30 January 2012

New year, same shit.

So much for things getting better at work. As if losing my favorite client (however temporarily) and finding out Chicken Little would eventually be my boss weren't bad enough, I came in today to find out my minimum billable hours goal for this year was increasing by 10 percent.

Until now, I was expected to spend 75 percent of my time on billable work. I've pretty much always exceeded that goal, mostly because I had no fucking choice. Last week, the boss sent out our totals from last year and I was at 113 percent of my goal, which apparently meant I spent 85 percent of my time last year working on billable stuff.

So, wouldn't you know it, my billable goal for this year is 85 percent. First of all, thanks for telling us that at the end of the fucking month. This month was not going to look good regardless, but it's absolutely going to look worse now.

Maybe it doesn't seem so unreasonable a goal, since I met it last year without trying. But long-time readers of this blog will recall me bitching over the course of 2011 (and 2010 ... probably a good chunk of 2009) about how I had to work a lot of nights, weekends, holidays and vacation days. That's how I got to 85 percent of my time being billable.

Things were supposed to get better this year, what with the new staff and everything. I don't see how that's going to happen, though, if I'm going to have to have nearly all of my time billed to clients.

Today was not a good day. I fully intend to bring this up at my review, but that won't fucking do anything. I'm pretty deep into the despair right now. Knowing there's another year out there where I'll be working all that non-work time just makes me want to weep. It's not like I'm doing important work or helping anyone. I work for a fucking corporation that works for other corporations. I hate myself for it often.

And you better believe I'm not going to get a big raise or big bonus for all the extra time I've put in and all the sacrifices I've made.


I'd better go. I need to get my resume updated. I've got an application that needs to get out tomorrow.

29 January 2012

Sometimes I feel like I'm terrible at weekends.

Oh, I had big plans for this weekend. Just like I have big plans for every weekend. Sometimes they come to fruition, sometimes they don't.

This weekend is one where I didn't really get around to the things I'd planned to do. The Boy I Currently Like and I got to MK's birthday surprise shindig on Friday night. We didn't stay very long, as it was busy and he was sick, but he was glad to have gone, so that's great.

Saturday was mostly a wash. I did get to the gym and ran a couple of errands, but I was laid out on the couch most of the rest of the day. I think I sat up and was alert during the Gophers OT win against Illinois. But I was in bed before midnight. And I slept until 10:00 this morning. Which fucked up much of my day today.

And here I am, tired as shit at 9:00. I guess that means I'll go to bed at a decent hour tonight and can get up and do all the work I need to do tomorrow?

Somehow, I managed to forget all of the horrible shit that I learned at the end of the work day on Friday. My favorite client, who makes up as much as half of my billable time some weeks, won't be renewing their contract. They were forced to cut their budget by a very large percentage, so we had to go.

That's not the worst of it, though. I also learned that eventually, Chicken Little will be my boss. That induced some panic. I was nearly in tears on my way to The Boy's, but some drinks managed to make me forget about it. But I remembered it and the weight of it is settling in around my shoulders. I don't know how I will be able to deal with it. It's not like anything will actually change, but I fear he may go mad with power.

I should be updating my resume. I have to get out.

28 January 2012

Best laid plans.

Though, I'm not sure why I'm so intent on making cinnamon rolls. I was bound and determined to make them last weekend, but I was still sick, so I got lazy and didn't make them.

I've been getting better this week, so today when I left The Boy I Currently Like's house, I decided that I was going to make cinnamon rolls this weekend!

Fast forward to 10:45 p.m. and they're not in the fridge to rise overnight. Perhaps I'll start them when I get up and do the first rise while I'm at the gym.

I like that before-bed optimism I have on weekends. I'm gonna get stuff done tomorrow! It's gonna be great! I'm still not certain why I feel the need to make cinnamon rolls, though.

25 January 2012

Not using my time wisely.

In theory, I would have used tonight to create that post on That's not a parking spot, asshole that I was talking about last night. Or I would have done something else mildly productive.

But no! I did nothing. Okay, I washed dishes. I had to do that, though. I decided to take the night off from the gym, because driving all that way to do 20 minutes on the treadmill seemed dumb. And that's all the cardio I could really do, because the way my knee hurt after the little spill last night, I knew the elliptical and bike were out of the question.

