So, what's new with me? What? Nobody asked? Don't care. I'm going to tell you anyway.
I have an awesome part time job writing for a fantastic SEO Company full of terribly nice people. Among other things, I write a blog about Richmond that talks about the best of the city and highlights certain things and people and places. It's www.richmondvapresents.com and I would love it if you'd visit it let me know what you think. Also, if you're a Richmonder and have a business or thing (not THAT thing, you perv) you'd like me to write about, I'll consider it. :)
I am in graduate school and beating my head against a wall for taking three (3) THREE literature-intensive classes this semester. The reading alone is enough to blind you, and on top of that you're expected to be able to form cohesive thoughts and scholarly opinions about things. Don't let me fool you - I love it, but I'm totally overwhelmed and freaking out.
Those are the two main things going on in my life other than The Hubs, The Rents, The Cat, The Dog, and The House, which are all doing pretty good and say hi, Internet.
Off to the weekend, which will not feel like a weekend at all because I have to do a ton of work and write a paper, prepare a presentation, and read practically everything Oscar Wilde ever wrote. But it will be fun, so who needs a weekend?
Showing posts with label Work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Work. Show all posts
Friday, September 11, 2009
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Stream of consciousness
Random thoughts:
getting a little piece of garlic stuck in your tooth and working it out with your tongue is much like taking some sort of garlic breath infuser treatment. You've got to work really hard to undo that.
That Fitzgerald quote, "In the real dark night of the soul it is always three o'clock in the morning, day after day" takes on a whole new meaning when you're awake at three o'clock in the morning.
I did not win the lottery again today. Honestly, a poor girl's heart can only stand but so much.
Since my time at Bankrupt Inc. is coming to a close, I have put myself out on the proverbial market. Rather than worrying about the normal things one worries about when trying to secure gainful employment (ie. resume, skills, etc.), I am concerned about the following, because it's every so much more productive to worry about trivial stuff that doesn't matter.
I am not, repeat, am NOT, high maintenance enough to get regular pedicures. However, you might notice that my toenails are perfect. It's a bonding activity with me and my mom, and we go every two weeks if we can afford it. There are currently flowers on my toes because the girl at the shop asked me so very nicely if I wanted flowers, and I couldn't say no. Because I am a pedicure pushover. And, I'm wearing open-toed shoes because it's summer, and I hope that is appropriate. Because my only closed-toed shoes right now are sneakers and Doc Martens. And for some reason I thought red Chucks would make it look like I wasn't trying hard enough.
I blush a lot. Sometimes when I blush I stay blushed for, like, 10 whole minutes. I look like a tomato, and I'm sorry. Sometimes I blush because I've been blushing for so long. I get embarrassed by the blushing.
I have very little fashion sense, but if I'm going to someone's office to meet them, or meeting somebody out for lunch? Trust me, I've tried. As much as I can try without waving a bunch of red flags around this place. If I need to look nicer than this I can, because my mom lives nearby and is always willing to pick out an outfit for me.
**it occurs to me that if any potential employers read this they will now be thinking, "The dumb girl has to have her mother dress her." Not true. Many people take fashion advice from TV, magazines, friends, etc. I take fashion advice from my mom. She's my hero.
**Also, it isn't really like the guys I work for would have a problem with me going for an interview or something, but it's not good for morale with my coworkers. I'm sensitive to that. Both because I care about people and because around here you're liable to get your head bitten off. In a nice way, of course (not really, no, not nice).
I don't have poison ivy. I look like this all the time. It's not contagious, it's psoriasis, and I hope it doesn't creep anybody out too badly to hire me. Sometimes it's better than others, and I never scratch in public. Hey, if LeAnn Rimes can admit it, so can I.
I may be a little awkward at first, but I am super conscientious and hardworking, and I eventually grow on people. I mean, besides that one girl at my current job that hates my guts, most people find me very pleasant to be around. My mom thinks I'm the bomb.
I can't lie to you, Interwebs. This economy is still pretty sucky, and it's going to be a while before things turn around. Finding a job in this state is tough, and I AM actually worried about my skills, my creds, my chances. There is one thing in particular that I pretty much consider a dream job, so I'm trying not to get my hopes up so's they don't get squashed like little buggies. So I worry if I'm good enough.
But I also worry about what kind of impression my toes make. I'm a complicated woman, Internet. You knew that when you got into this relationship. Wish me luck.
getting a little piece of garlic stuck in your tooth and working it out with your tongue is much like taking some sort of garlic breath infuser treatment. You've got to work really hard to undo that.
That Fitzgerald quote, "In the real dark night of the soul it is always three o'clock in the morning, day after day" takes on a whole new meaning when you're awake at three o'clock in the morning.
I did not win the lottery again today. Honestly, a poor girl's heart can only stand but so much.
Since my time at Bankrupt Inc. is coming to a close, I have put myself out on the proverbial market. Rather than worrying about the normal things one worries about when trying to secure gainful employment (ie. resume, skills, etc.), I am concerned about the following, because it's every so much more productive to worry about trivial stuff that doesn't matter.
I am not, repeat, am NOT, high maintenance enough to get regular pedicures. However, you might notice that my toenails are perfect. It's a bonding activity with me and my mom, and we go every two weeks if we can afford it. There are currently flowers on my toes because the girl at the shop asked me so very nicely if I wanted flowers, and I couldn't say no. Because I am a pedicure pushover. And, I'm wearing open-toed shoes because it's summer, and I hope that is appropriate. Because my only closed-toed shoes right now are sneakers and Doc Martens. And for some reason I thought red Chucks would make it look like I wasn't trying hard enough.
I blush a lot. Sometimes when I blush I stay blushed for, like, 10 whole minutes. I look like a tomato, and I'm sorry. Sometimes I blush because I've been blushing for so long. I get embarrassed by the blushing.
I have very little fashion sense, but if I'm going to someone's office to meet them, or meeting somebody out for lunch? Trust me, I've tried. As much as I can try without waving a bunch of red flags around this place. If I need to look nicer than this I can, because my mom lives nearby and is always willing to pick out an outfit for me.
**it occurs to me that if any potential employers read this they will now be thinking, "The dumb girl has to have her mother dress her." Not true. Many people take fashion advice from TV, magazines, friends, etc. I take fashion advice from my mom. She's my hero.
**Also, it isn't really like the guys I work for would have a problem with me going for an interview or something, but it's not good for morale with my coworkers. I'm sensitive to that. Both because I care about people and because around here you're liable to get your head bitten off. In a nice way, of course (not really, no, not nice).
