I'm around. Nothing exciting to report. I'd complain but what's the point? Oh hell, it feels better to complain!
I''ve gained a ton of weight lately. I'm out of control. I'm fat! If I'm hungry I eat. A LOT. I don't know why I'm doing this since for a long time now I've been really good with my eating. I HAVE GOT to get back down to a happy size because when a woman does not fit into her clothes she (and no one else) is happy.
My minivan is freaking out. The bloody break isn't talking to the gear shift alerting it that I'm hitting the break and so therefore it should let me take it out of park and into another gear. So I sit there struggling, pushing and re-pushing the stupid break while trying to get into reverse.
At the eye doctors yesterday (which went fine, thanks for asking) I received a call from the school saying Paula was in the office crying and complaining of stomach cramps. I needed to come get her. I was 30 minutes away from her. They said they'd have her lie (or is it lay?) on a cot until I got there. I called Dina who was thankfully at home. She pinched hit for me and picked up Paula. I was at the house waiting. By then Paula was fine but did have a couple #2's (let's not go there). Today she was back in school.
At work we now have to do cash forecasting every week which I HATE. It's stupid. In the Dept I work in cash received is irrelevant to our goal. I've been here 9 years and we've never had to do this until P.M.S (new manager) started on Monday. I'm irritated. Nuff said.
Did I mention I'm fat?
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