I am ugh..behind in posting.
Have I mentioned I don't believe in owning a scale? Not because I'm overweight. Rather, it's the contrary. I am naturally slim but I have a bit of a streak of obsessive compulsive when it comes to my weight. So in my experience it's better to just not know. Not put the temptation in front of me. Not to have that number scream at evil judgmental thoughts my way.
But my dad asked how much the puppy weighs now. My guestimation is a lot. I carry that little guy around like he's a big sack of sugar. He's such a sweet little cuddle bug and I don't care that he's going to be gigantic one day. Right now he's a puppy and right now I get to hug him and cuddle him. But anyway the point is that dad was curious and asked if he could weigh Roni. Well, sure. Why not?
But you can't get a puppy to sit on a scale, so I had to carry him. Well, long story short the weight of me and the Roni is under 140lbs and I started to immediately panic that I was dying. Of death. Right then and there. I would just fall over from being too frail. This is why I don't own a scale. I go from reasonable to unreasonable in like 0.2 seconds.
Now there's not a lot I can do other than try and pump up my diet with more substantial fare. I'm not anorexic. I'm not bulimic. I'm just stressed out and I can't find the time to eat because my job is stressing me out. I'm grateful to have a job but it's putting a serious dent in my ability to be a healthy human being.
I love to eat. I just don't have time. I have a broken kitchen. I can't even go to the grocery store for more supplies I want because who will keep an eye on the puppy? My husband is climbing all over the place fixing the house. And naturally I'm expected to help fix my house too and I'm just.so.very.tired. I don't want to not help, but I also don't want to die of exhaustion in a sad heap of chicken legs and gangley arms on top of a gigantic pile of leaves out in the yard as my husband yells at me I gave him the wrong screwdriver.
It's a pretty sad way of passing.
Work's been rough for Trevor too but mostly because he's been tasked with hiring for a new position and pretty much everyone's been a gigantic flake. That's my professional opinion of the matter. I realize it's not the most glamorous job of all time but I feel bad that he's had such a big streak of inconsistent employees. And it was only worse when he hired someone we know because they ended up being the worst flake of all and now I will never think of that person as anything other than completely undependable.
I guess it's just best to put a big line in the sand and say no to friends and no to family when it comes to something that has a direct financial undertone. Trevor's job puts food on our table and now he looks like he intentionally hired someone due to nepotism and it underscores his own professionalism. I'm a tad upset about it because people can mess up their own lives and quit jobs in their own time but when it effects us? I am not a happy camper.
It's been a lot of things. A large pile of stress combined with a severely handicapped social network. I don't know what it is but everyone's been bailing on me and strangely enough the only person who's been consistent lately is living in New Mexico and I can't want to see her and prep her guestroom and decompress. I don't blame Kim for being busy though, she's got a kid and she's finally finally going on a vacation. I don't think she's been on a real one in like 6 years. If anyone deserves a trip it's her.
Trevor says he's going to miss all the projects when they're done. I could not disagree more. I can't wait until the bathrooms are finished and I can finally just do my own thing rather than be my husband's gopher. I'd rather shop for furniture and cook in my kitchen and buy curtains any day. And right now? I have no time to do any of that. I can't wait for just one day all to myself.