Today, I'm a bitch.

 

I am in the ugliest mood today. I am a raving, wildly irrational, BITCH.

 

Reasons why I just might kill someone today:

 

~NICOTINE WITHDRAWL. Enough said.

 

~PMS. Again, needs no further explanation.

 

~I am being treated like a motherfucking MULE at work. Why do managers think it is good practice to bleed their people dry? I cannot imagine that helping the bottom line by forcing your employees to do the jobs of more than one person is a good strategy for project success. That just leaves you with tired, overworked, underappreciated, and disgruntled people. Is that how you wanna run your ship? Let me tell you something Mr. Project Manager, if this ship was sinking, going down in flames, there is not one person here that would do a damn thing to help save your ass. It all comes down to respect and support. If we don’t get that from you, you are fucking crazy to expect to get that from us.

 

~This job starts at 7 am. There is a chick that I work with that strolls in anywhere from 8:15 to 9:00 Every fucking day. WTF?? What kind of world are you living in that that is acceptable? By 8:00 people are already needing shit from you, needing you to do your job. You know? The one you ARE GETTING PAID TO DO?!?!? And the really fucked up thing is that it is being allowed to continue. I don’t know if anyone said anything to her. Other than me, of course. You’d better believe I told her that I am damn sick of people coming in my office at 8:30 in the morning asking me where she was. Fuck this. If she can come in 2 hrs late every day, then maybe I will start leaving two hrs early every day. I wonder how they would feel about that?

 

~Sweet-n-Low. Yep. You read that right. Sweet-n-Low has got me homicidal right now. We have a fucking coffee service that is supposed to provide all of the coffee related accessories. Why is there never enough Sweet-n-Low? Are these cheap ass motherfuckers stealing the shit?  I wouldn’t put it past these assholes.

 

~Child Support. Probably my biggest hot button. If he somehow “accidentally” died, my kids and I would get social security checks reliably every month. Hmmm?

 

I’ll take potpourri for $600 Alex.

pot·pour·ri

Pronunciation: \ˌpō-pu̇-ˈrē\

Function: noun

1 : a mixture of flowers, herbs, and spices that is usually kept in a jar and used for scent

2 : a miscellaneous collection  

 

Definition courtesy of Merriam-Webster.com.

 

I, of course mean the second definition of the word, as they do on Jeopardy (hence the post title). I just have some random shit floating around that I want to throw out there.

 

First and foremost: GO ME!! I quit smoking! I am very happy and very proud of myself. I still have some difficult times, especially in the car on the way to work in the morning. I have to talk myself out of stopping at every single gas station I pass. But on the whole, it is going very well for me. I don't wanna be a smoker anymore. And to reinforce one of the main reasons I am quitting (that would, of course, be my health) I have started regularly running again. Damn I missed that! I had completely forgotten just how much I loved to run. There is nothing more therapeutic in the world for me then my feet pounding the pavement and feeling the wind through my hair. And I can really feel my lung capacity returning to me quickly. I seem to be getting stronger every day. And my hair smells nicer! That's a plus!

 

Our bathrooms are out of commission right now in our office. I have to go use a porta john that is on a construction site. That means that it is used dozens of times a day by construction workers. And let me tell you. Your typical construction worker looks NOTHING like the guy in the diet coke commercials. Most of them super dirty and have hairy ass cracks sticking out at all times. And yes, let us not forget that it is March in Pennsylvania. It is cold out there. I am just so grossed out and pissed off at the whole thing.

 

April is really hairy for me. Soccer and Basketball overlap for one month. Its nuts. I will be running to and from practice or games almost every singe day of the week – for one or both kids.  Im tired already and it hasn't even started yet.

 

That's about all the updating I have time for right now. If I get a free minute I might post some more. Either that or I will actually write something entertaining for a change.

 

 

Yeah Baby!!

Baseball Season is Starting!!!
My favorite time of the year!

Go Sawx!!

The story of Izzy and the Colonel.

Izzy is almost 2 yrs old. When we got him at the shelter they told us he was a male domestic shorthair. After we got him home, we took a peek under his tail and what I saw looked like girl to me. Now, I am no doctor of veterinary medicine, but I thought I would be able to recognize male genetalia when I saw it. We named her Isabel. She was a gift for Shay for her 7th birthday. But she quickly became my baby. She developed an upper respiratory infection (which is quite common among shelter cats) and we had to take frequent trips to the vets for medicine and check ups. On about the third trip the doc was taking the kitty’s temp in the poop hole when he says "Uh Miss? This cat is a boy" He pushes on just the right spot and a little red worm like thing pops out."See? That’s his penis" Oops. Apparently kitten testicles don’t drop and become visable until they are a little older. My bad. Uh, I guess we will call him Izzy.