I don't have poison ivy. I look like this all the time. It's not contagious, it's psoriasis, and I hope it doesn't creep anybody out too badly to hire me. Sometimes it's better than others, and I never scratch in public. Hey, if LeAnn Rimes can admit it, so can I.
I may be a little awkward at first, but I am super conscientious and hardworking, and I eventually grow on people. I mean, besides that one girl at my current job that hates my guts, most people find me very pleasant to be around. My mom thinks I'm the bomb.
I can't lie to you, Interwebs. This economy is still pretty sucky, and it's going to be a while before things turn around. Finding a job in this state is tough, and I AM actually worried about my skills, my creds, my chances. There is one thing in particular that I pretty much consider a dream job, so I'm trying not to get my hopes up so's they don't get squashed like little buggies. So I worry if I'm good enough.
But I also worry about what kind of impression my toes make. I'm a complicated woman, Internet. You knew that when you got into this relationship. Wish me luck.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Tips for a Decent Friday
So even though things are winding down here at what GypMom calls "Bankruptcy Inc." we are moving our desks and offices to another floor. For the last 3 months I have been sort of insulated from the rest of the folks, over here with the consultants I support. Now we'll all be thrown down in the mix, and we've never taken advantage of the fact that we've got a whole wing to ourselves. Amidst the moving craziness of tomorrow, here are things I propose we do tomorrow. I will tell you, Internet, instead of them because I'm not sure they get my sense of humor.
1. As I learned earlier today, the ladies room has some fantastic acoustics. I propose we do a short little rehearsal to make sure we all know the words to "Duke of Earl" by Gene Chandler, and wait until someone walks into the shitter with a magazine. Then it's showtime, Babies!
2. We're getting ready to have much less space. Also, there will be people sitting right next to me in Cubeland - unlike up here where I'm in a veritable Cube Wasteland. I'm the only cube occupant in the whole wing. So, the days of plugging the old iPod into computer speakers and listening to my music "at a reasonable volume" are likely over. Why not finish the week out right with a little bit of Mandatory Dance Time? I know you're all busy getting ready for yet another filing, but why not take a minute and boogie down to a little Harry Belafonte? Or if you're in a more mellow mood I could spin a little "Lime in the Coconut".
**As a side note, if you've ever hung out at my house you know that Mandatory Dance Time happens all the time, and it is FUN.
3. Instead of just buying lunch for our group, let's buy lunch for everyone in the building. And tell them it was my idea. Tell them that you would have never done it if it weren't for me. That they have me to thank for that free lunch. You're welcome, coworkers. You're welcome.
As none of these things are going to happen tomorrow, I will likely find little ways to make myself feel like they are happening. If I can get just one of them to "Shake Shake Senora" it will be a great time to be here.
1. As I learned earlier today, the ladies room has some fantastic acoustics. I propose we do a short little rehearsal to make sure we all know the words to "Duke of Earl" by Gene Chandler, and wait until someone walks into the shitter with a magazine. Then it's showtime, Babies!
2. We're getting ready to have much less space. Also, there will be people sitting right next to me in Cubeland - unlike up here where I'm in a veritable Cube Wasteland. I'm the only cube occupant in the whole wing. So, the days of plugging the old iPod into computer speakers and listening to my music "at a reasonable volume" are likely over. Why not finish the week out right with a little bit of Mandatory Dance Time? I know you're all busy getting ready for yet another filing, but why not take a minute and boogie down to a little Harry Belafonte? Or if you're in a more mellow mood I could spin a little "Lime in the Coconut".
**As a side note, if you've ever hung out at my house you know that Mandatory Dance Time happens all the time, and it is FUN.
3. Instead of just buying lunch for our group, let's buy lunch for everyone in the building. And tell them it was my idea. Tell them that you would have never done it if it weren't for me. That they have me to thank for that free lunch. You're welcome, coworkers. You're welcome.
As none of these things are going to happen tomorrow, I will likely find little ways to make myself feel like they are happening. If I can get just one of them to "Shake Shake Senora" it will be a great time to be here.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Nobody Wants Me - A Cautionary Tale of Part-Time Employment Seeking in a Crap Economy
Alack. As the homebuying process turns out to be more and more expensive, I realize that it would probably be best if I could pull down some extra income prior to starting grad school. Grad school, after all, is not free, and even though I will be applying for Financial Aid (a fun, exciting, and easy-as-pie process, Folks) we will still have to pay that money back someday.
Added to the fact that we are now in a 30-year mortgage that we will ALSO have to pay back, provided we want to keep a roof over our heads.
So I've been scouring the interwebs. Searching for that perfect part-time thing that will also provide benefits. That perfect part-time thing with the flexible hours and the work-from-home option that pays around $30 per hour. Easy, right? Not so much.
I thought I would just establish myself as a freelance writer and collect all this crazy income, buy my own independent insurance, and be Free From Corporate Servitude. Sure, I'd still work my corporate job - because I like it, but I wouldn't feel beholden to The Man, nor would I feel like the world was going to end when my job did.
Turns out it's a little more difficult to establish oneself as a freelance writer than one might think. Thank God for Shell at TopTenz - he lets me write for him and keep my research skills sharp (plus I get paid), but practically every other thing has turned out to be either a scam or someone who thought they wanted a writer and decided they were wrong.
So then I thought, "Hey." "Why not get a job someplace where I can get a discount?" I'd heard the Blockbuster gave part-time benefits, so I filled out an online application there. I had also heard that Target and Ukrops had part-time benefit options, so I applied online both of those places.
Nothing. Nada. I have heard zero from any of the places. Tomorrow I'm making it my mission to call each HR manager and be charming. Oh, and I'm going to apply to Lowes and The Home Depot, because a discount there would be sweet...
Added to the fact that we are now in a 30-year mortgage that we will ALSO have to pay back, provided we want to keep a roof over our heads.
So I've been scouring the interwebs. Searching for that perfect part-time thing that will also provide benefits. That perfect part-time thing with the flexible hours and the work-from-home option that pays around $30 per hour. Easy, right? Not so much.
I thought I would just establish myself as a freelance writer and collect all this crazy income, buy my own independent insurance, and be Free From Corporate Servitude. Sure, I'd still work my corporate job - because I like it, but I wouldn't feel beholden to The Man, nor would I feel like the world was going to end when my job did.
Turns out it's a little more difficult to establish oneself as a freelance writer than one might think. Thank God for Shell at TopTenz - he lets me write for him and keep my research skills sharp (plus I get paid), but practically every other thing has turned out to be either a scam or someone who thought they wanted a writer and decided they were wrong.
