Elgan speaks
...and her words thunder across the land

Things can always get worse, and they usually do.

Sunday, Apr. 25, 2004
10:21 p.m.
I still have not found that T-Bill receipt, and as a result my taxes remain undone. Dang!

I had a long chat with zitagsd who gave me all sorts of helpful advice on how to tackle the clutter and mess in my house. She gave me ten minutes to rush around the attic, where I am now, gather up mess, throw it in a box and make the place look more presentable. After ten minutes I had succeeded in gathering up several cardboard boxes for the recycling, and realizing that the task is larger than I am. The floor is covered with boxes full of things like concert programmes, musical scores, art supplies, cassette tapes, CDs; there is a synthesizer keyboard on the floor with piles of guitar music heaped up nearby, and under the other electronic keyboard are open boxes of manuscript paper. I admit the art supplies are mine, and so are the boxes (and boxes) of fantasy and science-fiction novels stacked up against one wall. However, among all these boxes you will find dust, hair, and other disgusting groodits like eraser droppings, dead flies�. Must I continue?

I already had a headache when I began and complaining to zitagsd about my messy family just made it worse. She had to go do something else, so I gathered up my recycling and headed downstairs with it, only to find coffee splatters all over the stove and countertop from the espresso maker (only one person in this house uses it, ahem) and upon grabbing the dishrag and wiping up, the back of my head started feeling like it was going to explode. I immediately took two extra-strength acetaminophen tablets and, making crying and whimpering noises, lay down with my icy fingers pressed against my face. Eventually the pain became less and I slept.

It�s been a couple of years since I had a headache like that one. The last one occurred when my mother, brother and his family were visiting two summers ago. Yes, this is the very same brother whose investments I manage. Grrrr. The only explanation I have is stress. Normally I am pretty good at dealing with stress. It must just build up to the point where I am immobilized with pain at certain times when my life becomes overwhelming.

Then there is the whole hormonal thing that is happening with me right now. So tomorrow I have to make phone calls: doctor�s appointments for me and Buddy Boy, optometrist for Buddy Boy who lost a contact lens yesterday (I just knew this would happen), the investment manager for the amount of the T-Bill, and I�m probably forgetting something. �Night.

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