This is my fourth week at my new job. And for the most part I really like it. But I've noticed something. Now that I have a "desk job" and most of my work activities are working on the computer, I get home from work and I don't have much interest in doing much else on the computer.
So, while I have things to blog about that aren't related to my foot, I have little desire to actually make it happen. (I really do plan on posting about my new house and pictures too!) I have so much computer screen time at work, that I come home and just don't want any more.
Anyway, because of that, I may be even lighter on blogging than I have been.
But, as long as I'm blogging right now, I'll share a vignette from my life.
Back in March I traveled out to Utah to give a presentation. Shortly afterwards I was asked for my address so that I could be sent a check to reimburse me for my travel expenses.
A few weeks pass.
Then another couple weeks.
Then I got an email letting me know that the check had been returned. It couldn't be delivered. Had I given them the right address?
I reconfirmed my address, and then gave my work address as an alternative. (That was actually long enough ago that I hadn't started my new job, but I knew I would be.)
More time passed--like another month.
Last week I was told that the check had been returned undeliverable again and they'd be sending it to my work address.
Today I finally got it.
Here's why it had such trouble being delivered: It was addressed to Peanut Jean Frogmorton instead of Peanut Zoolander.
Dear BYU,
I got married. A while ago. And I changed my last name. And somehow you knew that when you invited me out there and addressed everything to Dr. Zoolander. Then what happened?
Thank you,
Dr. Zoolander
Dear Mailman,
I know that letter had a different last name than normally gets delivered to that particular mailbox. But, really, how many other Peanut Jeans do you have on your mail route? And hey, by the way, you aren't so picky about not delivering the junk mail and unpaid bills of the 4 previous residents of that address. Why so picky now?
Most Sincerely,
Peanut Frogmorton
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
You bring the insults, I'll take care of the injury
Monday morning. I woke up and began getting ready for work. At some point I decided to take an empty box down to the garage. The problem--I missed the last step.
I crash onto the floor, the brunt of the fall being taken by the top of my right foot. I collapse in a heap on the cement floor and wimper. I lay there for a few seconds. In my bathrobe, towel on my head. Wimpering hasn't helped, so I sit up.
Ouch. Damn.
I struggle to get ready while also trying to ice my foot. Hurt foot or not, I have a 9:15 meeting that I'm not going to miss. As part of the meeting we go around the room and each have a chance to share good news and then bad news. Making light of my earlier accident, for my bad news I mention that I hurt my foot so I'm moving a little slow. I have an icepack on my foot under the table.
After the meeting ends, I go to my desk and for the rest of the day do whatever I can to not get up. No bathroom trips. No water cooler trips (and since my water bottle is empty, no ibuprofen--but hey, if I just sit still it really doesn't hurt that badly). A couple of times I stand up and contemplate moving away from my desk, and then I change my mind.
I'm aggravated at the whole situation. What a time for this. Just the day before Marty and I were talking about whether we should pay for a month of Cobra insurance for me. He's got health insurance through his job, but with my job change, I'm uninsured for a month unless I go with the Cobra coverage. I glibly said, "Well, I just won't get sick or injured."
Of course the next day I proved myself wrong. So as I was working, and not leaving my desk, I began contemplating--Do I need to go to the doctor? If so, would it be better/cheaper to cough up the obscene rate for the Cobra coverage or to be uninsured and pay for it all myself? And before I can even get to the doctor, will I be walking, hopping, or crawling to my car? Will I be able to drive?
At some point during the day I took off my shoe--easier access for the icepack, and less constricting for my swollen foot. When I went to put my shoe back on, I felt like one of Cinderella's step sisters--my foot was in as far as it would go, and my heel was hanging an inch over the back of the shoe. Don't worry, I didn't take a knife to my heel or big toe. My foot was already in bad enough shape.
I spent Monday night on the couch and Marty was a sweetheart and brought me everything I asked for. A couple of times he caught me crawling around the house in my attempts at independence, and he reminded me that he was happy to help me.
On Tuesday morning I was happy to see that the swelling had gone down. Mind you, it was still twice it's normal size, but I no longer looked like I'd gotten a foot transplant from the incredible hulk. Walking still wasn't comfortable and I had a noticeable limp, but I didn't have to confine myself to my desk or hop my way around the office.