So then I thought, "Hey." "Why not get a job someplace where I can get a discount?" I'd heard the Blockbuster gave part-time benefits, so I filled out an online application there. I had also heard that Target and Ukrops had part-time benefit options, so I applied online both of those places.
Nothing. Nada. I have heard zero from any of the places. Tomorrow I'm making it my mission to call each HR manager and be charming. Oh, and I'm going to apply to Lowes and The Home Depot, because a discount there would be sweet...
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Blech
I had to take a shower when I got home from work today. Not because it was hot and I was all sweaty, but because the day was so yuck that I felt like I had to wash it off of me before I could get on with the rest of my day. We had the final walkthrough tonight, and then dinner with our REALTOR and friend Matt. I wanted to enjoy it, and I couldn't with the remnants of today's crapiness still upon me.
It's not like anything devastating happened. I had an altercation with a coworker about something stupid. Something I shouldn't have even cared about. Something that wasn't worth arguing over, but I couldn't get her to see that I didn't want to argue, and I didn't even need to "win". I just wanted to be kept in the loop and I didn't want her perception of my request as "ridiculous" to color her decision about something. It seemed like we were all on the same page until I opened my big fat mouth, and I would have been better off to cool my heels and ride it out. So much for full disclosure and frequent and open communication. Guess I'll start being shirty like everyone else.
No. You know what? I'm there to do my job. Whatever job that happens to be today, granted, but to do a job. I'm happy to still be drawing a paycheck. I'm trying to be my best. I can't help it that circumstances have made it so we're all working in a wasteland. I can't help it that my nature is to do the best I can and take the best care of the people I'm supposed to be taking care of. I never take a job to make friends, but I certainly don't go to make enemies, either. So it's a real drag when something comes across the wrong way and I feel like a jerk, I feel like someone's been a jerk to me, and everything just feels wrong. I mean, I'm practically begging someone not to take what I say the wrong way, I'm tap dancing and backpeddaling as much as I can to say, "hey I can be wrong and I'm willing to admit it", and that someone (without even saying "excuse me") just picks up their ringing phone and starts talking. That's one thing. I try to NEVER be rude. Anyway...
I will certainly try to make it better tomorrow. I will certainly try to be my best - to be diplomatic and cheerful and pleasant and cordial. Like I do every day. But today I'm a little broken and very tired, worn down by the grating knowledge that not much we do matters, but every way we interact with each other does.
The funny thing? Dwight says, "let it go", because in the long run it probably doesn't even matter, and I know he's right. I doubt that the coworker in question gave the situation a second thought, after making sure everyone was good and angry about my request. So I'm sitting here at 10:30, when I'm dead-tired and should be sleeping, blogging inappropriately about my feelings.
Rats. On a lighter and more fun note, there will be a New post tomorrow about the new house, plans for the new house, and the wide possibilities of paint.
It's not like anything devastating happened. I had an altercation with a coworker about something stupid. Something I shouldn't have even cared about. Something that wasn't worth arguing over, but I couldn't get her to see that I didn't want to argue, and I didn't even need to "win". I just wanted to be kept in the loop and I didn't want her perception of my request as "ridiculous" to color her decision about something. It seemed like we were all on the same page until I opened my big fat mouth, and I would have been better off to cool my heels and ride it out. So much for full disclosure and frequent and open communication. Guess I'll start being shirty like everyone else.
No. You know what? I'm there to do my job. Whatever job that happens to be today, granted, but to do a job. I'm happy to still be drawing a paycheck. I'm trying to be my best. I can't help it that circumstances have made it so we're all working in a wasteland. I can't help it that my nature is to do the best I can and take the best care of the people I'm supposed to be taking care of. I never take a job to make friends, but I certainly don't go to make enemies, either. So it's a real drag when something comes across the wrong way and I feel like a jerk, I feel like someone's been a jerk to me, and everything just feels wrong. I mean, I'm practically begging someone not to take what I say the wrong way, I'm tap dancing and backpeddaling as much as I can to say, "hey I can be wrong and I'm willing to admit it", and that someone (without even saying "excuse me") just picks up their ringing phone and starts talking. That's one thing. I try to NEVER be rude. Anyway...
I will certainly try to make it better tomorrow. I will certainly try to be my best - to be diplomatic and cheerful and pleasant and cordial. Like I do every day. But today I'm a little broken and very tired, worn down by the grating knowledge that not much we do matters, but every way we interact with each other does.
The funny thing? Dwight says, "let it go", because in the long run it probably doesn't even matter, and I know he's right. I doubt that the coworker in question gave the situation a second thought, after making sure everyone was good and angry about my request. So I'm sitting here at 10:30, when I'm dead-tired and should be sleeping, blogging inappropriately about my feelings.
Rats. On a lighter and more fun note, there will be a New post tomorrow about the new house, plans for the new house, and the wide possibilities of paint.
Monday, March 2, 2009
Snow Day
Today was a snow day. I finished the John Cusack article for http://www.toptenz.net/, answered work emails, and then worked on my paper for Immigrant literature, which I have changed sixteen times since the two times I blogged about it. Sheesh. Tomorrow, from the time I wake up (EARLY) until it's time to log into work (11 AM) I am going to finish it. Then I will work on a spreadsheet project I have pending. Fun. Then I will study for Poli Sci. Sometime before 5 I will finish a special project I'm working on for a friend, then I will try to clean part of the house.
Ambitious, aren't I?
Jake, as it turns out, likes the snow. It snowed 7 or 8 inches here. This is what it looked like from my front porch:
Ambitious, aren't I?
Jake, as it turns out, likes the snow. It snowed 7 or 8 inches here. This is what it looked like from my front porch:
And here are the poor vehicles, all covered in snow:
My herculean hubby hauled all the heavy snow out of the driveway. That was really nice of him, seeing as how I can't even set one toe on snow without causing myself serious bodily harm. Grace. Grace is not my name.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Backlog of Stuff
I keep thinking, "Hey I need to blog about this" about stuff and then I don't. I know it's certainly not breaking anyone's heart and nobody is checking every day to see if I've dropped any more pearls of wisdom on this website. I shall continue nonetheless.
What's been new lately? Still slowing losing my job. I love the lady I'm working for now - she's brilliant and hilarious and I respect the crap out of her, so that's really nice. It's interesting and horribly depressing watching a company go through everything this company has been through. It's also pretty weird to be the person who helps the CEO get ready to leave the company forever. I will remember this time forever - the sad parts and how much I'm learning about how bankruptcies work and how the morale is dipping into the very pits of despair. I try to stay cheerful through it all and make myself as useful as possible.
