Random musings

I have no idea what's been wrong with me lately. Last Friday I didn't even log into Diaryland to read other people's entries. That's a first for me. Even if I don't feel like writing, I at least read. Hmm...

My doctor's appointment to change my psycho-making birth control pills is Wednesday morning. I'll also bring up the whole ADD thing. Hopefully we can get the ball rolling on the testing and the drug giving for that. I'm seriously thisclose to smacking the crap out of myself daily, in an attempt to keep myself on task.

This weekend was a good time. Basically a bunch of hanging out and enjoying herbal refreshment and eating (Hi. I gained 6 lbs. last week. OINK!) and some poker playing. Can I just say that playing Texas Hold 'Em while 4 out of the 5 players are chemically enhanced/drunk is a bit difficult? Talk about short attention spans. Jeez!

I felt bad for my husband, as he had to go into work from midnight on Saturday night until 6 AM on Sunday (FUCKING STUPID EXECUTIVES!!!!!!), and therefore couldn't partake of the festivities at the party Saturday night. He must have been in hell...dealing with 4 stupid-from-drugs people while he was totally sober. It's an admirable thing that he only yelled at one person once...and even then it was less yelling and more "gentle reminder".

Once the poker game was down to my husband and I, we decided we'd probably split the money anyway. Our guests left, and we spent a little quality time together before he had to drive his happy ass an hour away to sit for 6 hours, doing nothing.

Sunday we went shopping at the mall. I actually had some money with which to buy things, so I was in the mood to SHOP. He wasn't in the mood to buy things, of course. At least he was patient with me while I shopped and tried things on.

It's a damn good thing I bring him shopping with me. Were it just me, I would have bought the pair of size 6 pants that I thought fit great, but he noticed they were pulling a bit in the crotch/thigh area, thereby making it necessary for me to go one size up. This size denial thing has got to stop. He keeps threatening to cut all the tags out of my clothes, so I am not as freaked out about the size of some of them. "It's just a number!!" he keeps telling me.

And I know that.

And yet...it doesn't really matter. Because in my head I'm still the 108-lb. thing I was last year. Not the 125-lb. thing I am this year.

Bah.

But, at least now I own my very first CASHMERE sweater.

(And when I type CASHMERE, I actually say it like KAASH-MEHRE...like someone who is very rich and snooty and wouldn't deign to allow any fabric that isn't soft and beautiful and wonderful and expensive to touch their skin.)

I warned my husband that the day I wear it, I will probably be molesting myself ALL. DAY. LONG. It is THAT soft and luxurious.

The salesgirl warned me not to wear it when I'll be running around a lot. She said they tend to get very hot. I told her that would work out quite well, as the temperature in my office usually equals that of a meat locker during the winter.

I LOVE it. LOVE. Seriously.

But I'm worried that I will now be ruined for all other materials forever...like with my flying First Class experience. Economy just isn't the same.

*sigh*

Oh well. I think I'll just have to live with owning such a lovely article of clothing.

My boss leaves for Cambodia on Friday. I wonder what he'll think of it? I wonder if he'll run into Angelina Jolie? I wonder if he runs into Angelina Jolie, if he'll bring her home as a souvenir for me?

After all, my birthday is a mere 16 days away.

*grin*