Gets me every time.
Dear Me,
I just sent myself an email with an important message as the subject line. I’m going to do that every day, first thing in the morning when I’m organizing my other tasks. That way, since I have my email open and am using it all day anyway, I will see that one-liner and it will be my mantra for the day. See? Whaddaya think?
I just know that when I put on my other jeans on Saturday, I thought I had the wrong pair. They’re too darn tight. dagnabbit. I have another pair one size larger, I know I do… but I couldn’t find them. Oh, I could breath fairly well and everything, but not as comfortable as they were about a year ago. And I had to wear a looser shirt so you couldn’t see the blobbage over the waistline. Damn bread.
skinny fingers
To help compensate for my recent change of work routine (sitting vs running), I have throttled back on my carb consumption. I am a carbohydrate addict… more specifically, a bread addict… a Brownberry Oatnut addict. I was eating about 3-4 slices a night. I know that might not sound like a big deal, but add that up, nite after nite – late at nite – plus, the act of doing it… against promises to myself, not in control, stuff like that, it was a big deal. For me. Not to mention, even though the nutritional value is not bad, there are still calories that add up, and calories = lbs = weight. Which brings me back to the sitting vs running.
I need to exercise more. My key-typing fingers are fine, it’s the rest of me that is getting fat. I have gained 20 lbs in the last year or so (whoops, can’t use the job change for an excuse, can I?), but I predict a growth if I don’t change my routine. You heard it here folks. Gee, maybe I could turn this into a “my weight-loss-diary” kind o’ blog, and post lovely progress pho-tos… mmm, no. Although I must say, personally, I enjoy looking at before and after pics when I need a little motivation once in awhile…. ANYway, that’s not gonna happen here.
So I started eating my sugar-free popsicles again. I ate them a-l-l-l the time a couple of years ago, hence the popsicle eating kittykitty. They’re perfect when I get a sweet attack. Problem is, and I remember it now, is that my innards seem to have a problem with the Splenda if I consume too much… it bubbles and rumbles all over the place. So I think moderation is the key even with the popsicles.
Shoot. It’s 0700 already. I got up at 0500 so I could get an early start with work, and I’ve putzed around all morning so far. dagnabbit. Hey, did Philly win? OH, that’s right, rained out. I think it was on purpose. Yup, a pre-arrangement with Mother Nature and the TV station… gotta keep the World Series on, more money more money. Geesh, I gotta GO! xoxo
ain’t no college student
I pulled an all-niter last nite. I couldn’t help it… underestimated the amount of work involved in getting a site up and running by dawn. EVERYthing, the whole promo, the participants, the fans, all depended on *ME* getting the site where it was supposed to be, on time. My client’s publicist stayed up with me, remotely, and provided comic relief… it really wasn’t that bad. But every time she would send me an updated Book Ranking for the hour, it would freak me out.
My point is, other than the fact that I’m getting too old to be staying up all nite like that anymore, is that this project was for an author, and it blows my mind that with this promo, her book went from an Amazon book ranking of 40,000 24 hrs ago, to a book ranking of 16 about 10 minutes ago. Isn’t that cool? Amazing what a little marketing can do, hmm?
Sooo, took a little nappy early this afternoon, and actually don’t feel as badly as I thought I would. In fact I even did some house cleaning when I woke up. I am noticing quite a bit of short circuiting tonite though. wow. ya. Like now. Brain cells? yoooo-hooooooo.
so-called social networking
I’m a social person, sure I am. As opposed to a recluse? Non-social? And I can honestly say that I am now trying out Twitter mainly as umm… research. For a client. No, really. Because if I was doing it entirely for myself, I wouldn’t. Out of all of them… all of the current public displays of myself on the web, I think that Twitter has the greatest potential for making me feel the most ridiculous, in-ept, and the biggest social-outcast of them all. Good grief! Talk about feeling lonely! BUT, yes, I’m learning… I’m learning that I don’t like it.
:)
But what’s rather cool, but another time waster, is Blip… kinda fun to go through other’s playlists to discover new music. Yes, I know one can do that through many different venues…
ANYway. Must pick up the mumster momentarily… have a great Sunday all!
tweet.
Lucky Day
Yay! Rosie puked today. Exactly 1 week and 2 days after she ate dad-in-law’s sock, she threw it up. *blurp* and there it was. 9 days since she swallowed it whole and it came out looking pretty much the same as when it went it. What the heck? Of course we freaked out after we found out she ate it last Saturday.
Jim came in the house and noticed something flopping out of her mouth, so he reached in and pulled out a long, black, nylon sock of his dads – it was already half-way down her throat. We looked around for the other one and never found it so we assumed she had already eaten it. After double checking with our vet, we just sat it out, waiting for it to appear out of the other end, or for any change in her eating or drinking behavior… or anything out of the ordinary.
For the last 9 days, she has been eating, drinking, pooping, barking, playing and doing everything totally normal, so we questioned whether she even ate the darn thing, even though we never did find it anywhere. And then today. There it was, as smooth as can be – taa-daa. One slightly-slimy black nylon sock.
Seriously, how could that have happened? It had to have stayed IN her stomach and not passed into her bowel/intestines, but how could she eat? Why didn’t she get sick? It just blows my mind, really. I know that we were very, very lucky that nothing worse happened to our little RosieRosie girl. (and yes, I know it was kinda weird that I took a picture of the sock, but it wasn’t too gross).
