purplemartini

Stolen from http://www.woot.com/

Here's the description for a Roomba530 vaccum:


MEET THE FLOORMASTERS

Hey, that’s show business

Gian Goulashi (radio host and runner-up, All-Canada Jimmy Fallon Lookalike Search, 2006): “A Whole New Me” is the name of the first album by the Floormasters, who join us in the studio today. If the name Floormasters sounds vaguely familiar, it might be because their principal songwriter, singer and lead triangle player is the iRobot Roomba 530 Robotic Vacuum, known to many as the most efficient robot vacuum on the market, able to sweep dirt, debris, pet hair, dust and allergens from carpets and hard floors alike.

And while you might be more accustomed to seeing the Roomba 530 as the deal of the day on Woot, this music project is anything but a sideline. The Roomba 530 has always intended to be a big-time, self-important rock diva; it just got distracted by a hugely successful career in the housekeeping industry.

These days, the Roomba 530 is all about the rock, as you can tell by this new record, which must be really good, since it—and not the Roomba’s high profile—is the whole reason we have these Floormasters on our show, instead of some other band that’s been around longer, and whose music might be better, but which features no members who have schtupped Angelin- oh, wait, I’m not supposed to mention that. Anyway, the Floormasters. Welcome.

Floormasters who are not the Roomba 530: Hi.

GG: So, you guys are, like, a band, I guess.

Francis Fendlesworth (bass player and founder of Francis Fendlesworth’s Rock & Roll Fantasy Camp for Movie Stars): Yes. A legitimate band that everyone is very interested in on the sole basis of our music, and not for any other reason.

GG: And—Roomba 530, what originally drew you to… country music, or rock music, or zydeco music, or whatever kind of music is on this record, anyway?

iRobot Roomba 530: I don’t know what you’re talking about.

GG: Well, I’m asking you about this record, which I haven’t listened to, but I understand it has… what, some songs on it, right? I’d rather ask you your high score on TOMB RAIDER, if you know what I mean, but I’m trying to maintain the premise that you’re here to talk music.

R530: I don’t know what you’re taking about.

GG: ...Ooookay. Let’s try something else, then. What was it like working with those lovable kids in the Bad News Bears remake?

R530: Would you ask Tom Petty that?

GG: Uh, probably not, since I don’t think he was in that movie.

R530: And would you treat Tom Petty like he was some music-biz dilettante?

GG: Of course not. He’s, like, a legend. You know, “Damn the Torpedoes.” He’s a multi-Grammy winner. He’s in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. He played with Orbison and Harrison in that Wilburys thing.

R530: EXACTLY. And that’s why I demand to be treated with the SAME DEFERENCE.

GG: ...Uh… you… Wait, what?

R530: THE SAME. AS IF I, TOO, HAD BEEN A PROMINENT MUSICIAN FOR DECADES BEFORE NOW.

GG: I’m sorry, are you reacting to… because I mentioned that you’re a well-known cleaning appliance?

R530: OK, first of all, you were instructed not to talk about any of that.

GG: But… you are a well-known cleaning appliance. The audience knows you for your outstanding counter-rotating bristle brush and beater brush, which work together like a dustpan and broom, digging deep into carpet fibers to grab dirt. And for your fine filter, which traps dust and pollen and stuff.

Anyway, if I didn’t mention your floor-sweeping career, I mean, don’t you think those Woot customers would find it odd if I just pretended…

R530: YOU WERE INSTRUCTED.

GG: Look, I’m not trying to provoke you, I just thought… Well, let’s abandon this charade. You guys were going to perform a song or something?

R530: Not me. I refuse. I’m not performing under these conditions. These guys I hired to be my pretend band, they can play. I’ll be pouting in my trailer.

GG: In your—dude, there’s no trailer. This isn’t a movie set.

R530: I AM TOM PETTY.

GG: Well, I’d agree with three of those words, anyway. Ladies and gentlemen, the Floormasters, without the iRobot Roomba 530, performing a vocal-less, triangle-less version of whatever this song is.

FF: We’ll do “Real Rock Star.” That one doesn’t have any triangle in it, anyway.

R530: THERE GOES YOUR BIT PART IN MR. WOODCOCK 2, FENDLESWORTH.

FF: $#!t! That was the whole reason I agreed to play in this phony band!

