Thursday, March 31, 2005
Woman on the Verge
I know the last thing you want to hear is me bitching about my perfect life. I mean, I have it all right?
---A great job that includes a decent salary (c'mon, is anyone really ever 100% satisfied with their compensation? We all think we deserve more.), a fantastic female boss from whom I am learning a lot and who I look up to.
---A wonderful, attentive, loving husband.
---A family of origin that I am close to and with whom I have a great relationship.
---An amazing set of friends who provide me with a close knit support network.
---Good health.
---About to have a new, adorable house.
So, if my life is so perfect, why am I *this* close to a meltdown?
My job is interesting and exciting, but I work at a break neck pace and and have very little down time. I was recently promoted and have a lot to prove that I am not out of my league.
My husband is wonderful and supportive, but we certainly are not perfect. Plus, he can't continue to support my perfectionist 100+ hours a week of work (between work and garduate school) and still retain HIS sanity.
My parents are 1200 miles away, as are my friends and I MISS THEM.
My health is ok, but I can see the stress taking its toll on me. I have headaches and nightmares and back pain and who knows what else will crop up at any moment. Last year, I had lyme disease for six months and didn't know it.
The house is going to BREAK us financially and I am so worried and so stressed. We meet with the mortgage guy to sign papers tomorrow, by the way (for those keeping track).
Last week, I was driving over an overpass and I had a fleeting thought... what if I just let the car go off the side? What if I could just fly through the air free from responsibilites for a moment? I know it would end badly, and I certainly only entertained the notion for the briefest of moments, half a second, maybe... BUT am I cracking up?
Where do YOU draw the line and say enough is enough?
I know the last thing you want to hear is me bitching about my perfect life. I mean, I have it all right?
---A great job that includes a decent salary (c'mon, is anyone really ever 100% satisfied with their compensation? We all think we deserve more.), a fantastic female boss from whom I am learning a lot and who I look up to.
---A wonderful, attentive, loving husband.
---A family of origin that I am close to and with whom I have a great relationship.
---An amazing set of friends who provide me with a close knit support network.
---Good health.
---About to have a new, adorable house.
So, if my life is so perfect, why am I *this* close to a meltdown?
My job is interesting and exciting, but I work at a break neck pace and and have very little down time. I was recently promoted and have a lot to prove that I am not out of my league.
My husband is wonderful and supportive, but we certainly are not perfect. Plus, he can't continue to support my perfectionist 100+ hours a week of work (between work and garduate school) and still retain HIS sanity.
My parents are 1200 miles away, as are my friends and I MISS THEM.
My health is ok, but I can see the stress taking its toll on me. I have headaches and nightmares and back pain and who knows what else will crop up at any moment. Last year, I had lyme disease for six months and didn't know it.
The house is going to BREAK us financially and I am so worried and so stressed. We meet with the mortgage guy to sign papers tomorrow, by the way (for those keeping track).
Last week, I was driving over an overpass and I had a fleeting thought... what if I just let the car go off the side? What if I could just fly through the air free from responsibilites for a moment? I know it would end badly, and I certainly only entertained the notion for the briefest of moments, half a second, maybe... BUT am I cracking up?
Where do YOU draw the line and say enough is enough?
Tuesday, March 29, 2005
Monday, March 28, 2005
Dear Internet,
I haven't forsaken or forgotten you. I have been a tad crazed these past two weeks. I have about ten posts half written and I can't seem to get it together to finish any of them.
It's mid-terms at school, quarter-end performance reporting and a new product launch at work, and in case you didn't realize, I'M BUYING A HOUSE.
Shit is stressful, yo.
See, it MUST be stressful if I'm reverting to hip-hop slang circa 1992...
Anyways, please be patient, I still love you **this much**, I'm just overwhelmed.
New posts will be popping up like the tulips in the yard of MY NEW HOUSE sometime in the near future. I swear. On my five bedrooms and working fireplace. (God, I'm such a bitch, aren't I?)