I'm going to start a blog documenting the progress of the Enbrel (the psoriasis medicine I'm starting this week). It will prove helpful to me in keeping me aware of how the medicine is actually performing, and maybe it will be helpful to other people out there (since there are, after all, 125 million people int he world with psoriasis) who are considering this expensive and kind of risky therapy. I'll provide a link for it here (after it's up) in case you're interested in reading it.
I promised an Emma update a while ago, but wanted to double check that it was OK to post video. Turns out I have carte blanche, so submitted for your enjoyment, here is Emma singing her favorite song from The Little Mermaid:
What's been new lately? Still slowing losing my job. I love the lady I'm working for now - she's brilliant and hilarious and I respect the crap out of her, so that's really nice. It's interesting and horribly depressing watching a company go through everything this company has been through. It's also pretty weird to be the person who helps the CEO get ready to leave the company forever. I will remember this time forever - the sad parts and how much I'm learning about how bankruptcies work and how the morale is dipping into the very pits of despair. I try to stay cheerful through it all and make myself as useful as possible.
I'm going to start a blog documenting the progress of the Enbrel (the psoriasis medicine I'm starting this week). It will prove helpful to me in keeping me aware of how the medicine is actually performing, and maybe it will be helpful to other people out there (since there are, after all, 125 million people int he world with psoriasis) who are considering this expensive and kind of risky therapy. I'll provide a link for it here (after it's up) in case you're interested in reading it.
I promised an Emma update a while ago, but wanted to double check that it was OK to post video. Turns out I have carte blanche, so submitted for your enjoyment, here is Emma singing her favorite song from The Little Mermaid:
Hands down, the cutest kid ever. We had a really nice time hanging out with her and her parents - we don't get to see her mamma as often (she works a LOT and just finished college) so it was nice to just have some dinner and watch a movie. We watched Sleeping Beauty, which is probably my favorite pre-Disney Renaissance flick. And, best Disney villian ever. I enjoyed the heck out of it. I also made a kick-ass pork tenderloin. I will post the recipe soon.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Heaven Help Us
One of the main reasons I've been neglecting you, Dear Blog, is because I haven't felt like writing about what is going on at work. I've delayed the inevitable as long as possible, and it looks like I could lose my job at any possible moment. Yes, my time at the venerable institution is coming to an end. It could happen Monday, it could happen after Christmas, it could happen at the end of January. It's coming, and I'm stressed, scared, and generally totally depressed.
http://www.timesdispatch.com/rtd/business/local/article/LAND17_20081216-213244/153129/
http://www.inman.com/news/2008/12/17/fidelity-closes-in-landamerica-deal
This deal could mean that many of my co-workers in the field could keep their jobs, so I'm in favor of it, but I don't know how it will affect me and the other workers at the company "headquarters". I guess this is one of those times where I wish I could support myself, husband, and cat with my meager blogging and sheer hope alone. The economy is bad and there are few jobs out there. And for every job out there exists hundreds of qualified applicants.
How does this affect me personally? Well, for one, I am not sure we can afford for me to go to school next semester. Which means that after a lackluster academic start in 1995, a failure and cry of "uncle" in 1999, finally going back and taking night classes (starting in Spring 2007) while working full time and maintaining a 3.83 average (12 classes - 10 A's, 2 B's) I might have gotten to my last 3 classes and have to stop. It's infuriating, and I'm so discouraged that I don't know what to do with myself. I feel like it would be selfish of me to try to allocate the meager funds we'll have to my sizeable tuition when we could be, I don't know, paying rent? Paying off debt? The possibility of finding something that would pay enough, be flexible to let me take a 4:00 class on Mondays and Wednesdays, and that would be easy enough for me to get the hang of without concentrating 100% is darn near impossible. I try to have a que sera sera kind of attitude, but I'm pretty down in the dumps right now.
So. Cherry holiday blog? No. That means I HAVE to blog tomorrow, to make up for it.
http://www.timesdispatch.com/rtd/business/local/article/LAND17_20081216-213244/153129/
http://www.inman.com/news/2008/12/17/fidelity-closes-in-landamerica-deal
This deal could mean that many of my co-workers in the field could keep their jobs, so I'm in favor of it, but I don't know how it will affect me and the other workers at the company "headquarters". I guess this is one of those times where I wish I could support myself, husband, and cat with my meager blogging and sheer hope alone. The economy is bad and there are few jobs out there. And for every job out there exists hundreds of qualified applicants.
How does this affect me personally? Well, for one, I am not sure we can afford for me to go to school next semester. Which means that after a lackluster academic start in 1995, a failure and cry of "uncle" in 1999, finally going back and taking night classes (starting in Spring 2007) while working full time and maintaining a 3.83 average (12 classes - 10 A's, 2 B's) I might have gotten to my last 3 classes and have to stop. It's infuriating, and I'm so discouraged that I don't know what to do with myself. I feel like it would be selfish of me to try to allocate the meager funds we'll have to my sizeable tuition when we could be, I don't know, paying rent? Paying off debt? The possibility of finding something that would pay enough, be flexible to let me take a 4:00 class on Mondays and Wednesdays, and that would be easy enough for me to get the hang of without concentrating 100% is darn near impossible. I try to have a que sera sera kind of attitude, but I'm pretty down in the dumps right now.
So. Cherry holiday blog? No. That means I HAVE to blog tomorrow, to make up for it.
Monday, December 15, 2008
Ah, the Holidays
Poor blog. Did you feel neglected? Did you think I didn't love you anymore? Pish posh. I've been busy riding the work rollercoaster - up & down - merger or no merger? Job or no job? I've got my resume out there but my heart's not in the hunt. I'm in a state of shock. Shock, blog. No kidding.
I've also been documenting the lack of success any product or treatment I try has had on my dermie situation. My ankles and hands are still really bad and I've been taking pictures every few days to see if it's improving. It's not. I plan to publish the results as soon as there are any. I am of the strong opinion that psoriasis is an illness pariah. I'm not trynig to make it chic or anything, but it certainly shouldn't have to be anybody's dirty little secret. Just wait, World. We're not stopping with The Singing Detective. No way.
Blah blah. Finally got Christmassy this weekend. I'll snap a pic of the tree after I get the presents wrapped.
I'm taking the day off to celebrate the end of the semester and straight A's, though I got a B minus on my Brit Lit paper and I'm totally bummed about it, even though I got an A in the class.
I will not spend all day watching E! Entertainment Network and hating myself. I will not spend all day...
