Blissful ignorance at an end.
339 = the number of e-mails awaiting me when I logged in for work this morning. I guess when you divide that number by the number of days it's been since I've been at work (16), that's only 21 messages per day. I'll be gosh-darned if I'm going to log in on my vacation just to maintain my e-mails, though. Sixteen days of blissful ignorance is worth the three or four hours it's going to take me to plow through these and weed out the urgent ones.
I spent two hours yesterday picking up land mines in the back yard (I swear I'm going to stop feeding those dogs), then scrubbing out, rinsing, and re-filling the hot tub (it's been empty since shortly after Thanksgiving). Now I need the hot tub to relax the muscles in my back that are screaming because of yesterday's activities.
It's been raining off and on since last night, and the northern elevations are getting snow like gangbusters. We will probably do some in-state skiing in the coming weekends. And then need the hot tub again. Because we are old and out of shape and skiing is a young, shapely person's sport. Yet, we are game. And perhaps foolish.
Today's Manic Monday activities include: work (natch), laundry, grocery shopping at two different stores, picking up critters for the critters, picking up prescriptions, cleaning the kitchen, cleaning the cat closet, taking back the rental movies, and working out. Aaaaand soaking in the hot tub.
Calvin and I went to see the new National Treasure movie. It was fun, historically inaccurate, and highly improbable. We did not go to see a history lesson, however, and so we enjoyed.
My husband and I now know what we want to be when we grow up. Bartenders. We shall sell and get out of Arizona, buy a condo or loft in the Old Port in Portland, Maine, and get jobs within walking distance as bartenders. You'd all be shocked at how completely serious we are about this. We even have a bartendress friend at our oft-visited local that is willing to teach us the ropes. At the end of this year, or the beginning of next, we shall begin to make plans in earnest. We're just waiting for the housing market to turn back around so we can get enough equity out of our property.
Finally, I am determined to lose thirty pounds. My plan is to eat 1000 calories Monday through Friday (easing up but not going overboard on the weekends), work out six days a week, and finally do something about this nonsense. I'm serious this time. No, really. I'll stand on the scale in front of Calvin if I have to in order to kick myself in my own ass and get some motivation.
For crying out loud.
I spent two hours yesterday picking up land mines in the back yard (I swear I'm going to stop feeding those dogs), then scrubbing out, rinsing, and re-filling the hot tub (it's been empty since shortly after Thanksgiving). Now I need the hot tub to relax the muscles in my back that are screaming because of yesterday's activities.
It's been raining off and on since last night, and the northern elevations are getting snow like gangbusters. We will probably do some in-state skiing in the coming weekends. And then need the hot tub again. Because we are old and out of shape and skiing is a young, shapely person's sport. Yet, we are game. And perhaps foolish.
Today's Manic Monday activities include: work (natch), laundry, grocery shopping at two different stores, picking up critters for the critters, picking up prescriptions, cleaning the kitchen, cleaning the cat closet, taking back the rental movies, and working out. Aaaaand soaking in the hot tub.
Calvin and I went to see the new National Treasure movie. It was fun, historically inaccurate, and highly improbable. We did not go to see a history lesson, however, and so we enjoyed.
My husband and I now know what we want to be when we grow up. Bartenders. We shall sell and get out of Arizona, buy a condo or loft in the Old Port in Portland, Maine, and get jobs within walking distance as bartenders. You'd all be shocked at how completely serious we are about this. We even have a bartendress friend at our oft-visited local that is willing to teach us the ropes. At the end of this year, or the beginning of next, we shall begin to make plans in earnest. We're just waiting for the housing market to turn back around so we can get enough equity out of our property.
Finally, I am determined to lose thirty pounds. My plan is to eat 1000 calories Monday through Friday (easing up but not going overboard on the weekends), work out six days a week, and finally do something about this nonsense. I'm serious this time. No, really. I'll stand on the scale in front of Calvin if I have to in order to kick myself in my own ass and get some motivation.
For crying out loud.
Labels: goals, journal, movies, Op:Goddess, work