I haven't forsaken or forgotten you. I have been a tad crazed these past two weeks. I have about ten posts half written and I can't seem to get it together to finish any of them.
It's mid-terms at school, quarter-end performance reporting and a new product launch at work, and in case you didn't realize, I'M BUYING A HOUSE.
Shit is stressful, yo.
See, it MUST be stressful if I'm reverting to hip-hop slang circa 1992...
Anyways, please be patient, I still love you **this much**, I'm just overwhelmed.
New posts will be popping up like the tulips in the yard of MY NEW HOUSE sometime in the near future. I swear. On my five bedrooms and working fireplace. (God, I'm such a bitch, aren't I?)
Friday, March 18, 2005
Top 10 things I am going to have to give up if we buy this house
1. travel
2. our bi-weekly housekeeper
3. eating out regularly
4. the gym membership (aka the "fat tax" as we rarely use it)
5. Netflix
6. my shoe habit... alas, I may have to wear LAST SEASON'S SHOES -- imagine the horror!
7. bi-weekly manicures
8. Borjomi mineral water from Whole Foods
9. both wine clubs to which we belong
10. expensive stinky cheese... bring on the velveeta!
1. travel
2. our bi-weekly housekeeper
3. eating out regularly
4. the gym membership (aka the "fat tax" as we rarely use it)
5. Netflix
6. my shoe habit... alas, I may have to wear LAST SEASON'S SHOES -- imagine the horror!
7. bi-weekly manicures
8. Borjomi mineral water from Whole Foods
9. both wine clubs to which we belong
10. expensive stinky cheese... bring on the velveeta!
Wednesday, March 16, 2005
Stay tuned
Major announcement coming shortly.
Update: We have made an offer on an adorable house in our town about 8 blocks from where we currently rent. It is at the very edge of our affordability and we will be killing ourselves to make our monthly note, which is double our rent. We will, however, be the proud owners of a five bedroom, two bathroom 1920's cottage with a working fireplace, hardwood floors, lots of light and a big, dog- and kid-friendly backyard.
The sellers have accepted our offer. Closing date, contingent on a lot of things, is May 6th. Holy shit.
This means, unfortunately, our trip to New Orleans for Jazz Fest is off. It actually means our trips anywhere are off. If you would like to see us, you are welcome to come over to the house and join us in a lovely meal of ramen noodles. Please bring your own wine, we won't be able to afford to provide you with any. If we're feeling particularly flush that week, we may even be able to afford to serve mac and cheese.
Ok, ok... I am exaggerating of course, but money is going to be tight for a while. Anyone want to buy any of those fabulous shoes I showed you a couple of posts ago?
Major announcement coming shortly.
Update: We have made an offer on an adorable house in our town about 8 blocks from where we currently rent. It is at the very edge of our affordability and we will be killing ourselves to make our monthly note, which is double our rent. We will, however, be the proud owners of a five bedroom, two bathroom 1920's cottage with a working fireplace, hardwood floors, lots of light and a big, dog- and kid-friendly backyard.
The sellers have accepted our offer. Closing date, contingent on a lot of things, is May 6th. Holy shit.
This means, unfortunately, our trip to New Orleans for Jazz Fest is off. It actually means our trips anywhere are off. If you would like to see us, you are welcome to come over to the house and join us in a lovely meal of ramen noodles. Please bring your own wine, we won't be able to afford to provide you with any. If we're feeling particularly flush that week, we may even be able to afford to serve mac and cheese.
Ok, ok... I am exaggerating of course, but money is going to be tight for a while. Anyone want to buy any of those fabulous shoes I showed you a couple of posts ago?
Sunday, March 13, 2005
Ye know not what ye has wrought
You want me to blog about and show pictures of my shoes?????
Yeeeeeeeeeeee! (squeals with glee)
Note, these are just the first few I could get to. John and I live in an old victorian house which has extremely narrow closets. I keep my shoes and casual clothes in one, my dressy and work clothes in another and John has the third one. I have dreams of walk-in closets and I wake up very, very sad.
