A minefield

March 8, 2007

Ok, so I haven’t been posting.  The problem is, I can’t really talk about work.  It’s just not that I have a job I’m not supposed to talk about (which, sort of), or that what happens is so weird that “I just can’t talk about it” (which, sometimes), but it’s also a fair amount of “if you can’t say anything nice…” (which, um, yeah).  Now, I’m not saying I’d be saying anything not-nice, but maybe some of the stories I told, from my perspective, might, hmm, “reflect poorly” on other people, and even if I like and admire them, you just KNOW they’re going to find this blog just after I write some juicy bit of “guess what so-and-so did today” and recognize themselves.   And as everyone knows, work is where the really good stuff happens.

 Even to talk about processes at work, the way we do things, the whole “Jack has to approve this before Mary can approve this before Fred can even see it to recommend that Mabel pass it on to Charlie,  who could approve it, but he’s not here this week,” is dangerous ground.  I may test the waters there, but it’s gonna be a tricky one.

Anyway, if you’re one of my legions of devoted fans, rejoice! I’ve posted today!  I promise to try harder.


I’m not hungry… yet.

February 20, 2007

I got a call from my doctor’s office today.  Seems I forgot to go to the lab and get my blood re-drawn for the physical I had last month.  Oops.  But this means I have to do the whole “fast for 12 hours” thing again, which means I have to go to my morning workout without breakfast.  Yeah, that’s gonna work out just fine.

 On the bright side, I’m almost at a 20-pound loss since just before Christmas, which makes me happy.  Just 36 more to go…  I know I said this wouldn’t become one of those “weightloss blogs,” and it isn’t, but I can’t recommend Weight Watchers enough. 

Time to go watch “Life On Mars,” which, for those of you outside the UK, is a detective show about a modern-day cop who, having been hit by a car, finds himself 30 years in the past, in 1973 Birmingham, England.  Is he in a coma, is he dead, is he crazy?  Who knows?  It earn the highest accolade Susie and I bestow, which is, after each episode, we look at each other and say, “That’s a good show.”  If you can find a way, watch it.