Thursday, May 31, 2012

From one of my two fifteen minute breaks today

I was asked if I wanted to help create new labels for the in bins in my former department. Yes, yes I did want to.

Sunday, May 27, 2012

Summah Time

Hello again. Have I mentioned that the AC in my car no longer works? It is, and this is just a rough guesstimate, approximately 743 degrees in my car this afternoon (+/- ten degrees F of course). Naturally, the 90 degree weather we are suffering having isn't helping things at. all. I just took a quick trip to the pet store and the grocery store and I am covered in a fine sheen of sweat and bad attitude. I despise heat. What ever happened to winter? Why didn't we have one this year? Where is my icy beverage and palm frond fan fanners? And I don't want to hear it Hunter, BFF, or Teacher's Wife... I know you all live in places that are much hotter than Columbus but you've each made a lifestyle decision that includes RedNeck Heat, Cracker Country, and The Fucking Desert, respectively. I, on the other hand, should be skipping through fields of flowers enjoying a spring time breeze.

Did I tell you that I have a new friend at work? Yep, Golden Rod*, and we are uncannily alike. She's been at the company for about a month but I didn't start talking to her until she'd completed almost two full weeks. In fact, when Jilly Bean brought GR around to introduce her, I said something like "you'll never really work with me so it doesn't matter who I am. Also, I sit in the hinterlands so there's no need to come all the way over for an introduction." Later I emailed JB and said "I should have told you before; never introduce me to people" because for some strange reason, I am incapable of handling it appropriately and generally make new hires feel uncomfortable or insulted.

In this case, I made myself a liar because GR did have to work with me because I needed to train her on taking minutes at the external meeting downtown and so we met for 30 minutes during which time I told her about the players and the dynamics and what was important to take down etc. She accompanied me to the meeting earlier this month and, afterwards, we went out for breakfast where we got to chatting. It was after I commented on my ridiculous love for gossip - "I just collect it, I don't do anything with it, I just want the knowledge" - that GR said "me too" and I immediately asked "when's your birthday?" "December 21," she replied, "I'm a Sagittarius." It was love from that moment on over our mushroom omelets and coffee. I firmly believe that Sagittarians delight in one another more than any other sign and Golden Rod and I were both very pleased to find we had that in common. We have a lot in common, actually, so much so that she commented on how nice it is to not be the only one. My retort was "yeah, but it is a bit disturbing to have another me in the world." She agreed. Naturally.

But she's lovely and funny and smart and I like everything about her and I'm so happy to have a new friend in the office. OK, so she may have assessed me rather quickly and decided that I suffer from PTSD but that just makes her more fun. She isn't the first to suggest it (I told you about the dead mouse on Service Day, didn't I?) but she is the first to make me actually consider it. Evidently one of the symptoms is denial of having experienced trauma. As I said to Golden Rod "really? I thought that was just something I did that pisses my mother off". It's true, mom frequently gets upset with me for downplaying anything bad, going so far as to make me tear up and/or cry in public when she recounts some horribly maudlin story about me and my youth or telling neurologists that no, no she is not OK, she's terribly affected by her marital separation and the news of this disease.

I told Hunter about that. His wife actually suffers from PTSD and has what I consider a real reason to suffer from it (she was attacked). I told him that whether or not I have it is sort of a moot issue. Either I don't and I continue on or I do and I have done for a long time without treatment. Treatment for me, by the way - again, based on a conversation with Golden Rod who in no way claims to be a clinician - is to basically feel the fear and do it anyway. Not. Bloody. Likely. Still, it's nice to think that I jump three inches to the left of my skin seven times a day and that I have weird public anxiety because maybe there is something wrong with me and not, you know, Cat is just a big old ball of freak.

So you can see why I like the woman. I'm biased, of course I am, because she is a Sagittarius and because she is a phenomenal minutes taker and because she knows what the fuck synesthesia is. I've even invited her to the next Broad Summit (after nominating her to the others and getting approval, of course) and I think she'll be a fine part of the pack. Whilst discussing not always wanting to be the bigger person, she said "oh, I know. I just drink and talk about people behind their backs." What is not to love? Tell me that.

That's all I really have, I'm afraid. It is hotter than fuck and I don't like it and I'm eating terrible food in preparation to begin dieting on June 1. Why June 1st? I don't know, it's the start of the month and because it is getting so hot that I can't keep eating my beloved fried foods and pizza. Plus, I may take a short trip in July and it's always nice to feel light and healthy and vaguely attractive when traveling, especially in the summer, the god awful why must it be this fucking bright summer. That and it really is about time I grew up when it comes to food and health and all things grown up, isn't it? However, I have a few days left so please excuse me whilst I recline on my couch and watch Miss Marple over a few beers.