Warranty: 90 Day iRobot

I went to see Zack and Miri make a porno tonight. What fun! Best Kevin Smith movie ever!  Really funny, so funny I missed some of the jokes because I was laughing.

I've got this really weird dry scratchy spot in my throat. It feels like I've got a popcorn skin stuck in there. So far nothing seems to get rid of it. My co-workersaid her throat felt like that just  before she got knocked on her ass with a horrible virus. Not looking forward to that. However, it sort of makes me wish I could play it up and take a couple of personal days.

I can't wait for the weekend. Ben and I are going to tear out the false ceiling in the kitchen and I'll patch and paint  what's above it. Then I plan to put a second coat of paint on the foyer and maybe even paint the bathroom.  I'm all about home-improvement.

Okay, now...off to bed with me.

Ben and I watched CNN's US election coverage while we played World of warcraft. Yes, you read that right. WE played world of warcraft. More surreally, I played world of warcraft. I think something crazy is happening in the world.

Oh, and do you know what else? CNN now has guests appear live via hologram. Are you thinking what I am thinking? Hologram? Seriously? I mean, No way, not like an actual hologram. What is this CNN star trek? I guess I do find it sort of humorous the thought of Anderson cooper in the studio having a conversation with an empty space. Meanwhile, the technical crew is scambling to add Will.i.am digitally in post production but they have to make it look like it's live.  If people can be interviewed via hologram well...how much longer before we have flying robot cars, robot maids and smell-o-vision?

I'm not even going to comment on the election because in this house we don't count chickens before they hatch, but I can't stop the sensation that I'm watching history unfold and all I can think about is how much I want to go to bed. Years from now, if someone asks "where were you when the 2008 election results came in?" I can say "I slept through it."

In fact, I wouldn't be at all surprised if I woke up tomorrow morning and discovered that this entire evening was just a clever plot twist dreamed of by Pam Ewing.

So yeah, I don't know where my brain was.

See? I think this is one of the many reasons I haven't been writing all these months. I don't even know what friggen' day it is most days. This whole daylight savings time thing is not helping. It's dark when I wake up and dark when I leave work in the afternoon. Do you know how depressing that is? Super mega depressing. So depressing it's causing me to have nightmares that I'm being put to death by lethal injection. I mean how's that for how I feel about November?

So in some sort of effort to claw my way out of the maudlin that is November, I made a decision.

I've decided it’s time to stop procrastinating and time to start thinking about my
application for grad school. Oh I know, I’ve talked about this program and that program
and even very briefly (albeit passionately) courted the idea of going to medical school.
But this is it, no more waffling and trying to decide. It’s time to make a decision and
just go for it!

So, I’ve decided on a program. M.Ed.. Of course, that leads to whole other kettle of
fish. There’s several specializations within the M.Ed program. The program that I
really want is the counseling option but I think it might be beyond my reach and also
not related to my current career. But it could be a stepping stone to a Phd in
Psychology, if I decided to go that route eventually. The adult Ed option most closely
matches my current career but I’m not entirely sure that I want to stay in Adult Ed
long term. The Curriculum option has some appeal but I don’t really know enough about
it to make a firm decision on that one either.

The other thing is that I am required to have 3 letters of reference and you know, I
rock, so I don’t have a problem getting people to extol my virtues However, one of the
required references is an education reference. I haven’t been in school since 2004 and
even then all I did were electives and I didn’t really make an impression on any of my
profs, at least not well enough to ask for an academic reference. There is a prof from whom I could ask for an academic reference. In fact, she's the only prof who ever insisted that I consider graduate school, but the last time I took a class from her was 1999.

So tonight I brought all the stuff home to review for my application and I didn't even look at it. Let's face it, life is busy. I had groceries to buy and unload and put away. Then I needed to use limescale remover on the bathroom shower head and desquick the kitchen sink. I should be sorting the remainder of the clean laundry right now but I just don't have the ambition.

Frig if I can't even organize myself to get my application together, how am I gonna handle actually being in school again?

Do you know what would make life easier? a job where I got paid the same amount but worked half as many hours? or just someway to keep my full-time income but not have to work at all and pay for school-full-time. Oh the things I could accomplish if I had that. And I'm not just talking about my education...

Nablo what? Yeah...

So I am still nursing just a wee tiny bit of a hangover. Which is why this entry is going to seem totally random and possibly incoherent. Not a tremendous hangover, just enough of one that I had heartburn and wanted to eat grease. I managed to stay away from grease for the most. However, I did consume a large amount of sandwiches. I guess cause they are easy and easy is what I was all about today.

