Why I Do Stuff

I learned a new word today: "swag" (thanks to the always awesome Carabee). For those who already know what this means - more power to ya. But for the rest of us, there is the Urban Dictionary. Swag: Promotional merchandise, usually distributed for free at concerts, conventions, and street-side. As in: My job at McDonalds sucks ass, but at least I get some skanky swag to donate at Salvation Army.

On a side note, a recent "word of the day" at the urban dictionary is "weenis" which is supposedly the skin on your elbow. This serves to undermine my confidence in the site...but as Fox News reminds us daily, there is an endless supply of made up words (and news).

But I digress. Back to the swag: apparently, being "in it for the swag" bears a negative connotation. But I admit it. I am totally in it for the swag:

I confess. At the grocery store, I have no intention of buying your yogurt granola bars or your summer sausage. I am in it for the swag.

I have attended the occassional "party" in which I am sold cleaning products or cookware for three times the retail price. I am in it for the brownies. (Note - Please continue to invite me to parties in which I am sold jewlery or skin care. Though I am likely to purchase more stuff if chocolatinis are supplied...)

I have hovered near the vending machine while the guy removes the nearly (ok totally) expired snacks, pretending to be indecisive about my soda choice. I am in it for the Sunchips. (Though I will still pass on the "pork rinds". Why are those even in there?)

I have placed those little shampoo and conditioner bottles in my bag knowing that they would be replaced the next day.

I have taken peanuts from airline attendants even when I am not hungry.

I have an endless supply of pens, pads, and emory boards with the names of various congress people on them. I may even have voted for a few of them.

I own a purple monkey which represnts my skeeball winnings at a Dave and Busters.

I have not purchased a toothbrush in approximately 6 years, despite the fact that the dentist repeatedly runs out of "adult" size, and gives me a "youth" sized one for free instead.

I insist on getting a free refill at least once.

God help you at an open bar.

So, am I a terrible person? Only in it for the swag? Heck no. I'm in it for the brownies, yo.

CLARGRO-Cleaning my Innards

Ok, karma*. I am not sure what (more) I did to piss you off, but I really thought losing my GPS suction thingie was enough. Really, I love a Friday afternoon nap like the next girl, but it's a bit wasted when one is just trying to forget the pain.

***
It all started with aforementioned but undefined "Operation Regain Sanity". The actual details are fairly dull, but the basic point is to motivate myself to do things when I can rather than procrastinate, because I am not home often enough to make "doing it tomorrow" a viable option. When possible, I CLAGRO Clean**. You know, I Cook larger amounts of food and store them, I do LAundry, including folding and putting away, I GROcery shop, and I clean the house and/or litter box. Fun Fun. This is the Baltimore Branch (BB) of the Operation.

The Raleigh/Airport Branch (RAB) serves as strategic support for the BB. When here, I plan for the CLAGRO by productively making lists. A side mission of ORS is to Save Money. Airport food? Costs $12, minimum. Even if you only get a salad. And don't get me started on the bills one might receive if she were inclined to sit at a bar for five hours out of sheer boredom, playing those little video games they have now. I wouldn't know.***

So, I brilliantly decided to purchase all my food in Raleigh at a grocery store I found. I stopped in on the way to the office and was immediately side tracked because they sell wine in the grocery stores in North Carolina. I selected a lovely Pinot Grigio before returning to task, when I bought meals for both lunches and both dinners. (The hotel serves breakfast.) I ate my first lunch, a turkey sandwich.