*Why Golden Rod? GR and I are both synesthesetes. We agree that the number one is black and that the medical specialty of Radiology is red. Her real name is, in my mind, yellow. But she is so much NOT a yellow person that I couldn't call her "Yellow". Golden Rod works though.

Thursday, May 24, 2012

Book Reviews

Who knew that blogging would be the new way to get reviews of a book. The Reluctant Laundress made a comment about going shamefacedly to The Marriage Plot. I had heard of that book and so threw it into my library queue as I was in need of a book. I commented on her blog that I'd picked it up and read the flap, which made me tired, only to receive a review from the lovely DWK who HATED it. I've taken that as two nominations for me to simply return the book unread and save myself the time rather than slog through for the sake of it as I did that god awful book that I shall not name again.

Sure, I know, it's odd to take advice from people you've never met. But those are two women who write blogs I greatly admire. Thus I not only trust their opinions, but I find I have a perfectly good excuse to save myself trouble and simply turn to something much more fun, easier to read, and much less loathsome. Thank you cyber ladies!

In the meantime, I am reading a Clive Cussler book. Hunter mentioned he reads Clive Cussler and, since I no longer buy books but borrow them from the library, I'm always looking for something new. So I'm reading Spartan Gold. Perhaps not any great literary grandeur (or perhaps it is, I don't know) but I'm enjoying it thus far and it's nice to read what a friend reads. Gives you a bit of insight. And since I've basically forced Hunter to read The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, I kind of owe him.

Tuesday, May 22, 2012

Stupid Little Things

Johan had a lot of trouble getting into his cage tonight. When it was past time for him to be back, he was under the rolling pantry, laying down in the sort of posture that looked like a bored and sad animal with nothing to do. He couldn't seem to figure out how to get up his ramp and into his cage. He's had that in the past, more so recently, and I do think it might be because I moved his cage and he is under the ceiling fan so maybe the smells being wafted about confused him.

But I take him very seriously. I have a piece of paper in my wallet these days directing emergency staff, should I be in a horrible accident, to either call Boss or J, give them my house key and address (both old and new are listed with dates of when I'll be where) and to please have them take him to his vet and have him boarded because I don't want him to be left alone. The idea of his dying is, of course repellant, and it has been on my mind because I had to ask J.

I had to ask J, "do you want me to notify you if Johan dies?"

And because I've emailed that question, I let my imagination run rampant with what will happen when Johan goes. He's 3 years old now and guinea pigs live, on average, 4 to 5 years. Some live longer but you have to be prepared. All I know is that I will be a mess, I will have to stay home from work if it is a week day, and I will be in shambles.

These are ridiculous and painful things you have to think about as an adult. And I hate it.

UPDATED
Transcript of the very brief email correspondence regarding Johan.

From Me to J:
"Do you want me to let you know if Johan dies? He's just over 3 years old and the expected life is 4-5 years. He really struggled with getting back into his cage, like he couldn't remember how and it took forever. This doesn't necessarily mean anything but it's been on my mind to ask you if you wanted to know.

I'm hoping he was just confused by smells because of the ceiling fan."
From J to Me:
"He's fat.  He can't even get back in his pig jail."
And that is seriously all he said on the matter. It's a good thing though, because it means he is OK to talk to me now, or at least better than he was. Because he knew damn well what kind of response that would elicit (namely me cyber yelling at him about how the pig is NOT fat and the cage is NOT pig prison and Johan LIKES his cage).

Jokes on him though. I totally texted him a picture of the pig.
 

Sunday, May 20, 2012

Vehicular Hilarity

In the past three days, I've seen two really weird incidents involving motorists and I'm hoping to see more of them as I become more observant (how is that going to happen? I don't know either). In fact, I'm going to try and become more observant just so I can witness more of life's hilarity.