So, here's a few pictures of the shoe closet to get you started:
Next, my favorite work shoes:
these black wedges are really comfortable and look great with wide legged pants
j'adore these chocolate brown kitten heels and often wear them with a pair of Paul Smith short (ankle-grazing) burgundy and brown tweed pants. They also go great with my khaki pleated skirt and a brown cashmere sweater.
I wear these olive green stiletto pumps constantly because they are so comfortable. As a matter of fact, I wore these on Friday with a black pants suit and an olive and dusty rose striped button down shirt.
I just bought these purple suede Coach pumps last month for a conference. I have a gray suit that was trimmed in a dusty rose tweed that went great with these. When I got the shoes home and tried on the suit, which I hadn't worn in many years, I realized that the suit was a size four and I am a size eight... so now I usually wear them with gray pants or a cream patterned skirt.
I get a lot of comments on these Charles David cow print shoes with pink heels. They're comfy as hell, too. I've always been of the opinion that if you wear relatively conservative clothes to work, you have to interject some wimsy or you may as well be dead.
How about some party shoes?
I bought these ankle wrap stilettos to wear on New Year's Eve 2003. That was the year we hung out until 7 AM at private party for this aging blue musician. The guy was drunk out of his mind and kept insisting that John prove his love to me. Not by getting me a ring, mind you (we were not yet engaged). No, Andre wanted John to hunt me a deer. He kept insisting that "a real man hunts his woman a deer!" Oh, and he did notice my shoes.
I bought these amazing lavendar stilettos to wear on my first date with John. I spent an obscene amount of money on these shoes, but dammit, the man married me, so I guess it was worth it. I mean, never underestimate the power of a great pair of shoes.
these shoes are not for the meek. They are fire engine red patent leather and cow fur. People always want to touch them when I wear these shoes. I usually tone them down by wearing them with a below-the-knee narrow black skirt, a cashmere sweater and pearls. It's my homage to the sweater girls of the '50s.
Did I hear you say you want to see some boots?
these shoes hurt my feet, but they're ultra sexy. I wore these on New Year's Eve this year. They are a very high gloss black leather and look great with everything. EVERYTHING. But they hurt like hell. Ah, the things we do to look great.
I love these brown boots because the toe box looks like a crocodile snout. I wear these with jeans a lot.
John got me these Indigo by Clarks boots for my birthday this year. The color is a soft red that looks great with everything. Plus, they have an athletic insole, so they are extremely comfortable.
Because I am sooo ready for spring, let's see some sandals, shall we?
I lived in these Steve Madden flowered patent leather flips all summer long last year. I even wore them to work a couple of times when I didn't have any meetings. (sh!)
I got these navy blue suede wedges in New Orleans two summers ago. They look great with sundresses and also with white linen pants and a striped top.
I ablsolutely am in love with these polka dot slides. They are just so cute. I am going to wear these at the first sign of spring. I don't care if it's only 50 degrees. These shoes are going to be worn SOON.
these clogs are not only not clunky and clog-like, they are made of some sort of japanese wood that has this cool, curving grain. I love the lines of these graceful shoes.
Other shoes:
the cleats that make all that soccer magic happen.
I just bought these chartreuse water shoes. They look so cute with capri jeans and a tank top. I really, really can't wait until spring. Arg.
finally, what shoe collection is not complete without a pair of beaten-up, paint splattered chucks?
I hope you enjoyed a glimpse into the shoe collection. This is just the tip of the iceberg. Maybe next week, if I have time and the inclination, and you really want me to, I'll show you more. Maybe, if we're really lucky, I'll show the silver platform bubble heel boots and the iridescent pewter heeled rocker shoes that I have only worn twice.
You want me to blog about and show pictures of my shoes?????
Yeeeeeeeeeeee! (squeals with glee)
Note, these are just the first few I could get to. John and I live in an old victorian house which has extremely narrow closets. I keep my shoes and casual clothes in one, my dressy and work clothes in another and John has the third one. I have dreams of walk-in closets and I wake up very, very sad.
