It's been a rough little while. Repairs on the shower took quite some time, which made me feel frustrated and grody. The guy was supposed to show up at 10 on Saturday to finalize the work; he arrived at 1:35, about 5 minutes after I'd resolved to bus to the gym in order to have a shower. I'd have gone to the Smooshy's apartment, but he was working that day.

So my Saturday felt like a bit of a waste, even if I wouldn't have done anything much different even with a working shower (make sense of that). I had a bath later that afternoon, and things were better.

Sunday the Smooshy came over (he'd slept at his place the last few nights, the first due to severe crabbiness and insomnia, and the second due to the ingestion of smokable substances), and we shared a shower. As has to happen when two bodies occupy a small amount of valuable, hot water space, we had to change places. During this transaction, the Smooshy lost his footing and was about to go backwards over the edge of the tub, more than likely hitting the toilet in a very painful manner when he did so. I tried to catch him, and ended up being the one slipping and connecting with the floor of the tub in a fairly painful manner. My poor right knee.

This was the same knee I'd bruised a few days earlier in my sliding attempt to catch Thena before she got outside. She still succeeded, but didn't go far, probably due to the weather.

So I hobbled painfully around the apartment for a few minutes, then grabbed a bag of frozen broccoli and arranged that over my knee while I watched some television. The Smooshy later used the same bag in the preparation of dinner. My knee was more or less back to normal the next day, and I was able to run on it last night at the gym, but some of the other exercises I was doing put some strain on it that I could tell could get bad if I persisted.

The same day, I cut my hand on a knife while putting dishes in the dishwasher. Not a very deep cut, but enough to be annoying every time I put my hands in my pockets on Monday.

Yesterday at the gym, I managed to slice the web of my right hand between my thumb and index finger, which has its painful and difficult moments. I also came down with a migraine last night that persisted into this morning, so it made for a cranky and somewhat emotional morning (sometimes it makes me much less able to deal with things, and I can get driven to tears over absolutely nothing).

On the plus side, I bought some pillow cases to cross stitch for my cousin's wedding (two different sets of two, plus a pillow sham to be ribbon-embroidered, which I'll be saving for someone else, possibly the parents), and I managed to complete one of them on Saturday, and it looks quite nice. I've also mostly completed one smoker's glove (I have just to knit the flap and then sew in ends), and I'm working on the second, as well as working again on my project for R and N. So aside from the fact that I'm doing zilch in the way of school work or reading, that part of things is going well.

I'm stressing myself out over school, and this whole moving thing isn't helping much either, I don't think. The Smooshy and I are getting better about being able to talk rationally and non-defensively about household issues, but it has its bad times. I got my hydro bill for the last two months, and it was at its highest ever (more than double what my last one was), and given my little spending sprees last week, that wasn't exactly a shining moment for me. Add that to the fact that the Smooshy is much like me in terms of household maintenance and jumping up to do chores (i.e., both of us would rather spend our days fucking around and doing nothing instead of tidying up), and he gets defensive at times when I ask him to do things... and it's stressful. I'm thinking that drawing up a chore chart when we move out might be one idea... or cleaning up before I go to my cousin's wedding and seeing how things are when I return is another.

There's a possibility we might end up moving into a four-bedroom townhouse (although the three-bedroom is more likely), which would give us each a room to do with as we please. Of course, if he continues on as he does at his own apartment and leaves dishes in his room/office, I might just have to kill him. He knows this though, so it's not a big surprise.

Maybe we just need to each have our own pots and pans, and then I don't have to care as much if his are gone or have rice left in them or don't get soaked or whatever. *sigh* All of this has left me with a great deal of sympathy for what my mom has gone through for the last ten hundred years. I think it means I won't be a stay-at-home mom, if I ever get around to breeding. Heh.

Poor Smooshy... having to read all this rantyness. Poor the rest of you, too. What else can I mention? It's 41 days until my real manager returns, not that we're counting down anything. I'm hoping the weather clears up soon, so I can start riding the motorcycle again (I had another dream last night about people riding motorcycles around me... some of the others have involved me riding one). I'm a little over 2/3rds of the way through Gone With the Wind (the book, not the movie), and I'm enjoying it, though her complete and utter disregard/dislike for her kid is unusual... it almost feels like Margaret Mitchell kept forgetting she'd written him in, so has to mention him every now and again to remind us and herself that she hasn't killed him off yet. I might be curious to read the sequel after this, though I'm not sure how I feel about someone else writing a sequel to a classic book like this, even if I'm not sure how it ends just yet (and don't tell me!).

Otherwise, I'm tired of being stuffed up all the time, I want time to pass quickly, I want to do well on my paper (if I ever get around to writing the damn thing), and I want things to get better. I'm demanding.

Also, I want to be rich. I'm po'. :(