Incident One
Jilly Bean and I made a mid-morning dash to a Starbucks on Friday. We went through the drive thru because we are lazy Americans and the line was only two cars. I'm so glad we did! The car in front of mine was at the speaker thing giving her order and then, when I thought she was pulling up to wait her turn for the window, she instead drove off like a bat out of hell, causing JB and I to burst out laughing.
"What do you mean you're out of chai tea?!"
"You no longer carry croissants! This is an outrage!"
"If I'd wanted ice coffee, I would have said I wanted ice coffee. Cancel my order!" 
I mean, who drives off in a fury from the Starbucks drive thru lane? Turns out the real reason was more hilarious than what JB and I came up with. The guy at the window said she was pissed because they'd run out of protein powder, which sent JB and I into roaring laughter. "Yeah, that's how we react to those people too," he informed me, gratified by our reaction. I mean, who the fuck goes to Starbucks for their protein smoothies? Especially when there is, literally, a smoothie shop right down the road? JB and I didn't even know they made smoothies, let alone that they used protein powder. But that lady certainly knew. 

Incident Two
I was walking from a side lot onto the side walk in a nearby shopping center so that I could access the Pet Co (after vacuuming, I realized L&M was out of his beloved Timothy and only had the alfalfa that Hunter very kindly sent for him and although he is OK with the alfalfa, he really likes his Timothy).  I was in the process of double checking that I had, indeed, brought my wallet, when I suddenly noticed a van was stopped in an inconvenient place, right at the spot where she was trying to turn onto the road that abuts the storefronts. Then I saw the car in front of her van was also stopped and so looked to see if they'd had an accident. Instead, the driver of the car in front opened his door and started yelling:
"You wanna start some shit lady?! Huh?! God damn son of a bitch!"
I arrived too late to know who, exactly he was yelling at, so it made it that much more special (or, if you will, specialer... OMG, specialer is a word? I had no idea! But spell check didn't call me out so word) Was he yelling at the lady in the van behind him? I don't think so because, since he went so far as to open his door to yell, I would assume he would have gotten out to at least face her. I think, actually, that he was yelling at a pedestrian who was walking towards a shop behind him. Did she do that obnoxious pedestrian thing of crossing where there isn't a crosswalk? Did she give him shit about something? I have no idea. All I do know is that I was a bit disappointed that whoever the target was didn't yell back. And if it was the pedestrian, I pretty much sided with the driver because he looked like an average Joe whilst she looked like a wealthy wife of a CEO who attends "club dinners" and plays tennis and I loathe those women because I'm a reverse snob. That and because I'm still pissed off at these pedestrians who crossed in front of me last weekend. They crossed a very busy road with a 45 mph speed limit and not at a crosswalk. That's all fine and well and if you can do it, go ahead, but don't take your fucking time about it! They seriously just strolled across and I actually had to apply my breaks and then the fucking chick took her sweet time getting onto the grassy median. And she was talking on her cell phone.

But it's OK because I yelled "I hope you get hit on your way back" and even though I don't think they heard me, I'm pretty certain they felt it. 

Saturday, May 19, 2012

I don't hate this post but I don't feel anything warm towards it

All Work and Some Reading
I made it to page 430 of 50 Shades of Grey and then I wrote a negative review of it on Good Reads and then I spit on it and returned it to the library. OK, I didn't really spit on it. But I did shove it with unnecessary force through the drop off slot at the library. It deserved it. Fortunately, Catching Fire came in the very next day and so I wasn't long without a good book. It took me three days and now I have about six weeks to wait for the final book in the trilogy. OK, full disclosure, I finished CF last night but I was tipsy so I need to reread the last two or three chapters but I can't seem to find the damned thing. Like I said, I was tipsy. Hey, it was Friday night after a l-o-n-g week.

Every week is long these days, really. I'm in the process of learning to manage others and I'm not really enjoying it. One of the people assisting me doesn't provide me with updates as often as I'd like (or as often as I've asked) and the other updates me with this weird sense of seriousness and what I can only think of as a "dire" attitude. She's very nervous and hesitant and seems to be afraid of just diving in. It's just data entry but she's stated that the learning process and the weeding through has been a real challenge. I feel bad because I really like her and she's told me that she enjoys the work and is excited about it so I can't just yank it away from her. But I can switch it up and give her the same sort of task only one that is more straightforward. The one who doesn't update me often enough I'll talk to at our next status meeting, which I've scheduled weekly. I need to stress the fact that the work has deadlines and I need to know where she is with what she is doing on a more reliable basis. I also need to know that she truly can devote X numbers hours a week if that is what she's promised and how many hours it takes for her to complete task A B or C. If not, no big deal, I just need to know. So yeah, not enjoying this but I'm doing my best to understand that I have to do it and I have to allow for the reality that I CANNOT DO EVERY SINGLE THING. Shudder.

