Pondering Cats, Exercise, Work, and more

Cats are very manipulative, aren't they? Of course I love them (well, Carlos) anyway, but: I was home all day Saturday, with plenty of kitty cuddle time; most of Sunday, ditto; and again all day Monday except for a couple of hours in the evening. But according to Carlos, he was suffering severely from a lack of attention last night, and needed to sleep on my lap to make it up. Fortunately for him, I enjoy that too, so it worked out. He wasn't too thrilled to be gently removed from the lap after about an hour and a half, but since all I did was get ready for bed, he joined me there and got over it.

The feline mystery I referred to had to do with my sleeping in on the weekends, and the premise that cats can't tell time. Can they, or can't they: what do you think?

I love sleeping in, and while my bladder wakes me once or twice in an average night, I am usually able to get back to sleep again. Early on Saturday morning, I turned over in bed and one of the cats mmrped hopefully: breakfast time? I considered, decided that I had to go to the bathroom anyway, so I put my glasses on, and looked at the clock.

It was 6:10, which happens to be the exact time that my alarm goes off on work days. Interesting, I thought, and got on with it.

Sunday, and much the same sequence of events unfolds. The time? 6:09. Hmmm.

Monday morning of my lovely three-day weekend. Same sequence, and the time was 6:10.

I turn over all night long (I am not a peaceful sleeper), so it's not like I turned over just at 6:10 every morning and roused them. It seems an unlikely coincidence to me, that's all I'm saying.

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You may have noticed that I haven't been whining about the winter weather quite as much recently as I was, say, in January. You would be correct if you assumed that was because the weather in February has not sucked quite as much as January's.

It hasn't been lovely by any means, but it hasn't been quite so ... so ... well, it hasn't had me consulting the pro/con list for moving to Florida, which I absolutely did make in January. In fact, for a few days last week we got significantly-warm-for-February weather, which was delightful, not so much in the experiencing (I was at work, inside, during the nicest parts), but in the snow-pile-meltage. It's amazingly nice to be able to see at corners, and walk without snow boots. And while it snowed yesterday, the light, fluffy stuff mostly melted again after the storm passed. I didn't even have to clear off the car. My kind of snow storm.

Despite the relative improvement in the weather, it's still winter, and dreary, and cold (sometimes painfully so), and layers and all that tiresome stuff. So when I was at Trader Joe's last week, I picked up a pot of tulips to brighten the kitchen.


Mission accomplished. I smile every time I look at them.

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I've noticed this happening before. There is some action or behavior I know I should be doing (or, sometimes, not doing). I should eat better in some way, I should exercise more. You know the sort of thing: maybe you should stop smoking, or balance the checkbook. Something that you should do, you know you should do, you mean to do ... but you don't.

I have an exercise bike.

I have given it precious space in my living room.

In January, I rode it twice.

Sure, there are excuses. I was away for a week! I was getting exercise shoveling! But, you know, two times isn't much.

And just to be clear, when I say "ride the bike", I mean literally, for five minutes at a time. I can't do more at a time; five minutes leaves me breathless, staggering to the couch on jelly-legs. In the past, I have worked up to six minutes, seven, eight, but not much more. So when I talk about riding the bike, I'm not talking about a huge time commitment.

Twice in January.

In nice weather, I like to go for walks, so I get some exercise that way. In winter, other than stairs (living on the second floor, laundry in the basement; some days it adds up), the bike is my main choice. It's here, and it's free.

I knew I should ride it more, but I just didn't. For no real reason. Until last Tuesday, the 15th, when I suddenly thought, for no reason, this is silly. Just ride the thing. And I did.

Tuesday, and Wednesday, and Thursday, and Friday. It definitely helped when I realized that I could knit while riding, since that helps me keep my eyes off the clock during the longest five minutes of the day. I didn't do it on Saturday, but that's okay. Setting a goal of riding every single day without failure is setting myself up to fail. Missing a day is okay.

On Sunday, I rode it, and later did another five minutes. Same on Monday.

It has to help, right? Even five minutes of exercise is better than none. So I'll try to keep going.

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I don't think I ever mentioned that they moved me to a new desk at work. My boss called me right before I came back after Christmas to let me know that they'd been moving some people around, and she'd moved my things to a different desk, around the corner, over here. I appreciated her call very much, as if I had returned from my time off to find someone else sitting at "my" desk, I would have assumed that was a giant hint.

So the good news is that I'm no longer under two vents that blow 98% of the day. Really, it's amazing how much quieter and less blow-y it is, and I enjoy that very much. The temperatures in my new area still fluctuate rather dramatically, but at least there isn't a strong wind on my head all the time. When I walk by the area where I used to sit, and feel the breeze, hear the noise, I am grateful all over again.

Of course, there's bad news, too. My least favorite thing about my new desk is that frequently (though not always) when anyone walks nearby, the desk sort of vibrates, and my monitor vibrates madly, enough to make me seasick. Not pleasant. Something wrong with a support, perhaps? (I haven't asked anyone if it could be fixed, since I keep thinking that it's a short-term problem, as I've been expecting this job to end since around Christmas, yet here I still am.)

My second least favorite thing is that there's a conference room nearby whose meeting occupants regularly leave the door open, sharing their meetings with everyone in earshot. Lovely. If I was supposed to hear your conference call, wouldn't I be invited to the meetings? It's so inconsiderate.* Not to mention** when someone steps out of a meeting to take a phone call, and stands around this area for 5 to 10 minutes, talking on the phone. Nice.

*Today, trying to be charitable, I asked my cube-neighbor if there was any actual reason why they keep the door open, and she said, "NO!" before I finished framing the question. (I was thinking maybe it gets hot in there, or ... the door interferes with the phone reception ... or something.) Anyway, it isn't just me who finds it maddening.
**I told you not to mention that.

These are, I've been telling myself, short-term problems. It's a temp job, I won't be here long, they aren't going to go to much trouble for me and frankly, any day might be my last here. But while all that is true, I am still here, and this any-day-could-be-my-last feeling is wearing on my nerves. I mean, nothing better has come along, and I'm honestly glad to be getting paid at all, but emotionally it is wearing. I want a new job, a permanent job, a job where I can work happily for years. Or at least pretend that that's possible.

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Happy weekend plans coming together, involving visiting a friend in western Mass and going to Webs! Fun!