As of today, it's better still. Still swollen, and now turning purple, but it doesn't hurt as badly. And, I can even walk without limping sometimes. Sometimes not.
(I tried to take some pictures, but they didn't come out well.)
I crash onto the floor, the brunt of the fall being taken by the top of my right foot. I collapse in a heap on the cement floor and wimper. I lay there for a few seconds. In my bathrobe, towel on my head. Wimpering hasn't helped, so I sit up.
Ouch. Damn.
I struggle to get ready while also trying to ice my foot. Hurt foot or not, I have a 9:15 meeting that I'm not going to miss. As part of the meeting we go around the room and each have a chance to share good news and then bad news. Making light of my earlier accident, for my bad news I mention that I hurt my foot so I'm moving a little slow. I have an icepack on my foot under the table.
After the meeting ends, I go to my desk and for the rest of the day do whatever I can to not get up. No bathroom trips. No water cooler trips (and since my water bottle is empty, no ibuprofen--but hey, if I just sit still it really doesn't hurt that badly). A couple of times I stand up and contemplate moving away from my desk, and then I change my mind.
I'm aggravated at the whole situation. What a time for this. Just the day before Marty and I were talking about whether we should pay for a month of Cobra insurance for me. He's got health insurance through his job, but with my job change, I'm uninsured for a month unless I go with the Cobra coverage. I glibly said, "Well, I just won't get sick or injured."
Of course the next day I proved myself wrong. So as I was working, and not leaving my desk, I began contemplating--Do I need to go to the doctor? If so, would it be better/cheaper to cough up the obscene rate for the Cobra coverage or to be uninsured and pay for it all myself? And before I can even get to the doctor, will I be walking, hopping, or crawling to my car? Will I be able to drive?
At some point during the day I took off my shoe--easier access for the icepack, and less constricting for my swollen foot. When I went to put my shoe back on, I felt like one of Cinderella's step sisters--my foot was in as far as it would go, and my heel was hanging an inch over the back of the shoe. Don't worry, I didn't take a knife to my heel or big toe. My foot was already in bad enough shape.
I spent Monday night on the couch and Marty was a sweetheart and brought me everything I asked for. A couple of times he caught me crawling around the house in my attempts at independence, and he reminded me that he was happy to help me.
On Tuesday morning I was happy to see that the swelling had gone down. Mind you, it was still twice it's normal size, but I no longer looked like I'd gotten a foot transplant from the incredible hulk. Walking still wasn't comfortable and I had a noticeable limp, but I didn't have to confine myself to my desk or hop my way around the office.
As of today, it's better still. Still swollen, and now turning purple, but it doesn't hurt as badly. And, I can even walk without limping sometimes. Sometimes not.
(I tried to take some pictures, but they didn't come out well.)
Monday, May 05, 2008
Good news!
Someone's rental application to take over our lease was accepted!
And, yes, they were bombarded with applications today. Now I'm OK with the property manager trying to fill up the other available units with people we've gotten interested.
And, yes, they were bombarded with applications today. Now I'm OK with the property manager trying to fill up the other available units with people we've gotten interested.
Sunday, May 04, 2008
Update: Frustrated
A quick update on my last post. Well, we haven't officially found someone to take over our lease, but I think we're on our way... I think we've learned a few things since I posted about my frustration. When people come to see it and seem interested, we no longer refer them to the property manager. Instead, we spell out the next steps specifically for them: fill out and print the rental application, and then drop off or mail application, fee, and copy of drivers license. And while they're here, we are sure to emphasize why our unit is better than the others nearby, especially since most of them comment on them anyway.
We continue to show our place, and after this weekend and its half-dozen showings, I think we're in good shape. Marty said that he thought two of the showings he did today were going to race each other to get their applications in.
So, hopefully in the next week, we'll hear good news from our property manager that someone's application was accepted.
We continue to show our place, and after this weekend and its half-dozen showings, I think we're in good shape. Marty said that he thought two of the showings he did today were going to race each other to get their applications in.
So, hopefully in the next week, we'll hear good news from our property manager that someone's application was accepted.
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