Dreamer, Packer, Eater, Chef
Woke up before 7 a.m. again today, a weird new Saturday habit. Was extremely exhausted of course, so I just huddled on my couch and watched Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy. I liked it but I'm not exactly sure why. I like mysteries of this type, no gore or car chases or anything like that, just intrigue and a search for an answer. It takes place during the Cold War and there is a mole in British intelligence and this older guy who was forced out is asked by a minister (Prime? I don't know) to find the mole*. Very straight forward. However, I didn't read about it so I didn't know it was set during the Cold War until I finally looked it up after obsessively trying to figure out, based on clothing, whether the film took place in the past or present. That's usually pretty easy but when you're watching something about a bunch of government men, you pretty much mainly just see men in suits. In retrospect I did think "well, I guess men probably don't wear suits to work every day anymore. Duh".

The other thing I fixated on was this actor who had a baby face. He didn't look young, he looked like a giant baby. It was really bizarre. Do you remember those old cartoons that played with Bugs Bunny and Wiley Coyote and the like, the ones with the gangsters? There was one that had the baby face and I kept thinking of him when this actor was on the screen. It wasn't funny - it was really, super, ultra creepy. But Colin Firth and Benedict Cumberbatch were also in the movie so I just looked at them and felt happy and warm.

Then I took a quick nap and dreamed I was packing so when I woke up, I packed. Oh! I just remembered that in my dream I came across a whole slew of wooden utensils, packs of them like I'd bought a nice set, forgotten about it, bought another one, and had also been gifted a set. I wonder what kind of life dream me had that required so many wooden spoons and forks and so on and so forth? Really glad I don't actually have them. Real me just has a lot of big knives, some butcher, some serrated, some others.

And now? Now I need to clean and run to the store for soda (generic diet Coke if you're interested... even if you aren't, that's what I'll get) and fight the temptation to take another nap.

*Reread this after my update (below) and saw that I originally wrote "file the mole." Under M, I would think. 

UPDATED
Gahhhhh!!!! Why the hell do kids look so forward to being grownups? I've never understood that and I feel I was always totally right to think it would suck quite a bit.

I set about doing some chores and decided to vacuum, the most odious of chores due to my shitty vacuum and the abundance of hay all around (ahem, Lord and Master likes his hay). Well, the vacuum decided to not suck up anything, not even try. So I set about the lovely task of taking out the canister, checking the filters, and taking the fucker apart, getting filthy, sweating over getting the little screws out, and then throwing my hands in the air and saying "fuck this shit" before putting on proper clothing (read: what I wore yesterday), throwing the 50 Shades* item into the dumpster, and driving to Target where I purchased a insanely expensive** new one. Sweaty and annoyed, I am now home, having put together the Shark Navigator Lift-Away and trying it out. I think it might be a success but I was pretty excited about my old Bissel so who knows. Here's hoping.

*That is my new way of defining truly disagreeable items in life. If they are really worthless and terrible, they are 50 Shades. Thus, my 50 Shades of vacuum has been thrown, with vigor, into the dumpster. 

**Well, expensive for me. It turned out to be $190 something and I know for a fact that a friend of mine who shall remain nameless and only be known as Shunter happens to have a belt that costs more. My vacuum cost less than a belt. But still.

Sunday, May 13, 2012

50 Shades of Suck

Caving, once again, to cultural zeitgeist*, I borrowed Fifty Shades of Grey from the library to see what all the to do was about. I knew it had started as Twilight fan fiction and that it had some really erotic aspects to it; and that's about it. You may recall that the last time I caved and read something based on popularity was Hunger Games, which was a real pleasure and so a successful endeavor. I wish I could say the same again.

I'm on page 207 of 514 and honestly don't know if I'll finish the entire book. It's a quick read, admittedly, but a terrible one. My main issues, thus far, are:
  • Poor, heavy handed writing. I get it, OK? Anastasia Steele finds Christian super hot and she is nervous around him. I get that she is naive and innocent and clumsy and shy. I don't need to continual references to these things because I haven't forgotten.
  • I guess we can consider it pay back for all the time American authors have totally gotten other countries wrong but still, EL James sets her novel in the Pacific Northwest and doesn't bother to attempt to get her characters to speak like true Americans. Throwing in current band names does not make me automatically suspend my disbelief. 
  • The protagonist's use of the word "crap" is gratuitous and obnoxious.
  • So is her constant references to her "inner goddess".
  • Actually, there is nothing I like about the protagonist. 
  • Or her roommate. 
  • What's with the Hispanic-American best friend named, of course, Jose? 
  • I really can't believe that someone's first sexual experience would be that good and without more pain and awkwardness... but OK, this is a "romance" novel so I guess that's how we roll in romance land.
So yeah, not really feeling this book and am kind of hoping that Christian Grey anal fists Anastasia Steele because I can't stand her. I will say that I've enjoyed reading the negative reviews on Amazon though. And part of me feels compelled to power through just because I have that thing where I feel like I can't quit reading a book if I've gotten so far through it. Weird, I know, but I think many of us are like that.  So I guess that is a positive thing I can say for Fifty Shades, it isn't so unreadable that I feel OK just quitting on it.