I really feel like a two day weekend is just not enough time to get everything done that needs doing. Throw in a party on Saturday night and there's even less time to get things done. Not that I'm complaining about the party. I am so not complaining about the party. I needed the party and, I even consumed alcohol! It was a momentous occasion indeed.

I took Zach trick or treating the other night. He was hilarious. He'd ring the doorbell and then go right to opening the person's screen door (cause that's what we do at the babysitter's) I had to tall him several times to let people open the door for him. He dressed up as a Monkey and very few people actually got that he was a monkey, most thought he was a bear. Katie dressed up as tinkerbell, but she stayed home with Ben while Zach and I did the little bit of trick or treating. Zach bugged and bugged me to go over to Stacey and Andre's house. When we got there he promptly removed his costume and shoes and ran down to the man cave and proceeded to empty the toy box and whine occasionally about wanting to watch "bob the builder" on demand. I think the whole thing was just a plot on his part to watch "bob the builder".

Otherwise, not a terrible weekend. Daylight savings time is f&*%ing with me as usual. I didn't get my groceries done today because I was too busy napping and sorting Katie's clothes. My god that child has a lot of clothes! The meal planning didn't get done either. Luckily, I plan to either do meal planning or groceries on my lunch break tomorrow. Seriously though, I am completely over due for a long weekend (don't remind me that I just had one when I went to Boston) I want to finish painting the foyer and work on painting the bathroom, and rip out the ceiling in the kitchen, take the kids swimming, sew a whole whack of pyjamas for the kids, etc. etc. etc.

It's times like these that this full-time job is really putting a crimp in my everything else life. Ain't that always the way.

So, I just received an email reminding me that I am a participant in NABLOPOMO. I guess it's about time I came back to this blog. I can't even really explain why I haven't written since May.

Dieter's Death was hard. He was sedated before hand and very disoriented. He hissed and snarled at me. That's when I broke down. I tried to hold him but he wouldn't let me, and when he would he was too limp to hold. Just like water running through my fingers and he was gone.

I haven't lost anymore weight but I also haven't gained any...so YAY me.

Folks were here in August, I survived without having a nervous breakdown. They actually spent more than 1 day in Fredericton. My sister's wedding had some moments that will go down in infamy. Not the least of which was the sparkle in my Dad's eye when he said "You know I love you the most of all my kids, right?" It was followed a close second by the Karaoke rendition of "family tradition" that my Sister, Father and I sang. "If I get drunk and sing all night long, I'm just carrying on, an old family tradition."

I've been working like a dog. Still like the job, actually don't detest the extra hours, although it's a burden on Ben as he puts the kids to bed solo at least one night a week. I went to Boston a few weeks ago as a "things are kind of winding down" vacation of sorts. I promised Ben that when I got back I'd put in less hours at the office. Then I promptly went and got myself 2 invigilating gigs in one week.

The quote in the subject is from my Son, He was brushing his sister's hair. Between that, and his constant use of "actually" and "concentrating" he cracks me up, and Kate....Well She's nearly got enough hair for Pig tails, and it is so friggen' cute, it would nearly bring tears to your eyes.

Okay, so, I'm gearing up. Getting ready for this Nablopomo. There's no time like November, right?

I've been away a while. 11 weeks actually. It's not that I haven't had anything to say I've just hardly had time to say it. I've been living in this world where there just aren't enough hours in the day and somethings just don't get done. Blogging is one of those things.

With the long weekend and all I've got some time to sit down and spout a bit.

So what's new?

Hmmm, well I weigh 20lbs less than I did 11 weeks ago. That's a major accomplishment. Especially since much of the last 11weeks I have felt like a failure for not living up to my own lofty expectations. I've really struggled and I have persevered sometimes, other times, like tonights sweet an sour pork incident I just try to over look and get back on the horse ready to fight another day.

And it's been a fight, a constant fight. I work in a conference centre, it's full of catered food. Do you know what catered food is? It's all the stuff you would never make for yourself and most of it is really effin good. So I face that daily plus the fact that work has been so busy I can barely keep up and then there's the extra hours supervising exams and what not. I don't think I've sat down on a lunch break in over a month, I always have errands to run at lucnh hour.

