Thursday, October 30, 2014

The Ride Up: Elevator Woes {A What Would You Do Post}

Warning: This post will most definitely include ranting and most likely cursing. Proceed as you will.

It was another day grabbing lunch at the hospital.

I had good intentions, of course, of packing food today but time got away. One moment, it was 7:10 a.m. and I was taking a bath with Hulk, Iron Man and Miles and the next moment it was 8:30. A shot of adrenaline shoots straight from my brain to my ass to get it moving. I had a midwife appointment at 9:15 clear on the other side of two but they like to tell you it's 15 minutes earlier in reminders. So, I think I have a half-hour to get Miles in the car, drive to daycare, get Miles into daycare, kiss him goodbye and drive a half-hour to the office. It's not going to happen, I know, but I can do my best to be only a little bit late. However, Miles doesn't get the memo about "we need to go now" and is asking what he can take to daycare. A sword? A pumpkin? A cuddly. Kid, just get in the damn car. We need to go.

And, so, yeah, I didn't pack my lunch.

Just after noon, my work husband and I head to get lunch. We walk less than two blocks into the hospital, maneuver through the small ER and take the elevator to the basement. We navigate the crowd of people, select the best of the worst and begin to make our way back.

On the elevator.

We follow a small throng of female workers into the small space. "Six!" "Four, please." "What floor do you need?"

"One," we tell her.

And that's when it happened. The "it" that has me feeling stabby and defensive and all "I need to blog about this for validation."

A woman in the back corner, wearing dark blue scrubs and carrying a Styrofoam container, spoke up. "You could have probably taken the stairs for one."

"Yeah, I could have," I tell her.

"You know, you probably should have," she tells my work husband and me.

Uh, excuse me. I know what I should and should not do – not you. So why don't you hold yourself together and shut the front door?

Now, I will say that taking the stairs is a nice idea. I do it – sometimes. Other times, I don't really feel like it. I want to hold my food and stand in one place while a machine moves me to another place. It's easier, definitely, and in terms of proximity to exits, the elevator is more convenient.

Plus, I really fucking hate climbing steps. I know, I know. I have no problem running 5 miles – I even like doing it – but walking steps makes me tired.

I had no idea how to react to the woman. I felt agitated and defensive. How dare she judge me for my choices? So I said the most ridiculous thing in the most ostentatious voice I could summon.

"Well, I got up at 5 a.m. and ran 5 miles."

And then I walked out.

Tell me: What would you have done? And if you tell me take the stairs, I will ... umm ... not share my flank steak that was surprisingly delicious.

Day in the Life, v. 3.0

I've seen a lot of day in the life posts lately and given that my days are less than riveting, I thought it would make a great blog entry. Or at least a way for you to pass time as you wait for a call at work.

5:55 a.m. I hear Miles get out of his sleeping bag that's on the floor of our room but pretend not to. I lie there in the dark hoping that he can hang out with Mark, who just got out of the shower.

"Mom! Where are you?"

I guess I'll get up.

6:10 a.m. I make breakfast for the crew. Scrambled eggs and cheese for everyone plus a waffle for Miles and hash browns for Mark.

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6:40 a.m. Sit on the couch with my laptop and a cup of coffee. I turn on "House Hunters" on Netflix while Miles plays upstairs and Mark gets ready for work. I get irrationally angry at the people on the show but keep watching – because I can.

6:45 a.m. "Mom! I said I wanted to watch 'Power Rangers.' Please!" I guess I am done with looking for a $700,000 house in Westchester.

7:10 a.m Head up to shower. As I wait for my thick mane to get soaked, I decide to multitask and brush my teeth. I got a new toothbrush as part of my Haunted Hilly Half swag and I like it. Thank goodness for dentist sponsors.

7:30 a.m. Get out of said shower and call up Miles to get dressed. He decides he wants to do a puzzle so I decide that I should put away laundry.

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7:50 a.m. Pack my lunch and snacks for work and my Apera gym bag. I also microwave a spaghetti squash that will go in one of those bags. Can you guess which? I also pick off Miles' breakfast plate knowing I'll be at the gym when I normally have a snack. Or, I do it out of boredom.

8:00 to 8:25 a.m. The mad rush to get out the door, which includes getting socks and shoes on Miles, bringing in the dog and making a bottle of Nuun. At the last minute, I decide to throw in a load of laundry on delay start to which I get the following comment: "Mom, why did you do that? I am so frustrated that you did that. You messed up all the clothes."

