Yesterday I discovered there are seven weeks until December 1. SEVEN. Which means 9-ish weeks until Christmas. To distract myself from that horrifying but exciting thought (recall, I’m a Christmas Crazy), I offer you a few, okay Thursday 13, confessions…
|Perhaps the coolest graphic ever.
1. I tire of lettuce. Truly. I eat salad, but I don’t like it. I prefer to use lettuce as a platform for the yummier more interesting veggies.
2. I’ve had too many “freedom frisks” to count. I’ve just lost track of how many full-body airport security pat-downs I’ve received. More than six, less than 10 I think. Today I asked the woman who rubbed me down how her day was going. She guffawed a loud “Hah!” and I should have realized that asking a woman how her day is going when she’s cupping the buttocks of another woman is probably a loaded question.
3. Southwest Flight 812 weighs on my mind. I think about it every time I fly, which is just about twice a week. I stare at the ceiling panels… assess weird noises… avoid row 13… pay extra special attention to safety briefings. The memories live with me as much as I try to ignore them.
4. Public apple eating should be outlawed. My sister can attest that I’ve bitched about this for years. Public apple eating creeps me out. The sound. The voracious attacking of the fruit by wide open chompers. Maybe it’s my people-noise sensitivity. Maybe it was my European grandmother who sliced all whole fruit. I don’t know. All I do know is that I was in a conference last week where crunchy peaches were served for a snack and I thought I was going to LOSE MY MIND.
|Yuck, yuck, yuck. Photo found here.|
5. I want to strangle people who pop their gum. I’m sure gum poppers are nice people, maybe, but sometimes I have to physically restrain myself from plugging my ears. Today, at 5:45 a.m. and stuck next to a vigorous popper while boarding my plane, I couldn’t stop myself from cringing.
6. I hate being told what to do. Yeah, the older I get, the more I realize how much I dislike being beholden to others in the work realm. I’d prefer to be boss-less, or at least be the boss, or at least have control over what I have to do, when. Know what I mean?
7. I’ve eaten at least 10 cold s’mores in the last four weeks. Such a marvelous quick snack–Graham crackers, marshmallow cream and 10 chocolate chips. Divine. On a red letter day, I add toasted almonds.
8. I’ve been to the gym four times in the last three months. Given my number seven confession, should I be shocked that my pants don’t fit? Of course, the last time I tried the gym, I got my gas tank drilled. Can I pretend that I’m gun shy and not just lazy?
9. I hate milk. Hate the smell. Hate the texture. Hate, hate, hate. But I love milk products e.g. ice cream, yogurt, cheese. Don’t ask me how that works.
|Yeah, that’s a giant hotdog. Located in Port Townsend,
Washington. Awesome photoshop by Courtney R.!
10. I don’t know if I work as hard as people think I do. Don’t get me wrong, I work a lot, but I don’t know if other people’s impressions match up with my reality. I haven’t decided how I feel about that one way or the other. (Although I do think it works the other way, too. Sometimes I’m working my ass off and I get treated like I sit at home eating bon bons all day. Ah, the perils of telecommuting.)
11. I don’t feel like working hard lately. What I mean by this is, lately I’ve been daydreaming about an easier gig. Something 9 to 5ish where I can go home at the end of the day and not think about work. But then I think about what that would actually mean, and then I remember number six, and then I burst in fits of laughter, and then I snap out of it. I’m just tired I think.
12. I love hotdogs. Truly. The ones from Costco are the best… with mustard and sweet relish!
13. My friend and I plan to lose 10 pounds each by December 1. The other day we outlined a health and wellness manifesto with food and fitness goals, and all sorts of fun stuff (clearly no hot dogs or s’mores for me!). Probably the best part? The accountability bit. We’ve planned twice-a-week e-check-ins and weekly meetings galore. I shall keep you posted on progress.
Well, enough randomness for one night. Any confessions you care to share?