Plus I've been sick off and on for a month and Dieter's day of reckoning is finally upon us.

I had been wondering if I would know when was the right time and I'd thought about it so much that I've gotten to the point that I can't decide if I would even know, but I guess I started to feel it last week and I made at tentative appt. with the reasoning that if the feeling went away I could cancel. This weekend just reaffirmed my feelings. The old man is struggling to get up and down the stairs and despite increasing his insulin his urine output has increased. He's also developed a new tumor and just today he bit Zach with only mild provocation. We managed to keep him from urinating in Zach's bed again but only because we kept Zach's door shut all weekend. I alternate between looking at him and thinking he's fine to thinking I see a sadness in his eyes and I can tell he is tired. But I guess what it really comes down to is that it is important to me that he not suffer in anyway. It kills me to think that he could already be suffering and just hiding it (as cats do) and without opening him up we will never know. I guess the thing is that he's not his same old self and it wouldn't be fair of us to resent him for something that he can't control or that we prolonged out of our own selfishness.

So here's where I talk all weird: I have a feeling about most things that haven't happened (I think I've mentioned it before) This event is something about which I have no preconceived notions. I don't have anything guiding me. I don't know exactly what it will be like, and I've been trying to imagine (to prepare myself) but it's just not there. I don't know if I will cry or if I will hold it together until I get home or if I will hold him until the end or what I will do. All, I know is that tomorrow is going to come no matter what I do and I can't prolong the inevitable. I am going to have to say goodbye to the best cat I have ever had. I can only hope he'll be thinking just as fondly of me.

We had a really really nice weekend around the homestead. The kids were both pretty good and even though we didn't get much accomplished it was relaxing and just what I needed after my week from hell.

Dieter and I spent some very special snuggle time together over the weekend and I've been watching him very closely for any signs that he might be uncomfortable. So far he's carrying on as status quo. However, I did discover that he is missing 2 teeth. One of them is a fresh loss, the gum is still red and pitted where the tooth used to be. The other one, well, I can hardly tell that it was ever there. It would be one thing if it was one of his tartar covered teeth but these teeth were incisors. One of the larger incisors on the top and one of the smaller ones from the bottom. Both were clean and free of plaque and gums were healthy in that area and what an area to lose a tooth from. It's not like he even uses those teeth for much of anything. Right now he's laying on the back of the sofa pawing my shoulder and purring contentedly. It makes me so sad to think that some day, and likely very soon, he won't be there doing that ever again.

I sort of had the hope in my head that maybe he'd beat the odds and just keep on keeping on for a good long time, but now that he's lost some teeth well..that's terribly ominous n'est pas? Just when I put it to the back of my mind and continue on like nothing is wrong something brings it back into focus. I wish I could be blissfully ignorant,but on the upside, I memorise every moment and try to ensure it stays locked into my memory so that He'll always be with me even when he's no longer on the back of the sofa pawing my shoulder.

I was having a pretty bad week as it was. Yahoos were coming out of the woodwork and ¾’s of them seemed to be calling my office. Dealing with yahoo’s is sometimes part of my job description but not nearly to the extent that has occurred so far this week. I have a fairly low tolerance level for stupid people at the best of times and coupled with that is the fact that I am severely pre-menstrual and could cry for no reason what so ever at the drop of a hat. Then we get more snow and they don’t even bother to close the office and give me a days respite from the yahoos and the opportunity to help Ben get the driveway cleaned up half decent. So yeah overall I wasn’t a very happy camper.

Then I called the vet to find out Dieter’s histopathology report.

He’s got Fibrosarcoma. You can probably tell from that word that it is not good. The tumors that were removed were adhered to his sternum and several ribs and while the vet offered to do another surgery to try and get rid of all of the cancer Dieter would end up losing his sternum and several ribs…minimum. She estimated that if we let him pass away on his own he could live for 4 to 6 months more at the most.

So yeah…it’s been a bad week.

In talking with the vet I decided that I would euthanize Dieter as soon as I think he’s experiencing any pain or his quality of life is beginning to suffer. I'm not sure when that point will be exactly, as his eyes have seemed sad for a while now and he's stopped whining about food so much. I guess I will just KNOW.

So in the meantime I feel like upping his insulin and loading him up on all his favorite treats and demanding that he snuggle and cuddle me every moment I am at home. I’d like to have a photo done of us together, the way that he always tucks his head under my chin and molests me.