The little critter quickly became a huge part of our lives. Its hard not to love this cat. He is just the sweetest little loverboy ever. One day, while in the car, Shay says "Mom, I’m a little sad that Izzy really isn’t a girl because now she cant have kittens" I explain to her that although having kittens around the house might be nice, we wouldn’t be able to keep them, and finding homes for all of them and giving them away would be a hard thing to do. "Besides" I added "I plan on getting Izzy fixed very soon" Jared piped up from out of nowhere "Does that mean you are going to turn him back into a girl"?? LOL funny kid.

Fast forward to about a year later. This little orange kitty started hanging around our front porch. He was just a kitten and very friendly. I would sit on the bench on my front porch and hold the little guy while he would purr and fall asleep. He was so sweet. We started feeding him and we named him Fenway. He was coming around all the time and we were growing attached to him. When the weather started to get cooler, I decided that I was gonna take him to the vet, get him cleaned up and vaccinated and bring him in to our home. The moment I made that decision, we never saw Fenway again. I don’t know what happened to the poor little guy but I can only assume the worst. The kids, of course, were devastated. We talked a lot and went back and forth and finally decided to answer an ad in the paper for free kittens. We were in luck! They had one left!

This begins the story of The Colonel:

I get directions from some guy on the phone to go and see the kitty. We pull up to this place and the first thing we see is a little naked kid standing in the window. We knock on the door and Ed Norton’s character from American History X answered. Skinny little prick in a wife beater, covered in tattoos, cigarette hanging out of his mouth and an overflowing ashtray in his hand. We go in through the doorway and step right into white trash world. Naked kids, garbage, and mangy cats all over the place. My children stood right inside the doorway, frozen in horror. The "lady" of the house apparently didn’t consider our company significant enough to bother putting on a bra or even taking any simple personal hygienic steps most would consider a common courtesy. This looker shrieked for the cat thinking (I guess) that he would come running to the sound of a dying bird?? She finally chases the cat down and hands him to me. He is flea infested, dirty, and has an apparent mental disability. (ever see a cat with downs syndrome?) But I could not leave that poor creature in that house. I thanked the nice couple and brought the kitty home with us. He was wormed and de-loused and vaccinated and cleaned up and brought into our home. His official name is Stewie. But I call him the Colonel. He looks a lot like Col. Sanders to me with that kick ass goatee. He is also affectionately called Kentucky Fried Kitty. It took a little bit before Izzy was comfortable with him but now they are the best of buds. They are so cute when they play together.
At his first vet visit, the doc looked into the Colonels ears and apparently missed the beginnings of an earmite infestation. A few months later I had Izzy at the docs for a check up and some booster shots and Dr. Zhoni found a whole colony of those nasty little critters. So now I have to treat both kitties. Poor little guys. I have to hold them down twice a day and give them drops in their ears. They absolutely HATE it. I am all scratched up from this. I just wish I could explain to them that its for their own good. They have no idea why momma is torturing them like this. They aren’t used to getting anything but love from me.
I wonder what the little one is going to do when I get him fixed next week?

Things that piss me off.

In no particular order.

Adults who talk like babies. When conversing with other adults! It is neither cute nor funny. I have no time or patience for you. Get the hell out of my face.

Getting stuck behind a school bus on my commute to work. I am always running late the way it is. They shouldn’t be allowed on major roads.

Having to be at work a 7am. That should be illegal.

Dumbasses with word decals on their vehicles. I was stuck behind a Jeep this morning obviously owned by some jackass named SCOTT who thinks I wouldn’t understand because "It’s a Jeep thing". And get this, this prick even put that stupid Apple sticker that comes with your iPod or any other Mac product on his Jeep. Fuck you Scott. I hate you.

A bad cup of coffee.

SPITTING! Almost every single male I work with chews tobacco and they all spit in the garbage cans. It is frikkin disgusting. They make me want to puke.

