Overprocessing

Well, my rent just went up.

I got the list of "early bird" prices, and suddenly it no longer includes utilities. It also does not include pet rent. The price varies by the length of the lease, and they have it figured out for everything from four to thirteen months. The best price, of course, is one year. All is not lost, though. My kind person in the office is asking the manager to call me and suggested I write an email pleading my case. That may help, plus I think my cat just died.

So why not sign a year? Because I was planning to move in the spring. Now wrenches are being thrown in all over the place. Some are excellent, golden wrenches; some are covered in poop. Why did I think this would work out smoothly?

I have already thought about this a lot today and was about to tell you the details, but it's 8:30, the groceries need to be put away, and the computer is threatening to update and restart.  I'll tell you about it all tomorrow.  For now, though, two things.

1) Why do I like making things with eggs much more than eating eggs?

and

2) Why do I always end up wearing contacts (and therefore, sunglasses) on cloudy, dark days?

Monday's blog attempt

Just finished a free workout with a personal trainer.  He taught me a routine that I can do at the gym or at home and encouraged me to go to Zumba, especially with the more intense teachers. 

That was as much of a blog as I could write when I got home on Monday before I felt like I was going to throw up.

20 calls and hour and a blog

On CNN this morning, some correspondent was saying that the royal couple would be out tonight for a charity event, and that Kate would be wearing "a dress and some jewelry."

In other amusing news, I brought my syringe box along to work today because I'm supposed to go exchange it at the hospital.  It was in my bag, still open in case I can't go today, and it almost sucked my keys in.  Can you imagine?  Diabeetus problems.

And speaking of diabeetus, I got here this morning at the same time as our pharmacist.  We chatted a bit, then he asked if that was a Diet Coke I was holding.  Yyyeeesss.  "It's the diet you've really got to watch out for," he reminded me again.  "It tricks the pancreas."

Dammit, this is the only vice I've got left.  If I let this one go, I'll surely be eating seaweed and taking up running, and that is clearly unacceptable.

And I forgot I haven't told you about this meeting I had with a personal trainer.  I got a free session because I have been a gym member for six months now.  I totally walked up to the front desk and said, "I got the email," as if they were going to know what I was talking about, as if everybody got one.  I am so slow sometimes.

So I had the personal training session on Monday, and have been having trouble with stairs ever since.  We talked for a while and only did a fifteen minute workout that beat the shit out of me.  The challenge was to do as many rounds of 15 squats, 10 situps, and 5 pushups as possible within 10 minutes.  The squats are the ones like kids do, keeping your feet flat and pushing your butt out, but holding your arms out as counterbalance.  For the situps, you swing your arms to use the momentum, and you touch your ankles, but not your head.  Pushups of the girly variety, hands wider than the shoulders, fingers spread.  I did the math wrong, Ma.  I didn't do 60 squats- I did 75.  I did four full rounds and 15 squats before the time ran out.  Then we did planks.  Apparently, my squats, situps, and pushups are at the level expected for someone who is not particularly active, but my planks are especially pathetic.  He was actually complimentary of my squats, saying that it normally takes several sessions for someone to figure out how to do them right.  I'm a little in awe of how many I did, but it was hard not to when he was cheering me on.

He said I would be sore and would need to rest for about four days.  He was not kidding.  Today was the first day I could get down the stairs without the handrail, though it is still pretty difficult.  Tonight is Zumba- will I go?  Yesterday, I would have laughed.  Today I think it might be possible.

She is a leftie

After Riley has her last potty at night, she gets a cookie. Tonight I took a while, puttering around. She impatiently waited. When I walked back into the bedroom, she gave me a 'sup nod, like, "Oh, there you are, are we doing this or what?" I waited more, putting the cookie aside and pulling out her brush. I took off her collar and she relaxed. I held her head up as the rest of her body sank under the brush strokes. She laid down and sighed. I brushed and snuggled her for a long while, but when I stopped, she sprang up- "Cookie?"

"How about a kiss?" I asked her.

She huffed and licked my glasses.

The trainers told me not to make it easy, see. They said she needed to do something impressive to earn her cookie, so I usually hide it or make her do tricks. She knows shake, but she doesn't like her paws touched, so she'll wave her paw in the air in the hopes that it's enough, but if you wait and insist, she'll barely graze your hand with her paw and perhaps leave it there for a second before drawing it back.

"Nice to meet you, Riley," I said. "Shake."

Her paw shot out and smacked into my palm with steady pressure as intense as her glare. I laughed and laughed while she ate her cookie.

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Mmmmm

I'm not normally one to post my dinner, but it looked so good I couldn't help it. I did the Mediterranean version, which is the mini meatloaf base with oregano, roasted bell peppers, and feta cheese, served with Brussels sprouts and beer. This would be a shot free dinner, but for dessert, I'm having a few frozen banana slices dipped in dark chocolate. Mmm-hmmm.

P.S. tonight I learned that it's Brussels sprouts, not Brussel, and that feta cheese doesn't actually melt.

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Sleepy Jenny

It's 7:00 and I'm already in my pajamas.  That feels pretty nice.  I'm over here telling myself that I was plenty productive today but that weekends are supposed to be relaxing anyway.  Yesterday was a VERY busy day and I had a lot of fun, so I thought today would be this super-productive, do-nothing-but-chores day.  Those are occasionally necessary, but why do I feel the need to be productive all the time?

Today I did three loads of laundry, walked Riley, went to the grocery store, and am actually going to make dinner.  I'm going to make the Mediterranean version of those mini meatloaves so I can freeze a bunch.  I think there may be a baked potato in my dinner future this week, and I bought a box of as-healthy-as-it's-gonna-get mac and cheese.  It's organic... or something.  Cheese and crackers are no longer cutting it for dinner, I crave hot food- especially since leaves are falling.

So I have a rule tonight: going to make dinner and curl up in front of a movie by 8.  I have Mud, Invictus, and Chariots of Fire to choose from.  I may even crochet.  This week will be busy, but hopefully fun, and I have a writing assignment to work on.  :D