5.17.00 - 20:18:31
No time to properly update--this is an entry born of obligation. Here is the Pinch in Brief (as in brevity, not underpants, you fool).
Saw a GI specialist. Turns out I'm not baffling medical science after all. I simply have a spastic colon. That I have an illness characterized by word "spastic" seems entirely appropriate, don't you agree? Plus I might be allergic to sorbital and lactose. While this may sound mundane and trite to you, it's extraordinarily interesting to me. I'll spare you the details, but I wish I had a scanner handy to show you these pamphlets they gave me. They are chock-full of drawings of clean cut men and women, doubled over, clutching their stomachs and grimacing. Funny stuff. Trust me.
No dogs allowed. NONE. I'm so disappointed. We'll have to wait until we move to Boston before we adopt a pooch. Oops. Did I say Boston? Have we made a decision, ladies and gentlemen? Yes we have! One year--maybe 18 months, but I'm coming home and I can't wait. My oldest friend moved there recently with his new fiancé which is just one more reason to get my ass back to the east coast. I miss the sea. Plus, nobody here cares whether or not you're descended from John Alden and Priscilla Mullins.
Some unsubstantiated rumors floated around at work about big promotions for "The Voice". Oh yeah, they needed her badly to head up this project. The Merger of Equals would fall apart if they didn't have her. Lots of prestige and money would be involved. Unfortunately, all I hear is rumors. Nobody has actually told me they needed me. Should it happen, however, you'll be the first to know. I promise. (Don't hold your breath.)
I leave for Vegas a week from Friday. As the day approaches, all joy surrounding the trip is slowly leeching away, replaced by the fear of plunging 30,000 feet to my death. While the dread is nothing new and it's entirely predictable, there isn't much I can do about it aside from having one of those giant airport beers before takeoff. Maybe I'll have two.
I haven't yet made a decision about the Pilates thing yet, but I've leaned heavily toward both sides now. I'll talk to Kevin about it tomorrow when I see him. If he's really serious about giving me free sessions in exchange for any advertising that might come of it, I just might move forward. The first thing I'll do is remove most work-related references from this site (including this one--don't want to unintentionally screw myself out of that rumored big promotion). Read up before it's all gone!
I gouged the crap out of my right wrist the other day while sliding something under an end table. Took off a shockingly huge chunk of skin that just sat on my arm like a bug. Boy, was it an oozing mess. The next morning after I got out of the shower, I crept into the bedroom where Hula was still sleeping to get dressed and without thinking, I did what I always do. I grabbed the bottle of Burberry, spritzed my left wrist, and proceeded to rub my right wrist into the moist, freshly scented area. Sweet Freakin' Jesus did it sting!
Let's review. Illness, disappointment, fear, indecision, pain. Yep. That about covers it.
I've long ago stopped apologizing for the lamer entries. You see, without the crap, the good entries would never stand out, you know?