For the last 9 years Dieter has been a wonderful cat companion. Short of the plastic bag obsession, the prolific urination and the bouts of whining he’s be pretty much the best cat I’ve ever had.He was never one to get on the counters or chew socks or escape from the house, or make mischief. I can still remember the day he was delivered to our house, snuggled in that girl’s coat. She told us that he was the best of the litter, and he truly was.

This morning, before I go to work, I am dropping Dieter off at the Vet. This time it's not for diabetes related stuff, No, this morning the old man is going to have several fast growing masses removed from his chest. I discovered them on Sunday and my first reaction was "great, we just spent a whole whack of money on this cat and he's gonna die on us anyway." So I think I'll go and spend some more money on him while I'm at it.

In typical form, this worry about Dieter has pretty much consumed me. I find myself palapting his abdomen regularly to see if I can find more of these growths and I'm constantly wondering "are they bigger? Are they smaller? is there more of them?"

In the time have been all consumed with worry I've been busy putting things on my agenda to try and distract myself from the worry. Today for example, I managed to schedule an appointment for myself at lunch so I won't be sitting there thinking about Dieter all through my lunch hour. Although, it just occurred to me that I won't be available if they need to get in touch with me during that time. Oh well, I guess nothing could be that urgent that they couldn't wait an hour to hear from me.

I'm not terribly optimistic, although, I wasn't terribly optimistic about the Diabetes and it's actually beeing going rather well. I guess maybe I'm going to hope for the best, but I'm quite prepared for the worst. When your vet says that in 12 years of practicing animal medicine she's never felt anything quite like these growths you have to prepare yourself for the worst.

  

Sometime recently, I am not exactly sure when, I decided that I need to learn how to make bread. Well, I mean I know how to make bread, I've just never been any good at it. I either lack the patience or experience or finesse or what ever it is that makes good bread good. What ever it is...I don't have it but I'm hoping that it's learnable.

When I was younger my Nanny Woof (yes that's actually her real last name) made bread. She's now in her late 80's and has Alzheimer's and lives in a home so she doesn't make bread any more. She made the best bread. She would take off her Jewelry (which was more than a dozen rings with assorted precious stones and gold bracelets and bangles) and get her knobby fingers right into the dough and mix everything up. She never used a recipe and knew from just her senses if the bread was just right. I would watch in amazement and sometimes even help out a bit but I never studied what she did and I never asked enough questions. I just watched and I didn't learn much.

Now, when it comes to me making bread on my own, I'm left to what I have read in books and what I can find on teh intarweb. That's not even remotely a substitute for a Loving Granny's experience. So here I am flying blind.

I started with pizza dough, seemed simple enough and I prefer to eat whole wheat. Well, it was a colossal failure. Turns out, our whole wheat flour had gone rancid. It was awful, the pizza tasted like glue. And the toppings were such a sublime combination of deliciousness (roasted red pepper, chicken, pesto, artichoke hearts) I was kicking myself. At least it could be saved by picking the toppings off, they tasted fine so long as you couldn't smell the crust. It never even occurred to me that the flour might be bad.

Then last weekend I decided to try artisan bread. I figured it's pretty free form it will hide a myriad of sins. Hmmm, not so. Despite making sure all the ingredients were perfect and even leaving the dough to proof over night i ended up with something that looked like a banana bread. What a disappointment.

I keep thinking that patience is my issue. So I thought I'd try an exercise in self-control and try making sour dough starter. The first few days it went really well then I got cocky. Again, my lack of patience defeated me. I decided to try to make a sponge. One of the websites I read said that it was a good idea to proof your sponge in a gently heated oven with the heat off. Ben helpfully suggested that adding a tray of hot water would also keep the oven warm. Well, perhaps too warm as my sponge did nothing. In fact I'm pretty sure I killed it.

So this weekend I have started a new sourdough starter that I don't plan to even contemplate using until next weekend at the earliest and I decided to try making bread from a mix. I figure if I can't make bread from mix that has everything included and precisely measure well...I'll just have to give up bread making all together. However, if I do a decent job with the mix, I'll have the confidence, and hopefully the patience to try the sourdough thing. Or maybe just some plain old yeast bread. Just like my Nanny used to make.

Several times recently I have forgotten to take my medication. I switched to taking it at night because it was bothering my stomach again, and not in that cool I don't want to eat way.

