Listening to this in the very wee hours of the morning as I crept my way through even more work made for some interesting moments. Felt like I should have been in some slo-mo dance-club scene in an indie movie.
(Do I have any idea what I'm talking about? Eh. And this is partly why I don't imbibe. I'm slightly off due to weird, wonky lack of sleep. I can't even imagine what spirits would add to the mix. (Hmm...sleep?) And, yes, I have a chaffeur for the next few days.)
Okay, actually I took Saturday off, but pretty much regretted the living daylights out of that because it lead to a seriously ridiculous amount of hours of work yesterday. (I'd be more specific, but I don't want to think about it.)
There are many more hours of work for me to do today, although, sigh, it's closing in on nine.
So I might be kind of counting down the hours until I can take a ridiculous nap. And I think that number of hours is something like 625ish. Zzzzz.
Blogher's NaBlo prompt from a couple of Friday's ago: "Where is the one place you would never want to go on vacation that other people seem to love?"
City-type places. People talk about going to places like New York or Paris or Tokyo and other such places, and I can think how I might like to go to those places...if just about everyone who lives there was vacationing elsewhere.
I like the idea of seeing a play on Broadway. I like the idea of eating in these places. I don't like the idea of being jostled by so many others.
Here's my kind of ideal: walking paths, little places to eat, coffeehouses (for the tea), bookshops, libraries, and second-hand stores. Not my ideal: big buildings, lots of cars, lots of people. I'm kind of boring like that.
Yes, I'm at the point of using the prompts. What can I say? I worked a bunch of hours today, a whole bunch this week. I'm tired. I'm stocking up on even more articles to read and preparing to delve into Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix while dreaming about reading fluff pretty soon. (In other words, well, I'm inundated with words. Barely any of my own words are currently swirling around my head.)
I have come to the conclusion that exercise is just bad for me.
On Monday, despite being tired and tempted to leave work to go home and be a lump, I dutifully did workout stuff. But the second I was finished, all I could think about was what I wanted to eat. And I wanted mashed potatoes and pizza and hot chocolate and something decadently delicious for dessert.
I might have only consumed some of that (okay, the decadence would have come in had we something suitable at home), but it was enough. Seriously. Does it ever change?
Do some people just exercise and finish up thinking, "My that was refreshing! That fulfilled some need. I don't need to eat junk now. How about I go nibble on a bunch of spinach." And if there are those people, why am I not one of them.
(Oh, the junk I've eaten since then, too. I'm only so-so with the healthful eating this week. And I wonder why I'm tired. Okay, so I know why I'm tired.)
(Also, I'm kind of hoping I've sworn off store-bought cupcakes for now. I love the idea of them, and they often sound so ridiculously good, but they pretty much never taste very good to me. I don't really like cake that much, but I do like a good homemade cake, so I know it's not a complete aversion to cupcakes. (If only.) I think one day I'll be a little less lazy and actually bake a batch.)
I often look up perfectly normal words. Words I use all of the time. I like to see if there are any nuances of meaning I'm unaware of.
Typing something to someone today, I wanted to use the word "typeface." I know there's a difference between "typeface" and "font," but I wasn't sure what it was. As far as I can now tell, it's something like the difference between speed and velocity. Velocity includes both speed and direction. (Why, yes, I did take physics oh-so-long ago.
"Typeface" is a set of type. "Font" is a particular type in a particular size.
No? That's the story I got when I looked it up, so it's what I'm going with.
I am in the last long jaunt through a big chunk of my work for this year (I'm on an August through August schedule). (I'm sitting here, exhausted, trying to figure out how to make that appropriately vague, yet sensical.)
I'm aware every minute of every day now that my kid is growing so quickly and that I'm working most of everyone's waking hours and I don't want to come out of this with regrets. Regrets that I didn't do more with her before she moves off on her own. I certainly don't want a "Cat's in the Cradle" situation on my hands. Geez. (Oh, my goodness, I'm so entirely overly-dramatic, I know. I have years before she reaches adulthood, but when I get into this mindset, we might as well be celebrating her eighteenth next week.)
Pic and I haven't played a card game in way longer than I'd like to admit. It's been months since we've been to the kids' museum. We've barely hit the library in the last few months. That video project I wanted to get Pic started on? Ha. Yeah, that.
I think I'm doing the best I can to hold it all together, but I'm also pinning a lot of hopes on my upcoming year at work (so, so far away...see above about August marking the start of my new work year). I'm trying to think of all of this year as a learning experience. I'm taking as many notes and keeping as detailed a schedule as I can possibly handle right now so that next year will run all the more smoothly (please, please, please).
I can do my job and be good at it. I can be a parent and be good at it. I can be a spouse and be decent at it (that might be an area in which I struggle more). But I am still trying to figure out how to do it all at the same time. (And, yes, I am aware that I sound like the very cliché of a mamma who works full-time outside of her home.)
Right now, I feel like I'm sometimes just barely getting by, but I have high hopes (high-apple-pie-in-the-sky-hopes) that this time next year, Pic and I will have things dialed in just so much more.