I've also been documenting the lack of success any product or treatment I try has had on my dermie situation. My ankles and hands are still really bad and I've been taking pictures every few days to see if it's improving. It's not. I plan to publish the results as soon as there are any. I am of the strong opinion that psoriasis is an illness pariah. I'm not trynig to make it chic or anything, but it certainly shouldn't have to be anybody's dirty little secret. Just wait, World. We're not stopping with The Singing Detective. No way.
Blah blah. Finally got Christmassy this weekend. I'll snap a pic of the tree after I get the presents wrapped.
I'm taking the day off to celebrate the end of the semester and straight A's, though I got a B minus on my Brit Lit paper and I'm totally bummed about it, even though I got an A in the class.
I will not spend all day watching E! Entertainment Network and hating myself. I will not spend all day...
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Blast
The last few days have been full of confused communication and smiling at strangers. If you want to know more about that you'll have to be a friend who talks to me in person, because I can't talk about it here. I'm totally freaked out and strangely optimistic. We'll see if that stays.
I'm listening to a playlist I created called "belly songs" because they do a certain thing to my belly that can be compared to riding a roller coaster, or walking close to a high ledge. Here is the playlist, because my discretion and my energy level can't give you anything but awesome music.
1. Love Reign O'er Me - The Who
2. Baba O'Reilly - The Who
3. Radio - Alkaline Trio
4. Pride (In The Name Of Love) - U2
5. Can't Find My Way Home - Blind Faith
There are more, but I'll post them another time I'm hurting for content. :)
I'm listening to a playlist I created called "belly songs" because they do a certain thing to my belly that can be compared to riding a roller coaster, or walking close to a high ledge. Here is the playlist, because my discretion and my energy level can't give you anything but awesome music.
1. Love Reign O'er Me - The Who
2. Baba O'Reilly - The Who
3. Radio - Alkaline Trio
4. Pride (In The Name Of Love) - U2
5. Can't Find My Way Home - Blind Faith
There are more, but I'll post them another time I'm hurting for content. :)
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Weekend Fun
After finally finishing the forecast (budget) at work on Friday, my kind boss let me knock off an hour early and I came home and took a two-hour nap. Yum. We were going to run around, but Dwight ran around before he picked me up and BAM! Naptime for both of us.
OK. So Saturday my mom and I went to this holistic place for an ionic foot bath. Unless you don't know what this is, it is where you put your feet in this tub of water with a little ionic machine (?) and it draws all these impurities out of your feet. It's gross, and I still feel gross. But, better out than in, right?
So I'm off wine and soda for an undetermined period of time to see if it helps my digestion and hopefully takes a couple of pounds off me. During the forecasting/budgeting process at work I managed to gain 6 pounds. I remember fondly the days when stress made me forget to eat, rather than feel compelled to eat EVERYTHING IN SIGHT. I feel like a cow.
I might actually go on a health kick. That will constitute a whole new blog. Stay tuned, if you care and dare. The deciding factor will be taking my waist measurement and comparing it to a previous waist measurment and if it is an different I shall kick for health.
Speaking of other blogs, I think I might start a blog about being an Administrative Assistant. It's a field with little solidarity. The trick will be to make it compelling and interesting with real-life anecdotes without telling tales about the workplace. Because I hear that is a good idea. Perhaps I will listen to stories from 'out there' so if you or anyone you know are Administrative People the comments are open. Give me ammo so that I don't use my own to get fired.
OK. So Saturday my mom and I went to this holistic place for an ionic foot bath. Unless you don't know what this is, it is where you put your feet in this tub of water with a little ionic machine (?) and it draws all these impurities out of your feet. It's gross, and I still feel gross. But, better out than in, right?
So I'm off wine and soda for an undetermined period of time to see if it helps my digestion and hopefully takes a couple of pounds off me. During the forecasting/budgeting process at work I managed to gain 6 pounds. I remember fondly the days when stress made me forget to eat, rather than feel compelled to eat EVERYTHING IN SIGHT. I feel like a cow.
I might actually go on a health kick. That will constitute a whole new blog. Stay tuned, if you care and dare. The deciding factor will be taking my waist measurement and comparing it to a previous waist measurment and if it is an different I shall kick for health.
Speaking of other blogs, I think I might start a blog about being an Administrative Assistant. It's a field with little solidarity. The trick will be to make it compelling and interesting with real-life anecdotes without telling tales about the workplace. Because I hear that is a good idea. Perhaps I will listen to stories from 'out there' so if you or anyone you know are Administrative People the comments are open. Give me ammo so that I don't use my own to get fired.
Monday, September 29, 2008
Monday Morning
Got the paper finished. Yay for me. Didn't get all the reading done. Boo for me. Running late for work, where hopefully I will get the budget laid out so that my boss isn't disappointed in me.
I had a dream about walking a long way. I was tired and thirsty and my back hurt a lot. Funny enough, I woke up tired and thirsty with a sore back. Huh.
I had a dream about walking a long way. I was tired and thirsty and my back hurt a lot. Funny enough, I woke up tired and thirsty with a sore back. Huh.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Blog
I have been avoiding blogging, because my grandma always said that if you didn't have anything good to say then you shouldn't say anything at all. Nyuck nyuck. Things have been fine, really, just working really hard but not hard enough and feeling pretty overwhelmed. But instead of yet another "I'm so overwhelmed by all the things I have to do that I feel paralyzed and manage to watch a lot of TV instead" blog, I thought I'd write about something else. Not about having a huge and intimadating project for work work that I might never get finished. Not about the fact that everything has shifted so much at work that I'm not sure I'm not getting phased out. Not about having a 5-7 page paper due Monday that I haven't started yet. Not about having a 400+ page novel to read and only am on page 66. Not about having to do a web criticism project for my writing class. Not about the gazillion IDP goals I put up on my profile at work and now feel obligated to do. Not about the fact that Saturday is my mom's (and my mother-in-law's) birthday and I haven't shopped yet, plus I'm having my parents over for dinner Saturday and my house is filthy. Not about having a response to write about William Blake. Not about how messy my desk at work is. Not about the article I owe Shell that I really really really want to write but can't find three more examples to make it a true top ten list.
