SLEEPY because I had to get up earlier than usual to get Joe to the airport. He wanted to go to Buffalo to visit his mom before he gets caught up in this big project he’ll be working on in St. Louis. He told me last night that he needed to be at the airport at 5:30. Bleargh. That’s early. Granted that we can leave the house at 5:15 and be at the airport at 5:30, so it’s not really so awful. And that would have given me time to get back home and finish getting ready for work. But this is Joe we’re talking about, who rarely gets anywhere on time. So I ended up not having time to get back home to finish getting ready for work, but having far too much time before work. So I went to Tom Thumb and got a carton of organic milk, a box of organic frosted flakes (more on that later), and then sat in my car in front of my office and worked on a crossword puzzle for 15 minutes until my badge would permit me to have access to my office.
DOPEY because of being sleepy. I missed the exit to the airport. In all fairness to myself, I must point out that there is an exit to get onto another freeway right with the exit to the airport, and I haven’t been to the airport in over a year, AND it was before 6 a.m. So I took the next exit so I could turn around. I was waiting at the signal, and when it turned green, my brain said that I needed to turn left, ergo it must be a green arrow, so I started to turn. Joe started to yell just as my brain registered that the oncoming traffic was coming at me. I stopped just in time. Of course there wasn’t a green arrow. So I nearly got us both killed. I managed to get to the airport without any further trauma, but almost missed the exit to get to the right terminal. Fortunately, Joe had by then realized that I was dopey, so he was on the alert.
More dopiness: I just got an email from my sr VP in another state wanting to know where the morning reports were. I was bewildered, and started to respond that I emailed them to him at 7:20. Just before I hit send, I realized that although I had pulled the reports, and printed them for my local VP and senior managers, I never e-mailed them. Yeah. Just call me Dopey today.
YAWNY – It kind of goes along with the Sleepy. I can’t stop yawning. It reminds me of the other night when Izzybella and I were going home from a meeting at Soleil’s. We were doing synchronized yawning. Think we could petition to have it made an Olympic sport? We were definitely exercising our jaws.
CURIOUS - Curious wants to know why the organic milk has a much longer shelf life than the milk from cows that got growth hormones and all the yickies. And how come the organic frosted flakes have 5 grams of fiber per serving when the regular frosted flakes don’t have any fiber? I found the organic frosted flakes to be much more filling, so I actually ate less. That was nice. So yeah, they cost a little more, but I felt good. I wasn’t getting the yickies, and I ate less, and I got the fiber. It’s a win-win, as I figure it. But yeah, when I picked up my carton of organic milk, I saw that its buy-by date was July 24. Today is June 19th. That’s a long shelf life, compared to the regular milk, that might have a 7-day shelf life. Anyone have an answer? I’ll go exploring when I get time, of course, but answers and input are always appreciated.
EXCITED because we had a read-through of the script last night. It’s going to be a good show. I’m ready to get to work. The one scene that I thought was going to be all Spanish ended up being a mixture of Spanish and English. This is a good thing. I know I could have learned it in Spanish, but see, I can pronounce Spanish, I just don’t know what I’m saying. For the most part, anyway. That’s a shameful admission from someone who studied Spanish for three years in high school and one in college, isn’t it? Oh, well. At least I can pronounce it well. You should hear someone else I know try to pronounce Spanish. I shall name no names. But I got a good laugh out of it, nonetheless. 
ENCHANTED by Sting and his CD “Songs from the Labyrinth.” If you haven’t heard it, it’s worth a listen. I just checked Amazon, and it only has a 3 1/2 star rating. Oh, well. I still like it. It’s 17th century lute music composed by John Dowland, performed by Sting, interspersed with Sting reading snippets of letters written by Dowland. I like it. I actually more than like it.
AMUSED when I noticed that Joe seems to think me incapable of taking care of our dog while he’s away. I saw that he poured her three–count ‘em, THREE–dishes of dog food for her. He also got her a HUGE bowl of water, and set out three bottles of water right next to it so that it won’t be too hard for me to refill her water bowl. Please! Like I’m not going to take care of my baby! I don’t feed her while he’s home, but that’s because he always feeds her and I don’t want to double-feed her. She already needs to lose about 6 pounds, and if we’re both feeding her she’ll get even more overweight. But when he’s away from home, I always feed and water her. She’s not going to suffer, I promise, from anything other than missing him. When he gets home on Saturday evening, she will glue herself to his side and tell him how I didn’t pay her any attention at all, and she’s been completely deprived of all love whatsoever. The dirty rotten liar!
