I'm not drawn this way
2004-03-01, 11:55 a.m.

It's a marvelous metabolic mystery. It's mid-life metabolic madness! It's a perimenopausal metabolic meltdown. Mercy me! Mmmmmmm.

In spite of having lost 3 pounds from last Monday, which I really attribute to pooping and peeing, I feel even more enormous than I did a week ago. I ate like a ravenous beast all weekend, and even managed to do a double ovulation on Sunday.

I don't like these curvy hip fat pads. I don't like the way my underwear cuts into them and makes them hurt. I also don't like the fat overhanging my bra, or the indent that my pants button makes on my belly.

You all can just roll your eyes til they fall out of your head. I don't care that I "only" weigh 115 this morning. That's too much for me. It's 10 too many lubs.

I'm not dwelling on it, though. I got up at 4:50, got some coffee, went outside to get the paper, and greeted a wonderfully cool clear morning. So in lieu of the living room workout, I opted for a walk/jog. The hivey itching started on my inner thighs, worked its way down to the backs of my knees, then traveled up to my butt, and into my fat handles on my small of my back. Yea verily.

Today is the big CPA showdown in Austin. If this goes the way I think it will, we will reach an impasse, and I will leave Austin with many boxes of documents and shit. I hope that shit doesn't stink too badly. A quick turnaround will send the boxes, documents and shit to the right CPA, and I might be off the anti-anxiety meds someday.

In other news, I'm hungry. I had a mix of half KashiGoKlean and half of the honey puffed stuff, and now my tumbly is all rumbly. It's about time - it's noon. No time for food.

I'll leave here in half an hour, get myself to Austin, have the cpa showdown, drive back to SA, pick up Lil Guy, and get back home to the wilds. Drive much? Why, yes, I think I will.

The good part of that is, we spent the big bucks and had everything on the car repaired. And I KNEW the engine light was a ruse - in order to fix it, they had to reset the computer. So it's obviously programmed to light up, induce panic, and send people in for a $38 computer reset, at which time the $500 check-up tune-up overhaul is mandated.

Oh well, it works, doesn't it?

I think, if all my timing goes according to plan, I will purchase some completely fabulous jeans on my way up north, as well as a right engine mount for DW's car. The repair guy for my car offered to just throw it on there if we got the part. Since I hate the rattliness of his car worse than anything, the burden of purchasing car parts falls to me, the wife.

I wish I were funny and interesting and entertaining and all sharp and witty. I am in real life - I just write boring.