A. Significantly! My weight shot up four pounds. Turns out, tequila, fat, and salt are not so much . . . diuretics.
Good to know.
Q. So, given the wonderful array of options before you, Lady C, how did you spend the wee hours of the evening?
A. I did do some work — I thought that if I got the tiny job off my plate that I would feel fresher and more motivated this morning, with only the big job before me. However, my morning has started with a stupid argument with Husband (the stupid arguments are the ones where he is so utterly wrong and yet the stakes are smallish, with little impact on our actual lives, so what is the point in setting him straight? Instead, I quietly seethe until it seeps out of my system and I am my sunny self again), so I don't feel fresh at all. Plus we need a new dishwasher.
I smelled this horrible burning plastic smell a few weeks ago when he happened to be cooking, so I'm sniffing all over the kitchen going, "What IS that? What are you burning?", which he did not take kindly to. Understood, of course, particularly since he wasn't burning anything, however, (1) something definitely was burning, namely, the plastic dishwasher part that makes the water go all squirty and was slowly melding to the heat element, and (2) he couldn't smell it, not once, though we continued to run the dishwasher for the next week and a half until I ID'd the problem.
I don't know how old our dishwasher is; it came with the house, which we bought in 1998. It's unlikely that it's original to the house, which was built in 1961, but how would I know? But in any event, they don't make parts for it any more — Husband did a copious Web search. So here we are – about to spend $500 plus, and I'm living with a man who can't smell things burning.
And then, after the quickie editing job, I went to bed without washing my face and watched what I thought was the end of Episode 3 of Bunheads, only when I taped Episode 2 and Husband taped Episode 3, neither of us adjusted the tape speed, it was too fast, and the last 10 minutes or so got cut off. So, I missed the climactic ending and I have a dirty face.
Also, I'm getting anxious about the grant I applied for; the website says that the winner will be announced tomorrow. From personal experience, I know that the winner isn't necessarily named on the website right away; I figure that if Friday comes and goes without a word from the BPL, I didn't win. But I'm trying to be chill, and I'm imagining how they might contact me if I do win. I've pictured a phone call, a letter, and an e-mail. I imagine the exact wording of each and how I might react . . . and then I say a prayer for grace and peace and try to move on.
I have done this approximately 32,147 times this week so far. If you'd like to say your own prayer for my mental health, it is most welcome.
Q. What's on tap for today, chica?
A. Glad you asked! Here's what's on my list:
- Start (and maybe finish) editing a 66-page job (the client promises that I will find it fascinating) — I'd love to have a day off tomorrow (so I can obsess), but 66 pages is long, so we'll see
- Weigh the cats with Li'l Martini to make sure we're feeding them the right amounts
- Pick up the pile of books waiting for me at the library
- Zumba! My last class with Sexy Dancey Nancy
Time to get started! That job won't edit itself, missy.
Lady C, paragon of mental health