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  • Yest eats: 2 eggs, 2 chicken feta spinach sausages, 1/2 c italian sausage spag sauce, 10 strawberries with whipped raspberry coconut milk, 1 medium Blizzard.
    Now that I've got that urge for cold chocolate out of my system, I can get back to your regularly scheduled Naiad programming.
    Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, steak in one hand, chocolate in the other, yelling "Holy F***, What a Ride!"
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    • Ee, a belated good luck!
      (and why is cold, melty chocolate so appealing?)

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      • Dinner: 10 oz medium prime rib, horseradish, sweet potato, butter, house salad w/ oil and vinegar, and a handful of fries snatched from Geek.
        Unsuperb, it falls in the same boat as ice cream for me.
        Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, steak in one hand, chocolate in the other, yelling "Holy F***, What a Ride!"
        My Latest Journal

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        • Great. It's "build your own pizza night" at the in laws. As in, start with a digiorno cheese pizza and go from there. Time to see if they have any spinach or egg so I can do my own version...
          Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, steak in one hand, chocolate in the other, yelling "Holy F***, What a Ride!"
          My Latest Journal

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          • Hey, would you look at that. I found my giveadamn! It was right next to this deadline...
            Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, steak in one hand, chocolate in the other, yelling "Holy F***, What a Ride!"
            My Latest Journal

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            • Is it busted, or still intact?
              Most people don't realize how much energy it takes for me to pretend to be normal.

              If I wanted to listen to an asshole, I'd fart.

              Twibble's Twibbly Wibbly

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              • Um.... It's a little bent and chipped, doesn't quite fit right anymore.
                Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, steak in one hand, chocolate in the other, yelling "Holy F***, What a Ride!"
                My Latest Journal

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                • Hmmmm.... My birthday's in 2.5 weeks, which means I've been at this just shy of a year (I started the day after my birthday). Damn. I can't say I've stuck with anything "healthy" for that long before (other than a half assed attempt at CW), so something must be going right.
                  Better question: aside from the obvious steak, salad, pork rinds and salsa, and broccoli w/ cheese, what do I want to eat on my birthday? I can't exactly tell my in- laws "no cake," my neice'll be heart broken. I think I'll give MIL the recipe for Valentino brownies and tell her to frost it with chocolate strawberry ganache. Note to self: do that.
                  Honestly, I think the best birthday gift would be to find out I got the new job and start there before my birthday. I don't want to find out what cake they'd buy here for me here. Andrews is a wee bit backwards....
                  [break]
                  Just got a text from SIL. Apparently, her boss really liked me and is going for his boss's approval to hire me as the next step. I see a 2nd interview in my future. Didn't expect that quite so quickly...
                  I think tonight will be body weight dice or NROLFW, not sure which. Need to make sure SIL gets a decent sports bra so we can actually do sprints at the gym this week. Even if she doesn't, I'll just get there early and do it on my own.
                  Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, steak in one hand, chocolate in the other, yelling "Holy F***, What a Ride!"
                  My Latest Journal

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                  • Sooo...what day is your birthday?
                    Most people don't realize how much energy it takes for me to pretend to be normal.

                    If I wanted to listen to an asshole, I'd fart.

                    Twibble's Twibbly Wibbly

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                    • Darwin Day.
                      Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, steak in one hand, chocolate in the other, yelling "Holy F***, What a Ride!"
                      My Latest Journal

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                      • WOOHOO!!!! Odessa's getting a Fiesta (Mexican supermarket) equivalent! Hopefully, this means better and cheaper produce and meat.
                        Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, steak in one hand, chocolate in the other, yelling "Holy F***, What a Ride!"
                        My Latest Journal

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                        • I'm trying to convince Geek that we're having leftovers night, because that means I get a curry omelet.
                          Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, steak in one hand, chocolate in the other, yelling "Holy F***, What a Ride!"
                          My Latest Journal

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                          • Well, it was supposed to be an omelet...
                            Dinner: leftover curry, 3 eggs, 1 tomato, and a handful of spinach scrambled together.
                            Dessert: pumpkinapplesauce with coconut milk and strawberries, 3/8 piece of baklava.
                            Will likely eat something else later, once I figure out what I want.
                            Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, steak in one hand, chocolate in the other, yelling "Holy F***, What a Ride!"
                            My Latest Journal

