dianaschnuth

Aaron’s off at a Frank Black show in Cleveland with Kris and Kris this evening. I opted not to go for several reasons, not the least of which being that I have to work tomorrow. Instead, I ended up throwing together a (half-assed) Halloween podcast, which frees up tomorrow night for my annual Halloween genealogy devotional.

The time change seems to be catching up with me tonight, too. It’s not even 10pm yet, and already I’m feeling like it’s time to wash the dishes and go to bed. Yesterday’s leaf-raking extravaganza has well and truly taken hold, as well, so my back and arms are hella sore and stiff, which is also helping to edge me toward bed.

Good thing I didn’t end up going to the show — I’d be turning into a pumpkin barely halfway through, and putting a damper on everyone’s good time.

Certain kinds of depression cause me to overeat. I just basically wear a path in the carpet between my chosen point of food consumption and the kitchen. Then I feel like an ass and get more depressed and eat more. Rinse and repeat.

Other kinds of depression cause me to not give a damn about eating, and to find that everything in life is basically a waste of my time. Had I discovered this interesting brand of depression back in high school, at least my perpetual depression would have had some practical purpose, or at least a more positive side-effect than weight GAIN.

As it is, I’m currently making some chicken salad because I know that today’s combined repast of a breakfast bar, an apple, a yogurt, and a string cheese will not get me through the evening. Eventually, if I don’t eat, something will snap, and I’ll find myself standing in front of a near-empty refrigerator, wondering what the hell happened.

I challenge any card-carrying, estrogen-toting woman to make it through a viewing of Steel Magnolias without crying. Or at least misting up. Especially the end (SPOILER WARNING… if you can spoil an 18-year-old movie):

M’Lynn (after her daughter’s funeral): I don’t think I can take this! I just wanna *hit* somebody ’til they feel as bad as I do! I just wanna *hit* something! I wanna *hit it hard*!
Clairee (pushing her grumpy buddy Ouiser forward): Here! Hit this! Go on, M’Lynn, slap her!

I don’t make a habit of watching Steel Magnolias. But when I surf past Lifetime and find that it’s playing, I either find it absolutely repelling or impossible to resist, depending on my mood. My estrogen level must’ve been elevated tonight after being all crafty; I cooked *and* made candles in the same night. 🙂

Cooking, crafts, and crying at a movie. I think I’ve had my fill of girlie stuff for a while. Makes up for joining in last week’s football pool at work, I guess.

Someone is using my schnuth.com e-mail address — which currently forwards to my gmail account — as a return address for spam. I’ve gotten at least four autoreplies today — no, make that five, as another one just came in — from various recipients, including Yahoo Groups and other mailing lists.

This pisses me off on so many levels. Now I have to wonder if my schnuth.com address will be spamblocked on some random server when I try to send an e-mail sometime in the future. I’ve also run Spybot and Norton Antivirus on my computer to make sure nothing’s hijacked my Outlook Express that I never use. I figure that someone probably just forged their headers in reverse, using their spam recipient list as a perfect source for reply-to addresses.

Bastards.

What pisses me off the most is that the genie’s out of the bottle now. I can’t go and tell all these people and mailing lists, “Sorry, but some spammer is using my e-mail address to spam you. It’s not really me!” Whatever. If some unfortunate result comes of this… *shrug* There’s nothing really to be done about it.

At least I don’t use that address very much anymore.

I didn’t wake up in a pissy mood. Granted, seeing the scale jump three pounds in one day — in the wrong direction — made me understandably disappointed, but I wasn’t in a pissy mood yet. My pissy mood ended up being the culmination of a bunch of small things that wouldn’t have been a big deal by themselves, but all together made me smolder.

I was answering phones today (my duty once or twice a week), and I got a teller who said, “Can I put the client on and have him explain his question to you?” Which, when translated, means, “I don’t understand what the client is talking about, and I know you are an internal call center only, and you don’t talk to clients, but it’s going to be so much harder if I have to relay what the client says to me verbatim because I don’t understand.” The client in question happened to be a CPA — and I do give him credit for not rubbing that in my face — but when I took his number and told him I’d research his question and call him back later, it made me that much more diligent in getting my interest calculations correct to the penny and to the day. Which took several hours. When I called him back, he had a client in his office, so I left him a voicemail. He didn’t get back to me before I left at 5pm.

I also got a few calls about things that people thought weren’t done right, and I had to research; or things that really weren’t done right, and I had to correct.

The football kids were standing in the street again on my way home. I seriously hate that smug “you can’t hit me” look they give me. You’ve got a helmet on, kid… you wouldn’t concuss too bad. Don’t fucking tempt me.

I got home and checked my email to find that the LSM forums have started getting spammed, despite the manual registration process and the required e-mail reply to confirm registration. And I found out that the report I had so carefully crafted in such a brief time to the exclusion of other priorities at the moment has either officially or unofficially been tabled for the time being. Which I can understand, being that there are other, more pressing matters for the board to take care of right now, but I guess I assumed that everything on the agenda would be discussed. My bad.

Aaron said I should exercise tonight, that it’ll make me feel better, and I know he’s right. I’m also tempted to just sit down in front of a game of Civ IV for the evening, though, and take it out on the Spanish or something.

I’m dangerous in this mood. I never get mad, so when I do, I tend to keep it going as long as I can, for no good reason. It’s a novel feeling, if not a particularly useful or productive one.

Time to go turn on the news and go eat some food.