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Creativity Handbook

Creativity Handbook: JLP’s Journal for a Creative Life. Find your Creative Personality Type, Daily Inspiration, Storytelling, Filmmaking and More

no break in sight

I'm sick again. I caught Lucy's wicked coughing cold. This will be the fourth illness I've contracted during the five months she's been alive. Add to that the major surgery I had for her birth, and I'd say it's been rough to get back to a normal level of immunity, energy or well-being. It doesn't seem to ever let up. Of course she had to pick last night to have her first spell of middle-of-the-night-wakefulness between 4am and about 5:30. Friday night I had a migraine, Saturday I had the migraine hang-over and could feel the cold beginning, so all that put a slight damper on the weekend for me. But we saw Times Square, got a little scoop on the Mary Poppins Broadway play we want to take Amelia to see, went to a tourist-y spot we really wanted to see, got some of our furniture ordered from IKEA and got local cell phones.

The IKEA thing has been a pain. I told Justin yesterday as we hiked from Hicksvilles' Broadway mall to the Long Island Rail Road station with packages hanging everywhere, "Neither of our mothers would even believe the lengths we've been willing to go to in order to shop at that store." If they had been there, they would have found their suspicions that we're both a little crazy solidly confirmed. Three items we wanted were out of stock, and Justin talked me out of settling for three things I didn't want and now we need to watch for them to come in and do it all again. (I forgot to mention that Saturday we tried catching a free bus from Manhattan's Port Authority to the Elizabeth, NJ, IKEA, which is actually much closer geographically. The whole thing tanked, and we had to come up with a Plan B and hit the Long Island store on Sunday. Ay yi yi.)

This morning the repair guy is supposedly coming to scrape the paint out of the electrical outlets they painted over, fix our kitchen cabinet door that threatens to fall off the newly-installed cabinets, and if I'm lucky, re-affix the soap dish that came crashing down from the tiled shower wall the other day. There's a hole now where the wall is exposed, revealing where they used some loamy, pasty thing to hang it. Apparently it dissolves when wet. But he's an hour late now, so I'm not sure he's coming, after all. Then the furniture is getting delivered during a four hour window that will keep us home all morning. One thing we're getting is a wood frame for our bed (headboard, foot board, the whole works--after only eight years of marriage). It's currently on a metal frame with wheels, which is handy when I decide to rearrange the room by myself. It's not so handy when you sit on the bed and lean back on the wall behind you, or sit on either side with any force of velocity, both of which resort in a fast ride down the hill that is our bedroom floor. But at least I'm not experiencing culture shock or anything like that.

UncategorizedJen Lee