Buying Sudafed pisses me off. I love that shit. My sinuses are all fucked up and Sudafed helps me to keep from killing someone because they are stupid (inevitably) and I have had a sinus headache for three days straight. But I hate having to go to the pharmacy and buy one box at a time, sign a stupid piece of paper, provide three forms of identification, only to have the dumbass pharmacy assistant look me up and down and question to herself whether or not I plan to manufacture meth. I don’t even know why people make meth with that shit, it is plenty good the way it is.

Pennsylvania drivers. Pretty much all of them.

Any song that contains the word "Shorty"

My neighbors. They park their cars all over the damn place not giving a shit if anyone else has a place to park near their house. (yea - on street parking pisses me off too) Their stupid cat shits on my back porch all the time and their ugly dog barks constantly. They all suck and I wish they would move.

I feel so violated.

Only me… seriously. I might be the only person in the world that shit like this happens to…

 

 

So the other day, at work, I need to hang up some prints on the wall in our main conference room. I am standing on a chair (its back is against the wall) reaching up to staple the corner (I bet you think you know where this is going…but I’m tellin ya right now, you have NO CLUE) I get one corner down and I step over to another chair to staple the other corner. I go to hop off of the chair that I am on, not noticing that there is another chair right behind me and I land on the corner edge of this straight back chair ramming it RIGHT UP MY ASS!  owww! Hits me square in the butt hole. About how high do you think your standard run of the mill office chair is? I don’t know, but I would guess it’s about, ohh… a foot and a half higher than my ass. Did you get that visual? Ugh! It hurt so bad.

 

And my bung hole wasn’t the only thing injured. If I am going to be anally raped by office furniture, of course I am going to need an audience right? Oh yea. There were about 6 men in the conference room at the time to witness my trauma. They tried to act concerned when they saw me struggling to breathe and in obvious pain but they had a very difficult time maintaining their composure. They were biting their tongues and almost crying trying not to laugh. And to top it all off, I come in my office to a big ass danger sign and caution tape all over my desk chair. My sore ass was quite the source of amusement around here.

 

And now that I have had time to rest and recover from the trauma, I can giggle too. I can see the humor there. Believe me, I am about as mature as a 15 yr old boy. That is some funny shit.

 

Embarrassing as hell, but funny nonetheless.

 

I should be able to walk normally soon.

 

 

Wow. Thats deep.

So, recently a friend asked the question “What do you think about when you are alone in your head”? You know, like when you are driving to work or standing in line at the bank or whatever. She was curious as to what other people thought about when they weren’t thinking of anything at all. My answer to the question was “I don’t know… Stuff”

 

Then, for a brief moment on my commute to work this morning, I was aware of my inner thoughts. Stuff that usually just flows in and out stuck around just long enough for me to realize what I was thinking and for the reality to sink in that I just might be a nutjob. Seriously folks, try to pay attention to the random thoughts that go through your head on any given day. There is some pretty weird shit going on in there.

 

So. What was it you ask? What was I thinking about when I suddenly became aware of my thoughts? Well… I was seriously pondering who I would rather be. Oprah Winfrey or Jane Jetson.

 

Yes. Really.

 

It’s not a simple question though. There are a lot of pros and cons to be weighed here. Oprah is Oprah. The queen of all Media. Possibly the most powerful woman on the planet. But even Oprah doesn’t have Rosie the Robot Maid, right? And even though she has more money than she can give away on a years worth of those shows where she is just giving shit away (sorry, I work during the day, I don’t actually watch Oprah), and she can sponsor like 100,000 more kids in Africa for 35 cents a day and still not put a dent in the size of her bank account, Oprah goes home at night to her dogs. I don’t know if that Steadman fellow lives with her or not. But regardless, I’m sure the Winfrey Mansion is nothing like the loving Jetson home. I can just imagine what a day in the life of Jane Jetson is like. We all know that George drops the kids off at school first, and then Jane goes to the mall (with the entire contents of Georges wallet!!) and George just smiles and thinks to himself “That Jane!!” and he is off to another day at Spacely Sprockets. Jane’s first stop at the mall would be to the space age equivalent of Starbucks for a big old non-fat mocha latte. Of course, Jane could get the full fat version because she is forever drawn to be a perfect size two and will neither age nor gain weight. Jane shops leisurely for most of the day, gets her hair done and has a pedicure (ya know, ‘cause its Tuesday). Around lunchtime, she dials up Rosie her robot maid on her little TV transmitter remote watch and tells her that she will be home by noon. “I will have a grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup with a nice Caesar salad for lunch. Then I want you to draw me a bath and turn down my bed for a nap.”  By the time she hops in her flying car and arrives home, Rosie has all the preparations made. Ahhh. Sounds nice huh? Now, to be fair, Oprah can have most of these things too. Im sure one phone call to her personal assistant will get her what ever it is her heart desires, but a personal assistant has nothing on a robot maid. I don’t think you have to worry about any jewelry going missing around your robot maid. I don’t think any disgruntled robot maids are gonna sell stories or pictures to the media for their own personal gain. Oprah does have power, but along with that power comes the burden of fame. And it’s a pretty heavy burden. One that I don’t think I would want to bear. So for as much as I love Oprah, I am giving my nod to Jane. Robot maids pretty much trump anything.