8:28 a.m. "I need you to carry this. It's too heavy," Miles says, thrusting a stuffed tiger into my hands as we walk out the door. Unphased, I throw the tiger under my arm and shuffle to the car.

8:35 to 8:50 a.m. Drop off Miles at daycare and head to the YMCA.

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8:50 a.m. Hop on the stair climber for a 45-minute workout. It's my first time on the machine, and I'm only doing it because Mark did it two days before. I start with 10 minutes at an easy pace and then do 2:1 intervals for 15 minutes; 5 minutes easy; and then a second round of 2:1 intervals for 15 minutes. My legs burn and sweat pours off of  me. I curse myself for only bringing one bottle of Nuun.

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9:40 a.m. Head to the locker room and get ready for work. It feels like I have plenty of time so I try to curl my hair with the flat iron and put on makeup. When I'm done, I decidedly look like more of a hot mess than put together.

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10:05 a.m. Get to work, and I am so hungry that I bypass saying hi to friends in other departments to eat a snack at my desk. Mix together orange yogurt and pumpkin. Shovel, swallow, repeat.

Noon. My belly starts to grumble, and I start thinking about lunch. I realize that I forgot cheese for the vegetarian chili I brought (thanks, Kim!) and what is chili without cheese. Actually, what is anything without cheese? I head to the hospital that's located across the street from the office to hit up the cafeteria. I luck out that it's taco salad day, and I not only get cheese but black olives, pickled jalapenos and sour cream. Plus, a side salad.

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12:30 p.m. Return to work and eat through lunch. I have chili with spaghetti squash and all of the toppings.

1:30 p.m. Take an actual break to get my Halloween costume as there is a contest at work. I am going as Alex from "Orange Is The New Black" and need scrubs. I was going to head to a uniform store but my friend suggests Goodwill. Score! I find what I need and spend less than $10. With my savings, I stop at Starbucks for a steamer on the way back to work.

6 p.m. Dart out of work. Mark has parent-teacher conferences, and I am sure Denali is crossing his paws and scooting his butt after being home all day. I let out Denali and feed him before heading to my in-laws for dinner.

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6:15 p.m. Ah. A hot meal is waiting for me and I didn't have to do a thing. We eat at my in-laws' house every Wednesday but this week they also did me the favor of picking up Miles from daycare. We eat and chat, and I'm happy that Miles eats consumes two meatballs and broccoli without fuss.

7 p.m. Head home but not without stopping at CVS first. I need liquid eyeliner and temporary tattoos for my costume but alas, nada. Rather, they had Halloween candy marked down and were stocking shelves with CHRISTMAS CANDY. Peppermint bark, people! I snag three bags of clearance candy (Reese cups, pretzel M&Ms and M&Ms) as a treat for Mark. Yes, Mark.

7:20 p.m. I agree to let Miles play "for just a few minutes" so I can get my gear ready for tomorrow's run. A new pair of shoes had just arrived from Amazon, and I am testing out the You Saw Me vest. (Go like them on Facebook and tell them I sent you!) The 5:15 a.m. run date with Tami will be the perfect opportunity to wear it.

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7:30 p.m. Give Miles a bath. He insists on taking a sword into the tub and having it "big" – aka a lot of water. We finish up as Mark gets home. I get Miles in jammies and hand him off to Mark for snacks and reading.

8 p.m. Just as I turn on "Survivor," I hear a voice from upstairs. "Mom. MOM! Can I go in my fweeping bag?"

Miles is allowed to camp on our floor in a sleeping bag though it's usually a middle-of-the-night occurrence. I tell him 5 minutes so I can watch the intro to the show.

8:15 p.m. Head upstairs to get Miles settled during a commercial break. I agree to let him in the sleeping bag if he stays quiet and head downstairs. I revel that this check is all it takes as not too long ago we were on the front lines of the bedtime war, which ended up with more than one party in tears.

9 p.m. "Survivor" is over, and I head to bed. It's a rare night that I stay up past 9:30 and with a 4:45 a.m. alarm the next day, I need my rest to at least pass as a functioning human at work. I'm out by 9:20.

10:40 p.m. Bathroom wake-up No. 1. I get up at least twice, if not three times. I've gotten past the annoyance stage and have moved onto acceptance. I do what I do and fall back asleep quickly.

What do your days look like?