Dammit… I hate it when I’m bored. And tired.
My definition of being bored is when nothing you can think of sounds good. Usually this is when I would eat something. Good thing our fridge is out of instant food snacky items like hot dogs and lunchmeat and low-carb tortillas, and I’m tired of string cheese.
So… um… I guess I’ll go through my stack of scrap paper on which I have written things I should blog about, and write about them until I decide it’s time to go to bed or go read or something. (I really do have a stack of scrap paper on my desk, with stuff I need to do and to blog about. I write myself notes at work, since I’ll get canned for posting to my LJ on the job, or even on break.)
I made an unfortunate discovery last night. Remember back when I was blogging about “I hope my ass doesn’t look like that”? (I can’t find the entry, but I remember writing it.) Well, before I took my shower last night, I was contemplating myself in the full-length mirror. —Yeah, I know, just hold your upchuck till the end of my story, OK? Anyway, I was contemplating the fact that I recently downgraded (or would it be upgrading?) from “obese” to “slightly overweight,” according to my BMI of 30. Sooo… I took my hand mirror, turned around, and looked at my bare ass.
And let me tell you, it was not a pretty sight.
My ass does look like that.
I look much better from the side than from either the front or the back. Get myself a boob lift, lose some more paunch/gut/fat/belly/whathaveyou, and I’d be looking downright normal when viewed from the side. From the front… now that’s going to take a bit more work.
In other news, hearing 30- and 40-somethings in my office discuss how to spell “whoop-ass” (or, as they insist, “whup-ass”) is quite amusing.
Something else I heard from one nearly-50-year-old woman in my office, regarding her 401(k): “It’s my future—you’d think I’d pay more attention. But I don’t have the time to look into all these things! It’s like a crapshoot; you just hope for the best.” Wow… I’ve got thirty-some-odd years until retirement, and I check my 401(k) at least monthly, if not weekly. This woman is my Mom’s age, and she just doesn’t give a shit. That’s amazing. (Of course, my Mom’s going to be working until she dies, for lack of any savings whatsoever.)
Oh, and you’ve gotta take this quiz. The results will amaze you.
After you’ve done that, use some free long-distance minutes to call this recording: 248-262-6861. It’s a Detroit number, and it’s just the cost of the long-distance call. It’s not some weird 900-number thing. Just call it, OK? You’ll be glad you did.
OK, um… I think I’m done now.