Kingfisher Cove

I Can Collapse Now

My God.

The insanity has finally ended (for the time being).  My final deadline this month has BEEN MET.  I have met eight deadlines in the past five weeks — most of which were truly horrendous — and I have worked 37 hours of overtime. That's unpaid overtime.  The company's philosophy is that it "all works out in the wash", but I doubt very much that I'll be allowed to take off 37 hours.  Maybe a couple of days, but not 37 hours or anything close to it.  That "wash" smells pretty sour to me. 

I'm beyond tired, beyond worn out, beyond...just, well, beyond.  I'd take tomorrow off but Annoying Coworker has the final draft of her final February deadline ready for me to QA/QC.  So JDub and I are trying to mesh our work calendars to see when we could have ourselves a four-day weekend and it's tough.  He's been hauling balls, too.  By the time his plate is relatively clear, I'll be facing another deadline.  We are hoping that we can take off a couple of days the week after next and tack them onto the weekend, but he's scheduled to work that weekend.  Grrrr.  He's going to see if he can make a trade with somebody.  Otherwise, it will be April before we can have some time away and by that time I have a hunch that the Nightmare That Has Been January/February will have been forgotten by those who tout the "working out in the wash" analogy.

And!  I do have an interview scheduled for the lead position.  (So I did make the cut after all).  Yeah, I'm relieved but also a wee bit disappointed!  (My bad).

Update:  Gas is now $3.44/gallon

Wow!

What a good book I just finished!  I don't believe I've ever been put through such tension as I was during the climatic ending of this story — I'm still sort of shaking it off.  It was, you know, a thriller/mystery (nothing over-the-top literary or anything), but it was certainly well-told.  I've read a few from this Jack Reacher series and they've all been good.  The character is sort of like a combination of MacGyver and Clint Eastwood in his quietly violent western roles.  A modern day gunslinger.  This book would make a great movie, almost noir.  I'm not sure who I'd cast in Reacher's role....he'd have to be tall and lanky and somewhat weathered.  Naturally a younger Clint Eastwood would have been perfect.  But from today's crop of actors, I'm not sure.  Possibly George Clooney.  (What is it about him?  He's come such a long way from his pre-"ER" days as the handy-man in that sitcom with Tootie and Blair — "Facts of Life"!  Thank goodness for Google!  Sure can't count on my memory...)  We watched "Michael Clayton" the other night and while it was very well-acted, I was pretty lost throughout much of the movie.  I hate when that happens.  Makes me feel stupid.  After it was over and JDub and I rehashed it, it came together better.  I was glad to see Tilda Swinton win the Oscar for best supporting actress.

This week is the peak of our crazy workload — I'm so burned out.  This Friday is a killer deadline, and then it appears I have somewhat of a breather, the first since the beginning of January.  More on the horizon, but out there a bit.  I might take a couple of days off next week, maybe next Thursday and Friday and have a nice 4-day weekend.  Maybe. 

I hear they are beginning interviews for the lead marketing coordinator position next week, but I haven't personally heard a word about it.  Makes me wonder if I didn't make the "cut".  Not sure, really, how I'd feel about that.  Part of me would quite honestly be relieved.

Do you know that less than two weeks ago I paid $3.07/gallon for gas, and today it is up to $3.42?  I'd like to rip somebody's head off.

PANIC!!!

Well yeah, I had to work, and even though it was singularly unpleasant, that wasn't the reason for my panic.  Nope.  The reason was because my Kindle stopped working!  It totally froze up while I was browsing the "Kindle Store" for a new book (because I'd just completed "T is for Trespass".)  It wouldn't even turn off!  It wouldn't budge.  I was distraught.  It's never done anything remotely like this before!  I'd sent in an email help request through Amazon but hadn't heard anything back from them, not even an automated confirmation — and while waiting for some response I tried to focus on work.  (Hard to do!)  I felt like I had this horribly heavy weight on my shoulders, also known as dread, and it kept slamming into my psyche just when I was immersed in my proposal.  I tried everything:  charging the battery (even though it already had a full charge), poking buttons, waiting and then checking it, turning it off and on (it wouldn't turn off!)  I mean everything! 

Finally I climbed back onto the Amazon website and found an obscure help feature where you provide them with your phone number and Amazon immediately calls you back.  I actually got a Real Live Person right away and she walked me through a series of steps — including having to hunt down a paperclip — (MacGyver?) in order to reset the thing.  It worked!  I was afraid that I'd lose all the books and samples and things I had on there, but I didn't.  I'm good to go again!  And I'm so very thankful that it wasn't something that couldn't be fixed.  I absolutely love that thing and it's been my salvation through the Nightmare That Has Been Work.  I've had it exactly two months as of today, and you would not believe the number of books I've read in that time.  It's become my appendage.

