Something's gotta give

I'm really in a quandry. My apartment is a complete disaster area. I have been trying to get it cleaned, although I can only work for about 10 or 15 minutes before I'm completely wiped out and have to rest. I did finally work out a system where I work as long as I can and then set the timer on the microwave for 10 minutes. That's usually enough rest time, but having the timer go forces me to get back up to turn it off so I get back to working rather than getting involved in something on the computer or knitting.

The trouble is that there's a lot of stuff that needs to be thrown away. Much of it should probably be recycled, but that's even harder to manage. The problem is that in order to get to the dumpster, I have to climb stairs and I can't climb the stairs with things in my hands. I have to hold on to the railing or I'm likely to fall. I'm seriously afraid to even attempt to go up the stairs without holding on.

I've asked Jim to do it and he says that I just need to put it near the door, but then he doesn't think about it when he comes home. He's been working so much -- he leaves home at 4:30am and hasn't come home until nearly 8:00pm every day for the past week -- that I don't want to nag him about it. He takes care of the regular day-to-day garbage without being asked, probably because it gets to the point where he doesn't have any place to put his coffee grounds in the morning.

It's getting to the point of being like those overly-cluttered places that you see on the news or in movies with crazy old people. I've never been like my mom whose house is almost scarily clean, but it's getting to me now. I'm starting to get depressed. Claustrophobic. And I can't forget even for a minute that the days when I was able to do just about everything on my own are gone, probably forever. Coming to terms with my own limitations is really hard.

No matter what I do, I'm afraid I'm going to hurt Jim. Nagging him hurts him. If I do it on my own, or at least try to, he'll feel guilty for not doing it. I could, I suppose, find a "handyman" sort of person and pay him to come in and do it, but that would make Jim feel bad, too. Above all, the last thing in the world I want to do is to make Jim feel bad in any way. He has been so good to me and he works so hard that the thought of adding any more of a burden to him of any kind is unacceptable.

So I'm pretty much between a rock and a hard place. Good thing he doesn't read my blog. :-)

The Quadrennial Bicker

There's a reason that I only had one child. It wasn't that it just happened that way. I planned it. The reason was that I remembered growing up with my brother and the near-constant bickering between us. At the time, it was annoying, even though I was part of it. In retrospect, I realized how it must have driven my mother near the edge. I didn't want to deal with the same thing with my own kids, so I guaranteed that I wouldn't have to. An only child has no one to bicker with.

This morning as I was watching the "Today Show" on television, I was reminded of that decision. There were the two men who want to lead the most powerful country in the world, bickering like children. "He said such and such." "No I didn't. You're the one who said something bad." "No I didn't." Blah, blah, blah. Bicker, bicker, bicker. I turned off the television.

In every election since I've been old enough to vote, it's been the same sort of thing. Every time I start out favoring one candidate over the other, but by the time the election actually rolls around, I'm so sick of both of them that it's hard for me to cast a vote at all. I end up voting for the one who has annoyed me slightly less than the other. A couple of times I was so fed up that I just didn't vote.

I had hopes this time, naive as I am. McCain pledged to keep to the "high road" during the campaign and Obama said the same thing. From what I see, McCain started down the low road first, but now Obama has followed him down and I have no respect left for either one.

Oh, I'll vote for Obama. There's no question. But unless he manages to pull himself up out of the muck, I'll have to hold my nose to do it.

And I think both of them need to sit in the corner for a while and be sent to bed without their supper.

A tricked out name tag

I was watching the noon news and saw, for the umpteenth time, a commercial for an insurance company which says they compare their prices to those of other insurance companies. They show an example of what someone saved, with more than two hundred dollars between the price from the advertiser's company and the nearest competitor. The woman on the ad says "That's a new pair of shoes." A new pair of *shoes*? Actual human beings pay more than two hundred bucks for a pair of friggin' shoes? I know, I know. I'm not your average fashion plate, but paying that kind of money for anything that you wear just to impress other people is, well, stupid. And, frankly, obscene.