*I know, I know, I really need to stop saying "cultural zeitgeist". That was my last one, promise.

This morning has been a weird cluster of FAIL. I needed to get quarters for laundry and my usual grocery store has been out of quarters for ages so I had to drive to a different one. I went to the customer service area and found a sign that said they were closed and would reopen at 8 a.m. Uhm, it was after 8... but of course I second guessed myself and stood there like a moron and dug out my phone to double check. I was going to ask a cashier for help when the chick who was meant to be manning the desk apologized and came to help me. Still, nothing like assuming I'm the idiot. 

I knew the pet store wouldn't be open until 9 so I took my time about driving to a different shopping center to pass time. When I did get there, I pulled on the doors to find it was still closed. The sign said "9-7 on Sunday" under hours and I thought "uhm, it is 9, isn't it?" Yep. It was 9:08. So I walked to Target to buy a belt and some juice because I was thirsty and my pants were falling down and I've needed a belt for months. 

You are enthralled by this aren't you?

So I go back to the pet store and see that the Sunday hours say "10-7 on Sunday." I have spent the last two hours wondering if someone changed it or if I'd gotten it wrong. I really wish I'd taken a picture when they were closed so I'd know for sure but it's also kind of fun to have the alternate possibility, slack employees changing the sign so they can open an hour later. Annoying too, of course, as it means I have to go back out for bedding. So I'm reading my terrible book and procrastinating because I feel like the minute I get back from the pet store I'll have to stop putting off my laundry. 

Hmm, maybe Christian's worked a few knuckles up Ana's ass by now.  

Monday, May 7, 2012

How I have friends is a mystery to me

The following is an email conversation I had with BFF the other day.

BFF - Original Subject Line is Avatar
"'Sup Puddin,

I am racking my brain trying to come up with an avatar for my scary mommy.com profile. Care to draw me one when you have the time?" 

ME
"What're you looking for? Can you give me a bit of inspiration?"


BFF
"Something to do with me and Baby."

ME
"So not a picture of Johan, my gun, and random Manga?"

BFF
"No, no thank you."

ME
"Totally drew that myself."

BFF
"Lol. But that's beautiful! And perfect!"

ME
"I thought you'd like it. I thought vintage when I thought of you and baby when I thought of Baby so easy peasy."

ME
"Option two. A great way to introduce yourself."
BFF
"Um, yeah, that's kinda what I was thinking when I asked for an avatar! I'mma gonna use this one! Thanks!"

ME - New Subject Line "Re: avatar PLEASE DON'T HATE ME"
BFF
"That's just WRONG!
 Besides, Baby doesn't get herself dressed yet. :P"

ME
"I figured this was at night before you put her down. But she looks happy doesn't she?

That picture cracked me up when I finished drawing it."

BFF
" Ahem, I don't get shit faced until AFTER I put her down!"

ME - New subject line "Last One"
That is her husband, looking all annoyed at her

BFF
"Ugh!"

ME
"Oh come on!"

BFF
"Really???!! :-)"


And that is why she is BFF. The end.

Friday, May 4, 2012

May the 4th Be With You, Mr. Yauch

Adam "MCA" Yauch died today. I was in my car driving home when I heard the news. My division was having internet trouble so I got permission to work from home in order to complete a few things. The DJ announced it and my jaw dropped open and I said, out loud to nobody, "oh no!" Yauch was my favorite Beastie Boy. J used to give me shit about that but I loved his voice.

I'm incredibly sad, sadder than I thought I would ever be at the death of a celebrity. But I grew up with the Beastie Boys, as did many of us. I saw them in concert once when I was a teenager, with Teacher and his friends. It was the Intergalactic tour and they played my favorite song, "Sure Shot". I'm incredibly sad because I loved the talent that we no longer have and I'm not just mourning the death of MCA but of the Beastie Boys as a band. You cannot continue on with a third missing, especially when the the missing third was a founder.

