So what else is going on besides petty little boy issues? Plenty of other petty little issues.
Presentations: Work has become a series of dog and pony shows lately. After last weeks semi-debacle with the president (he didnt get some of what I was talking about so I had to redo some stuff and put it in more of a structured format), I found out today that the big CEO of our parent corporation is coming to town on Friday and I have to WOW him. Im nervous. This is a presentation that can make or break my career here. Im not kidding. And Im freaking a little. The good thing is, I have dumbed down my work into easy to chew, bite sized pieces because of the feedback I got from the president. And Im actually kind of happy with the results. My counterpart is kind of pissed because she had to follow the format I created, but oh well. It works. And I did it. And Im getting lots of credit for it. So Im crossing fingers, limbs, everything in hopes that CEO gets it and likes it.
Operation Apartment in Order: Oh my gosh, you should see my place! I have turned it inside out and upside down! Yesterday I left work early so that I could have my new daybed delivered. It would have been all fine and good if not for two things: (1) They were three hours late delivering, and (2) they didnt set it up! I was told by the overly zealous salesguy that the $40 delivery fee included set-up. No can do. They dropped the shit off and ran! Didnt even flinch at the batting of my eyelashes. They were obviously trying to get off work and go have dinner. So there I was last night, stuck with a bedroom full of boxes and mattresses. I looked around for help, but of course, no one was there (wheres that cute carpenter when I need him:?). So I dug in. Several hours later (after I assembled the frame backwards and had to redo it, I was the proud assembler of a finished daybed!
But the boxes and plastic are still littered all over my living room. And the rest of my place is a shambles as well. Im still finding feathers from the featherbed explosion. My bathroom is disgusting. I wont even get into the kitchen. There are drapes and pictures to be hung. And I have a new idea for a mirror collage for my bedroom. So, so much to do before I can feel like my place is suitable for a party.
Which brings us to
Operation T-Day: Looks like Im going to have the following crowd for Thanksgiving: Best Bud, her husband, Dr. Prescription (gulp), Mom, Dad, Brother, a few of the new girlfriends, and some people from the apartment building. Honestly, I dont think I want it getting any bigger than that. I already know its going to be a little out of control and my poor folks werent really looking for a party but Ive been easing them into the idea. Im actually getting kind of excited. Best Bud was making flight and hotel reservations today (hope she got them), and I know Dr. Prescription can be cool around my folks (its whats gonna happen when theyre not looking that has me worried). I have to get the apartment in order and then order the food pretty soon. I havent sent out invitations yet. I need to get that done this weekend.
The Weight Loss: Well, Ive lost five pounds so far. And I have to weigh myself again tomorrow. Tomorrow marks four weeks. Its really slow going, but again, better to lose five than gain five, right? People at work are already starting to ask if Im losing weight. I think its more a product of the gossip circle rather than anyone seeing a difference. The only difference I notice is in my boob area. Typical. The place where I least want to lose anything. The good news is, my favorite class at the gym is still going strong! I thought the instructor had left, but it turns out hes still there! Its a full hour of very, very intense aerobics followed by 30 minutes of free weights on Saturday mornings. I have this sick and disgusting crush on the instructor. He does this little thing during the workout where hell move around the class and get right behind you to mimic your moves. When he does it to me, I can feel his body heat just enveloping me. Oh la la. If thats what it takes to keep me going to the gym, then thats what it takes.
Turning Towards my Late Thirties: I turn 36 on Sunday. Holy shit. Theres more I want to say about it, but Im still at work and I need to get outta here quickly, so lets just let this stew simmer for a while, shall we?
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