I have two excuses: I am fucking tired and ... crap. I forgot. OH! I got home right before the Wolves and Gophers games started. So I really didn't have time to do much before I was engrossed in hoops. So nice to see the Wolves come out and kick the crap out of the Mavs the day KLOVE signed his big contract. I'll not mention the Gophers. But there were some good Law & Order episodes on tonight.

Now, I have to get ready to wind down for bed. That's another part of the whole point of skipping the gym -- getting to bed at a decent hour. It's gonna happen, y'all. I feel it!

24 January 2012


Man, I was so tired after work. I worked late and went to Target after work, so by the time I got home from work to have a snack and change before the gym, I was going to be getting to the gym late. Not to mention that this cold is lingering. I'm still getting occasionally nailed with waves of dizziness/fatigue/foggy-headedness.

But I was going to go to the gym anyway, because that's how I do, yo.

On my way to the car, I slipped on the icy-ass motherfucking sidewalk and bit it. I went down slowly and sat there for a minute; I considered saying "fuck it" and going back into the house and getting a glass of wine. But I got up, feeling fairly unscathed, and got in the car.

Yes. I am gonna do this!

Got to the gym and realized I had left my water bottle at home. Fuck. I hesitated, but then I kept going. I paid $2 for a bottle of Aquafina. NOTHING IS GOING TO KEEP ME DOWN.

Okay, maybe the fact that I did indeed jack my knee up a bit in the slip will keep me down. Not for long, however. I did my entire workout, save for hamstring curls. And that was because some fucking dicks were hogging the machine. I did have to drop down 15 pounds on my leg press and use my left leg to help get my right leg going, because of the knee. But I think I'm gonna be okay.

Regardless of outcome, I certainly don't think it's a repeat of last year's incident. I shit you not, my right ass cheek is still lumpy because of that. And it will be forever, because it's scar tissue. Thanks a ton, shittily designed building. At least there's only one person who spends any time fondling my ass (aside from myself), and The Boy I Currently Like claims to not notice the lumpiness.

I was going to do a post on That's not a parking spot, asshole, because there have been so many offenders at the gym. But I got home late and watched the State of the Union address and the Republican response and I've still not taken a shower. So, I think that needs to get done so I can get to bed a decent hour tonight.  Hahahahahahahahaha. Good fucking luck, bitch.

23 January 2012


I stopped in to Trader Joe's on my way to the gym tonight and they had their boxed wine in stock! YES!

The last time I managed to get some was in November. Or maybe October. I think they said they would get some in November, and I never managed to get in there when they had it (I wasn't getting to the St. Louis Park gym location much yet then).

I have been popping in now at least weekly, since I have to drive by on my way to the gym. Oh, they had the boxes of white, but fuck that shit. I wanted the red. And there it was today -- a massive pile of it in the middle of the wine shop. Thank you, Jebus!

The guy who rang me up said it was much better than the second shipment. I really liked the first boxes I bought. When I got some the second time around, I thought maybe it was just me tasting it anew and getting over the idea of "OMG, $9.99 for a WHOLE BOX OF WINE!" He noted that the second batch was lacking in flavor, so maybe it wasn't just me? He said the new batch was so good, he was going to buy a case. Of boxes of wine.

I only grabbed two boxes, for a number of reasons. I only had two hands. I probably needed to try it first, to make sure it was okay. And I'm going to drive by tomorrow. I had half a glass (I have an open bottle from last night -- that shit'll go bad, unlike the box) and it was as good as I remembered my very first box being. I will buy more tomorrow!

That's assuming I make it to the gym. Goddamn, I am sore today. I only did a normal workout yesterday, and I'd only taken six days off. Maybe it's because I'm still sick? But I don't really mind being sore. It reminds me I have muscles and makes me feel all strong and shit.

So, onward and upward, to more weights and wine tomorrow.

22 January 2012

Sunday, Sunday.

In the tune of the Mamas and Papas "Monday, Monday."

Oh, I thought I was better today. I got nearly 10 hours of sleep last night. I felt pretty goddamn good this morning when I got up (late). After a little coffee, I was READY TO GO. Well, mostly. I decided to postpone my visit to Ulta in the 'burbs to use my 20 percent off coupon. I have until Saturday to spend that money, for fuck's sake.