Rest in peace, Mister Yauch. My thoughts are with your family.

Sure Shot

UPDATED
Perfect tribute and the best celebrity response.

Wednesday, May 2, 2012

Monster in My Portmanteau

In which I'm rather judgmental 
Hmm, really? Anarchists my ass. Me thinks these young men watch a wee bit too much "Fight Club".

Also, who didn't see this coming? No, really, who out there sat over a cup of tea with a friend saying "say what you will, but at least she has some principles" as though those principles were made of adamantium? When I first read that she wouldn't do porn my thought was "bitch you stupid" (yes, 'bitch you stupid' is literally how I thought it). I mean, come on, you have fourteen kids; what kind of day job do you foresee yourself having to take care of them all? And are you really going to be working a nine to five job? Me thinks not.

Maxwell Drew?  My first thought was that they didn't know they'd had a girl. BFF, who was weirdly concerned about her girl Jess because she looked uncomfortable at the end of her pregnancy, said they'd call the baby Maxie for short. Maxie Johnson? Is that not a terrific porn name? As Birdy said "if she was the heiress to a million dollar industry, I'd feel bad for the kid." I do like Maxwell Drew for a boy though.

In which I'm fucking stupid
I forgot my wallet today. I'm not exactly sure how I manage to do that but I frequently leave my wallet at home on days I don't bring anything in the way of food with me to work. I hate these days because I end up having to go hungry, borrow money, or <shudder>, eat what I have at my disposal. Today that means left over carrots, celery, and cucumber slices with hummus, a greek yogurt, some blueberries, and/or oatmeal (not to mention a boat load of candy). I packed all that healthy crap yesterday, aiming to start eating like a proper human (well, I also had ramen but I'm a proper person of limited funds and imagination) and it wasn't bad... yesterday, when I could have gotten something else if I'd so chosen because I had my wallet with me. Healthy food, when it is my only option, is worse than healthy food when it is of my choosing. That's why I'm eyeballing the orange on my desk with revulsion and anger. Fucking stupid orange, all complicated to peal.

I did have some of the veggies and hummus and it wasn't the worst experience in my life, but I only ate them after I'd eaten some of the candy my mother sent me. Basically, I ate the healthy crap out of guilt. Then I just continued to refill my coffee cup because I seem to think if I drink enough coffee, it will eventually be food. In reality, I just keep going to the ladies room. Fortunately, Bean just called and offered to bring me something from Target. I explained that I did have stuff I could eat and that I had just poured more coffee but she was all "I can get you those garlic spring rolls we like" and it was very much like Jen Barkley telling Leslie Knope she would buy her those waffles she liked and I totally caved. Bean even told me not to worry about the three whole dollars the lean cuisine is going to cost! How did that happen? Muffin button? Probably the muffin button.

Next Day
I had a nightmare last night about Stalker. It was the worst I've had, ever, so bad that I woke up and felt afraid. I've had nightmares like that in the past, but not involving Stalker. I haven't even seen that guy much in the last few weeks but there he was, scaring me in my dreams. I thought I was passed those days.

I also dreamed that I was in a car accident again only this time it wasn't my fault.

I also told J that I was going to disappear. He texted me asking what I meant and why and I just told him I meant from his life, not Earth, and that it was too painful too stay in his life (or attempt to at any rate). He texted back "I heard that." Then I fell asleep and dreamed about Stalker and a car accident. I wonder if it just means that I have survived my worst fear and that I need to stop beating myself up about things that happen in my personal life, not take on all the blame.

J is 33 today. I feel better than I thought I would and, whilst sad, it is a low level numbness rather than the weeping grief I've been experiencing lately. I'm sure if I say "I think I'm finally through it" I'll just stumble into another wall of mourning so I'll simply say that I seem to have made progress. 

Now
Now I am at work, taking a quick ten minutes to finish this post before delving back in. I've worked 22 hours so far this week and it is only Wednesday. I have much more to do and I'm learning and growing professionally in the midst of it all. Not a bad week so far, all things considered.

And for some reason, I can't stop thinking about perfume and how I would like to have some. I have two old bottles, one Structure, which I've had for at least 8 years and one Joy, which BFF gave me when she moved. I don't wear either of them that often and I've wanted a new scent for years but just never seem to bring myself to it. Quite random, isn't it? Like having a food craving.