Then my plans were shattered. I returned to the hotel with my dinners and wine, and remembered that this hotel totally rocks and they host a happy hour from 5-7pm, including light fare. That night, they were serving chili (my favorite food), and free beer (my favorite kind). I had two bowls of chili and two beers. I did not go to the hotel gym and run on the treadmill as originally planned. Instead, I went to front desk to see if anyone might have a corkscrew for my impulse buy. They did not. They told me how to drive to a nearby store which probably sells them, but a) I had downed my two beers too fast to consider getting into the bubble car safely, and b) I would (presumably) not be able to take my purchase home on the plane. Oh yeah, and c) I probably shouldn't drink an entire bottle of wine by myself. I walked back up to my hotel room devising plans to drink two glasses (about half) tonight, then chug the other two glasses after dropping off the rental car but before getting on the plane. I hate to see good alcohol wasted, but I felt this was too alcoholic-y. So I walked to a bar where I saw a girl wasting five hours drinking and playing video games. It wasn't me, I swear. I did not drink, I mean eat, my dinner.

Lunch the next day. I brought the wine to the office and tried to give it away, but it may have been easier to give away a stray cat with missing fur patches and three legs. Now I see why the stuff was on sale. No one there drinks it! I ate the dinner from the night before, and put the extra meal in the freezer for next time. The chicken seemed a little undercooked, but I dismissed it.

Dinner at 17:00 DST, July 15. I ate my remaining meal, a salad, which clearly said "Use by July 17" on the label. The top was fine, but as I neared the bottom, I found some icky, slimy bits.

Constant Readers, I think you see where this is going. Lets just say I blame one of the two culprits, chicken or salad, for the night I had last night. So. Much. Pain. I read my book from about 3am 5:30am to keep the owies away. It is now 3:34pm, (15:34 DST) and I still don't feel right. And now I have to clean the bathroom again. Or was that too much information?

***

*Or should I say CAR-ma? I did not think of this witty twist until I had already posted my last entry. I'm a bit disappointed with myself.
**The military is all about their acronyms, yo. I once made the mistake of joining a volleyball team with a bunch of Coast Gaurd military wannabees, and they were all, "Hey wanna GLU at the WEEBLE?" Whatever.
***$35.00. At $2 a drink and 20 game credits for a fiver.

Brain and Stomach Battle the Munchies

If my stomach had a personality, I imagine it would be a bratty toddler who needs a nap. My brain, the exacerbated parent, responds:

Stomach: I'm huuungry!
Brain: You just had lunch 45 minutes ago. You can't be hungry.

S: Yes, yes I am. Can we go over to architecture and see if they still have the cookies from yesterday?
B: No! You can have some water. You're probably just thirsty.

S: But, Braaaain, I don't want water! I'm hungry. I want a cookie!
B: Look, do you want to ruin it for everyone else? What about butt?! She's down there, working hard for this body, and all you want to do is make her lumpy and undesirable!

S: Hmmmph. (Silence for approximately 19 seconds.) BRAIN!! I just want one cookie! Then I'll be quiet, I promise!
B: Oh my God. OK, if you PROMISE to stop with the hungry talk, I'll take you over to see if there's cookies. But if there's not, you still have to shut up, got it? No talk of vending machines, or Dunkin Donuts runs, none of that. Got it?

S: OK! Let's go!

Brain and Stomach walk across the office, and find that the cookies are gone. They have been replaced by a box of Munchkins.

B: Those are not cookies.
S: But they look OK. Let's eat a few! I'm hungry!!

B: Don't start again.
S: Munchkins are practically cookies! Come on!
B: Fine. But just one.

Hand reaches in and finds one glazed chocolate munchkin....and one with sprinkles...and another one with powdered sugar. Stomach awaits anxiously as Mouth chews while Brain, noting that the Munchkins are a little stale, begins calculating the devestation.

Best. Day. Ever.

...At work. (not of all time, or even top ten when considering the many non-work days I have thus far experienced). But I digress.

This morning, I entered the building, 10 minutes late as usual, when the alarm beeped at me. It had its desired affect I suppose, because I became alarmed - we have gotten angry emails from management regarding the accidental setting off of the alarm, and I did not wish to be the recipient of individualized reprimanding. As it was 8:10 in the AM, it took a few more seconds and another beep for me to realize that a) there are many other people in the office by now, b) the system clearly indicates that it is not armed, and c) the thing is beeping at regular, unalarming intervals. I then realize that we are out of power.

