Well, they just are.
Actually, I’ve been semi-active on Twitter of late. Yes, I caved, and as expected, my blogging took a total jump off the cliff. Of course, because of major time constraints, it was in actually in mid-leap when I caved, which of course was a big reason I caved. I mean, I had to still be able to say SOMETHING somewhere, right? Umm, right?
Anyway, a part of the major time constraints: I’ve managed another promotion at work; I told a friend the other day, and she pointed out that I’ve kinda been flying my way up the ladder in this job. I hadn’t really thought about it, honestly; I guess it just feels like natural next steps to me, and I’m certainly always on the lookout for the next new bigger, better challenge so it didn’t really seem like THAT big of a deal to me (though this one does have a cool title with it, oooooh, ahhhhh). Of course, now that she’s pointed it out and I’ve realized that, okay, yeah, it’s kind of a big deal – or at least appears that way to everyone but me – I’m minorly freaked out about it if I stop and give it any thought. So, ya know, I’m trying not to do that! I guess I just enjoy my job. There are days I rant and rave and scream and twitch and spasm and bite people’s heads off (and a big I’m Sorry to my husband there because he’s usually the one dealing with it), but still, I like my job. Never imagined I’d say that. Now if only it would pay enough that I wouldn’t have to still be doing it when I’m 75.
We’re also back from our trip to TB’s folks’ for Thanksgiving. Let me just say it to get it out of the way: I LOVE MY BED.
Now I have to get ready for my next trip, which is less than a week from now. During this trip, I will not be able to lounge around in my usual comfortable slacker clothes and will have to be, ya know, presentable and even semi-professional-looking at various points. This means I will spend a lot of the next few days trying on clothes and hating my body/self/body/clothes/body. Teh Suck. And another big ol’ preemptive apology to my husband for the estrogen-induced lunacy that I will be suffering during said time. I’m sure it could be worse for him if I was, I don’t know, trying to quit smoking and drinking at the same time, but really, that’s pretty much like trying to delineate between being eviscerated with a spoon or a fork. Have a little sympathy for a brother.