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Archive for May 10th, 2007

Booking Through Thursday

Booking Through Thursday asks: Apparently the question I should have asked last week was not where, but where not?

So where do I not read?

  • Well, unless you’re counting shampoo bottles, I don’t read in the shower.
  • And unless you count billboards and road signs, I don’t read when I’m driving. Um, except I do read while I’m stopped at traffic signals. Does that count as while I’m driving?
  • I don’t read when I’m asleep, but sometimes I dream I’m reading.
  • I don’t dream while I’m in meetings for work, but sometimes if they’re boring meetings, I’ll start surreptitiously writing on a current project.
  • I don’t read while I’m grocery shopping. Well, I read labels, but that’s not reading exactly. Although I do read while I’m waiting in the checkout line.
  • I don’t read while I’m having my annual well woman exam, but I’d rather be!

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The boob’s hurting today. I’m really dang tired of the boob hurting. Just gotta say.

I have two new friends sitting atop my computer. One is a grey dragon named Norbert, and the other is a green and yellow dragon named Humphrey. Humphrey is holding a crystal ball, and Norbert’s taking a nap. I like my dragons. They have loads of personality and deserve better than to be sitting atop my computer to keep me company, and yet I’m so glad they’re there.

I returned to Weight Watchers yesterday, after an overlong long absence. The Wednesday afternoon leader is a good one, and it seems like a decent meeting. The time slot also works for me–it gives me time to get home and change clothes after work, and on the nights I have to go to rehearsals, I’ll still have time to get to the meeting first and still get to rehearsal on time. I was up about 4.4 pounds; part of that is, of course, due to the stress eating I’ve been doing, and part is due to the difference in weight between 6:30 a.m. and 5:00 p.m. I’m not too concerned about it–it’ll come off quickly. It feels good to be back on program and accountable to myself again.  I’m not going to be able to exercise for at least another 4-6 weeks, but I can get the diet under control again in the meantime.

We got another thunderstorm yesterday evening, but it was early enough that I was still awake. It seems like it’s stormed every night this week. The drought has definitely broken, thank heavens. Our grass is as green as it can be, and if Joe doesn’t get outside and cut the grass it will be waist high ere long. Our hedges are as high as my head, and he flat out refuses to cut those for some odd reason. So I guess they’ll have to wait until I’ve been cleared to wield the hedge-trimmer.

I’ve been reading lots of plays the last several days. One I particularly enjoyed was “The Day the Whores Came Out to Play Tennis” by Arthur Kopit. It’s this hilariously sad little play about a group of men who are desperately trying to maintain the status quo at their country club, despite the appearance of a group of bare-assed whores who have come to play tennis.  The men are barricaded in the nursery playing cards; the butler finally puts on one of their tennis outfits and goes out to join the whores, who after defiantly raising their skirts and blatting out a trumpetlike and truly stencharific fart symphony, have begun hurling tennis balls at the windows of the building. It’s sad, as I say, but hilarious at the same time.  Another Kopit play that I like quite well is “Chamber Music,” set in an asylum and featuring a cast of women who believe themselves to be such noteworthy people as Gertrude Stein, Mrs. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Osa Johnson, and Joan of Arc, among others. That would be a fun one to perform, I think.

I’ve got the blahs something fierce this week. I don’t know why, save that the week is just dragging slowly by, and I’ve been hurting a bit this week. Every morning I argue with myself. I lay on the couch (where I’ve been sleeping to prevent myself from rolling over in the night on my stomach and flattening the boob that should not be flattened just now) after the alarm goes off, and tell myself I don’t have to go in to work today. And then I tell myself actually I do, and I get up and start dressing. And then I say that if I get up and get dressed really quickly, I can go lie down again for 15 more minutes before I have to leave. And then I say it’s a deal, and I get dressed really quickly, and go lie down again for 15 more minutes. And what’s really sad is I frequently fall asleep during that 15 minutes, and wake up startled when the alarm goes off again and wakes me up. But I dutifully get up at that point, kiss the husband and the dog good-bye, and head out the door.  It’s at those times that I wonder why I always push for a 7-4 shift. Of course, when I’m breezing out the office door at 4 p.m., I’m very grateful that I always push for a 7-4 shift. I like getting off at 4 p.m. It’s nice. I mean, if I have to work at all, at least I get off at 4 instead of 5 or 6, right?

WUMB is fantastic!!! I’ve been listening to the contemporary folk station all day. I heart it. They play wonderful music. Unfortunately, the firewall at work doesn’t permit the playlist to show, so I have no idea who I’m listening to. That means I can’t go buy the CDs of the artists I like, because I don’t know who they are.

See? Even when I’m finding something good to talk about, I find something to whinge about. So I think I’m going to quit talking today. Apparently all I can do is whinge and complain. Sorry ’bout that.

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