It’s still the fresh start to the new year and one of my goals was to post more often because my brain needs it’s creative stretch, but here we sit on Sunday night and I’m drained, Reader.
And – get this – I didn’t roll my ass outta bed until 12:30. Yep. That’s right.
And I was in bed by midnight or thereabouts, so really, no excuse, other than Girlie wasn’t knocking all the shit off the nightstand, which is her morning routine that starts with the tv remote hitting the floor, then the cellphone, then the watch, and finally her big finale involves making a move towards the lamp, with her sole intent of getting enough attention that we will haul up and put food in her mousetrap. She wasn’t doing any of that so we just kept sleeping and sleeping and sleeping and sleeping.
So yeah, somewhat drained despite all that sleep.
In a quickie update, I held the course on my lower-carb plan throughout the week, even navigating the minefields of two Italian restaurants. No bread bowls, no pastas – the interesting thing is, I found plenty to eat with a little bit – very little bit – of planning ahead, checking on carb counts before I ate the food and checked later. On Friday I was down 3 lbs, after only starting on Monday, so really not too bad except there’s always a looming weekend. That has been a different story, and included a delicious biscuit from Bob Evans and a slice of banana bread to boot, because Bob Evans banana bread.
Everything’s a process, right, Reader. Right.
Speaking of a process, we began the arduous task of organizing my garage yesterday. My darling and dearest Pencil (who’s done the artwork for this blog) came and helped me with Man Skillz. We have a good section of shelves added, and I need to take a huge carload – or several – of stuff to Goodwill. My Pencil actually equated it to hoarder-esque proportions, which is a bit overinflated, and then he actually called me Tyrant Trixie, and stated that I’m “bossy.” Me! Bossy! I mean. Come on. I like to think it’s helping him be his best by doing his best work. He calls that bossy. My daddy has a saying, “You can do it right or do it twice.” So yeah. While my garage may look like a jumbled heap of garage sale items, once I sort it out I only want to do it once, and I want it to look good when it’s finished.
That’s about the only thing I miss about my exhusband, his organizational skills. Everything was labeled and in it’s place. Except for his dick, which he put in many wrong places (no, Reader, not my butt! Sheesh. I can’t believe you even went there! – other women is the answer) and it would have probably helped him out had we labeled that thing for him, so he’d have known where it was supposed to go and he wouldn’t have been trying to store it in other women.
But anyway. You can tell I’m drained. I’m all over the place from cats to carbs to shelves and wandering wieners. Since I’m not feeling like this is going to get any better tonight, let’s just say goodnight, Gracie. Let’s chat later this week, mmkay?