 

So, I’m guessing you are feeling a little better about yourself after having read this, huh? Yea, ‘cause I’m sure your thoughts are always all deep and philosophical right?

 

Whatever…

 

 

Jumping back in.

I seem to have lost my words. I don’t know how or where but they left me. I cannot tell you how many times I have started writing something only to delete it in disgust. I noticed that my blog has been getting a lot of hits and I am sure you are all wondering where I’ve been. I am alive, and doing quite well actually. I just don’t seem to be able to write anymore. I hope this isn’t a permanent condition. I am also hoping that just by typing this out and posting something…anything it will kick start my dormant creativity.

I miss writing. Not only did I love writing and posting here, but I used to journal (with a real pen!! Imagine that.) almost daily. And now? Nothing! And I am none too happy about it.

So I’m hitting post in the hopes that I will be back soon.

 

 

Today is that day.

I have drawn the line.

On one side of that line is where I was the last few months. I seem to have forgotten that I have the power to control my circumstances. And in that memory lapse came a horrible struggle that left me feeling defeated. I haven't posted (or even written for that matter) since July. And the last two months have been crap piled on top of shit. Every time I tried to sit down and write all that would come out was whining and complaining about all the shit that was going on. And it wasn't helping at all. It just made me feel worse. It was a vicious cycle of self-pity and more bad energy that manifests from all that negativity. It was exhausting. And it left me feeling stressed out, and very unwell. I have written before about my tendencies to seek instant gratification when I am in times of turmoil. There is nothing to be gained instantly. Every bit of comfort I would seek would inevitably leave me feeling much worse in the end.

So here I am, on the other side of that line. Over here there is no more feeling sorry for myself. I just went back and re read my "Take the Power Back" post. (sorry no link, it shouldn't be too hard for you to find if you want to) and even though that post was born out of anger, I still need remember the strength I felt after writing it. It was incredibly empowering. And today, for the first time in months, I am starting to feel that power again. It is up to me to turn this around. No one will do this for me. Its my life, I'm driving the motherfucking bus right?!?! Its time to be good to myself. I am more than ready to leave the last few months far behind me.

Do you hear that friends? That's optimism in my voice.

Onward and upward.

This is too funny not to share!

I got this email today from a guy I work with. I honestly cannot stop laughing. I keep looking at it and every time I do, I laugh till I cry!!

They found Chris Farley. He was reincarnated as a 3 yr old girl…….

I am DYING over here!!!!

Getting it off my chest

So, I had total breakdown Sunday night. If you got a random and unusual text message from me (I sent a few – Hi Tara!!), now you know why, I had temporarily vacated my head.

I really don’t know what sparked it. I was at backyard cookout with some friends, having a really good time. Pretty much everyone there was married and a lot of them were asking me what happened with Brian and I, and then Brian called out of the blue which sort of sent me into a tailspin and I proceeded to get pretty drunk and then BAM! Meltdown.(I walked home before I melted down, thank goodness there was no public spectacles or anything and its also a good thing my friend only lives a block away) So I sat on my bed and sobbed and screamed for a good hour. It felt pretty good to get it all out. I am totally pissed at myself that it happened in the first place though. I should be stronger. I should not be upset by shit like this.

I do know that I am spending too much time stressing over shit I have no control over. Its just so much all at once. Of course there is the whole wishing oranges could be apples thing. I’m just banging my head against the wall with that. Other contributing factors (in no particular order):

• Ex husband completely disappeared. Hadn’t heard from him in almost a month. The kids were asking me daily where daddy was and I had no idea how to answer. :( He finally called me on Saturday with some bullshit excuse that he’s “had a rough couple of weeks”. Unless you are in a coma, there is NO excuse for not calling your kids. I had had it up to here with that man and I just tore into him. I really didn’t want to go back there. I was finally at a point where I could have some sort of civil relationship with him and now I am back to carrying around all sorts of hate and anger. I don’t want it, dammit!!

