March 8, 2010 by Blondette
In all my laziness, I seem to have given up cooking. This evening I was craving a grilled chicken breast and was hopeful when I saw them at my local Price Chopper. I’ve had delicious grilled breastes from the downtown market and really hoped maybe the same would be true for my northland branch. Nope.
I ate half of it caveman style but alas, it may become a cat treat.
Don’t cry for me though – I ate .6lbs of Asian Slaw (aka cabbage.) Cry for you because whew! cabbage.
Category blah blah | Tags: boring,food,funny | No Comments
February 14, 2010 by Blondette
When I can’t sleep, I compose. Once, I swear I composed an entire symphony in my N1 sleep. It may have been a dream mixing with the classical music station that I was fond of listening to before bed at that time of my life. Regardless, I often compose posts, conversations, and schedules when my brain is supposed to be slowing down for the day. Common problem for the insomnia driven – you are tired, but your brain doesn’t cooperate. About 95% of the time, once I write to you all (in my head) and put all my “to-dos” in order (okay, I usually have to go through it a few times so I remember and just out of pure anxiety), I drift off.
During particularly stressful and busy weeks at work, my dreams mirror my days and are cast with work colleagues, clients, and settings. So, no matter how hard I try, I just don’t quite shut off completely.
Last night, Saturday night, I stopped and reflected on my compositions. You see, most of the time, I don’t carry out three quarters of my “to-dos.” I become so one track focused on work that I do not keep up with anything else. And then I wear myself out thinking about it, feeling guilty about it. Imagine, I thought, if I were to just do one of those things. Imagine if when I came home, I took 15 minutes to do laundry, 5 minutes to clean the litter boxes, 5 minutes to clean the kitchen. Let’s just say half an hour of chores. Well, that’s not too much time to take away from my work and it could quite certainly be about the same amount of time my weary self lies awake composing.
So, that’s what I’m going to work on. I’m going to try and I’m going to see it reduces my stress level.
Category blah blah, Life Lessons | Tags: adult,boring,responsible | 1 Comment
August 11, 2009 by Blondette
In just over a week, my high school graduating class will hold their 10 year reunion. I will not be attending. Interestingly enough, I’ve been friended on Facebook by several former classmates, and really, that’s good enough for me.
I don’t really like the idea of facing the reunion alone. I wasn’t popular. I was smart, quiet, fat, extremely self-conscious, a little crazy, and just didn’t get into all of the typical high school things. Oh, and I was in the band. I was not an extreme loser, but I was definitely a non-entity on the social radar.
Parties? only if they were sleepovers where we talked about boys, watched movies, and ate treats.
Boyfriends? Only in my diary.
The only good thing about this reunion is realizing that 10 years later, I’m not the same person I was back in high school. I have a successful career, loads more social skills, and a much stronger sense of worth.
I will admit to e-stalking the reunion profiles to see who’s married, who has kids, who has a shitty job, who has a better job than me, and just other general “where are they now.” Granted, I’ve gotten some of that info from the phenomenon that is Facebook, but it’s still interesting.
Overall, I think I’m doing alright. After all, I was in a magazine- how many of them can say that?
Category blah blah | Tags: adult,boring,egotastic,improvements,thoughtful,whatwasithinking | 1 Comment
March 4, 2009 by Blondette
I must admit, I like this QuickPress thing (I wonder how long it’s been around?) This blog is sort of bare with this new theme (not a knock on the theme, but I still need to personalize it a bit more.)
Here’s some pictures you might enjoy.
i broke a few mugs
It was festive and pretty.
Category blah blah | Tags: boring,pictures,whatwasithinking | No Comments
