Administrative Rigmarole

It's been hard for the Trojan Woman to come up with anything to top that last post; consequently it's been over six months since anything's been posted. The school year is beginning to wind down again, and spring is getting closer all the time (I know the calendar said it started on March 20, but Mother Nature is running her own calendar). This time of year is when a health educator concentrates on end of year reports, on justifying the effectiveness of her programs, and on hiring good staff and volunteers for next year. It seems so very administrative. The Trojan Woman has gotten to do a couple presentations this week, though, to break out of the administrative mold of recent days. Yesterday, the hosting instructor even brought a couple viles of pubic lice (yes, you read that right) to supplement my presentation on sexually transmitted infections. Not many people can say that's all in a day's work.

Car Troubles

My stress levels reached a height they hadn't seen recently last weekend. It was a classic example of a weekend when absolutely nothing goes smoothly. I was meeting a friend Friday night for dinner. I parked next to the religious building that shares the parking lot with his apartment building. I met him at his apartment, and he suggested I move my car because there was a religious service scheduled that night and they might need all the spaces. When I go back down to the parking lot to move my car, it won't start. The battery will operate the lights, radio, windows, etc., but the engine makes no attempt to turn over. My friend seems pretty confident that the religious service started at 7:00pm. Since it's now 7:30pm and there are still empty spaces, I suggest we go ahead and get dinner and then deal with the car when we get back. Dinner was yummy, perhaps the only thing that went right this particular evening. We got back to my car a little after 9:00, and it still won't start. We try to jump it off in case the battery is low, but it's an unsuccessful attempt. I call my dad, source of all knowledge, but he's unable to help me over the phone, 400 miles away. I try to call My Mechanic, also hundreds of miles away, but I just get his voicemail. By 10:00pm, we've given up. I know nothing is open that time of night, so I decide to just deal with the car in the morning. My friend dropped off at my house and I collapsed into bed, unable to do anything to fix any of my problems.

Saturday morning rolls around, and I talk to my friend about 9:00am. I ask him to come pick me up and take me back to the parking lot where I can wait for a tow truck. He agrees to come as soon as he finishes responding to a couple emails. In the meantime, I call AAA to request towing. They should be there within an hour, I'm told. My friend picks me up at 9:45, asking me where I had my car taken. I look at him blankly, hoping he's kidding but at the same time thinking it's not funny at all. He tells me my car is not where we left it. At that moment, AAA calls back to say the tow truck will be there within 20 minutes. I tell the operator that I no longer know where my car is. She cancels my request and says to call back once I've located it if I still need assistance. We return to the parking lot at 10:00am and see that my car is, in fact, MIA. (Or maybe that should be "missing in inaction" since it wasn't working.) We try to call his landlord but get no response. I call the religious building. The secretary says it may have been towed and gives me the name of a tow company to call. Ironically, it's the same company that AAA had planned to send to my rescue. I call them, but they don't have it. They give me another company to try. I call them, and they do have my car. I can come to get it anytime before 4:00pm.

My friend always swims on Saturday mornings with a club, so I urge him to go ahead and go, and we'll get my car afterwards. I hate feeling like I'm interfering with his weekend. While he's gone, I call my dad, a friend, and AAA again. The AAA operator is very confused, so I have to explain what has happened. All she can say is, "Oh wow. Wow." I know the feeling.

When he returns from his swim, I've had time to collect myself and am in a much better mood. We eat a quick lunch at the apartment before going to the impound lot. First, though, I have to go by an ATM because the tow company only takes cash. We pull up to my bank, and a maintenance man is starting up a ladder in front of the ATM to work on one of the building's flood lights.

"Excuse me," I say. "Do you mind if I use the ATM really quick? It will just take me a second."

"No, I'm working. Come back in an hour," he tells me. Jerk.

