Where is My Mind?

Saturday evening around 8:30 p.m., while everyone was hanging out around the firepit just outside the window where I sat, I emailed a presentation to work, remotely logged in to print it for my boss and then called her to let her know it was printing.

Boss: Yep, got it all right here. I'll take a look at it right now. Why don't you plan to meet me here around 10 o'clock to discuss this and the analytics project you're managing.

Me: 10 o'clock tonight? Are you f*ing kidding me?

I'm not good at the following but I finally put my foot down. Instead I met her at 7:30 a.m. on Sunday. Does the insanity ever end?

If it weren't for her warm heart, I would be convinced that she's a machine. A cyborg of some sort. I feel grossly inadequate. She used to be my aspirational model; I now know that I can never be like her. I need to take much better care of myself.

Today, I'm working just a couple of hours. Tomorrow, I'm off.

Right now, I'm printing and singing . . .

With your feet in the air and your head on the ground
Try this trick and spin it, yeah
Your head will collapse
But there's nothing in it
And you'll ask yourself
Where is my mind? Where is my mind? Whhhhhere is my mind?

pixies - where is my mind

Perfect Day

Eating for Two

PITTSFORD, New York, July 9 -- Shocking news unfolds

Doctor: I'm concerned about your weight.

Me: Really? (Feigning surprise.)

Doctor: Twenty pounds in one year is a rate I'm not comfortable with.

Me: I've weighed this much before.

Doctor: Yes, in January 2002 . . . two months after having a baby.

Doctor: That doesn't count.

Damn bacon.

Mini-free for all

Sunny. High of 77. Perfect day to sit inside the office and write a full-day workshop on Mastering the Complex Sale.

The stakes are high and so am I . . .

Bacon for Mercy

I love how Facebook advertisements really target their audience. Seriously.*



Bacon really does make everything better! I'm planning to wrap my Change Management seminar in bacon just so my boss will love it . . . either that or go home tonight and drown myself in a giant vat of smoked pig lard.

Bacon martini anyone?

*But I hate how I cannot seem to get my images the correct size on blogger. Oh well.

Driving My Life Away

Driving home from VT yesterday, Son #2 deadpanned, "The signs say 'Don't Pass' but you keep passing them anyway."

Yeah, had to rush back from fun so I could get to work on time. I need to rethink my vacation strategy STAT.

Gotta Keep Cool Now Gotta Take Care

Last night, as I was watching Son #2 play Guitar Hero, I happened to notice that the song Radar Love had the notation "As made famous by White Lion." Who the frig is White Lion and why not give credit where credit is due: to Golden Earring??

Son #2 explained, "Because the White Lion version is better."

I was incredulous.

A moment later he finished the song, put his guitar down and said, "My career has ended." He then asked, "Do you want to listen to both songs on iTunes or see my nose hairs?"

Those are my choices? I'll listen on iTunes.

He played them both for me and we were still divided. "Listen to that guitar lick." Nope. You can't sway me.

"I know how to settle this," he stated and logged into whichisgayer.

"White lion is officially gayer than golden earring."



As a perennial gloater, I have to say, I told you so. Now, let's check out those fascinating nose hairs.