I am a slug.

Aforementioned new job means that i can get up later. And means that i have more energy in the evening.

And, to my credit, i did come home and do some cleaning.

But i did not work out.

And i ate WAY more of the trail mix that i brought to work than I should've. WAY more.

so i'm feeling gross. and it's too late to work out.

which would be okay if i didn't aspire to be buff-er and svelt-er by the time summer rolls around. but i do. and it's a-comin.

i gave up meat for Lent, and maybe the binge is a result of not getting enough protein?
or maybe i should've given up all of those magazines that show a beautiful land where cellulite doesn't exist, and if wrinkles arise they can be airbrushed out...

or maybe, just maybe, i need to back away from the trail mix and go walking tomorrow morning.


Stop! Jammie time!

Another evening zoned in front of the tube. I know that new routines take some getting used to, but I'm whupped!

A little bit of popcorn, a sudoku before bed, and clean sheets....aaaahhhh.

It's finally official. [Finally - HAH!] I am both old and lame.

and lovin' it.


first day on the job

I like my job! Wheee!

I walked in, and my new boss had a vase with tulips for me on my desk. The work is good and interesting. My office window (Office! MY office! I've never had one all to myself!) overlooks the woods [a rarity in a metropolitan area!] and it was blissfully quiet. Aaahhh. As much as I love the kids I taught, I didn't have to hush ONE SINGLE PERSON ALL DAY. Nirvana.

[this from the woman who shushed so much she stopped realizing she was shushing.]

In less happy news, hubby is finishing up grad school and is stressed to the max with work and school obligations. Only 3 months to go (HALLELUJAH!), but I think that the end stretch is the hardest. I wish that I could do more to help than make dinner and rub his feet. (gross, but cultivates awesome good will!) When I daydream about winning the lottery, my favorite part of the daydream [even better than the "Only a million dollars? Heck, I'll take TWO!] is walking in to Hubby's office and telling him that he can quit because he has become, officially, a kept man. THAT, my friends, would be awesome.



Happy birthday, blog!

Eat all the cake you want!

It seems like a good time to start writing as I'll start a new job tomorrow.

It's my first office job in 10 years, and it occurs to me that I have no idea what to wear. I was contemplating buying something new, but couldn't bring myself to enter a mall on a Sunday afternoon. [And I need to get my roots done....hmmm. I really am more excited about this job than my appearance tomorrow might suggest!]

I had the great good fortune at my last job to work with an old friend. Often our conversations revolved around ways in which we could leave a job in a hugely flamboyant manner...not something that we could be arrested for, but something that would certainly burn us into the institutional fabric for many years. The best idea centered around scuba gear, pickup basketball and nudity. Oh yeah.

So wish me luck, Internet, on the eve of The Next Big Thing. I promise I'll leave the snorkel at home.

At least for the first week.