So we go to another branch office where we're able, after what seems like forever, to finally get some cash. Then it's on to the impound lot. On the way, AAA calls again to say the tow truck is in route. The tow truck sent by AAA calls to ask if I'm going to owe the impound lot anything to release the car. I tell them I'm on my way to pay for that and will see them shortly.

We get to the impound lot a little after 1:00pm. The tow truck driver from the AAA company is waiting for me and talking with the driver from the impound lot who had originally moved my car. It costs me $85 to release my car from car jail ($60 for the tow, $10 for the labor, and $15 for the storage, according to my receipt). The AAA driver goes to get my car while the impound driver asks why we didn't just use them. I explain the situation and find out from this driver that they picked up my car at 9:30am. I missed them by half an hour. Stink.

The AAA driver takes my car to my regular service center because everything in town is closed by 1:00pm. We leave a note for the service manager, and this second driver now wants to know what had happened. I tell him, and he just shakes his head. Once again, I know the feeling. My AAA coverage only gives me 3 miles of free towing, so I owe him $7.50. I tell him he's a bargain compared to the first towing bill of my day. He wishes me a better weekend, and goes back to his home base.

My friend takes me home again, as he has plans for mucho studying that afternoon and evening. I'm bored out of my mind at the house and going stir crazy. What can a girl do, though? I talk on the phone to several friends, retelling my sad story and getting lots of sympathy. By the end of the night, all the stress has added up, and I have a huge headache. I go to bed by 10:00pm to try to rest.

On Sunday morning, I feel like my day is going to go better. For the most part, it does. I had hoped to go to another church that night to hear a friend preach, but since I didn't have my car, I didn't have a way to get there. I finally talked to My Mechanic that afternoon. He tells me about all the things he could have done to help me out had he been there. I guess it's the thought that counts. One of my friends from church picked me up later in the afternoon to take me to its evening service.

Monday morning rolled around, and one of my coworkers picked me up to bring me to the office. I called the service center a couple times and eventually learned that an anti-theft computer code in my car had shut down the ignition. They had reset the code and the car was ready to go. Finally some good news! I had prepared myself to pay to have the starter replaced, but now I was only going to owe $70 in diagnostic fees rather than hundreds of dollars in parts and labor. Suddenly, I felt rich.

My car has been running fine ever since. The work week has been a piece of cake compared to the weekend. I am thankful for legs I can walk on, bicycles I can ride (and gracefully crash on), and friends who will pick me up and transport me places.

Grace (or lack thereof)

A few days ago, the state finally broke its streak of 90-degree days. The weekend was beautiful, and I was enjoying being outside again. The Trojan Woman and a friend decided it was a great day for a bike ride to get some ice cream. A new ice cream place had just opened up a couple miles down the road, so we set off for a leisurely ride. Traffic was a little heavier than I would have liked, but we made it safely and very much enjoyed our ice cream. By this time, I'm feeling all confident on my bike (it's got skinny wheels and it's about 30 years old, each of which make me a little nervous). We cross a diagonal railroad track and my front tire gets caught between the rail and the pavement. BAM- I go down hard, skidding a little on my face across the ashpault. It actually felt a little like slow-motion, though. I knew I was going down. I had time to think to myself, "Oh no. I'm falling over, and I'm not going to be able to recover." I tried to put out my arm to catch myself, but the slow motion moment had me moving too slowly and I hit the ground with my hand pinned under my body. Feeling slightly battered, I picked up the bike quickly and tried to regain my composure. To his credit, the friend didn't laugh at me. I almost wished he would have, though, as I would have felt less like an idiot. I was certainly laughing at myself. I also feel pretty certain that if he had fallen, I would have laughed. Of course, then I would have checked to make sure he was okay, and afterwards, I would have continued to laugh. But no, not him. Maybe the fall looked worse than it actually was, but he was genuinely concerned about me and saw no humor in the situation. Further kicking dirt on my pride, a car had come up behind us. The driver very carefully pulled up next to me and asked if I was okay. I appreciate the sentiment, but seriously, it just embarrassed me more.

