to tell everyone about the wonderful accident today. 

Too Early

    I woke up today suddenly from a nightmare. It has left me rather shaken, feeling antsy and nervous. I am too wound up to go back to sleep, or to even try for that matter. Yesterday, I got a letter in the mail from a dear high school friend I haven't seen since we graduated together in 2015. I spent a bulk of my afternoon and evening replying by hand. I ended up with twenty-two notebook pages splattered with my thoughts, feelings, experiences, hopes, and dreams. I wrote well, and I wrote honestly.

    When I finally fell asleep on the couch in the midst of a crime documentary, I dreamt of my high school friend showing up states away at my apartment door and shaming me for what I had written, for the soul I spilled on the pages of my currently unsent mail. In this nightmare world, he was stronger than ever and much bigger than me. I felt a distinct fear that came through to me even after I opened my eyes to find I was safe. I was brutally murdered by a once close friend in my night terror, and it hurt me even after it was over. Not physically, of course, but mentally and emotionally. I keep thinking about it though I try hard not to. The dream has almost discouraged me from sending out the reply I have so dutifully and deliberately written.

    Of course, that's silly, right? It was just a heap of my own subconscious insecurities falling into my sleep, I suppose.

    So, here I sit, curled up on my couch with a cup of hot, comforting tea at my side on the end table and my laptop taking up the empty space across my legs. I am trying my best to put the horrible dream behind me and begin my day on my own terms; television and tea.