The new taco bell opens today just down the street from work, and we all decided to celebrate by seeing how many tacos we can eat, and I said "It'll be just like a big mexican sietsa". But what I really meant was "fiesta", but I'd rather have a siesta.

I should have stayed home today

Why did I even bother getting out of bed? I've asked myself that question countless times today, as I am suffering from a major case of the grumps. Crabby with a capital BITCH. One of those days when you wake up with a headache, if you can really call it waking up, since you didn't sleep at all, and everyone and every stinking thing just rubs you the wrong way. If I could spit venom from my eyes, there would be a few less people around here today. And then, AND THEN, some crazy lady walks in from the street and starts begging us here at work for 60 dollars, which, apparantly she has been doing all up and down the industrial park, because soon after she showed up, so did the cops, who kindly escorted her crazy ass off our property. But here's the thing...they let her use my bathroom before she left. MY BATHROOM. I call it mine, because when you're the only woman working in a store that is only frequented by men (okay, there's that one woman, but I'm pretty sure she used to be, or maybe still is, technically a man, cuz her hands are the size of basketballs, and plus she has an adams apple), you can have the woman's bathroom "just so". MY bathroom is the only "public" bathroom that has ever touched my hiney, because my mother successfully drilled in me a irrational fear of THE DISEASE you catch when your butt touches the toilet seat, and although I believe nothing of what my mother has ever told me, I cannot seem to shake the fear of the grotesque butt disease, or what ever it was that I was destined to catch, and thus have practiced the "hover" ever since I can remember. Okay, I may have sat on the seat in the hospital, but come on, it's a hospital! If they're not clean, nothing is, and besides, I had just had a baby, and was just too damn tired to hover. So now, MY BATHROOM, has been defiled. I'm not being mean...It's not because she was crazy...I know you can't catch crazy, or I'd have caught it long before now, but I just walked in there and it SMELLS. Like a combination of dirty feet and poop and something else I can't place but makes me want to hurl. And the cleaning crew was just here last night, so now if I want to resume my hover-less peeing I'm going to have to go clean it myself, and that just sucks. I do enough cleaning at home, dammit.

Much better on my meals today, mostly because the birthday cake was all gone. Still drank about 14 diet cokes, but hey, it keeps my toes a-tappin'.

On another note, I think I may have found my new house-mate...

I think I shall go meet her in person tomorrow...

I thought I'd try to make today the first day back in terms of my new life as a nutritionally intelligent human being. Let's review, shall we???

7:30 am...Must have caffeine....diet coke on the way to work

8:00 am...picked off a piece of the chicken I brought for my meals today, and had another diet coke

10:30 am...piece of yellow cake w/chocolate frosting from co-worker's b-day yesterday, and a diet coke

12:30 pm...remembered my new "clean eating" resolution and had a portion of chicken breast and a portion of green beans, with a diet coke

3:00 pm...repeat of above

5:30 pm...starving. no, really. the only thing that can save me now is 11 E.L. Fudge cookies, and a diet coke.

7:30 pm...portion of egg noodles, with a portion of shredded chicken a la mexican. Ran out of diet coke, so I had 1 1/2 glasses of wine instead.

Oy Vay.

Hmmm...a little over a month since my last post...gee I'm good at this.


So, you ask, what have I been doing for the last four weeks? Well, I'd tell you, but frankly it's all been a sleep deprived blur. The only things I know for sure are: #1 My maternity leave is over and I'm back at work full time...bleck. #2 I had to have my boxer put to sleep...double bleck. #3 The other dog is driving me CRAZY with all the soulful howling and frantic searching of the house for the boxer, and the hiding in the cage and refusing to come out. #4 My baby makes me happy. #5 My stomach, and it's refusal to shrink back to pre-baby proportions, does not. #6 My 2 year old fell off the TOP of the bleachers and, due to the mommy-inherited trait of being completely without grace or coordination, neglected to put his hands down and landed directly on his head, scraping the entire surface of his face completely off in the process.

Yep, that about sums it up.