So, here's a few pictures of the shoe closet to get you started:
Next, my favorite work shoes:
these black wedges are really comfortable and look great with wide legged pants
j'adore these chocolate brown kitten heels and often wear them with a pair of Paul Smith short (ankle-grazing) burgundy and brown tweed pants. They also go great with my khaki pleated skirt and a brown cashmere sweater.
I wear these olive green stiletto pumps constantly because they are so comfortable. As a matter of fact, I wore these on Friday with a black pants suit and an olive and dusty rose striped button down shirt.
I just bought these purple suede Coach pumps last month for a conference. I have a gray suit that was trimmed in a dusty rose tweed that went great with these. When I got the shoes home and tried on the suit, which I hadn't worn in many years, I realized that the suit was a size four and I am a size eight... so now I usually wear them with gray pants or a cream patterned skirt.
I get a lot of comments on these Charles David cow print shoes with pink heels. They're comfy as hell, too. I've always been of the opinion that if you wear relatively conservative clothes to work, you have to interject some wimsy or you may as well be dead.
How about some party shoes?
I bought these ankle wrap stilettos to wear on New Year's Eve 2003. That was the year we hung out until 7 AM at private party for this aging blue musician. The guy was drunk out of his mind and kept insisting that John prove his love to me. Not by getting me a ring, mind you (we were not yet engaged). No, Andre wanted John to hunt me a deer. He kept insisting that "a real man hunts his woman a deer!" Oh, and he did notice my shoes.
I bought these amazing lavendar stilettos to wear on my first date with John. I spent an obscene amount of money on these shoes, but dammit, the man married me, so I guess it was worth it. I mean, never underestimate the power of a great pair of shoes.
these shoes are not for the meek. They are fire engine red patent leather and cow fur. People always want to touch them when I wear these shoes. I usually tone them down by wearing them with a below-the-knee narrow black skirt, a cashmere sweater and pearls. It's my homage to the sweater girls of the '50s.
Did I hear you say you want to see some boots?
these shoes hurt my feet, but they're ultra sexy. I wore these on New Year's Eve this year. They are a very high gloss black leather and look great with everything. EVERYTHING. But they hurt like hell. Ah, the things we do to look great.
I love these brown boots because the toe box looks like a crocodile snout. I wear these with jeans a lot.
John got me these Indigo by Clarks boots for my birthday this year. The color is a soft red that looks great with everything. Plus, they have an athletic insole, so they are extremely comfortable.
Because I am sooo ready for spring, let's see some sandals, shall we?
I lived in these Steve Madden flowered patent leather flips all summer long last year. I even wore them to work a couple of times when I didn't have any meetings. (sh!)
I got these navy blue suede wedges in New Orleans two summers ago. They look great with sundresses and also with white linen pants and a striped top.
I ablsolutely am in love with these polka dot slides. They are just so cute. I am going to wear these at the first sign of spring. I don't care if it's only 50 degrees. These shoes are going to be worn SOON.
these clogs are not only not clunky and clog-like, they are made of some sort of japanese wood that has this cool, curving grain. I love the lines of these graceful shoes.
Other shoes:
the cleats that make all that soccer magic happen.
I just bought these chartreuse water shoes. They look so cute with capri jeans and a tank top. I really, really can't wait until spring. Arg.
finally, what shoe collection is not complete without a pair of beaten-up, paint splattered chucks?
I hope you enjoyed a glimpse into the shoe collection. This is just the tip of the iceberg. Maybe next week, if I have time and the inclination, and you really want me to, I'll show you more. Maybe, if we're really lucky, I'll show the silver platform bubble heel boots and the iridescent pewter heeled rocker shoes that I have only worn twice.
Saturday, March 12, 2005
Salacious and Sagacious and Pithy, Oh MY!
me: John, I haven't written all week, what should I write about?
John: ....
me: well?
John: well, you can't write about work and...
me: no, I can't write about work except in the most general terms....
John: well, write about how you won your soccer game on Monday and about your goal and how excited you were about that.
me: blech. No one is interested in that but me.
