Independence Day

Several years ago my mother told me that the reason I’m single is because I’m too independent; she said that I don’t need a man, that there isn’t anything I need or want in my life that I can’t get myself. Naturally, I disputed it, but she had a retort for everything I threw out there.

Naturally, I dismissed it, but since then I’ve wondered if she’s right. Maybe independence isn’t a desirable trait; maybe I need to be more dependent. But then I started thinking about the alternative.

Take my stepmother, for instance; my dad does everything for her. Her responsibilities in life consist solely of cooking dinner and cleaning the house; dad works, pays the bills and even takes her shopping.

It’s to the point where if anything were to happen and my dad wasn’t around anymore, I’m pretty sure she would not be able to function in the world.

This. Happened. I could not make eye contact with the cashier while she handed back one of the twenties as change.

All things considered, I don’t think my problem is a bad thing. Besides, I’ve also realized that I can’t do everything myself; I do need help. Take that, Mom. 

In September 2012, I bought a new TV. When I got it home, I took my old one off the TV stand, plopped it down on the floor and set up my new one.

Fast forward to September 2013:

It was still sitting there for a few reasons. First, I’m lazy. Second, I’m weak. Third, I have a bad back. All these reasons made it so that I literally couldn’t pick it up, get it into my car and bring it to the recycling depot.

Fast forward to last month:

I did, however, make some progress; I asked a neighbour friend of mine if he’d be willing to help me get it out of my house. Fortunately, he said yes; unfortunately, it took him 3 weeks to make it happen. He was apologetic but I told him that it was a drop in the bucket compared to how long it took me to even ask for help.

Fast forward to yesterday: he came over and took it to the recycling depot with me.

21 months later, I finally have two square feet of floor space back.

I got laryngitis again

You may or may not remember a post from a few months back when I got laryngitis. Well, it happened again. And this time not entirely due to my own stupidity.

I recently went on a business trip (first one – it was terrifying!). The first day in Ontario, I developed a scratchy throat; luckily nothing materialized throughout my 3 day stay. I returned home Wednesday night and also noticed a scratchy throat; I attributed it to dry airplane air. Friday night, I went salsa dancing and once again noticed pain in my throat. I chalked it up to me being thirsty from dancing up a storm.

After leaving dance, I stopped off at my local watering hole and met up with some friends; we then went back to one of their houses and continued the festivities until far too late.

I woke up on Saturday feeling off; I wasn’t hungover (as these stories typically end), since I hadn’t had much to drink. I felt like I had the beginning of a cold; the sore throat had finally materialized. When my stepmom called, I realized that I didn’t have full use of my voice. A telltale sign of what was to come.

I went to my folks place for dinner, but had to leave fairly early because I was feeling and my voice was getting increasingly worse. I may or may not have made the mistake of singing in my car on the way home.

On Sunday, it was ten times worse; the laryngitis was in full force. When my mom called, I could barely squeak out a conversation. Later that day, I needed food, but didn’t have the energy to cook (if I had food), shop (to go get food) or anything. I decided to order some take out, but realized that I literally couldn’t. I went down to the restaurant with everything they could possibly ask me written down on a piece of paper.

Monday was fortunately a holiday and fortunately my voice started resembling normalcy once again. Unfortunately, the cold had reached mammoth proportions. Overall, a great way to spend a long weekend.

I set myself up on the couch with all the drinking implements I could need throughout the day. I was laid up the entire day, racked with coughs, body aches and fever.

I pushed myself to go to work today, partially because I have great work ethic (*cough* LIAR *cough*), but mostly because my body physically couldn’t stand another day of lying around.

I barely made it halfway through my day before I tapped out and went home. So although I haven’t spent the entire day laid up, I’ve spent the better part of the day doing absolutely nothing.

Four days and counting; hoping tomorrow is a better day. Wish me luck, folks!

The Battle of the Ants

I live in a basement suite, so I get my fair share of creepy-crawlies creeping and crawling through my place. Naturally, I have patience for some more than others.

Every year in April or May, the ants come out looking for food. Every year in April or May, I make sure to remove anything resembling food from the area around my front door (that’s where they tend to come in). Every year in April or May, despite my efforts, I have a trail of ants coming through my house. Sometimes just one here or there or sometimes a mass infestation if I neglected to remove all the things resembling food in time (like my collection of empty bottles, for example).

This year, I was certain I was in good shape. I’d returned all my empties months ago, I spring-cleaned the area where my plants live, so any dirt, debris and sticky stuff was gone. So when I saw the first of the ants, I didn’t think too much of it. But one became five and then five became ten.

The battle of the ants had begun. I was thoroughly cleaning my floors, when I was bleaching them, I noticed all the ants were congregated in one area right by my front door. I vacuumed the mat in front of my door, but then minutes later saw ants crawling all over it again. I lifted up the corner was shocked at what I found.

Literally* hundreds (*not literally) of ants milling about! I began pulling out anything and everything in that area in preparation of cleaning the shit of out it all. And that’s when I found it.

Months ago (obviously), a small candy cane fell off my table unnoticed and landed amongst my reusable shopping bags; it then became the coveted food item all the ants in the neighbourhood sought. They were obviously all talking about it based on the congregation I found.

I cleaned it all up, bleached the area and it appears as though I’ve once again reigned supreme in the battle of the ants.

It’s only a matter of time until they prove me wrong once again.