Responsibility

Yesterday, I:

• had a bowl of veggie/rice/kidney bean soup with two pieces of buttered toast for dinner;
• had a hot cocoa w/ it;
• took a hot bath for my... soreness;
• tried to go to sleep at 8pm;
• finally went to sleep around 9:30;
• was kept awake by my boyfriend, who hadn't seen me since 6am (my novelty hasn't worn off).

Today, I:

• had a bowl of oatmeal cooked with a banana for breakfast;
• drank a cafe au lait;
• had a cup of herbal tea at work;
• ate two cheese sandwiches for lunch;
• snacked on a couple sugared, sour, peeled dried plums? I think? (Our admin. people put out the damnest food... and I always eat it!)
• drank a Diet Coke;
• am starving.

The countdown is really on now! Couple days 'til testing...

Work

When I lived in Boston, I had a long commute (45 mins., each way) but I passed the Post Office, which was on my block. This meant I could reasonably participate in swaps, etc.

The Post Office closest to me in Oakland is, I suspect, in Emeryville. I have not been to this Post Office, but a friend of mine has (on my behalf, picking up a package) and I recently missed getting a package there because, frankly, I SIMPLY COULD NOT MAKE IT. There is a Post Office near the BART station I take in the morning - I think it's in Berkeley - but I am on the train in the morning before it opens and off it in the evening way after it closes.

This Post Office situation, combined with my now 1hr 30 min commute (each way), now means that seeing a Post Office is something I can only dream of. This has created problems.

I have an hour lunch, but I have no idea where there is a Post Office in San Leandro, and I have no car and work in an industrial area. If I forget lunch I can't even get that. I am out of luck. (If, however, I want to become a connoisseur of big rig truck types, this is the place!)

Seriously. For three months my rent has been a couple days late because I could not get a stamp. (I know what you're thinking - when I finally got a stamp for the first one, why didn't I get more? In answer to that question, ask yourself: How many three cent stamps scavenged from my junk drawer fit on a standard business envelope? And how many months can I desperately scavenge 3 cent stamps in my apartment? Answer: one. The landlord picked up the others.) I am so behind in a swap I'm in, I should fear a lynch mob. (Seriously, again.) And those clothes I was going to send to my nephew? He's outgrown them.

This is quite a dilemma. It may be solved by the presence of the boyfriend, who has evening classes. But one thing I have decided: no more swaps, no more book exchanges. I'm not even sure I can order yarn online. Or magazines. (The mailperson is oddly reluctant to fit them in my box, and instead is insisting I come get them in Emeryville. What's with that?)

So. I will have a discussion with the boyfriend. He's proven himself proficient in grocery shopping by proxy so far... maybe he is good at parcels, too.

But I am finding it incredibly ironic that having a steady job means I can't get anything, even very basic things, done without great difficulty. Spraining the foot would have been the end of me, probably, if the boyfriend hadn't been here, because I spent the first couple days crawling, and it's hard to grocery shop like that. (As it was, I missed two days of work because I simply could not get there. When I was well enough I was hauled to a bike shop by a friend, fortunately.)