John: write about how fucking ridiculous the new bankcruptcy law is.
me: yeah, but I don't really write about politics on my blog. Other people do it better than me. Plus, I'm too pissed off that the fucking credit card companies got what they wanted and they killed the provision where you couldn't use bankcruptcy to shelter your assets from liability in criminal cases so that those anti-abortion assholes will never have to answer for the shit they do. Motherfuckers.
me: um, yeah. So, no I don't want to write about that.
John: ...
me: crap. I really can't think of anything pithy or witty to write about... Except stuff that's Not Safe for Parental Consumptiontm.
John: well, don't post anything then.
me: I wonder what my readers want to hear about?
....
Internet, I'm having some serious writer's block. A little help, please? What do you want to hear?
me: John, I haven't written all week, what should I write about?
John: ....
me: well?
John: well, you can't write about work and...
me: no, I can't write about work except in the most general terms....
John: well, write about how you won your soccer game on Monday and about your goal and how excited you were about that.
me: blech. No one is interested in that but me.
John: write about how fucking ridiculous the new bankcruptcy law is.
me: yeah, but I don't really write about politics on my blog. Other people do it better than me. Plus, I'm too pissed off that the fucking credit card companies got what they wanted and they killed the provision where you couldn't use bankcruptcy to shelter your assets from liability in criminal cases so that those anti-abortion assholes will never have to answer for the shit they do. Motherfuckers.
me: um, yeah. So, no I don't want to write about that.
John: ...
me: crap. I really can't think of anything pithy or witty to write about... Except stuff that's Not Safe for Parental Consumptiontm.
John: well, don't post anything then.
me: I wonder what my readers want to hear about?
....
Internet, I'm having some serious writer's block. A little help, please? What do you want to hear?
Tuesday, March 08, 2005
Philly Bound
I'll be in Philadelphia on bidnus on Friday. If anyone wants to grab a happy hour drink with me, drop an email. I haven't booked my Acela yet, so I can still grab a post-happy hour train if someone wants to see me in my grown-up costume.
I'll be in Philadelphia on bidnus on Friday. If anyone wants to grab a happy hour drink with me, drop an email. I haven't booked my Acela yet, so I can still grab a post-happy hour train if someone wants to see me in my grown-up costume.
Monday, March 07, 2005
The more things change...
In an ironic segue from yesterday's post, I have to tell you about ways in which I will never grow up. I am firmly of the opinion that you must DO to live. I'm a shark--if I'm not moving, I'm dead. I thrive on challenge and my tendency to try all sorts of crazy shit has gotten me into varying amounts of trouble over the years.
Mom, I strongly suggest you stop reading here.
Case in point: 1988 at the house of a girlfriend. Your heroine is a high school sophomore and decides that it would be a really REALLY good idea to climb out said friend's parent's second story window and jump into the pool. Everyone at the party agrees that this would be a great idea. Your heroine is the only one who actually does it, however, as everyone else chickens out.
Case in point: 1992 on my then-boyfriend's giant motorcycle. I had ridden a small, 360 cc bike he had gotten me, but I thought I should try his monster--the 1300 cc behemoth. He didn't agree that I could handle it--thinking a 5'6", 110 pound (I was really skinny then) woman shouldn't be manuevering a 1,000+ pound motorcycle through New Orleans' notoriously pockmarked pot-holed streets. So, what do I do? I hop on it when he's not looking, crashing it into a fence...
So, it is with great excitement that I announce on March 30th, I have a date with a snowboard and some big mountains. I'll probably spend most of the time flat on my ass, but don't count me out... I'll be boarding down the black diamonds before you know it.
Or not. But I sure as hell am going to try.
laissez le bon temps roule!
In an ironic segue from yesterday's post, I have to tell you about ways in which I will never grow up. I am firmly of the opinion that you must DO to live. I'm a shark--if I'm not moving, I'm dead. I thrive on challenge and my tendency to try all sorts of crazy shit has gotten me into varying amounts of trouble over the years.