Naturally the weather has been absolutely beautiful this weekend, with JDub having to work (and me, too) — and so no Harstine.  Sigh.    

Jeesh.

Yup, it's felt exactly like this picture for the longest time.  And that's all I really want to say on the subject.  I'm tired of the subject!  (I'm tired, period.)

JDub has to work this weekend (and so do I, of course...) so we won't be heading to Harstine. That's OK, since I also have some major catching up on laundry to do and the kitchen needs a backhoe.  Drudgery.  Is that the bulk of life or what?  At least I have an awesome washer and dryer that make happy R2D2 sounds when their cycles are done.  And if I have to work on the weekend, I'm glad I have the opportunity to do so at home (and not have to drive to the office). 

In spite of everything, I do continue to read as often as I can.  I just finished this book and while it was absolutely excellent — written almost as well as a Richard Russo novel  — it was also very dark and brooding (and angry) which probably wasn't such a good idea this particular point in time.  And now I'm reading this book, which is also excellent but also very heavy-hearted.  I should go see the movie "Juno" this weekend.  I've heard that's totally sweet and uplifting.  I need something PERKY.

I had the oddest, most wacko thing happen today.  I was waiting to make a left turn from the parking lot onto the main road after eating lunch at my regular lunch restaurant.  There were three or four cars coming at slow speed (it's 25 mph through there) and I had to nose out a little bit to see because one of the retail businesses that share building space with the restaurant had one of those promotional sandwich-board signs on the sidewalk and it sort of blocked the view.  But when I say "nose out a bit", it wasn't into the road by any means.  I have to do that just about daily and nobody has ever had to veer or anything because the roadway is wide through there.  (Plus, I have a VW New Beetle that hardly has a nose a'tall!)  So I sat there and lit a cigarette, and suddenly I heard this laying-on-the-horn that seemed to go on forever and I wondered who the hell was honking.  Well!  It was the first car in that string I was waiting for, honking at ME!  It was this wild-dark-haired woman and she passed by me glaring through her passenger window as she bared her teeth at me and then stuck out her tongue, all the while laying on her horn!  I couldn't believe it.  (Yes!  She bared her teeth!  And stuck out her tongue!) 

Bona fide proof that I dwell inside the Twilight Zone.

Spoke Too Soon

I had my very first, honest-to-goodness physical anxiety attack today.  Remember that glimmer of optimism I felt yesterday?  Snuffed. Kaput.

                                           Yup, incoming.

A Pin-Prick of Light?

(Hmm.  What my mouse would look like if Mojo got ahold of it...)

Work is still horrendous, beyond belief.  But I am ever-so-faintly seeing a potential light at the end of that godawful tunnel. It might be an optical illusion (or wishful thinking), but today I felt an itsy bit better about things.  First, two huge deadlines exited stage left yesterday, and another huge one went out last Friday.  There are still several more on the near and far horizon, but at least we haven't had any more added to the workload in the last few days.  Seems for a while every single day they were piling up and approaching the daunting height of Mt. Rainier.  We still have a big hump (mountain) to get over scale, but it just might be do-able! Maybe?  If others do their part?  And if there is no more "incoming"?  (Hear those choppers hovering over the jungle?)

I can't believe how s-l-o-w the hiring process is for replacing Ms. Former Tongue Stud.  She gave her notice over two months ago and I had my "screening interview" over two weeks ago.  (Three weeks ago?)  And knowing their process, it'll be another three interviews to go.  So, maybe by April we'll have a third body?  And that's if they hire me for the position but select someone from the remainder of the candidates to take on the third coordinator position.  It wouldn't surprise me a bit that if they hire me, they'll start the process all over again for that third body.  Or... decide that it would be easier to just simply hire a new person to take Ms. Tongue Stud's place since I'm already that "third body."  How would I feel about that?  At this point, I wouldn't care.  I really wouldn't.  Oh, there might be a wounded moment or two, but ultimately there would be relief.  At this point.  Overall.  Maybe.  Depends.

(That's the Olympic mountain range, same as in the banner, but as you can see, we've had a lot of mountain snow this winter).

