Friday, September 30, 2005

THIS...Is not about poop.

But it is about the work restroom. When I walk into the women's restroom I always have a brief panic attack, I mean, a millisecond of fear that I have entered the men's restroom. This is likely because I don't go to this restroom often, given the other *issues* which won't be spoken of in this particular post that is NOT about poop.

I think maybe overall, I have some anxiety issues lately. No idea why. So un-me.

Finally Friday

I woke up in a bad mood. Not necessarily a bad mood, just a lot of anxiety. Anxiety over all the things I didn't get done at work all week long...How far behind I am. It doesn't even soothe me that I have no meetings today and have time to make a dent in the stack. Mostly because I feel so fried that I've found myself staring at my computer screen, thinking about my dog and my husband who I've shown less love to this week because work has packed its shit and moved right into my emotional and mental chakras, rendering me unable to think about anything else.

Except for an hour last night when I watched the season premiere of Everwood. I'm so glad that show is back...Oh, and I wasn't thinking of work during Todd's softball game when, even though they were losing badly, I was captivated and, as usual, a little fascinated by the fact that people can run and catch balls at the same time. Todd made (scored?) a home run. That was pretty spectacular.

Yesterday I bought a chess board. Um huh.

I spent quite some time this morning picking up dog poop in the grassy area where I take Jack to go potty. When OCD meets poopy yard, it's amazing the things that can happen. I don't do it each time he goes, because it's very wasteful from the little blue bag perspective. So I pick it up weekly or bi-weekly. Plus, isn't it a good fertilizer? Anyway, there are quite a few other dogs in our building. I hear them all the time, but never see them potty. But I know that they're there, and that they're pottying in the same grassy area. But no one else picks up the poop. Granted, I'm already out there, and I'm saving even more bags by picking it all up at once. My point is more about this: I don't like to change other people's baby's dirty diapers. Mom says that when it's your own baby, it doesn't bother you as much. The same goes for dog poop. I'm not sure what these people are feeding their dogs, but they should do some research and reconsider their choices. Man! Anyway, I always know Jack's poop because it has tennis ball hair in it, of course.

I also find it very interesting that women, when they reach a certain age, go get their hair "done" or "fixed" or "styled" once or twice a week. No woman in my family has ever done that. Well, let me rephrase, my grandmother and my great aunts never did that. There is one aunt (by marriage) whose hair is absolutely amazing. Amazing because it never moves and has a very interesting shape. Like a space helmet or something, I don't know. Or like Dracula, from that movie? Anyway, I don't "get" getting your hair styled and not washing it yourself, only washing it a couple times a week. My mom says that when you get older, you have less oil in your hair, it doesn't get as "dirty". Oil or no oil, I will always wash my hair.

I need a haircut, too. I want it to be long again, but I know that if it is, I will continue with my recent routine (since the wedding, maybe before) -- wash and wrap into a knot. I don't blow it dry, curl it, style it, anything. If I had a good shaped head, I'd shave it. Nah.

Back to work.

Thursday, September 29, 2005


Today, I got a flu shot and a B12 shot. My arm and my butt feel like they're going to fall off. I guess your butt can't "fall off". But your arm sure can.

Work is busier than ever, making it very hard to do anything but sleep, eat, work, eat, sleep, work. But the crisp, cold air this morning sure was refreshing. And it's still a little cool outside. Feels great. Camping weather, for sure.