I don't know if it's the lack of regular meds or the weather or the news that's getting me down but down I am.

I can't stop thinking about the two girls who froze to death out west. Two babies, around the same age as my own babies and the thoughts are haunting me. I don't care how drunk their father was, I don't care what sort of issues he had with their mother. I don't want to hear anyone try to make excuses for that man. It was -40! Even pissed to the gills there has to exsist the most basic of common sense that you don't take your kids out just in diapers and t-shirts! It chews me up inside to think of the last moments of those girls' lives. I can almost hear them crying and it keeps me awake at night.

The glipizide isn't working. He's actually gotten worse instead of better. Tomorrow morning I pick up his insulin. On Saturday I have to do blood sugar curve on him. That means checking his blood sugar with a glucometer for a 12 to 24 hour period. Lovely!

I guess it beats saying goodbye to him forever though eh?

So I'm sitting here waiting for the laundry to finish so that I can put the next load in the dryer and go to bed. I know exciting eh? I flat ironed my hair and played a round of carcassonne against the xbox and watch an episode of Grey's anatomy that made me cry (stupid grey's anatomy, why can't I quit you?). But now I'm just waiting.

You know what I hate about waiting? It gives you too much time to think, time to delve in the deepest depths of your psyche or completely over analyze just about everything. And that's fine some of the time, when you've got stuff you need to work through not when all you thinking about lately is what you are going to do when you have to euthanize your cat.

Dieter, our oldest cat, my cat, has diabetes. In the last 6 months or so he has lost 9 lbs (likely more by now). He's always been a big cat and for most of his life a bit on the tubby side but now he's like anorexic kitty and the dude eats! He eats like he hasn't eaten for days and he gets underfoot and whines whenever you even pass by the cat food cupboard. His hip bones stick out and his coat is not as fluffy as it was, even his face is gaunt. According to the vet he not that bad off just yet. He's on "Cat-kins" the low carb diet for cats and medication to stimulate his pancreas, and it would appear that his kidney's are still working great. Despite all that every time I look at his gaunt face all I can picture is the moment I'll have to make the decision to put him out of his misery, and he's not even in misery yet! I perpetually fret over whether his meds are working (I don't think they are) and will he have to go on insulin, and what if he's got pancreatic cancer? I drive myself crazy worrying about all these things because I worry that I am not going to know when to make the decision to end his life. Now, I know that diabetes is not a death sentence but Dieter is a cat, he can't tell me when he's suffered enough and he also can't tell me that he would like to continue to live despite any suffering he might experience. I'm so terrified I'll choose the wrong time. He was my baby until my babies were born.I don't want to see him hurt at all, but I also don't want to let him go too soon, or keep him too long out of my own selfishness. And I realize I could be weeks, months, even years away from having to make that decision but I can't help but think about it when I look at his dull eyes or see him stumble because his hind legs are weak. Before I knew that he had diabetes I just assumed he was getting old, now it seems much more serious, much more imminent and it seems like he's deteriorating much quicker.

It might just all be in my head but I wish I could stop thinking about it.

So this might be a bit premature but I'd like to say that currently I am really enjoying work. I think that it kind of helps that I have commandeered a desk and computer for myself and everyday I inch closer and closer towards being totally useful. It also helps that work is flat out crazy! I mean the phone rings constantly and there always seems to be a stack of work to be done. I LOVE IT!

I mean, contrast that to my old job where I spent most of my time writing personal email and reading blogs because there was absolutely nothing to do. Currently, I haven't even had time to log into my personal email, let alone read or write any. I feel a teeny bit out to touch with the outside world but that's fine because the day just flies by when I am so busy. I can catch up when I get home.

Tonight will be the real test. I'm working until 5:30 and have to pick the kids up and drop them off at home and manage to get to pilates for 6:15. Now, 45 minutes might seem like a lot of time but I haven't left work on time even once this week. And once I get the kids home I still have to change into my gym clothes and get downtown plus throw something to eat at my face.

SO far I think I am adjusting quite well. Meals have been served later, but the family doesn't seem to mind and about the same level of house stuff is getting done too so my extra organizing has paid off. Let's see how I handle things this weekend when we host Zach's birthday party. All I have really planned is who is attending. I guess everything else will fall in place on Friday or Saturday when I have time to shop for favors and decorations.