Now it's been 10 days since the accident. I still bear the battle scars of bruised and scraped kneees, and I feel the occasional twinge of soreness in my hand. But overall, I have healed well, and my pride has recovered. My parents are coming for a visit this next weekend. Perhaps I'll even take them for ice cream, too, and revisit the spot of my graceful disaster. Perhaps we'll drive.

Being Sick Stinks

Is it especially bad for a health educator to get sick? The sniffles began Sunday night, followed by a full day yesterday of sneezing and watery eyes. I definitely prefer sneezing to having congestion that makes it hard to breathe, but it's still no picnic. I have a presentation to deliver this afternoon and another to attend this evening. Fortunately, neither of them have anything to do with cold and flu prevention. If they did, I think my credibility would be shot. Bring on the vitamin C supplements and fruit juices!

Frozen...literally

No kidding, my hair actually froze on my head this morning on the walk from my car to the office building. Apparently that's what happens when you don't dry your hair after your morning shower and the air temp is -6 with a -16 windchill. My grandmother always warned me that going out with my hair wet would give me pneumonia, but she never told me that it might actually lead to icicle formation on my scalp! I suppose I should feel fortunate that none of my hair broke off while I was removing my coat, scarf, and ear muffs....

"Candy is dandy, but sex won't rot your teeth."

The title of my post today is a quote I read in a campus newspaper article this morning. It's my new quote of the day. Not that I have a quote to share every day, but I have used this one multiple times today already.

In addition to reading funny quotes, I also had some fun practicing my assertiveness this afternoon. Some crazy kids decided they would attempt stealing a bunch of condoms from the office while our staff was at lunch. Unfortunately for them, I hadn't left my office yet. We provide up to five condoms for free, but I observed these folks dumping the whole container into a clear plastic bag as I walked out of my office towards the lobby. Note to thieves- use of clear plastic bags is not the best way to keep your operations covert. I politely informed them that the limit was five, and they politely replaced the condoms. Exercising the Trojan Woman's assertive side felt good.

Run, Boys, Run!

As I continue to semi-train for my mini-marathon this spring, I've had to move indoors to the elevated track in the school's old gym. I'm too finicky a runner to go outside when it's 20 degrees and overcast, so, while running in circles for an hour is not enticing, it beats the alternative. I've discovered I can manage the endless circles as long as I don't try to keep track of how many times I've run around. I now just watch the clock and run for a set amount of time rather than distance.

I decided on Monday night that I would try to get a long run in. In my world right now, a long run equals an hour. For the first half hour, I had the benefit of a middle school basketball game going on on the court beneath me, which gave me lots of distractions. I actually almost ran into the exercise equipment set up in the corners of the track a couple of times because I was so focused on watching the game below. But once the game ended, I feared I would have a hard time occupying my mind enough to keep from counting laps for the next half hour.

Fortunately, I was in for a treat. A couple of male students entered the track not too long after the game ended and did some warming up on the eliptical machines. Then they took off on a jog around the track. As I continued my running, I began gaining on them and started thinking in my mind whether it would be easier to pass them on the left or the right. About that same time, one of them looked back and noticed that I was getting close. He said something to his friend, and they sped up just a bit. For about 20 yards, we ran at the same pace, but then they slowed down again. I once more approached and got ready to pass them. For a second time, they sped up. It didn't take me long to realize what was going on. Each time I got closer, they would speed up to keep me from lapping them. They tried to be very secretive in looking over their shoulders to check my progress, but I was onto their game. So I decided to mess with them a little bit, too. The next time they sped up, I sped up with them. They sped up again, and I sped up again. This happened a third time, and then they took off sprinting. I let them sprint the rest of the way, and they stopped at the end of the lap. Smiling to myself, I finally passed them and continued to finish my hour long run.

If you're curious, I covered about seven miles in that hour, which would amount to 84 laps. Now you see why I don't need to be counting.