- Remember a week ago when I declared that I was going to prioritize self-care? The very next day, due to a series of unfortunately scheduled meetings and also some poor planning on my part, I skipped breakfast AND lunch and was a shaky, weak mess by the time I dragged my exhausted ass home. I almost fell over while trying to pour myself some juice (“DRINK YER JOOCE, SHELBY”) and Ed had to throw some crackers at me while he made dinner, which I promptly wolfed down.
- I did a better job the rest of the week.
- No, really! I have limited myself to one cup of coffee in the morning, water throughout the day, and no booze. And food! I’m also chugging Emergen-C because apparently there are at least three sick people in this office on any given day.
- Ed left town for work on Friday and it has been non-stop fun and excitement for days. I have rearranged the living and dining rooms, cleaned out the refrigerator, reorganized Ed’s side of the closet, and spent a glorious afternoon at The Container Store, but managed to restrain myself when it came to purchasing items. This evening I plan to mop the kitchen floor. One person’s cocaine-fueled orgy is another’s weekend of nesting and cleaning.
- I’m generally indifferent to celebrity deaths and the like, but David Bowie’s passing really hit me. One of the things I’ve always appreciated about my parents was that they shared their musical tastes with me and made sure that I had exposure to various genres and didn’t grow up on a strict diet of New Kids on the Block and Milli Vanilli. I loved a lot of what we listened to together, but Bowie is probably the one artist I still gravitate towards regularly. I saw him in concert 20 years ago (when I tell my 30 year-old coworkers that, they look at me like I just announced I had a pet pterodactyl growing up) and while it was all new material and a little more emo than what I typically enjoy, there was no denying he put on a great show.