Even after getting quarters and hitting Penzey's on my way to the gym, I was feeling like I could conquer the day and do all kinds of stuff. I was going to make cinnamon rolls and soup and maybe bread. I was gonna do laundry and ... probably some other stuff. I can't really remember what my mental day looked like at this point.

Then I went to the gym. Oh, I had big plans for that, too. I was gonna do at least 50 minutes of cardio and lift weights. Note: I hadn't been to the gym since Monday and I've been sick since Monday. Apparently, I'm an optimist?

My 20-minutes on the treadmill to warm up were encouraging. I didn't have a coughing fit or anything until I started my brief cooldown. My lungs were kinda on fire, but the important thing was that I wasn't coughing. Then, about halfway through my weights, it hit me. Holy crap. I wanted to just crawl up under a bench and sleep.

I managed to finish lifting and stretching and bailed on the 30 minutes on the elliptical. After getting home, it took me 90 minutes to eat something, chop up a few things for my slow-cooker split pea soup, do a few dishes and shower. It shouldn't have taken anywhere near that long. There would be no baking. Laundry had to get done, but at least I could lay on the couch between trips to the basement.

Why I thought I could just bounce back like nothing happened from this cold is beyond me. I mean, I'm still coughing and congested. I had that dizzy, foggy-headed feeling while I was out and about today. That should have been a sign. I am getting better, though. If I do things right this week, I should be at 100 percent in another week, if not before.

My Sunday night feels a bit odd, what with the slow-cooker split pea soup going. I'm drinking my Sunday night wine, but I'm not doing anything! I do have some chicken sausage to cook up quick for my breakfasts this week. And some almonds to toast. If I'm really looking for something to do, I could get another sink of dishes washed. I don't know that I'm looking for that much work, though.

I wish I'd looked at the forecast for today/tomorrow before I left work. I left my work laptop in the office and we're supposed to get an inch or two of snow overnight and a bit more during the day. This is on top of the freezing drizzle we had all day (part of my reason to avoid going anywhere outside the 'hood today). It's fairly similar to the situation on Friday, where we had an inch or so of snow and like, 300-some accidents in the metro area. I'm not even going to complain about the fact that this is MINNESOTA and we get snow. Thankfully, I can take side streets and get to work in 20-25 minutes. It ain't no thang.

19 January 2012

Work in progress.

My whole taking-it-easy-while-I'm-sick thing is still something I'm learning to do properly. I've gotten extra sleep -- almost eight hours, two nights in a row! The rest of it, though, I'm not entirely sure.

I worked two long days, albeit from home. Tonight marks night three of not going to the gym. I don't know for sure if that's the reason my asthma hasn't been terrible. Yet, probably.

Tomorrow I go back to the office. And then I get a weekend where I don't have to do a whole lot. Especially I won't have to do a lot of laundry. What with not going to the office for two days. And not going to the gym for three days. I'm just ready for shit to go back to normal.

So, I'm sitting here, typing and clearly not saying anything. Not sure why I even opened this bad boy up tonight. Ain't no need to blog when there ain't nothin' to blog about. I should really stop typing now. When I get to the end of this sentence. PERIOD.

18 January 2012

Doing the responsible thing, yet feeling irresponsible.

Since I'm sick, but not super sick, I opted to work from home today. I mean, I have the option, so why not use it? I don't expose my coworkers to my germs (not to mention the sneezing, coughing and nose-blowing), I get to sleep in a bit and can take breaks, I have access to everything I need ...

I actually didn't feel all that bad until the end of the (normal) work day, when my boss freaked out about the mark up on a project. My snot- and cold-medicine-addled brain had me convinced that I fucked up somehow. (Caveat -- even if I did, he had many, many opportunities to catch it and didn't.) The thing is, though, I didn't screw up, unless he screwed up first and I based everything I did on his initial screw up. After an hour of repeating calculations over and over and getting the same result, I think I figured out what he did to get the figure he's stressing out about. Of course, he's out tomorrow so I can't explain it to him.