• I have some sort of medical problem going on. Docs cant figure out what it is. I don’t feel horrible, but I am getting these weird pains and they are running all sorts of tests and giving me all kinds of drugs till they figure out what the hell is going on. I am really tired of not being well. I just want this to be over with.

• Money. Need I say more?? There is never enough. Shit just keeps coming up to take more of it away from me.

Ah well. Such is life right? I’ll get over it or through it or whatever. Hopefully without too many more breakdowns.

Apples and Oranges – a metaphorical comparison.

Lets just say for a moment that you could never have both apples and oranges. You had to choose one or the other. And if for some reason, you decided to pick the apple but snuck a bite of an orange, then you could have neither.

So, for arguments sake, lets compare the two:

Apples are comfortable. They give you what you need every time. Completely reliable and somewhat predictable. There is a degree of satisfaction that you glean from the apple. Because of its predictable nature, you can pretty much get whatever response you want from it. If you need comfort, there it is. If you need affection, you got it. The apple pretty much delivers each and every time. Consistant, but a little boring.

Oranges are exciting. Just the thought of the orange can give your tummy those fun butterflies. The orange is somewhat mysterious. An enigma. You never know how that fruit is going to taste until you bite into it. Some days it can be the sweetest thing you have ever tasted, and then the very next time you try it, it can be bitter and hard to swallow. But the sweet days, oh the sweet days, are so intoxicating that you can almost forget when it disappoints…..almost.

I thought about the idea of making a scrumptious fruit salad. How cool would it be to take the best parts of each fruit and have them both at once? But honestly, this entire discussion is pointless because I cant have apples. Not anymore. I have developed a sensitivity to pectin or something and I can no longer eat them. If I did, it would be bad. I just wish I could make the orange a little more apple-like. Honestly, I really enjoy the excitement I get from the orange. It is a hell of a lot of fun. But I miss the reliability and the comfort of the apples. I don’t think the orange can ever be capable of providing me with that.

While I realize that there is a lot more fruit out there for me to taste, I know some things for sure.
~I have to stay away from the apples. Looking to them for comfort will only cause me to get a tummy ache.
~I cannot let myself get attached to the orange. Because there is a very real possibility that the fruit will turn bitter on me. And I don’t want to keep going back for another taste and get sour time after time. That doesn’t sound like fun.

I wish I didn’t like fruit so much. But I don’t think I would any be happier if I went the rest of my life without it. Whats that old saying? Its better to have tasted the fruit and gotten sick then never to have eaten fruit at all???

Yea. Something like that.

No more DQ Blizzards for lunch.

That pan post was incredibly cathartic. It really got me thinking. And now I want to elaborate on the whole deal and maybe dig a little deeper and see what I unearth.

 

You see, I have found myself falling into old patterns of self destruction. I have been making some really stupid decisions lately that are not in my best interest at all. And that’s nothing new for me. When I am dealing with things (or putting things off and waiting to deal with them as the case may be) I tend to seek out instant gratification without any care or concern of what tomorrow will bring. And especially at times like these, I really should concentrate on taking care of myself. I am too old to carry that state of mind. Really. I guess it was ok when I was in my early 20’s. The bad decisions and their consequences had a much lesser impact then. But now I have more to lose. And I am fucking smarter than that. I know I am but I am not behaving as such.

 

 I seriously piss myself off sometimes. I just wish I got me better. I do shit that makes no damn sense. And the thing is, outwardly, I am a very intelligent person. I have come so far in life. From where I was even just 5 years ago, to where I am right now is perfectly remarkable. But when I look at who I am today and the way I think and the way I act, I cannot fucking believe it. Like I have done all of this despite myself. I suppose the only bright side is that I have been here before. I am not in unfamiliar territory. And that helps to make me think that this too shall pass. I know that I will not only get through, I will overcome and come out stronger on the other side. But right now. Right now? NOT FUCKING GOOD.

 

I really would be much better off if I dealt with adversity better. If my struggles were met with more confidence and less of whatever the fuck I think I am doing to myself now.

 

Sheesh….hopefully by the time I hit the big Four-Oh I will have gotten my shit together.

