It’s coming…

October 3, 2007 is the date.

I may not have a ton of readers – I average about 40-60 hits a day – but come on, you gotta say something. Schmutzie and a few others have decided to have a delurk day. And since I’m a follower, of course I’m going to join.

In and out…

Sometimes we hold things in so much that even speaking of it hurts. But we believe that if we keep it inside, it won’t be able to touch those around us, those that we love. Then it has to come out because it festers. And those that we love are exposed to this horribleness. A reaction occurs. We prepare for the worse, bracing ourselves for retribution or retaliation. Only love appears in its place. And the wound starts to heal.

The most romantic thing…

B: When you grabbed my butt, I farted.

Ahhh the things he says that melts my heart.

Spoiled…

One of my congratulatory gifts from B for getting a new job: My apartment getting cleaned by the cleaning lady.

It was one of the luxuries I put an end to once I was laid off. Hell, I’m home. I’m not above cleaning. I may not enjoy it or sing songs while cleaning and have vermin assisting me as I flounce about in a cleaning musical number but I can scrub a counter and sweep the floor. And, I actually have kind of enjoyed it. It was my daily work, a bit of purpose to the mundane.

But, I have come to realize that I hate cleaning the bathroom. The tub and I, we’re not good friends when I have to bend over and scour away at the tile and soap scum. And,then I try to straighten myself out and we have whole new set of issues. Since my back is the equivalent to a rebellious teenager, not wanting to work half the time, getting up takes a good five minutes with several maneuvers of hand placement, foot positioning, grunting, groaning and finally success. And, I’m not even 30. YAY! (Can you imagine me in 10 years – good times, good times.) I have found various ways to clean the bathroom without having to put myself back in positions of discomfort but they are ineffective and time consuming. Hence MY gift!

So, I’m typing. The lovely cleaning lady is cleaning. And, you’re reading. Everybody’s happy!

3 am…

And, I’m still awake writing this blog. (My ode to Anna Nalick.)

Even though things are getting settled in my life, it appears that my insomnia friend wanted to remind me who was in charge of my sleep cycle. Obviously not me. I’m very much awake but not cognitive, having to reread some of my favorite bloggers posts multiple times to get the gist of the joke. And, I apologize if any of the comments left were inane, inappropriate, incomprehensible, etc. If they were funny and complete sense, you were one of the lucky. I have no idea why I feel the need to speak my mine when it’s not fully functional, but I am writing a post about my ability to sucketh when working with only three hours of sleep.

Thankfully, this time of undead comes before the job starts. Which I don’t have an official start date because I am waiting on an official offer. It also looks like I’m going to have another offer to contend with from my old company, back in the land of Elvis. It appears that they got word of my freedom from the job that took me away from them and they are ecstatic. Except they don’t want to pay to move me back. That, my friend, doesn’t make me ecstatic. It would cost me and B a nice chunk of change move. Yes, B would go with, we’re a package deal. It appears that we’ll be making some heavy decisions soon, in case the second offer is appealing enough that we’re willing to shell out that kind of investment of a move. It’s gotta have a really good return on investment, that’s the deal maker or breaker.

Alas, we’ll make decisions when both of us have plenty of sleep in our system. And, as of right now, with my current sleep habits, that’s not happening.

Happy…

He is…

- Wonderful
- Caring
- Thoughtful
- Fabulous
- Loving

Happy 33rd Birthday B! I’m glad that I get to celebrate with you.

Love,

Me

Painful memories…

B and I went to a wing/sports bar/incredibly loud place this evening to partake in the revelry that is college football. When I was a bit heftier, I had no issue inhaling food that was only cooked in a deep vat of lard. Wings, rings, sticks, tots, etc., met my lips and stayed on my hips. I was in fat girl heaven.

Tonight, I tried to bring back some of that love and realized that my stomach has gotten use to fresh veggies and minimal oils. The tummy is now on strike and taking my other internal organs with it in the revolt. I’m going to give in to it’s requests and not repeat the fried overload. And, tomorrow, we go to the Astro’s game. Yeah, I think the revolution is going to be a war soon.

Finally…

Things are tying up. Loose ends squared away. And guess who is going to be an officer of a company? A HUGE COMPANY? Yeah, me. I’m braggin’. What’s so funny is Deb totally called it with her headhunter statement when I first got laid off. Those headhunters KNOW when to start calling.

It was weird because for three days straight, that’s what all of my calls were. I kept thinking, “How did you people get my number?” One call in particular got my interest so I went on the interview. Jumped through the hoops. Wore my suit, which unfortunately was too big – need to get it tailored. I thought I was being presented an Analyst position. No clue that it was a high ranking dealio.

Now, I’m going to be gainfully employed as an Assistant Vice President. Yeah, I’m shaking my AVP booty in joy!

Mixed up post… (not for the squeamish)

Alright, disconnected post…Fair warning…

I’ve got a lot to say. Really, I do. I just can’t. I know I keep posting stuff that pseudo-mysterious. I’m just waiting for answers as much as you guys are waiting for me to post something. Okay, I know you’re not really waiting but I like to think that I have one or two people on edge.

In other news, I get to stab the cat three times a week. Please, don’t report me to the HSPCA, it’s for her own good. Sassy had to get subcutaneous IV treatments three times a week to help her kidneys repair from the infection that she had. Unfortunately, that puts both mommy and daddy on the Sassy La Rue Shit List on Monday, Wednesday and Fridays. We’ve all gotten use to the process of giving her injections and we don’t get nearly as much hissing and moaning as we did the first time. And, I’ve gotten a lot more confident in putting a needle into my cat.

And, in final news, I’ve had several interviews. One job, I’d really like to get the happy call of “We’d like to offer you the position…” I’m waiting and it’s not helping the not eating part but I just got done with the last round of interviews. Now, my fate is in the hands of middle management. Hire me, I’m cute!

Waiting on…

My stomach and I are not in a battle per se but we’re not really on speaking terms. I want to eat, I do. I just don’t want to eat. If that makes sense. I’ve been cooking dinner a lot lately and typically, left overs are my favorite meal the next day. Now, dinner is my only meal of the day. I can ignore breakfast and lunch. I get the typical hunger pains but I have no motivation to eat. That is completely not typical for me. When I’m down I don’t eat at all, forcing myself to nibble. I don’t feel down, I just feel eh. This is how my body reacts to eh.

One of the causation is my penchant to worry over the cat. Sassy hasn’t been eating as much either and I get concerned because of all the issues we’ve been having with her. She’s very active and has a crack addiction to the laser pointer but she’s sticking her nose up at food as well. Maybe she’s living vicariously through me.

The other thing that may be putting me off of food is all the balls that are up in the air. I’m waiting for them to land and to see in what order. Both B and I are anxiously looking forward to this next part of our lives but other people are in control right now. Tomorrow might bring us great news. And, yeah, I’d like to be able have an interest in food again.

Edit: Yeah, you can tell I hadn’t been eating because I used the word ‘typical’ four times in one paragraph. I’m off to buy my hungry self a thesaurus.