After the initial flurry of e-mails and a phone call, I thought I should go into the office tomorrow, because ... I'm not sure. I know I'm not going to feel a ton better and it's also going to be cold as fuck. Also, my boss is out tomorrow. So I'm not going to stress too much about it. Because, you know, work stress is exactly what you need when you're fucking sick. What the fuck would have happened if I'd *gasp* taken an actual sick day?

I'm not even feeling that bad about skipping the gym two nights in a row. I've eaten about half as much as I might normally eat today, I think. So, if I'm not eating the calories I'd burn at the gym, it's a wash, right? Unfortunately, I feel a bit less hydrated (okay, over-hydrated) than I might be if I was at work, too. But I'm more comfortable, and that means a lot when you're sick.

That seals it. Unless I wake up feeling amazing tomorrow, I'm working from home again. My coworkers should appreciate my keeping my contagious ass out of there. Of course, when I go back on Friday sounding like Lunch Lady Doris (or Ma, for you Soup watchers), they'll tell me I sound terrible. But what can you do?

17 January 2012

Non-stop snot machine.

Holy Jesus. I swear I have not stopped sneezing or blowing my nose all. damn. day.

Oh, I was getting so haughty about my lack of a cold or any other ailment ALL WINTER. Then, we get a sick sales guy in the office last week and I have a wine-soaked, sleep-deprived weekend and I end up sick. Dammit all to hell.

I shouldn't have even been at the office today, probably. But Chicken Little was out, so I had to be there. Tomorrow will be a different story. I'm definitely working from home (I sneeze a bit less here), and maybe even TAKING A SICK DAY. I know. It sounds so fancy and decadent.

Probably I should go to bed now. Hopefully I'll sleep until my alarm goes off, unlike today, when I woke up a good hour or 90 minutes earlier. Seriously? C'mon!

16 January 2012

Isn't it ironic?

I got into work this morning (yeah) and opened my e-mail to find a breathless missive from the CEO announcing an exciting new thing! A day off for volunteering; to help us engage in service to the community. On the National Day of Service. When we're working. Seriously? Did no one see the irony there?

Sure, I'm annoyed that I had to work today when it seemed like everyone else had the day off. I know that's not fully true. I can count on nearly two hands the number of people I knew of who were also at work. THAT'S CRAZY.

The thing is, though, we get President's Day off. Why would we get that if we don't get Martin Luther King Day off? A coworker and I were talking about it and he phrased it pretty well -- today, for people of our generation and those around us -- it's so much closer and actually means something to many of us. I know lots of my coworkers were alive when Dr. King was assassinated. And his message certainly resonates with most of us.

It just seems wrong to honor the old, dead white guys while we treat today like any other work day. I'd rather we work both days if we have to work today. I don't understand it.

Then to throw this "Day of Service" thing out on today of all days ... it just feels so wrong. If they're so intent on us using a day for community service, why not give us today off, but only if we participate in a service project? Apparently group service projects need approval. So, we can go out and do a single day of service on our own. But building team spirit by doing good work? Not bloody likely, motherfuckers. And since we're all always so successful about taking vacation days, I'm sure scheduling a day of volunteering is going to work out great.

I'm certainly going to try to take my day. Pro-Choice Resources often has volunteer opportunities during the day that I can't do, so maybe I'll take a shift at the State Fair, or do some data entry. But we can't do anything political. I wonder what they consider "political." Maybe I'll work at my polling place this year ...

15 January 2012

Comin' down.

Oh man. I feel like I need another day to come down from this weekend. Unfortunately, I'm not one of those people whose company includes Martin Luther King day on their holiday calendar. There is a bonus, though, to my having to work tomorrow. Wells Fargo is a bank, so the "ladies" on our floor will not be around tomorrow, fucking up the bathrooms.

Friday night with M&M on the lake was so fun. I met some great people and drank so much fucking wine. Like, almost two bottles. Granted, it was over the course of almost eight hours, so I didn't have much of a hangover when I got up on Saturday. Yeah, I went to bed around 4:00 a.m. Wheeeeeeee! One of the more awesome aspects of the visit to the lake was the fact that most of us woke up to the smell of bacon. It was someone else cooking the bacon I'd brought up from the farm. I went down and ate some and got some coffee. Then I brought up some bacon to The Boy I Currently Like. He at it in bed. He's got a pretty good life.

