The apartment powers-that-be came out late last week and turned off our furnace. Of course, the temperature dropped 20 degrees within a couple of days and I'm sitting in a cold apartment. Did they learn nothing from last year? You can't fucking check the extended forecast and see that the low temps will be dipping into the mid-30s within a day or so? I mean, give it five days and you'll be fine -- it's supposed to be fucking over 80 on Thursday and Friday.
It's actually not that terrible now -- it's 62 and I'm still warm from working out and showering. Tomorrow morning will likely be fairly brutal. And the high tomorrow should reach the same temperature as my apartment is now, so yay for that. Ah, Spring in Minnesota. We have 80s on Thursday and Friday, then it appears the temps will be fluctuating between the upper 50s and upper 60s. Thank goodness I just had a cold, or I'd be getting one.
The bonus to it being butt-ass cold in my apartment, however, is that I'll be motivated to stay at the gym and run errands so I don't have to hang around here, bundled up in my winter coat.
This freezing apartment thing could have been far worse. Let me rephrase that -- my day could have been far worse. I was freaking out yesterday and this morning because I didn't have anything scheduled to do at work. That's bad enough, but my billable time is going to suffer this month (again) because this huge project I worked on last week is now going to be billed as an internal project. Which means it doesn't count toward my billable hours, so I won't be making my goal again. Fucking lovely. So, I was in a a borderline panic. However, I sent out word I was looking for work and now I'm wondering how I'll get everything done this week.
Everything seems fairly awesome, even, after I weighed myself at the gym and saw that I dropped four pounds in a week. I officially gave up on The Recession Diet. I was getting disgusted with myself, so I've gone back to being obsessive about working out and eating. According to the gym scale, I'd only gained back seven pounds at the most of what I'd lost. But it was enough to make me feel gross. Grosser than before, anyway.
I'm going to try not to be annoying about it. Or too obsessive. However, I'm already trying to figure out how I can get a workout in between leaving work at 4:30 and having to be at Seven by 7:00 on Friday for pre-Boyz II Men drinks. *sigh* I really am going to try to not be an annoying asshole about this. I swear.