 

hopefully

 

 

Only like, the best analogy - EVER!!!

Seems like all I am able to write about lately is silly surface crap . Stupid diets and other such trivial nonsense. I started plenty of times to sit down and let the words sort of spill out, but I must be in self preservation mode. I am pretty sure I have thrown up a couple of blocks to not allow myself to go anywhere too deep. Its understandable. And oh so typically Carrie. I guess for me it is easier to block or bury the feelings then it is to actually deal with them. Sure the buried emotions are likely to surface later as an eating disorder or a chemical dependency, but why worry about later when I can be pain free and oblivious now?? (that was a joke. Please don’t send me any emails asking if I’m ok or anything)

All kidding aside, I don’t think I actually bury the feelings, at least not permanently. I just push them away for a while until they are no longer too uncomfortable to go near. I guess what I am saying is, I am letting the burnt pan cool down before I attempt to wash it.
How’s that for a fucking analogy?? Huh? That was some good shit there!

I will get to the burnt pan. I will. I will dissect the mess and eventually clean it up. The pan might not get totally clean. It might be scorched or scarred. But that will just add character and integrity to the pan. And for those who might be worried about me, either about my state of well being at the moment or about how I will come out on the other side of the fire. Please know this, I really do love that pan. Its my favorite as a matter of fact. And I will treat the pan well and do what I can to preserve it. I promise. But right now, that pan is just way too hot to touch. It kind of sucks to know that I started the fire that burned the pan. And it also sucks to know that the pan wasn’t all that got hurt. There were other casualties of this reckless arson. And I’m afraid there isn’t anything I can do about that now.

Who knows what the future holds for me? Anything can happen.
Me and my pan are going to make it through just fine.
We always do.

Summation.

OK so I only journaled the first three days of that stupid diet.

 I was super busy at work on day 4 and days 5 and 6 I wasn’t home.

Heres the wrap-up….. Didn’t really do much for me. I did lose 6 lbs but after two days of eating somewhat normally, I have gained two back. So I just lost a lot of water weight.  I did find out though that I feel pretty darn good when I give up the dairy. I think that might have to be a permanent change in the diet. I felt less bloated, less sluggish, and had way fewer tummy problems. So that’s a really good thing.  And I am extremely happy to report that I have been feeling wonderfully lately. I seem to have regained a fair bit of energy and enthusiasm. I cannot tell you the last time I took a nap. That is pretty frikkin huge for me. I used to be a daily napper. And on weekends, my naps would be 3 or 4 hours long. I had nothing on my plate all afternoon yesterday and the kids were with their dad and I didn’t even nap then. Amazing! I used to spend so much time feeling tired and crappy. And it seems that lately, that somehow just lifted. I don’t really understand, but I sure am psyched about it.

 

So that is all you have to hear from me on that stupid 6 day diet thing. Thank you for your patience, we will now return to regular programming.

 

 

 

Day Three:

I hopped on the scale today and I am down another lb. That makes 5. Not too shabby, but I know it aint fat I’m losing and I will probably gain it all back once I start eating normally again. So remind me again why it is I am doing this??

 

Ugh. Anyway, I was super busy at work today, but totally pre occupied with food. Someone brought cake into the conference room! I hate that person whoever they are! Oh how I wanted that cake! I am not doing very well with eating as much and as often as I should. That’s why I am pretty sure I am not losing any body fat. My clothes don’t fit any differently. But I am going to keep up with it. I have challenged myself to go the whole 6 days and I am going to do it.

 

Didn’t work out yesterday. Gonna really try to make up for that tonight.

 

I will check back in tomorrow.

 

 

Day two:

Whoa! I hopped on the scale this morning and I am down 4 lbs!!! I know it aint fat. I don’t think that’s possible. But I like to see the scale moving. I will be honest with you and say that I know exactly why I lost the LB’s. It seems that my body did not want to hold on to anything I ate or drank yesterday. I had to run to the bathroom for complete and urgent eliminations very frequently. (yuk, I know, sorry) I like to think that it is all my body fat liquefying and coming out my ass. If that’s the case, then I will gladly continue on. Much easier to get it out that way then to actually burn it off! OK that’s enough of that – that’s even too gross for me.

 

Day two is gonna be rough. I know it. I have no appetite whatsoever. The thought of food makes me ill. How the hell am I going to choke down six meals? I guess I should at least try. I spent all that time packaging them up for myself.