The rest of the weekend was PUPPYTASTIC. Oh my goodness, y'all. Sadie is so freakin' adorable. We bonded pretty well. She apparently cried when I left. She would whine when I left the room and she followed me around. She'll be fine, though. She was following my dad all over the place, too. Pretty soon, he'll be her world.

Another interesting thing came up while I was at home. I found out my sister told my parents about The Boy I Currently Like. I suppose it's good that it is out there, now. But where the fuck does she get off, telling my parents about him? I'm pissed, yet I take some solace in the fact that Sadie peed on her floor twice yesterday. My sister doesn't like animals -- though, she grudgingly admitted Sadie was pretty cute. She didn't want Sadie in her house. So, I'm kinda pleased Sadie pissed on her floors twice. Oh, and on her deck at least once. Sucker.

Now, please to enjoy Sadie tackling her monkey.

14 January 2012


Sadie is here! I just took her out for her last potty of the night and put her in her kennel. She whined and barked for a minute or two, but that was it. She's had a long day.

Truth be told, I was kinda hoping she'd make more noise so we could go with dad's original plan, which was to have her sleep next to my bed tonight.

Oh well. Plenty more cuddling time tomorrow before I head back home.

12 January 2012

Executive Decision AFFIRMED.

Because I did not go to the gym, I watched the Minnesota Golden Gopher basketball team beat the No. 8 team in the nation, the Indiana Hoosiers, on their home court. I MADE AN EXCELLENT DECISION. Also, Ski-U-Mah!

Executive decision

I decided not to go to yoga tonight for a number of reasons, among them: I'm tired and expecting to get to bed within two hours (at best) of walking in the door from the gym is pretty unreasonable. I know yoga is supposed to be all relaxing and shit, and I may relax during Savasana, but I'm not going to be tired when I get home. It's just not me.

So, I decided to take at least one step to set myself up for success. I may very well stay up too late, but maybe I won't. Also, I had plenty of shit to do tonight. Tomorrow after work, The Boy I Currently Like and I are going to a winter weekend party a bit outside of the city, hosted by M&M. This means I have shit to pack up. I don't really know what I'm going to need, and I want to take as little stuff as possible, so I have to pack smart.

Oh, but that's not all I'm packing for. You may remember something about A PUPPY. I'm heading to the farm after a layover in the metro to hang with my new li'l puppy friend. So there's packing required there. And I didn't want to pack it all together, because then I'd look like I was over-packing for both. So I'll just pack two separate bags and look like a crazy person in a different way. YAY!

Then there's the TV. I wanted to watch the NBC Thursday night shows (I've missed 30 Rock so, but c'mon, NBC BRING BACK COMMUNITY). Plus the NBA studio show (got to hear Shaq say "shit" as they were going to commercial. Delightful!) and I'm currently watch the Gophers give No. 8 Indiana everything they can handle in Assembly Hall.

I still feel a bit crappy for skipping the gym, but I'll live with it. It's gonna be a late night tomorrow and a lot of driving and doing stuff and not relaxing. Pretty sure I made the right decision.

And let me remind you -- we're at about T-MINUS ONE DAY 'TIL PUPPY. Oh my God, y'all! I can barely stand it.

Gym Teabaggers

Below is the post I wanted to load last night, but for whatever reason, Blogger refuses to work on my computer at home. Awesome. I went through a stretch like that a few weeks ago, but it tended to work on Firefox and not Chrome. It's now not working on either. And I apparently have changed over to the new interface, which I hated when I tried it the first time. But it doesn't appear that I can change back now. Fun! Anyway, here's all the angry shit I wrote last night when I got home from the gym. 

Let's be clear right up front -- this isn't about what you think it will be about. I'm using the term "teabagger" as a pejorative for members of the Tea Party. And I'm using that to paint a picture of the selfish dickweeds at the gym.

These people are possibly different from the Resolutionaries, but maybe not entirely. I know for a fact this shit was going on in November and December, so clearly it's not totally the fault of the goddamn newbies.

Tonight, I was on the ellipticals, which are behind the row of treadmills. From my vantage point, I could see two different women who had been on their treadmills for more than 20 minutes. One of them had a pillar in front of her with THREE signs saying "20 minute limit when people are waiting."