But not all power. We still have the kitchen, including the toaster and coffeemaker. And it is bagel day! This is my most favored of all days because, as you know, I love food, and especially free food. The power that we are out of? The phone and the computers, some of the lights, and the air conditioning.

What? You mean no one can call me or email me for the day, and that I can't accomplish anything? I probably wouldn't have been able to accomplish anything anyway, due to the obscene number of phone calls and emails I receive every 5 minutes, but now, I have an excuse!! It was great. We actually did get the phone back about 2 hours later, but I was proactive, and called some of my more prominent interrupters and told them not to call me or email me because I can't do anything they want me to do!! (I was later thwarted by the fax machine - I forgot that dinosaur still existed.) This also resulted in only 22 emails when I finally did get the email back, with 2 of them from friends about dinner next week. Had I not made that call, I would have easily had that many in about 2 hours.

And did you say the air conditioning was out? You mean I don't have to wear my sweater over my cute outfit? And I might actually be able to write without having to rub my hands and blow on them to get the blood flowing?

Needless to say, I got a ton of stuff done today. Literally. I have a stack of drawings to review for a construction job (wanna see it? Click here). I pushed three sets out the door and got a quarter of the way through the fourth. Yay, only 15 more. Maybe I will get to those the next time a transformer gets struck by lightening.

Fattening Up

I went to the gym tonight to find piles of sandwiches and a woman selling tee-shirts. As usual, I was late for my class and had little time to digest this (ha!) on the way in. Apparently, "guests" are free today. In other words, you are allowed the privilege of an hour long tour and solicitation to join the club for no money. What a deal. But there is free food. The irony of this set up was not lost on me when I crashed into a woman in the dressing room. She was carrying a pastrami on rye.

Break the Fast

Mini-goal number 2: Eat breakfast. Go figure: Snap, Crackle, and Pop were right. I was not in the habit of eating breakfast consistently when I began my program. I ate some days, and I just didn't have time on other days. Not eating this morning meal caused me to indulge more often in my addicting mochas, and to think about nothing but LUNCH for approximately 2 hours before LUNCH. Waking up earlier is not an option. I enjoy sleep, and I refuse to give any of it up. Instead, I began packing breakfast in addition to lunch and snack.
I actually took this one step farther, and began eating the whole day. On my spreadsheet, I call my meals "breakfast", "lunch", and "snack", but I normally eat half my "breakfast" first thing in the morning, and have the second half about two hours later...whenever I am hungry. About 2 hours after that, yay! It's lunchtime! I take my walk and try to delay lunch until 1pm. This helps fend off "the five o clock feeding frenzy" a little bit, and also allows me to peruse possible leftovers from vendor meetings. (If you work in a place that does not have vendors, I pity thee. These are people that give you a free meal, usually including a cookie, and all you have to do is listen to a presentation about their product. Even better are the occasions when you do not have to attend the presentation, but you get to enjoy the cookies and sandwiches left over after the meeting.)
Vendor meetings are extremely dangerous to a dieter. Even though you may have just eaten a perfectly fine meal, a confrontation with a chicken salad wrap and a chocolate chip cookie, free for the taking, will always end in disaster. I find that I cannot win this fight, so at least I wait until the meeting is over before eating my lunch.
My lunches all include a piece of fruit, which I eat around 2pm. Then I have my last meal, a snack, at 4pm. They say eating breakfast helps get the metabolism moving, and I hope that eating every two hours for the whole day achieves the same effect, though I think it is fairly obvious that I am not a dietitian or a doctor and pretty much feel that insides are inside for a reason - they are icky. I do know that this system works for me because I get hungry, and I eat. Not a lot, just enough to allow my thoughts to focus on something other than dieting. In the end, my overall calorie intake is smaller because denying the urge to eat only makes me want to eat more, and I give in to myself eventually. My belly can be very persistent.