Nope. Not going to write about any of that stuff. Instead, I'm going to tell you about the dream I had the other night where I was me for half of a dream, but for the first half I was a border collie/terrier mix. Me and my dog (or me and my master who is me, depending on which perspective you want to stick with) live in a lakeside community. The air is fresh, the trees are green, the foliage is verdant and lush. The lake is clean and a lovely shade of whatever color means it's not polluted. The neighbors are friendly, and we all have tons in common and progressive dinner parties in the spring and fall. I am married, but he's not in this dream for some reason. He's Away. For a couple of months or something, while this particiular incident takes place. You see, as idyllic as the setting may be, nothing in this world is perfect. No, Gentle Readers, there is a Menace in Whispering Oaks. That's the name of the neighborhood. You'd have thought they would have named it something to do with the water, but you'll have to take that up with the crappy city planners in my dream. Anyway. The Menace happens to be a creature. One of Mythical Proportions and Legendary Ferociousness. Ferocity. Whatever. It's mean. It's an AlligatorFishPig, and it's loose and running wild. The elusive AlligatorFishPig creature is the stuff of tall tales and fairy tales and all kinds of tales (except it doesn't have tail, because Old Man Winters cut it off in the Winter of 1992 - it hangs on his wall to this day) and is something mean babysitters use to scare their charges. It is mean, and big, and it smells really bad.
During the first part of the dream when I'm the dog I am just really curious and interested in the AlligatorFishPig. I run off chasing it through the woods when I hear it snorting and it always drives my master (me) crazy. Because I'm (the master) always afraid the dog is going to get hurt, but the dog thinks that's silly, because how could anything that smells so interesting be dangerous? I know, dogs are naive.
I won't bore you with this any more, but I'll tell you that there is a twist at the end, and it's really surprising. And good. And interesting. And I'll probably forget it before I even hit "publish post".
Ah. The dangers of preoccupied blogging. Back to Pamela. I'm going to go read the crap out of that book.
Nope. Not going to write about any of that stuff. Instead, I'm going to tell you about the dream I had the other night where I was me for half of a dream, but for the first half I was a border collie/terrier mix. Me and my dog (or me and my master who is me, depending on which perspective you want to stick with) live in a lakeside community. The air is fresh, the trees are green, the foliage is verdant and lush. The lake is clean and a lovely shade of whatever color means it's not polluted. The neighbors are friendly, and we all have tons in common and progressive dinner parties in the spring and fall. I am married, but he's not in this dream for some reason. He's Away. For a couple of months or something, while this particiular incident takes place. You see, as idyllic as the setting may be, nothing in this world is perfect. No, Gentle Readers, there is a Menace in Whispering Oaks. That's the name of the neighborhood. You'd have thought they would have named it something to do with the water, but you'll have to take that up with the crappy city planners in my dream. Anyway. The Menace happens to be a creature. One of Mythical Proportions and Legendary Ferociousness. Ferocity. Whatever. It's mean. It's an AlligatorFishPig, and it's loose and running wild. The elusive AlligatorFishPig creature is the stuff of tall tales and fairy tales and all kinds of tales (except it doesn't have tail, because Old Man Winters cut it off in the Winter of 1992 - it hangs on his wall to this day) and is something mean babysitters use to scare their charges. It is mean, and big, and it smells really bad.
During the first part of the dream when I'm the dog I am just really curious and interested in the AlligatorFishPig. I run off chasing it through the woods when I hear it snorting and it always drives my master (me) crazy. Because I'm (the master) always afraid the dog is going to get hurt, but the dog thinks that's silly, because how could anything that smells so interesting be dangerous? I know, dogs are naive.
I won't bore you with this any more, but I'll tell you that there is a twist at the end, and it's really surprising. And good. And interesting. And I'll probably forget it before I even hit "publish post".
Ah. The dangers of preoccupied blogging. Back to Pamela. I'm going to go read the crap out of that book.
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Still Sicky
As it turns out, pancreatitis is not as easy to get over as I anticipated. The internet said 2-3 days, the ER doctor said 2-3 WEEKS, and my PCP said 1 week. So I don't know what to think. Literally, since they've got me on so many meds that I can't see straight. I will hopefully see a specialist soon, who will hopefully take me off the crazy barrage of medicines.
In the meantime I am missing work, which I HATE to do, mainly because it puts me behind and secondarily because I'm scared it makes me look bad and will/may get me in trouble. Because I'm paranoid like that.
I am behind on schoolwork already, even though I had yesterday and today to do it (and technically the parts of Thursday and Friday that I didn't work from home) but have been wonked out by medicine so unable. That means I have a 1/2 book to read, a 3-5 pager, a written transcription of the poem that the 3-5 pager is on, a 1 pager, a simulated resume for Business Writing, and a 2 pager all due by Tuesday. I hope I'm feeling better tomorrow night, since I only managed to get the first 1/2 of the book, the online response for said first 1/2 of book and the preliminary thinking for the 3-5 pager done so far tonight, and it's almost time for the green pill, which takes me to lala land. I might be getting a doctor's note to get extensions on some of these things.
All in all, sickness plus the stress is not haappy time for me. Sorry for the crappy blog.
In the meantime I am missing work, which I HATE to do, mainly because it puts me behind and secondarily because I'm scared it makes me look bad and will/may get me in trouble. Because I'm paranoid like that.
I am behind on schoolwork already, even though I had yesterday and today to do it (and technically the parts of Thursday and Friday that I didn't work from home) but have been wonked out by medicine so unable. That means I have a 1/2 book to read, a 3-5 pager, a written transcription of the poem that the 3-5 pager is on, a 1 pager, a simulated resume for Business Writing, and a 2 pager all due by Tuesday. I hope I'm feeling better tomorrow night, since I only managed to get the first 1/2 of the book, the online response for said first 1/2 of book and the preliminary thinking for the 3-5 pager done so far tonight, and it's almost time for the green pill, which takes me to lala land. I might be getting a doctor's note to get extensions on some of these things.
All in all, sickness plus the stress is not haappy time for me. Sorry for the crappy blog.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
*Yawn*
It was a hard day at work. It's because I went in late because of a Dr. appointment, and then couldn't catch up. Added to the fact that there was a slight technical difficulty during a very important conference call that could have been (and probably was) perceived as my fault.
Alas. I'm tired and cranky, and I'm working on this crazy spreadsheet that will never, ever, ever be over. I'm trying to get in as much work as I can on it because tomorrow is "OK, I'm going on vacation next week so let's get it done" day.
Blech. I can't wait for my "Staycation". I need some time off before I burn out altogether.
In other news, I've had the rickety mansion on the river dream for three nights in a row. I'll have to remember to write it down next time...
Alas. I'm tired and cranky, and I'm working on this crazy spreadsheet that will never, ever, ever be over. I'm trying to get in as much work as I can on it because tomorrow is "OK, I'm going on vacation next week so let's get it done" day.
Blech. I can't wait for my "Staycation". I need some time off before I burn out altogether.
