So let's talk about my transparency with you, blog reader. You see these fleshed out thoughts, edited photos (Snapseed, anyone? Anyone? No? Well, look into it. It's fantastic. (Available on iPhone and Android)), and all about a week after the fact. Oh well, at least it's dated properly. That's not very transparent, is it? I even lie about the day it's posted on! Sheesh.
I construct the blog mostly with the Weebly app; before I downloaded that, I had kept a long bullet-point list going on my phone, but the app makes it so much easier since I can upload photos directly from my phone to the blog draft. Before I had been uploading them to Google Drive, downloading them to my computer, and uploading them to the blog. Time. Waster. Now I have enough time on my hands to sit and blog about how I blog! Fascinating, right? Probably not. Moving on.
Here's what I had from 8AM to about 1PM:
still not feeling great. escalators haven't been working this week.
it was a bit muggier today... the humidity was a bit more tangible, although there was a cool breeze, so that helped.
new employee orientation 9am-1pm
went home afterwards because I felt unsteady and ill... hoping it's just fatigue.
As you can see, it's not particularly fleshy, but there is still enough detail to spark something when I get home (or when I get around to finally writing the blog post).
Spoiler alert: It's not just fatigue.
What? Oh. Yes, fine. Transparency. Sorry.
This morning, despite lolling around in bed for an hour in a half-asleep "Ugh, I don't feel good" haze, I managed to get out of the door before 8AM. Put a gold star on her chart, Bob!
It was a miracle. It was a miracle because in the hour it took me to get out the door, I was uncommonly productive. Having only had 6-7 hours of sleep, I was particularly on it this morning. As someone in class this evening said: "holla!" (What does that even mean? All I know is that it's some sort of affirmative exclamation. Oh gosh. At least I have my dictionary, even if I don't have the lingo.... I think I'm a social disgrace to all college students.)
Within an hour I had:
Had a face mask (I've been converted. I'm a lushie. It's ah.ma.zing.)
Washed my hair
Styled my hair (walking outside in this humidity with wet hair? DISASTER.)
Remembered to put moisturizer on my face (my female officemate gave me this to try out)
Chosen an outfit (bad intern: always pick out your clothes the night before!)
Chosen a different outfit
Contemplated high heels
Nixed that thought without much ado
Assembled everything I needed (sans sunglasses-- more on that in a second)
... At 7:50 I was shoving my gladware-packaged lunch into my purse (probably not the best idea if we're being honest; I need to use my lunchbag more...) and thinking about whether or not I had everything. Forgetting my sunglasses on my dresser has become an unfailing fixture in my morning routine, and this morning was no different. There are two options by the time I remember: 1) walk half a city block back to the RAF, or 2) brave DC summer with bare eyes. It's about a 50/50 for the two in terms of popular choice. Mostly it depends on if I feel like trudging back up stairs anytime soon.
The reason this morning that I neglected to go back in to pick them up (new excuse every day!) was that at 7:56, as I was struggling with fitting the plastic container around the notebooks, papers, phone charging cords, and other random paraphernalia that I keep in my purse, my phone began to ring.
I smiled, thinking it was my Granddad. We've made it a habit this week to talk in the morning while I walk from my apartment building to my metro station, so I wasn't off-base with my assumption.
But it wasn't my grandfather.
"Daddy" flashed across the screen while the phone played a strange ringtone that I hadn't assigned.
With my parents on the west coast, I avoid calling them before 10/11AM, so I knew when he called me that he was out working. Start the day off by talking with dad? You bet! As irreplaceable as Granddad is, his morning conversation slot had been usurped.
It was quite lovely; we caught up on each other's lives, and I told him a funny story about something that had happened at work. This was perhaps the first time I'd ever wished that the metro wasn't so close to home. Too soon, I had to hang up because I was on the train and headed for a tunnel to go underground. It was a short call, just 8 minutes, but it was the highlight of my day.
Sitting down on the train when I first boarded was surreal. I found myself briefly wondering if there was some sort of Pre-Holiday in anticipation of July 4th because the train car I boarded didn't resemble a sardine can. The mystery solved itself about 12 minutes later when I found myself at my stop, staring at my phone. The time couldn't be right. I was so very, very early.
Apparently, it pays to beat the be-at-work-at-9AM crowd!!
I had stayed up late the night before in order to catch someone for a short chat (time changes are partially the bane of my existence as far as communication with the people I care about goes), so I was still feeling groggy when I called my Granddad. Along the way I spotted the cheerful yellow sign of Au Bon Pain, and realized that popping in for a coffee and a bagel (in order of importance) wasn't such a bad idea. He and I talked as I walked to work this morning. It's a longer walk, partially because I have to wait for two crosswalks, so I may start calling him at that point. We'll see how it works out.
We said goodbye as I walked up to my building and scanned my security badge. I wasn't feeling well, but I sat down at my desk and worked a bit as I was waiting for time to pass until the 9AM New Employee Orientation. Orientation went well; the various divisions within the company each made a short presentation of what they did, and who was involved. It was pretty interesting. At the end, we had a trivia game, and I ended up with a Special Olympics lapel pin. Score!
I left the office after orientation because I had developed a low grade fever, and was continually feeling like I was slipping down some health slope. Yuck. So I did what always helps: I called my mom. We chatted as I walked back to the metro, and then I enjoyed the beauty of riding the metro during the middle of the work day. Or, I imagine, I would have enjoyed it if I hadn't felt so ill. Part of my wanted to lean against the window, but the part of me that realized that fifty other people had probably done that in the past hour kept me upright.
When I got home, I finalized the presentation for this evening's class and printed out my handouts. Finally, an hour before class, I collapsed on my bed and willed myself not to go to sleep.
Class was good, although I didn't stay for all of it. My fever was on-again-off-again today, and it came back during class. 2/3 of the way through, I handed my phone to a friend to record the class (with Mr. I's permission) and went upstairs to bed.
Rachel dropped off my phone after class, and Kendra showed up about ten minutes later with a care package: a ton of ibuprofen, bite sized chocolates, an Earl Grey tea bag, and a sleepy-time tea. She's so thoughtful. I couldn't take the ibuprofen (I had taken some earlier), and I already had a cup of chamomile on my bedside table, but the chocolates!?