As it happens, there were about six people in line waiting for treadmills. On my way back from getting paper towels and cleaning foam for my elliptical (they were all full, so I stopped at 20 minutes, because I'M NOT AN ASSHOLE), I counted a total of at least five people who were past the 20-minute limit. There were at least that many people in line, waiting for a machine.

Why do these people get to ignore the rules? Or guidelines, or whatever the fuck they are? What makes them better than anyone else? Why should people have to wait longer for them to finish?

I came so close to walking in front of those girls and pointing at the signs, then pointing at the line of people. But why should I have to police the assholes at the gym? It's certainly not my job. Besides, I had stuff to do myself. Also, I'm pretty sure public shaming wouldn't do a goddamn thing.

So this is where my teabagger analogy comes in. It came to me while I was fuming over these oblivious or selfish douchenozzles that they're like these "Tea Party Patriots." They have a very strong "I got mine, so fuck you" attitude. Their brand of government assistance is different -- better, somehow -- than yours. They made their way in the world without anyone's help (yeah, right), so why should they give anything extra to anyone else? They got that treadmill first and they'll stay on it as long as they want.

The gym doesn't seem to be doing much to alleviate my stress level tonight.

11 January 2012

Rethinking today's post.

I had a post fully written about the dicks at the gym who stay on treadmills and other cardio equipment for longer than the 20-minute limit when people are waiting. But I wrote it all and then Blogger wouldn't work for me in either Google or Firefox.

So here I am, trying to swype this out on my wee phone keyboard. I'm over it now, I guess.

What is more important is that we are T-minus THREE days until PUPPY TIME. Y'all, I can't wait. But before we can do that, The Boy I Currently Like and I are going to M&M's family cabin for a little winter weekend fun. Can't wait for that either.

09 January 2012

Hair today ...

Is that the right "hair" for the joke? Or is it "hare?" I can't remember the fucking joke. Oh wait, is it "Little Rabbit Foo Foo?"

Whatever. I got my hair did today. That's what this is all about. That means a 150-mile round trip of driving, but a very affordable cut, color and eyebrow wax in between. Today, it also meant an afternoon off work on a sunny, unseasonably warm day. So, I think I win!

It's always lovely to see The Stylist, and she does a great job on my hair. Since she apparently had time today, she did my hair after the color and cut. She straightened it and then put a few big, fat curls back in.

She was lovely to do so, 'cause I was meeting my parents for dinner right after my appointment. Today is my mom's birthday, so I took them out to dinner. HELLS YEAH.

Of course, my dad actually noticed my hair tonight. I can think of one other occasion where that happened. I got a horrible, terrible, god-fucking-awful cut at the Aveda advanced training institute. Both my dad and my brother commented on my hair. Oh, it was awful. But tonight, my dad just noticed that it was shorter. Not that it was straight, but the whopping handful of times I've had my hair straightened, very few people have noticed. Still, I'm impressed dad noticed my hair was shorter at all.

When I returned to MSP, I decided I would go to the gym, despite being tired and all that. My workout was going great -- I got an elliptical machine without waiting. I got to 23:50 before I noticed all the ellipticals were full and that someone was possibly wanting to use one. So I got off the machine and went to an open(!) treadmill. I wasn't on very long before I felt a pain in my foot, between the base of my middle toe and the ball of my foot. It hurt to touch it once I got my shoe off. DAMMIT.

I was mad at the guy (who never did use the machine) and at myself for even going to the gym. But I stopped pretty quickly after the pain started. It hurt while walking after and it hurt to touch the area still after I got home. It seems a lot better now, though. So maybe it was just a weird little tweak thing? I'm crossing my fingers.

08 January 2012

Puppy Watch 2012.

We are less than a week away from the new puppy coming home, y'all. OH MY GOD. I'm so excited. I am unsure as to when I will be meeting the new puppy. The Boy I Currently Like and I were supposed to go to a friend's family lake place for a big MLK weekend blow out. However, his sister is coming to Chicago and he might end up going to see her and his dad.

I'm going to meet the new puppy this weekend regardless. I think the matter up in the air is whether I go with my dad to get her or not. And I'm going to the farm Saturday night to hang out with her for a bit on Sunday. YAY!