In other news, I've had the rickety mansion on the river dream for three nights in a row. I'll have to remember to write it down next time...
Thursday, April 3, 2008
Hurt at Work
It doesn't look like much, but I got hurt at work today, and I have boo-boos. BOO-BOOS! On my face!
We have cubes at my office - they have these removable frosted clear plastic file trays that stick out of the wall. I was in the "shared laptop" cubicle trying to scan something and the scanner didn't seem to be on. I stood up, leaned over it, and cleanly and efficiently jammed my eye socket unto the corner of the file tray.
OUCH!
Tears started--getting hit that close the eye causes the defensive tears to start. I then realized that I was about a biscuit away from sobbing like a baby, so I promptly picked up my stuff and left.
This is what it looks like. It doesn't look like it hurts, but it does. I can't even move my right eyebrow, so Dwight is without the benefit of my comical yet attractive facial expressions.
Here it is.
As you can see, my eyes are also swollen from the boo-hoo baby crying I did on the way home.
I feel wounded and silly, and I skipped school because I was still collapsing into tears every seventh breath or so.
I managed to write this blog without crying, so that's a bonus. Poor me. Oh poor me.
Thanks for coming to my pity party.
First of all, it was stupid of me to plant my face into a pointy file tray. I'll admit that. If the pointy file tray wasn't looming...dangerously...waiting to jab itself into someone's eye socket I would probably have just laughed it off--if all of my body weight hadn't been behind the head that houses the eye socket that jammed into the pointy corner of the file tray and I hadn't cried out--actually cried out in pain. It would have been funny.
It would have been also funnier if I hadn't had to flee my place of business because I knew that the only way I could control the sobs would be by choking them back, thus making a two-year-old-sounding hiccupy crying noise, and if I could manage that I'd be lucky because every atom of my being wanted to cradle the uninjured half of my face in my soft, Target sweater-covered arms and p0ur every ounce of frustration, stress, and pain into wracking, cleansing, full-bodied sobs that would shake the already unsteady structure of my cube.
My poor Mom--I called her from the parking lot, tredging unsteadily with my school bag, computer, and gym bag in tow, trying not to cry visibly because all of the VP - level executives have offices with windows and I could just see some Veep saying, "Hey Liz, saw you sobbing in the parking lot the other day, I thought you'd gotten fired" or "Hey Liz, saw you crying in the parking lot. I told you shouldn't wear heels that high." I finally got to my car, and it was a blubberfest from Innsbrook to almost home.
Sheesh. I'm tired.
We have cubes at my office - they have these removable frosted clear plastic file trays that stick out of the wall. I was in the "shared laptop" cubicle trying to scan something and the scanner didn't seem to be on. I stood up, leaned over it, and cleanly and efficiently jammed my eye socket unto the corner of the file tray.
OUCH!
Tears started--getting hit that close the eye causes the defensive tears to start. I then realized that I was about a biscuit away from sobbing like a baby, so I promptly picked up my stuff and left.
This is what it looks like. It doesn't look like it hurts, but it does. I can't even move my right eyebrow, so Dwight is without the benefit of my comical yet attractive facial expressions.
Here it is.
As you can see, my eyes are also swollen from the boo-hoo baby crying I did on the way home.
I feel wounded and silly, and I skipped school because I was still collapsing into tears every seventh breath or so.
I managed to write this blog without crying, so that's a bonus. Poor me. Oh poor me.
Thanks for coming to my pity party.
First of all, it was stupid of me to plant my face into a pointy file tray. I'll admit that. If the pointy file tray wasn't looming...dangerously...waiting to jab itself into someone's eye socket I would probably have just laughed it off--if all of my body weight hadn't been behind the head that houses the eye socket that jammed into the pointy corner of the file tray and I hadn't cried out--actually cried out in pain. It would have been funny.
It would have been also funnier if I hadn't had to flee my place of business because I knew that the only way I could control the sobs would be by choking them back, thus making a two-year-old-sounding hiccupy crying noise, and if I could manage that I'd be lucky because every atom of my being wanted to cradle the uninjured half of my face in my soft, Target sweater-covered arms and p0ur every ounce of frustration, stress, and pain into wracking, cleansing, full-bodied sobs that would shake the already unsteady structure of my cube.
My poor Mom--I called her from the parking lot, tredging unsteadily with my school bag, computer, and gym bag in tow, trying not to cry visibly because all of the VP - level executives have offices with windows and I could just see some Veep saying, "Hey Liz, saw you sobbing in the parking lot the other day, I thought you'd gotten fired" or "Hey Liz, saw you crying in the parking lot. I told you shouldn't wear heels that high." I finally got to my car, and it was a blubberfest from Innsbrook to almost home.
Sheesh. I'm tired.
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Ode to a Rubber Band Ball
Ode to my Rubber Band Ball
I started you with a single band and paper
And thought my interest would wane and taper
But now you are so round and bouncy
I couldn't love you another ounce. See...
...soon your size and magnitude
Will overwhelm my little cube
People from all around will travel
And from the stress you will unravel
Once the bands I did abhor
And now I only wish for more
To grow your power and your glory
To tell a cautionary rubber band ball story
And on that fateful day when you spring apart
I'll pick up the pieces of my stretched-out heart
Crumple a used-up sticky note, true
And start to make another you
Saturday, January 26, 2008
When Sugar Fails
I just wrote a whole thing here and it went kaput. I can't possibly recreate it, but since it probably wasn't all that great to begin with it won't kill me to start over.
I suffered a rare bout of insomnia on Thursday night. I was babysitting overnight at a co-worker's house and found that I don't "overnight" well anymore. I don't sleep well without my husband, plus the sheets were scratchy, their heat was VERY dry (electric compared to our old-fashioned oil heat), and I had a lot on my mind regarding school and work.
No sleep makes me f'ing hyper. Seriously--mad chattering mania with jerky movements and breathless intensity. I'M uncomfortable around me when I'm like that, but there is no stopping it. Since I try so hard to get ample sleep (in order to avoid situations like these), I'm not usually out-of-control punchy at work. I just hope I kept it under control enough that I don't get an HR intervention for suspected drug use or Red Bull overdose.
So...yeah. No sleep (also known as insomnia) makes me hyper until about noon, wherein I crash miserably, becoming irritable, brainless, and lethargic. Yeah. So...I hope I don't get "interventioned" or fired. I try to keep myself as milk toast and PC as possible, and if I'm all-of-a-sudden going to have quirks other than the Shatner obsession, it would be nice if it was a cooler quirk...like spontaneous x-ray vision or telekinesis. I guess we really can't choose our vices.
