digging in the dirt
Glad to hear reparation of the potholes is underway. Some of the worst ones seem to have been fixed already, only to fall into disrepair immediately.
Have not been sleeping well this week, likely owing to my two-day out-of-town trip next week, my lack of preparation thereof, and the disproportionate number of things here that have to be done before I leave (why do two days out of town require five days' worth of stuff to be done prior? Mathematically, this makes no sense. I can't even write an equation for it... o=out of town; x=here. d=days of work. 2o=5dx? What?)
Ahem. Last night, the boy and I took Dan to dinner at the Cowgirl (it starts at the Cowgirl, it ends at the Cowgirl. Whatever happens at the Cowgirl stays at the Cowgirl). I had been weirdly famished all day, like crazy hungry, the kind of hungry where you eat your little lunch and it makes no dent whatsoever in The Hunger. I cleaned my plate of veggie burger and fries. Devoured. Normally that much food would leave me on the verge of hurling but not this time. Then Dan and I attacked a Mud Pie (hence the insomnia. Hello chocolately goodness). Today I feel back to my "I eat a graham cracker and call it lunch" self. Thank Goodness. I'd never get anything done if I was that hungry every day.
Heard about this yesterday. Had an inkling the dailies would have it today so we didn't pursue it.
Anyway, I must get to work. Actually, I must drink my coffee and then get to work. In brief: bad news. Good news. I actually wrote my high school senior paper on the politicization of marijuana, with particular emphasis on its medicinal purposes. Tied in first place for the senior high school essay prize. I can't remember the other winner's topic, something about a disease, something that sounded a little more impressive when called out during the graduation assembly, versus: "The Politics of Marijuana by Julia Goldberg." Ahem. And, just to be clear: I never returned the library book I used for the essay and, finally, yes, I inhaled.
Have not been sleeping well this week, likely owing to my two-day out-of-town trip next week, my lack of preparation thereof, and the disproportionate number of things here that have to be done before I leave (why do two days out of town require five days' worth of stuff to be done prior? Mathematically, this makes no sense. I can't even write an equation for it... o=out of town; x=here. d=days of work. 2o=5dx? What?)
Ahem. Last night, the boy and I took Dan to dinner at the Cowgirl (it starts at the Cowgirl, it ends at the Cowgirl. Whatever happens at the Cowgirl stays at the Cowgirl). I had been weirdly famished all day, like crazy hungry, the kind of hungry where you eat your little lunch and it makes no dent whatsoever in The Hunger. I cleaned my plate of veggie burger and fries. Devoured. Normally that much food would leave me on the verge of hurling but not this time. Then Dan and I attacked a Mud Pie (hence the insomnia. Hello chocolately goodness). Today I feel back to my "I eat a graham cracker and call it lunch" self. Thank Goodness. I'd never get anything done if I was that hungry every day.
Heard about this yesterday. Had an inkling the dailies would have it today so we didn't pursue it.
Anyway, I must get to work. Actually, I must drink my coffee and then get to work. In brief: bad news. Good news. I actually wrote my high school senior paper on the politicization of marijuana, with particular emphasis on its medicinal purposes. Tied in first place for the senior high school essay prize. I can't remember the other winner's topic, something about a disease, something that sounded a little more impressive when called out during the graduation assembly, versus: "The Politics of Marijuana by Julia Goldberg." Ahem. And, just to be clear: I never returned the library book I used for the essay and, finally, yes, I inhaled.
posted by Julia at 8:14 AM
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