But it's not like I'm lacking for canine interaction. I got to see my buddies Arlo and Jethro on Wednesday when I brought food over for W&J. Then yesterday, I got some surprise dog-petting. I was at Jiffy Lube and a dude walked in with his shitty little dog (I'm not sure what breed, but it was small with curly hair). That dog made a fucking beeline for me. Apparently, she was mad at her owner for making her wear booties (poor thing!). She snuggled all up next to me and let me pet the crap out of her. Yay!

I can't believe my weekend is done and gone already. That short work week was tough -- going back to a regular work week was bad enough, but having to change up my gym schedule made things worse. And our company doesn't recognize MLK day, so I don't have a short week until next month. I'm sure I'll readjust back into the routine shortly ... I hope.

For what it's worth, I am trying to work myself back into schedule now. I did laundry and am working on this week's lunch. I made a lamb stew recommended by KayGee (it is very close to this recipe). Of course, I still have Italian tuna salad that I made last week (I don't know how you get four servings from that shit, Rachael Ray -- I'm at that and have at least half of it left). Seems like I should be okay food-wise this week. It's the small things, right?

And now, I've gotta watch some dogs that appeared on 60 Minutes tonight that are truffle hunters.

05 January 2012

The short weeks are always the longest.

I'm fairly certain this is universally true. The effect is amplified if you're coming back from several days off work. It's a bunch of bullshit. That's what it is.

The stupid thing is I'm not even really busy this week. I'm trying to embrace that, because over the last couple of years, I've worked far more than I needed to in order to meet my billable goals and all that. I mean, I gave back vacation time last year and the year before that.

And I didn't get much of a reward for doing that last year. I doubt it'll get much or any better this year. But I'm still starting to get a bit concerned because, I haven't had much work to do. What if I don't meet my goal? What if we're slowing down too much? GAH.

Thankfully, I made it to yoga tonight and none of that matters much right now. I went to the late class and it wasn't too crowded. The class right before was crazy full, though. It was full to the point that the instructor had to change her routine, because there wasn't enough room for people to do some poses.

By the time I got to the gym at 7:30, there were a few machines open. Well, ellpitical machines, anyway. It looked like there was a line for the treadmills. One delightful thing I noticed was a large white board on an easel right in front of the treadmills reiterating the "20 minute limit on cardio equipment while people are waiting," message that is posted in plenty of other places in the gym. There was even a helpful hint to run uphill or faster with your shortened time.

Not that anyone is going to heed the message (besides me and a few others), but I appreciate the effort.

I actually dozed briefly during Savasana. It's nice to be that relaxed (also that tired). Though, I'm a bit concerned because I felt like I was super wide-awake after that. I'm hoping this wine helps me calm down and get to sleep at a reasonable hour ...

04 January 2012


Oh man. The goddamn New Year's Resolutioners/Gymmigrants/Resolutionaries have already fucked my life up. And it was really only one day (I didn't go to the gym on Jan. 1 and I went during the day on Jan. 2).

Because of all the oblivious newbies at the gym, I went late last night. I went to the Wedge late, got home late and went to bed really late. Waking up at 4:00 a.m. didn't help matters any. I figured if I was still awake at 5:30/6:00 a.m., I would just get up and go to the gym. But I fell asleep somewhere around 5:00.

So, today, I was kind of the walking dead. Staring at my computer today made me so tired. And here it is 10:05, and I'm falling asleep. Fuck that shit. Next week I really might have to work out in the mornings. Working until 7:00 at night won't be as bad as coming home from the gym at 9:30, right? It seems like it makes sense right now, BUT I'M SO TIRED.

As it turns out, my concentration is waning. I'm bummed the Wolves and Gophers lost tonight. But I had a lovely visit with W&J and their doggies. Baby H was sleeping the whole time I was there, though. C'mon, tiny infant! Wake up when I'm at your house! Guess I'll just have to go see her later.

Okay, time to lay down now.

03 January 2012

It could have gone better.

Going back to the grind wasn't as delightful as you might have thought it would be today. Oh wait, no one in their right mind would expect going back to real life after several days off would be delightful.