New week, new start. I read somewhere that inconsistent sleep patterns can cause headaches, so I'm going to try to regulate my sleep. I am going to try to go to bed at 10 every night and get up at 6 every morning. Exactly 8 hours, with nap options on weekends. Rome wasn't built in a day.
I suffered a rare bout of insomnia on Thursday night. I was babysitting overnight at a co-worker's house and found that I don't "overnight" well anymore. I don't sleep well without my husband, plus the sheets were scratchy, their heat was VERY dry (electric compared to our old-fashioned oil heat), and I had a lot on my mind regarding school and work.
No sleep makes me f'ing hyper. Seriously--mad chattering mania with jerky movements and breathless intensity. I'M uncomfortable around me when I'm like that, but there is no stopping it. Since I try so hard to get ample sleep (in order to avoid situations like these), I'm not usually out-of-control punchy at work. I just hope I kept it under control enough that I don't get an HR intervention for suspected drug use or Red Bull overdose.
So...yeah. No sleep (also known as insomnia) makes me hyper until about noon, wherein I crash miserably, becoming irritable, brainless, and lethargic. Yeah. So...I hope I don't get "interventioned" or fired. I try to keep myself as milk toast and PC as possible, and if I'm all-of-a-sudden going to have quirks other than the Shatner obsession, it would be nice if it was a cooler quirk...like spontaneous x-ray vision or telekinesis. I guess we really can't choose our vices.
New week, new start. I read somewhere that inconsistent sleep patterns can cause headaches, so I'm going to try to regulate my sleep. I am going to try to go to bed at 10 every night and get up at 6 every morning. Exactly 8 hours, with nap options on weekends. Rome wasn't built in a day.
When Sugar Fails
I barely slept a wink Thursday night. I was babysitting at a co-worker's house about a half hour from my house, and I couldn't sleep. I didn't have my husband next to me, I was in a strange bed with scratchy sheets, they have electric heat (quite dry compared to our old-fashioned oil heat), and I had a lot on my mind regarding school and work.
As a result of my insomnia, I was f'ing WIRED Friday morning. Seriously, I'm not sure that I won't be "interventioned" at work because they'll fear that I'm on happy pills or drinking before work. No sleep does that to me. It makes me hyper. Until about noon, when I crash hard and feel sleepy and am distracted, brainless, and irritable. Thus perpetuating possible rumors about my crazy rock and roll lifestyle and illicit drug use.
Of course I feel it necessary to reiterate the fact that I am NOT on drugs, I just don't react well to insomnia. It makes for a bad day for me.
Lesson learned? Don't sleep anywhere different from where you live unless you absolutely can't help it, and if you do happen to suffer from insomnia you should call in sick. Unfortunately those aren't always viable options. So, you motor through and hope you don't come off as a complete whacko.
As a result of my insomnia, I was f'ing WIRED Friday morning. Seriously, I'm not sure that I won't be "interventioned" at work because they'll fear that I'm on happy pills or drinking before work. No sleep does that to me. It makes me hyper. Until about noon, when I crash hard and feel sleepy and am distracted, brainless, and irritable. Thus perpetuating possible rumors about my crazy rock and roll lifestyle and illicit drug use.
Of course I feel it necessary to reiterate the fact that I am NOT on drugs, I just don't react well to insomnia. It makes for a bad day for me.
Lesson learned? Don't sleep anywhere different from where you live unless you absolutely can't help it, and if you do happen to suffer from insomnia you should call in sick. Unfortunately those aren't always viable options. So, you motor through and hope you don't come off as a complete whacko.
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
The kitty is snoring
I should be in bed. I am going to get up super-early tomorrow to get to work early. I was going to do some work when I got home, but I'm sore from my adjustment and TIRED.
I had my first chiropractor appointment in months--I went back to the first chiropractor I ever saw after some dissatisfaction with the last one. Good chiropractor--a little to eye-on-the-prize bottom line. I saw a different side of him when he tried to pitch to my mom. I have a big problem with how commericalized and big-business modern medicine has become, and that last guy showed me that alternative medicine is headed down the same path.
I had my first chiropractor appointment in months--I went back to the first chiropractor I ever saw after some dissatisfaction with the last one. Good chiropractor--a little to eye-on-the-prize bottom line. I saw a different side of him when he tried to pitch to my mom. I have a big problem with how commericalized and big-business modern medicine has become, and that last guy showed me that alternative medicine is headed down the same path.
I think that chiropractic care makes a lot of sense. Also, when I was going regularly I breated better and had less pain. Took the 'chronic' out of chronic back pain. I was really getting better. I have new hope for a healthy pain-free body (that is also 30 pounds lighter).
One of my friends on myspace has documented her considerable weight loss in a blog. It's been really interesting to follow her progress and cheer for her accomplishments. I don't think I'll go that route, though I might be tempted to post some 'before and after' photos should I reach my goal.
It's been a pretty good head day. Only four or five worries about cancer, no fears about catching random and freakish sores from touching the same pen as someone else, two or three fleeting thoughts and worries about death and the possibility of under-atonement, two thoughts about monkeys and their similarity to humans, six freakouts about forgetting something, two guilt sessions about procrastination...
My lovely boss donated $100 to my heartwalk campaign. I remain worried that we won't reach our company goal.
I need to get up at six to get to work by seven because I want to make Hubby's sandwich for work (first day back after wisdom tooth misery) and get my thoughts together before I get to the office at seven for a power-productivity session where I plan to wipe out overhanging projects in a blinding and accurate three-hour work session. When I'm in the right frame of mind I can get a week's work of worth done in two or three hours. Let's hope tomorrow morning yields the right frame of mind...
I guess I'll let you know.
It's been a pretty good head day. Only four or five worries about cancer, no fears about catching random and freakish sores from touching the same pen as someone else, two or three fleeting thoughts and worries about death and the possibility of under-atonement, two thoughts about monkeys and their similarity to humans, six freakouts about forgetting something, two guilt sessions about procrastination...
My lovely boss donated $100 to my heartwalk campaign. I remain worried that we won't reach our company goal.
I need to get up at six to get to work by seven because I want to make Hubby's sandwich for work (first day back after wisdom tooth misery) and get my thoughts together before I get to the office at seven for a power-productivity session where I plan to wipe out overhanging projects in a blinding and accurate three-hour work session. When I'm in the right frame of mind I can get a week's work of worth done in two or three hours. Let's hope tomorrow morning yields the right frame of mind...
I guess I'll let you know.
I remain,
Liz
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