Mom, I strongly suggest you stop reading here.
Case in point: 1988 at the house of a girlfriend. Your heroine is a high school sophomore and decides that it would be a really REALLY good idea to climb out said friend's parent's second story window and jump into the pool. Everyone at the party agrees that this would be a great idea. Your heroine is the only one who actually does it, however, as everyone else chickens out.
Case in point: 1992 on my then-boyfriend's giant motorcycle. I had ridden a small, 360 cc bike he had gotten me, but I thought I should try his monster--the 1300 cc behemoth. He didn't agree that I could handle it--thinking a 5'6", 110 pound (I was really skinny then) woman shouldn't be manuevering a 1,000+ pound motorcycle through New Orleans' notoriously pockmarked pot-holed streets. So, what do I do? I hop on it when he's not looking, crashing it into a fence...
So, it is with great excitement that I announce on March 30th, I have a date with a snowboard and some big mountains. I'll probably spend most of the time flat on my ass, but don't count me out... I'll be boarding down the black diamonds before you know it.
Or not. But I sure as hell am going to try.
laissez le bon temps roule!
Sunday, March 06, 2005
I was
I was going to write about the horrible day that I had on Friday, which started with the mother of all nightmares and just kept getting worse and worse and worse, but honestly, that day is behind me and my wonderful husband understands the value of sushi therapy, so my day ended with me falling into bed, exhausted, cried out, but nonetheless, full of toro and sake and not that bad.
Instead, I want to talk about growing up.
For a long time, I was a classic twixter (do we like that word? I think it's kind of stupid, but... whatever). I was underemployed; I had this wacky, wild group of friends; I dated bartenders; I was proud of the fact that I could stay out late every night, party like a rockstar and make it to work on time and do well. I wanted to be as far away from adulthood as I could be while still living the life of an adult--my own apartment, my own rules.
I'm not sure where along the way this changed. It was a subtle shift. So subtle, I didn't even notice it happening. Suddenly, the idea of partying like a rockstar, on a weeknight, seemed so silly, it was beyond consideration. Suddenly, I didn't feel lame staying home on a Saturday night, watching netflix and hanging out with John--I felt liberated. I rarely wear make up or get "tarted up" anymore. Who am I trying to attract? John likes me the way I am.
A few nights ago, I was on the phone with my best friend Alison. This woman has known me since we were children. She was my matron of honor in my wedding; I am the godmother of her son. She was excited because her twins are out of their cribs and are sleeping in Big Girl Beds and are soon going to start daycare. We talked about our other childhood friends--one is a doctor, another runs a formidable non-profit organization and has been featured on Good Morning, America and Oprah. Others are doing things as equally important, daunting and, dare I say it, grown-up. Including me.
I started telling her about how I am trying to convince my parents to move up here to be closer to me and that my dad is looking for a job in this area. She interrupted me.
"What has happened to us, Daniella? When did we all get so grown up?"
It's true. Five years ago, having my parents closer to me would have been an anathema.
So, it happened. I have a husband, a job with meetings and deadlines and people relying on me for input. I have bills and a car note and business suits and credit cards. I am a grown up with a grown up life. And I love it. I love my crazy job, I love my supportive husband. I love my successful, interesting friends.
Yet, somehow, in the midst of it all, I didn't see it happening. It just did. And that, dear internet, is the strangest, wildest and craziest thing that has ever happened to me. Much wilder than anything I did during my wild, party-girl days.
I was going to write about the horrible day that I had on Friday, which started with the mother of all nightmares and just kept getting worse and worse and worse, but honestly, that day is behind me and my wonderful husband understands the value of sushi therapy, so my day ended with me falling into bed, exhausted, cried out, but nonetheless, full of toro and sake and not that bad.
Instead, I want to talk about growing up.
For a long time, I was a classic twixter (do we like that word? I think it's kind of stupid, but... whatever). I was underemployed; I had this wacky, wild group of friends; I dated bartenders; I was proud of the fact that I could stay out late every night, party like a rockstar and make it to work on time and do well. I wanted to be as far away from adulthood as I could be while still living the life of an adult--my own apartment, my own rules.