While our Saturday at Harstine never did break out the sunshine, our Sunday finally did, and it was lovely.  Actually, it was quite cold, though, at least up on the deck (so no sitting out there before a fire because our backsides would have frozen).  We did venture down to the beach and it was much more pleasant down there in the full-blown sun.  We encountered people with a good-sized dog and I realized that's been the first time that Mojo has encountered such a thing since he's made it his practice to always join us on our beach walks.  (What a cat).  Instead of freaking out, though, he just positioned himself cautiously. In fact, the dog never even saw him!  The people did, though, and they were blown away to see a cat on the beach, and especially when this older man approached him and Mojo just flopped down in the gravel and allowed him to approach (but not touch). He is so obviously in heaven there.  He didn't sleep much the entire weekend, spending as much time outside as he possibly could.  He did get squirted with the hose several times when he just couldn't help himself from bolting down to the bird habitat — which was bustling with feathered beasts and also chipmunks and squirrels! I would be so upset if he was successful in catching one of them, since we entice them to come with nummy good eats. It would feel sort of like setting a convenient bait trap for the killer-cat. I suppose it will happen at some point, but we will do our best to prevent it.  Cats can be trained about some things, I think.  But jeeze.  Can Mojo with his uber-hunting instincts?

Hey, I had the camping trailer door open for a while and a hummingbird hovered in front of it and peered in at me!  It's February!  A hummingbird?  I was amazed!  So I prepared some sugar-water and filled up the feeder — which broke, and all that red-dyed sugar-water splashed out of it.  I was so bummed.  Time for a new feeder...    

A Killing Machine

So tell me.  Could this possibly be the face of Manson a vicious killer?

If you are unfortunate enough to be a mouse or a bird, this face is most definitely your worst nightmare the last earthly thing you'll ever see.  (Those eyes do look rather possessed....)

The hose is ready for action and Mojo says, "I dare you."  (Actually, he was peering at a bird flying by.  So basically he was "flipping the bird" at the hose).

We're still waiting for that promised sun to come out.  JDub's gone into town to fill up a propane tank — it's so quiet around here!  I filled up the bird feeders but they're being scarce. Don't even hear them tweeting in the trees. I reckon they know something.  (That Manson is in their midst...)