 

I will probably add more later. Right now, I’m gonna try to eat some hardboiled eggwhites with no salt…yum.

 

 

Day one:

Its 3 pm and I have already filled up my 20 oz water bottle 4 times. (that’s 80 oz for those of you who are mathematically impaired) I thought it would be harder to drink that much water, but its working out fine. The food is bland but tolerable. Its not a lot of food, I just don’t like having to eat so often. But day one is almost down, and I am hanging in there. Not too shabby.

 

Although I really do want to go home and re read the book to see if beer is allowed. I could really use a beer.

 

Oh well.

 

 I will update you on the status of my progress in the am.

 

 

 

 

 

Pardon my appearance...

I am currently under construction.

 

The content of this blog over the next few days will be a little different as I chronicle my newest undertaking. A bunch of women I know have done this 6 day diet thing and have seen amazing results – so, of course, being the fucking lemming that I am, I’m gonna do it too.

 

Here is the lowdown – you have to eat small portions of certain foods 6 times a day according you’re your body type which you determine by answering some questions in the book. (I am a Type B, by the way)  Small amounts of lean protein (chicken, turkey, egg whites, and fish) plus a cup of veggies or some amount of brown rice. That is pretty much it, but you gotta drink 100 oz of water and continue working out.

 

I think I can handle that. Shit, I’m pretty sure I can do anything for 6 days. And I need to do this, for several reasons:

1) I don’t eat enough. I know I don’t. I think my body is constantly in starvation mode because I have no regular eating schedule and most of the time I don’t eat any meal but lunch. NOT GOOD. I hope this will help to get me into a better routine and kick start my metabolism. 2) I cannot fit into ANY of my shorts from last year. Ugh. I have been doing really well with taking care of myself lately but I need to see better results because I can feel my motivation draining. 3) the big three-oh is next week. If I can do anything to feel even a tiny bit better about that – I am going to do it. I am not depressed about turning 30. But I am disappointed in myself because I thought for sure I would have more, be more, done more, by this time in my life. So at the very least, I wont be disappointed in myself because my pants aren’t fitting well.

 

If this works well, there is an expanded 6 week program I might try. Why the hell not?

 

But I do intend to journal the diet because I think it will help to keep me on track, I have never been very much of a regimented person. And I am going to journal it here because I aint about to go and create another blog just for this.

 

Sorry if I bore you to pieces over the next few days with this. But, you know, this is my blog. Get your own if you don’t like it.

 

I’m kidding! Don’t go away! Please. I think like 4 people actually read here. I value each and every one of you. I promise to try to inject as much wit and humor into my posts as possible to keep you entertained. OK?

 

 

 

 

Sheesh.....(alternately titled: Ramblings)

I have been at work for eight hours already (only two more to go!!) and I haven’t won a single game of solitaire yet. I think that means I should pack it up for the day. I am obviously not meant to be here.

 

I met a girl today. I think her name was Shannon, I will have to find out for sure. Anyway, she is going to be working in the plant my company is building. I got the best vibe from this girl, like, immediately. She reminded me so much of my friend Erin from back in CT. I miss her friendship so much, I think about her often. Anyway, I hope my first instinct about this girl is correct. I am going to chat with her a little tomorrow.

I like new people. And she’s got definite friend potential.

 

I am on day freakin thirty four of a cycle that is only 28 days in normal women. I am so damn sick and tired of dealing with this womanly crap. Right now, I feel so tired and fat and bloated and cranky. No fun. And I really want to feel better immediately because…..

 

I am going out with some peeps from work tonight. I am really looking forward to that. This whole reality of actually loving my job and wanting to hang out with the people I work with is so wonderfully foreign to me. I would duck into a different isle at Wal-Mart to avoid running into the people from my last job. I hated every one of those assholes. But this is way different. I really like everyone here and we usually have a great time when we get together after work. So I hope my crampy, bloated, yukkiness goes away soon so I can enjoy myself tonight.

 

I realized recently that I don’t have any plans. At all. For anything….. Summer plans, Birthday plans, vacation plans, life plans. Nada.

I need to make some plans. I feel loserish with no plans. That task seems a bit daunting, I mean, plans can be anything from going out for lunch to writing a novel. That’s a big ole blank canvas. I think I will start small, but think big. I like my plan to make plans. I’m feeling pretty good about it.

 

 

More later………