I'm not sure where along the way this changed. It was a subtle shift. So subtle, I didn't even notice it happening. Suddenly, the idea of partying like a rockstar, on a weeknight, seemed so silly, it was beyond consideration. Suddenly, I didn't feel lame staying home on a Saturday night, watching netflix and hanging out with John--I felt liberated. I rarely wear make up or get "tarted up" anymore. Who am I trying to attract? John likes me the way I am.
A few nights ago, I was on the phone with my best friend Alison. This woman has known me since we were children. She was my matron of honor in my wedding; I am the godmother of her son. She was excited because her twins are out of their cribs and are sleeping in Big Girl Beds and are soon going to start daycare. We talked about our other childhood friends--one is a doctor, another runs a formidable non-profit organization and has been featured on Good Morning, America and Oprah. Others are doing things as equally important, daunting and, dare I say it, grown-up. Including me.
I started telling her about how I am trying to convince my parents to move up here to be closer to me and that my dad is looking for a job in this area. She interrupted me.
"What has happened to us, Daniella? When did we all get so grown up?"
It's true. Five years ago, having my parents closer to me would have been an anathema.
So, it happened. I have a husband, a job with meetings and deadlines and people relying on me for input. I have bills and a car note and business suits and credit cards. I am a grown up with a grown up life. And I love it. I love my crazy job, I love my supportive husband. I love my successful, interesting friends.
Yet, somehow, in the midst of it all, I didn't see it happening. It just did. And that, dear internet, is the strangest, wildest and craziest thing that has ever happened to me. Much wilder than anything I did during my wild, party-girl days.
Friday, March 04, 2005
Worst. Day. Ever.
More tomorrow, when I've had a little time (and a lot of booze) to come to terms with just how horrendously awful today has been.
Really.
If it could go wrong, it did go wrong today. Every last goddamn awful thing.
Remind me next year that from now on, I stay in bed on March 4th.
More tomorrow, when I've had a little time (and a lot of booze) to come to terms with just how horrendously awful today has been.
Really.
If it could go wrong, it did go wrong today. Every last goddamn awful thing.
Remind me next year that from now on, I stay in bed on March 4th.
Tuesday, March 01, 2005
AAAAAAARGGGGHHHHH!
It's 10:10 PM. I've been home for less than an hour. There's wet, slushy brown snow all over everything. I'm tired and cranky and grumpy and I am ready for this FUCKING WINTER to be over. It's March 1st. I have had ENOUGH. Bring the damn Spring NOW.
While I'm making requests of the Weather Gods, can the Job Gods please lighten my workload a bit? I know I just got a promotion and an obscenely large raise, but really? 60 hours a week? C'mon, Job Gods... I need a little less work, please. Unless you need me to start making appeals to the Sanity Gods, it's time to lighten up on me, mm-kay? Do keep in mind that I also go to grad school FULL TIME.
Someone come rub my shoulders, feed me bon-bons and tell me it's all going to be OK? I know, I know, my husband is supposed to do that, but we just got Tivo and he's otherwise occupied.
It's 10:10 PM. I've been home for less than an hour. There's wet, slushy brown snow all over everything. I'm tired and cranky and grumpy and I am ready for this FUCKING WINTER to be over. It's March 1st. I have had ENOUGH. Bring the damn Spring NOW.
While I'm making requests of the Weather Gods, can the Job Gods please lighten my workload a bit? I know I just got a promotion and an obscenely large raise, but really? 60 hours a week? C'mon, Job Gods... I need a little less work, please. Unless you need me to start making appeals to the Sanity Gods, it's time to lighten up on me, mm-kay? Do keep in mind that I also go to grad school FULL TIME.
Someone come rub my shoulders, feed me bon-bons and tell me it's all going to be OK? I know, I know, my husband is supposed to do that, but we just got Tivo and he's otherwise occupied.
