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Two Kinds of People

/ wvfurandroot / 8 Comments
Mosquito

Mosquito

I can’t remember who said it, but somebody said, “There are two kinds of people: those who think there are two kinds of people and those who don’t.”

As someone who has studied anthropology, I know full well that there are far more than two kinds of people, but if I were to make sweeping generalizations I might suggest that people react to stress by either developing chronic headache problems or developing chronic intestinal problems.

Like the Great Apes, I fall into the latter category. When life gets crazy, I buy toilet paper by the truck load. When life gets crazy, other folks I know buy Excedrin, Motrin or Advil by the gross.

Two kinds of people.

I’ve had a headache I attributed to tripping over the computer cord and cracking my head on the sewing machine 11 days ago. At the time, I felt fortunate at not having to call 911 or an undertaker or my chiropractor or my orthopedist. I was absolutely fine (and grateful to not have had witnesses to my clutziness) until days later when the scab started pulling. There was a blazing headache behind my left eye. I was sure that if I looked in the mirror there would be flames shooting from my ears.

Removing the scab, drinking 4 oz of vodka, and binging on Advil seemed to do the trick. For three days.

I'm not dying, I'm not dying, I'm not dying

Repeat: I am not dying.

I almost never get headaches.

Since I never get them, I have no tolerance and develop a feeling of certitude that I’m dying of something. Excuse me a moment while I put the CDC on speed-dial.

That certitude is not without foundation.

Eleven years ago, on the way to the pediatrician to get Chef Boy ‘R Mine his sports physical, I developed a headache. By the time the doc started yammering at me about height percentiles, immunizations, and puberty, I could barely see for the headache. How I drove home remains a mystery.

By 2 a.m., I was delirious from the headache and puking up internal organs. My head was an orb of pure pain, my back was screaming, and I couldn’t hold my head up to drink water to wash the vomit out of my mouth which was okay because I couldn’t have kept it down. By 1 p.m., I managed to dial the phone and talk long enough to convince the ex to take me to my doctor. Upon arrival at her office it was mere moments before I was wheel-chaired, in great haste, to the E.R. and folks started yammering about brain scans and spinal taps. The only thing I remember with any clarity was telling the E.R doc that I was afraid of the spinal tap. He assured me that it would only hurt for a moment and then all the pain would go away.

Blessed relief.

Infected

Infected

I’m not sure what he gave me, but I was unconscious for three days – the length of time it took to grow a culture and determine that I had viral meningitis. I might be making this up, but I’m pretty sure they told me that I most likely contracted the disease from a mosquito bite.

Unlike bacterial meningitis, there’s no treatment for viral meningitis other than pain meds. It just needs to run its course.

It was a miserable three weeks.

August, I’m told, is the signature month for viral meningitis. With all the rain of the past several months, I have a mosquito problem for the first time ever. They’re everywhere. As soon as I get out of the car, I’m enveloped in a swarm of blood-thirsty proboscii (proboscises?).

This headache bears no resemblance to that one of eleven years ago, but still I’m nervous about those mosquitoes. It was with some relief that I started sneezing this morning. About an hour or so ago, I developed a cough.

I have a cold.

A simple cold.

Nonetheless, I’ve still got the CDC on speed dial.

Quarantined!

Quarantined!

Summer colds suck, but they’re infinitely better than meningitis. So far it’s not affecting my work life (even if I’m using lunch time to blog).

One of my pet peeves is that people won’t stay home when sick – thus infecting everyone else. I don’t have time for a sick day. I’ve put a Quarantined! sign on my office door and warned folks. I’ve sprayed Lysol and I’m mainlining orange juice and aspirin.

As soon as I feel better, I’m buying mosquito netting and swaddling my body. Think see-through burka.

So. There are two kinds of people. Those who over-react to statistically-unlikely possibilities and those who don’t.

Lilac or Lavender (but not purple)

/ wvfurandroot / 11 Comments
Lavender copy paper inspiration.

Lavender copy paper inspiration.

Of late, I am not accustomed to things going according to plan. It’s been so bad that I’ve taken to saying that I’m bad at planning. Although properly executed with the appropriate preparation and diligence, things go awry. And nothing goes awry like paint.

I have painting stories that’ll curl your stir sticks. Really.

While nothing will ever top the Great Tibetan Red Saga, there was the Moose Mousse episode and it’s probably best if I don’t go into the Homestead Antique Cameo story. The Cerulean Blue master bath was not an unmitigated disaster, but it also didn’t end up as expected.

I am so scarred by these episodes, coupled with some trauma from my youth, I am afraid of color. So. Imagine my surprise when this past January I started thinking about painting the office at my place of employment lavender.

Honestly, you’d think I’d know better. That definition of crazy – doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different result – would appear to be in play here. I yearn for strong color on my walls, but cringe at the results.

Still, I dutifully collected paint chips and examined them in all the various light that occurs in my office. I solicited opinions (most of which resulted in dubious expressions from my co-workers). All of these samples left something to be desired. One day, while busy doing fundraising type stuff, I encountered a piece of standard lavender copy paper. It looked just peachy laying on my desk. It looked even better on the credenza-hutch thingie. I said, “Hmmmm.”

I solicited more opinions.

More dubiousness.

Now some months ago I posted a picture of the mess in my office. In case you missed it, here it is.

It's silly season at the office

Not quite ready for the unclutterer.

Clearly, this is a disaster that even lavender paint can’t make worse.

Clutching copy paper in hand, I toddled off to the Home Depot where they cheerfully mixed me up a can of lavender satin wall paint.

After the first coat, I was ready for a martini. “This,” I said, “is going to be bad.”

After the second coat, I realized it wasn’t bad. I just needed to adjust my planned decorating scheme. (I am bad at planning.) I pulled out everything that wasn’t black, white or gray.

“This,” I said, “might work.”

I remembered some things I had at the house that would do.

This is the miracle part.

Junk to Treasure

Junk to Treasure

For years I have been de-junking and de-cluttering the house. I have made great strides. But, I had some things that didn’t go with the house but that I liked too much to get rid of. They’ve been taking up valuable closet space and just a couple of weeks ago I was resolved to get it out of my house. I am trying not to be a packrat; and hanging on to stuff I’m not using is antithetical to my goals.

All that stuff I referred to as crap just a few weeks ago is now appropriate and much loved office décor. For years I’ve heard that the secret to decorating is to buy only what you love and eventually it will all come together. Well, people, it seems to be true (though you might need a couple of cans of spray paint).

Because the office was disassembled, I took advantage of the absolute chaos of painting and moving furniture to do a major purge. When I first started working there in 2004, I didn’t have a sense of what I needed to keep and what I didn’t, so I kept everything. Five years later, I’ve decided that 95% of it can go. And go it went. I now have empty filing cabinet drawers and I know where my manicure set is as well as the baby footprint certificates. Woo Hoo!

Reassembling the office was great fun. With every new addition, the plan I didn’t plan came to fruition.

Seashells

Seashells

I am wildly in love with my lavender office which proves, I think, that I’m crazy. I did the same thing this time and got a different result. The office is tranquil, elegant, refined and sophisticated. The first thought that goes through anyone’s head is that this is not the least bit like me.

BTW, it’s lavender or lilac. It is not purple. I dislike purple. I would never ever not ever under any circumstances color my life with purple.