So get this:  Tonight we are having lobster, possibly grilled on the barby.  I was lame and hadn't gotten JDub anything for Valentine's Day, even though he got me a beautiful orchid, a beautiful card, and a giant bag of bird seed.  But I DID pick up two very nice lobster tails and so I suspect that will do!  We opted to wait to have them here instead of Valentine's night, which was just another zombie work-night after all.

~~~~~~~~~~

Update:  Nom nom nom nom nom nom nom nom nom...

Taking a Powder

I know I shouldn't, and I'll likely kick myself come Sunday night, but I'm taking a break from the madness this weekend.  There comes a time when you just gotta put your foot down.  For sanity's sake.  The weather forecasters are all saying it's going to be a beautiful and sunny weekend, so here we are at Harstine Island!  Woot!  I did not bring my memory stick full of work to do, and I am not feeling an ounce of guilt about it.  If the guilt bug attempts to land on my shoulder, I will shout "BITE ME!" 

So there.

Tonight it is cold here in the camping trailer.  It's taking a long time for the heaters to ratchet up the temperature.  The little electric heater we leave in the bathroom (turned on low when we're gone) had tripped off from a power outage and the main built-in heater just kept it warm enough to prevent freezing (and there have been some extremely cold days and nights since we've been here).  Speaking of that, it's been quite a while.  At least a month, maybe even five weeks.  It seems like forever ago.  Mojo didn't miss a beat!  He was totally relaxed in my arms as I carried him down to the Durango, and he slept, cuddled, or sucked on Bailey during the drive.  Once we arrived, he disappeared into the dark wilds for a bit, but then dashed inside and up on the counter in one fluid motion where his food dish is kept (to keep the dogs out of it) and it was obvious he was right at home because he then hopped up on the bed where he's been napping ever since.

He's probably exhausted from all the mayhem he has wreaked this week.  It's been at least one massacred mouse a day and generally two or more (in all their dismembered glory with body parts scattered hither and yon) and yesterday he caught his first bird.  (I wasn't there; I heard the disgusting details from my son).  Of course he had to bring it inside the house through the pet door (as he does with all his victims), and of course it wasn't quite dead and so poor Nate had to wrestle it away from him and put it out of its misery.  He also witnessed Mojo catch and kill a mouse that had gotten loose inside and he said it was just godawful!  "He bit its face off, Mom!  While the poor thing was alive!  He bit its face off!  He's Manson!"  It's so hard to look at this sweet and purring black and white kitty who loves to be held and cuddled and scratched under the chin and realize that he is a mouse or a bird's worst nightmare.  I guess most cats are, but his body-count is astronomical when you consider that he's only nine months old. First thing we'll do in the morning is place the hose on the deck so that when Mojo ventures down to the bird habitat (which he will), we can squirt blast him.

Panic Mode

It just continues.

I have never experienced such incredible stress.  Annoying Coworker and I are beyond slammed.  I don't know how we're going to handle this!  Heavy workload?  This is like cramming for Finals 24/7, day after day after day after day.  Every single godamned day in February is a Final exam.  Into March. 

The book I'm reading (in bits and pieces during Sanity Breaks) has this line that certainly hit home for me:  "My favorite passage from Ernest Hemingway will always remain his suggestion in Death in the Afternoon that the world's ills could be corrected by a three-day open season on people."  I am so there.  I'm so totally, 100% there.

I wish I could come up with something a little humorous after that to let you know for sure that "everything's really fine!"  But I can't.  Not today.  And probably not tomorrow.

When Feeling Stressed: Do Something Fun!

After I zipped up my work laptop today (which was after I'd finished Duma Key just because I couldn't NOT finish it before sinking into the drudgery of work — and it was one of Stephen King's best by the way), I stuck a nice roast in the oven.  I've tried this method of cooking a roast several times — a method that my mother and others always said was absolutely fool-proof and you'd get a perfect medium-rare roast every time — but mine would end up cremated.  Every G&%#$!D+*&%@! time.  Well (slap upside the head), I finally figured out that my oven thermostat was hosed and could not be trusted.  We recently got a new oven and so I considered attempting this roast as a test.  Results?  Passed with flying colors!  I didn't think to take a picture (slap upside the head again) and it's a shame because it turned out real purdy.  But here is that magical (and strange) method:

Roast Beef

4 lb (2 kg) eye of round roast

2 tbsp (30 mL) Dijon mustard

2 cloves garlic, squished

1 tbsp (15 mL) coarse salt

1 tbsp (15 mL) coarsely ground or cracked black pepper

1 tsp (5 mL) chopped fresh rosemary (or slightly less dried)

In a small bowl, stir together the mustard and garlic. With a basting brush, coat the meat on all sides, using all of the mustard mixture. In another small bowl, mix together the salt, pepper and rosemary. Sprinkle evenly all over the meat.

Lightly grease a 9 x 13 in. (23 x 33 cm) baking dish (or "Pam" it). Place the roast in the pan — if it has a thin end, tuck it underneath to give the meat a blocky shape.

Preheat the oven to 500°F (260°C). Place the roast in the oven, close the door and immediately turn the oven temperature down to 475°F (245°C). Roast for exactly 7 minutes per pound — for the 4 lb (2 kg) roast, you’ll need 28 minutes.  (If your meat is slightly bigger or smaller, simply increase or decrease roasting time accordingly.) [My roast was just 2 lbs. so I cooked it for 14 minutes].

Now turn the oven off. And go away. Do not open the door for 2½ hours. [Really!  This is the secret!  And it works!  As long as your oven thermostat is accurate...]

At the end of 2½ hours, the roast will be perfectly done, and juices will have accumulated in the bottom of the baking pan. Remove the meat, slice thinly to serve. Reheat the pan juices and serve with the roast.

Mmmmmm, good!  We have leftover roast, though.  Anybody have any good ideas or recipes with what to do with leftover roast?  (Aside from stew, which I hate!)

~~~~~~~~~~

So after dinner was cleaned up, I decided to make some more soap.  This is actually pretty ridiculous because I have a whole bunch of leftover soap from when Helen and I made it right after Thanksgiving (yes, after giving some away as Christmas presents) so I really don't need any more.  But I was in the mood, plus JDub had given me some new soap molds for Christmas that I hadn't tried yet.  I'd also gotten myself a 3D mold that I wanted to play with.  I'm really very pleased with how everything turned out!

I find that I like these colors the best — I've made a lot of seafoamy green and peachy stuff.  I also like the clear glycerin style of soap the best, too, even though I do like the solids and shea butter.  But the clear lets the light through and it seems cheerful.  I need that right now.

Here are the two 3D soaps I made with the dragon fly and cattail mold:

I'm especially pleased with these!  For the peachy-colored soaps I used a mango scent, and the green soaps are "Green Tea"!  JDub could smell them while I was cooking them up from all the way down in the garage, wondering if his container of car oil had suddenly gotten all frou-frou-fragrant on him.