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                            • I need to get some stuff off my chest. Read or don't, I don't care.
                              My job blows asscrackers. They have no concept of how long something takes. It's either "get it done 2 weeks ago" or "we'll need this quick little thing in 3 weeks". I do governmental correspondence on projects and sites I know nothing about and they wonder why I can't answer any of the questions. I can't exactly look it up because the file is often just in someone's head. I go and I ask questions and get treated like it's something I should know. Real confidence builder. I bust my ass during my 40 hrs and they reprimand me for not doing at least 50. The drive I don't mind, except that it's an hour and 20 min I could use doing other things, like sleeping or spending time with my husband. Same goes for the extra time they demand, except that it's 2 hours and I do mind being reprimanded on it when I didn't know it was expected. MY bosses alternate between treating me like a little know- nothing intern and a PE with 20 years experience. I'm not either. They're holding management like a carrot and stick and it's the last thing I want, but I don't dare tell them for fear of being fired or demoted. My boss has a thing where he cracks a joke about something rather important ("it's your fault", "I need it by tomorrow"...) but you can't tell it's a joke because he doesn't laugh and it's completely deadpan, the only way you know is to catch the quick flicker of a smile that makes it a joke. My other boss is never in the office and sends e-mail saying "I want this tomorrow" at 10 at night.
                              My shoulder's still f-ed up from that wreck, I have miss a few hours of work AGAIN to see what the results of the overpriced MRI say, which is likely nothing and I'll be $3000 in the hole to find out that nobody knows why my shoulder is fucked up. My pills ran out yesterday (thyroid and selenium) and Walgreens is still waiting for the dr to fax over another scrip, so I couldn't take my thyroid pills today.
                              I've been in a funk for the past few weeks that's been slowly spiralling downward to true depression and I'm having to fight that. I lowered my dose on my thyroid supps, but it looks like I actually need to raise it. That nasty nagging voice is coming back and I hate when it appears, it scares me. I don't know what's causing this spiral. Well, yeah, I do. My job blows, I never see the damn sun because of my fucking job, money just got a LOT tighter, I'm 25 with a fucked up shoulder, and the depression itself is just a self feeding cycle... I'm bummed abt something-> I realize I'm bummed over something that wouldn't normally bother me-> realize depression-> bummed abt depression. Or random suicidal thought -> aghast at the idea that it's coming back-> bummed that I didn't fend it off for good-> depression->.... WTF?! Why can't I get my body and my emotions and all that shit back where they belong?! I'm only 20fucking5. What the blue hell did I fuck up in myself to cause this shit? Thanks, Mom, the Hashi's is not something I wanted to inherit. I'm starting to get into my "I hate people, the whole damn world can go to hell and fuck itself with a paper sock" phase and those generally aren't a good sign. I'm starting to go offtrack Primally more and more, which scares me, because usu I can keep a fairly tight rein on myself. Between this damn job, and travel time, and sleep, and his job, and eating, and working out, and the 5 bajillion chores that need to be done to keep the house running.... I'm this close to my fucking snapping point. Geek's been moody lately because of his allergies and some other stuff, I can't exactly call my parents on this because my Dad isn't exactly Mr. Comfort and I might drive Mom to suicide again, I can't write and get it out of my fucknig system because WHO HAS THE GODDAMN TIME, and I'm not going to a shrink because with 1 exception, none of them want to do anything besides throw pills at me. I can literally feel the tightness in my chest right now because of all this shit (anxiety attack? panic attack? who knows, who cares) and I'm working myself up into a goddammed state here at work and the entire world can still go fuck itself with a paper sock.
                              I want out, I want out I want out..... No. I need to calm the fuck down and get back to my job. Out'll happen later. No, not sucide, that's never an option. I'll figure something out. I may take it out on a heavy bag after work before I work out with SIL.
                              Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, steak in one hand, chocolate in the other, yelling "Holy F***, What a Ride!"
                              My Latest Journal

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                              • *hugs*

                                When's your first free night? I have SCA at our place tomorrow, but other than that, I'm free any time after work. We're only moving this week...BS won't mind if I leave him to do heavy lifting while I hang out with you for a few hours.
                                Most people don't realize how much energy it takes for me to pretend to be normal.

                                If I wanted to listen to an asshole, I'd fart.

                                Twibble's Twibbly Wibbly

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