DRAFT TODAY, POST TOMORROW: Some posts may be in draft status until I (aka procrastinator extraordinaire) get around to posting them.

Friday, February 10, 2012


I was still feeling emotional this morning and a coworker brought me into a conversation about how thin I am, and I should stop losing weight, and I kinda lost it.  I started crying and showed her my allergy test results, pointing out the graph for the bananas, and then talking about what the hell is amaranth, and she said "It's like you have to throw out all the research you've done, and start over, do more research.  It consumes your life."  OMG, that is exactly how I feel right now.  She gave me a hug and some sympathy (or is it pity?).  I felt guilty for being self centered, especially first thing in the morning.

So, what is amaranth? 
Later, I had a phone call with someone in another office, and she told me that she's allergic to something but hasn't been tested, isn't sure what it is, but every once in a while she gets the numb lip thing.  YES, my lips are still numb.  I can't remember if they have been numb all the way since Wednesday (now known as banana oatmeal day.  National Banana Oatmeal Day.  If it's capitalized and says national, it's an official day, right?  You better celebrate it next year.  Happy banana oatmeal day!  I'll be at home under the covers, now that I'm scared of banana oatmeal.  That would be an awesome villian in a movie, wouldn't it?  Can't you just see this giant blob of banana oatmeal tearing up NYC?) or if there was a break in there somewhere.  (Okay, that was a really long sentence with multiple sentences inside it--I hope it doesn't give you nightmares of Alien or something.)  I guess that really still doesn't tell me if it's the banana or the oatmeal.  *sigh*

I had a meeting with someone else and ended up crying again; she even gave me a hug.  I went to lunch nearly right after that, and since I needed a run to the dry cleaner, I went to Babbo.  They had my previous favorite for the lunch special--Italian sausage pasta.  Well, you know what?  That's what I had, with gluten-free pasta.  I don't know what's in the sausage, I didn't ask, and I ate it.  It was spicy yumminess.

This will seem completely unrelated, but just wait--it's not.  I love the bloggess and occassionally will check out one of her commenters blogs.  I don't know why I do this--so many of them are super awesome and then I have to follow their blogs and it's just more to read in my "spare" time.  (where "spare" is defined as any time I can put off doing something else so that I can read the bloggess and her hilarious friends.)  Today, I had to read the post about why she can't get any work done, so that I could also use that excuse.  Alas, it is not useful in my office.  They won't let me have cats or watch Dr. Who.  It's terrible, right?

So one of the first comments had a link to his post about things he would rather do than eat light mayonnaise.  How could I resist?  While that post drew me in (I will not participate in that crazy scavenger hunt list), it was the bromance with a news anchor that has me atwitter.  Really.  Pun intended.  (Am I having a bad hair humor day?)

I keep thinking that I should be on Twitter, but I'm not, because it would be one more reason to not do any work.  Not at the office, the other "work" I do outside of work, like taking care of my house and my health and shit.  Literally shit--dogs and cats and toilets, oh my.  The more you know, indeed.  Is it just a coincidence that his website is called mental poo?   I think not.

Then he says "..and a Twittermance was born (trademark pending)".  And I'm hooked.  I must get a Twitter account now.  (But am I funny enough, do I have anything interesting to say in less than 140 characters, will they like me?)  How else will I ever have a Twittermance (patent pending) or a bramance (that, I assume, is the feminine of bromance; should I pend a patent?) without an account?  I already have blog crushes, which I assume are like foreplay for a Twittermance.  I need lots of bramance and/or Twittermance since my husband does not understand why I'm completely emotional about my food issues.  (I think this is a man thing.)  So maybe you'll see me on Twitter.

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