So I did finally start back to work this week.I put it off as long as I could with snow days and Dr's appts but then eventually I had to go in.

So far, so good. I don't have my desk yet. My mat leave replacement is still occupying it so I'm just sitting around the office making mental notes and will be doing so until the end of this coming week.

Which brings up the question? "does the next week begin on Sunday or Monday?" I'm a Monday gal. So until tomorrow it's not yet next week.

I can't remember if I filled everyone in on the details of getting my new job.I had to grieve it through the union. At the time my direct boss seemed to be the most opposed to my grievance (at the hearings he did anyway, at one of them I thought I came close to making him cry) so I was anticipating a whole bunch of awkwardness when I started but guess what? He left. He found a new job elsewhere. Could it be that the prospect of facing me every day after I nearly made him cry in a hearing was just too much for him? I somehow doubt it, however, I am relieved to not have to worry about working for a guy who quite obviously did not want to hire me. It's bad enough I have to listen to how much everyone loves the girl who was filling in for my leave, and how much they wish she didn't have to go. I've got some pretty big shoes to fill, I have to make everyone love me more than her, and not resent me for being the reason she had to go. That's a lot of pressure.

The biggest thing weighing on me right now is how I am going to manage getting off work at 5:30. By the time I pick up Ben and the kids and get home it's 6 pm and then prepare and eat supper it's time to get the kids ready for bed. It brings all new meaning to the "power hour" Plus I have to find some time in there to make it to Pilates on Wednesday nights at 6pm. I might have to start back to the gym and do cardio at night a few nights a week after the kids are in bed and balance it out with boot camp on Sat mornings. I really feel like there aren't enough hours in the day and I'm working the early shift right now! What am I going to do when I'm on the late shift?

Dear Nature,

Please stop it with the snow. Please, Pretty please with a cherry on top. I know, I know, You are smiting us for saying we didn't need a snowblower. However, we do HAVE the point so please lay the f*&^ off.

Thanks in Advance


Dear Mofos at the weather network,

I am sending you a tape measure in the mail. Last time I checked 30cms was about the length of a piece of looseleaf (or are you of the foolscap club?) not the length of my leg from heel to knee.

Please be more accurate next time.

Sincerely

So I knew there was a snowstorm coming and I thought there might be a possibility that work would be closed this morning but I didn't think it would actually happen. But yes. Work is closed this morning and we got one mother of a snowfall over night. In fact, it's still continuing and if you believe those lying bastards at the weather network, it will continue until 7 pm tonight.

C'mon, I know this is fate laughing in our faces for saying "no, no, we don't need a snowblower!" Of course, you watch, we go out and buy a snowblower all of a sudden no more snow.

So tomorrow I go back to work. Of course, like most things in my life it is doubtful that this return to work will go off without a hitch. For starters, We are supposed to get between 15 and 30 cm's of snow over night and part of tomorrow. Hmmm, am I still expected to show up if it's a snow day? It's my first day at my new job. I am a very relieved that I didn't put Zach in daycare. It would be just another thing to worry about.

Time will tell how well I cope with balancing home and work. Oddly enough, I don't feel all that much trepidation about that. I guess I've sort of resigned myself to the fact that I'm either going to manage, or I'm going to fail miserably and there's not much I can do about that except figure it out when I get there. The house is not yet restored from the chaos of Christmas...but it's getting there. If I have a chance to catch my breath in the next week or so we should get it restored, or back to normal (which is pretty much how it is now) I never seem to be able to keep all the balls in the air at once, ya know?

I spent a couple hundred bucks and bought myself a new wardrobe to wear back to work. I really needed new clothes. You wouldn't know it by looking at our bedroom. It looked like the closet threw up. I've been working on getting rid of all my old unwearable stuff for quite some time but I never seem to find the time to finish the job so there it sits in bags and piles and it seems as though I add to it everyday. I constantly feel like I have nothing to wear, and yet I have clothes up to my knees in front of the closet. I need to put my ass in gear and haul those bags off to the Sally Ann. I should send myself a Sandy reminder.

I can't help but think I'd have more time to devote to these nobler pursuits if I wasn't so engrossed by settlers of Catan. I found a place to play online and I must have played 4 or 5 games today alone and now that we've figured out what is wrong with the laptop (plug it in when it's empty, unplug it when it's full) it's alot less frustrating. Nothing so annoying as having your computer turn itself off when you are about to claim victory.