The actual work part of work was fine. I'm working on something for my boss and it's not terribly pressing. Though, I want to have it done tomorrow. Fortunately, I don't have anything else going on yet. That's troublesome, as it turns out. 'Cause, while I'm not an attorney, I still have to get a certain amount of billable hours per month. But I have to remember that it is highly likely everything will even out over the course of the year.

Other work things were considerably more awful. The bathroom was a nightmare -- stalls without toilet paper, yet toilet paper all over the floors. There was plenty of paper toweling all over the floor, too. What the fuck is wrong with these people?

I'm so not nearly ready for bed. I didn't get home tonight until well after 9:00. Didn't get into the shower until about 10:30. In that time, I somehow managed to slosh recently-boiled water down my front while mixing up some tuna salad. I'm not terribly burned or anything. It's just that hurts-when-I-get-hot-water-on-it thing going on. Still. Goddammit.

Since it was so late, I didn't bother doing dishes. A sink full of dirty dishes stresses me out, but it was getting so late. And it's not like the sink is completely full.

My trip to the co-op to get the rest of my supplies for my tuna salad was a bit stressful, as I was SO FUCKING HUNGRY. Of course, once I get a chance to eat, I have a turkey stick and a couple of multigrain chips. This is why my fridge needs to be full of food. Sometimes I hate myself so much.

Thankfully, as I'm sitting here typing, I'm starting to get tired. So maybe I won't be up all night. The gym wasn't terrible tonight, but all the treadmills were full at like, 8:20. That's late. The 7:45 yoga class was packed to the gills. I hope the Thursday version is less busy.

Here's to the continued reintegration to the working world getting better tomorrow.

02 January 2012

Oh, hello, New Year.

I meant to blog on New Year's Eve. I meant to blog yesterday. But, well, I just didn't get around to it. Saturday got away from me. Yesterday, once I got home from The Boy I Currently Like's house, I fell into a basketball and reading hole. When I emerged at 2:00 a.m., I figured I should go to bed.

New Year's Eve was delightful, even with the cab drama. I was having so much fun and wasn't tired that I didn't even look at my clock until like, oh, I'm gonna say well after 2:00. Possibly close to 3:00, to check with The Boy to see if we should be calling a cab. And by "we" I mean me. Rainbow Cab said it would 40 minutes when I finally got through.

After about an hour and 20 minutes I started trying again and, ooops! They forgot us. Or something. They said it would be 30 minutes. I also called Blue & White. They said it would be way longer, and that I needed to call every 20 minutes to stay in the system. Blue & White ended up calling in like 15 or 20 minutes and in the rush, I forgot to call Rainbow and cancel. Yeah, I was an asshole in that respect. A drunk, tired asshole. The Boy ended up fielding the call from the driver when we were home and I was getting ready for bed. It was nearly 50 minutes later. How the fuck were we to think they didn't forget us again? I'm probably banned for life or something now.

Anyway, it was a seriously awesome night. M&M have such great parties. And, while there were many people missing from the previous couple of years' parties, there were plenty of the same lovely folks there.

So now I have to go back to work. Right now, my work plate is mostly empty, so I should be able to ease back into things. I could be, and probably am, terribly wrong about that. But who knows? On the one hand, I'm sad to be going back to all the annoyances of work. On the other hand, routine is good for me.

Not that I didn't have a routine while I was on vacation. I barely feel like I relaxed/lazed about at all. Apparently, I opted to do that my last two days. I'm trying to decide if I should just watch TV or go back to my book. I read until 2:00 last night, though, so maybe it would be better if I vegged to the idiot box.

Then there's the gym. It was really busy late last week during the day and was awfully busy in the early afternoon today. I'm toying with the idea of going in the morning. I mean, I generally get to work after 9:00 as it is. How much worse would it be if I showed up at 10:00? I mean, I'd be home by 7:00 at the latest. That's got to be better than getting home from the gym after 9:00 and then staying up so late because I can't come down from the workout high.

I don't know ... I'll see how things go the next few days.

Oh, and lest I be remiss: your (okay, my) Minnesota Timberwolves have won back-to-back games on back-to-back nights. Last night's win was over the defending NBA champs. Fuck and yes! I'm considering asking my siblings to go to a Wolves game instead of out to dinner for my birthday. I think it's a great idea.