8 Hours That Will Never Again Belong To Me

I realize I waste a lot of time doing stupid things and that time will never be mine again. It is time I spent doing meaningless shit that I enjoyed, at that moment, and therefore didn't miss those hours.

Today was not one of those days.

Today I had a class called Fundamentals of Research on the Internet. BIGGEST FUCKING WASTE OF TIME EVER. EVER. The first three hours were "how to use a search engine". So I finally get out of said ridiculous waste of time class to go to the library to do actual work for my class and the library closed 2 mintues after I got there. The most notable thing I accomplished today was getting out of bed and showering.

Needless to say, I'm not in a good mood. Tomorrow, instead of getting my work done early, I need to get up, go to the Northeastern Law Library, make my photocopies and then come home. So that puts me at 2pm, which was when I wanted to have all my work done by so I could hang out with Omar, catch up on some tv that I missed, and maybe go to the movies. Nope, all shot to hell now.

So thanks, Northeastern, for that perfectly useless fucking class and those eight missing hours that I'll never have again. You suck and I hate you with a passion usually reserved for Republicans.

MAD FACE!!

Once upon a time, Amy Poehler did a hilarious impression of Avril Lavigne on Weekend Update on SNL. She called it her mad face and ever since I do the impression when irritated because it makes Omar laugh. Today, however, was a mad face day.

I really hate my job. I'm so overqualified for it, it's ridiculous. I get called into the bosses' cubicles all the time because I'm doing so great, but I'm not a freaking moron so I don't understand how other people are fucking up. How damn hard is it to answer a phone and give people information? And yet plenty of people seem incapable of doing it, so whatever. Anyway, they're going to offer me a full time job when the temp thing is up, which I will take if I can't find anything as a paralegal because I finally started school.

I will freely admit that I used school as an excuse to justify to myself why I needed to quit my crappy job in retail. However, school always seemed like a mystical far off day that I wouldn't need to worry too much about. Well, three grand and twenty-five pounds of textbooks later, I'm back in school and taking a paralegal certification course. Last night was the first probate course, tomorrow is Research and so is Saturday. It's five sections on probate, research, ethics, real estate and litigation. I'm really hoping I like litigation because that's ideally what I want to do; I want to work either for a law firm doing criminal work or maybe in a state office. It sounds good to me.

Anyway, today I talked to brokers that are stupid, clients that are stupid, and people who work in my building who are stupid. I realize I'm not the most knowledgeable person in finance. But I know the rules and I follow them. Why can't other people? Why are they so fucking STUPID??? I just can't even deal with these people most of the time. They irritate me so badly I want to throw things. Preferrably at their heads. So it's a good thing I don't actually interact with these people in person. The pleasant voice masks the rolled eyes, unladylike hand gestures, and thrown pens. So annoying.

Tonight I am watching Veronica Mars andAmerican Idol and everything else can wait. I am going to drink another beer and try not think about how messy life is.

I worry about my baby sister. I worry that I will never, ever be able to afford my own place to live and will have to stay in the rented house that smells like feet. I worry that my parents will die without a will, not be able to live on their retirements as comfortably as they've earned the right to, that they will, in short, be old and poor and then die with nothing settled. Which is totally morbid. I guess I just worry that my parents are going to be old. It makes me so uncomfortable, the thought of them aging. I don't think I can take that. And I worry that my baby sis isn't happy when that's the only thing in the world I want for her. She's one of my favorite people ever and I love her so much and it kills me when I think she's not happy. Plus, Omar just went to this house buying seminar that basically told him we don't have enough money to own a house, which makes me want to bang my head against something. I want so desperately to own something because I don't want to have a baby while we're renting.

Which brings me to the other thing: baby fever. I want one. So badly. But I refuse to raise one in a house that smells like feet and whose walls I can't paint myself.

The Magic Number

I love the holidays. So joyous, so giving, so holidayish. And yet, thank God, they're over.

So every girl (and possibly guy) has this one number that, if they ever see it on the scale, they decide right then and there to diet. Or develop an eating disorder. After the holidays, I hit that number.

I know, realistically, that the only way I'm going to lose the weight is to work out. To exercise. To do something active to keep the weight off. I loathe working out. I hate exercise. I don't know why. I just don't enjoy it. I don't get the endorphine rush that people are supposed to get when they work out. I just get rubbery legs, a sweaty hairline, and an elevated heart rate that makes me gasp. I've tried everything: aerobics, walking, stair stepper, stationary bike. And none of it makes me want to go for it. I lost weight before the wedding by using the machine we have here, but even that sucks. I forced myself to do 30 minutes a day every day for a couple weeks before the wedding, and then for like two or three days a week right before the wedding. And I lost the weight, but I didn't feel good after the exercise. I just felt tired.

Truthfully, I don't eat that badly. I probably eat more carbs than I should, but if I have a bagel for breakfast, I don't eat carbs for the rest of the day. I try to eat moderate portions. I make healthy dinners (although last night we had pancakes for dinner, which was, I must say, heavenly). I've been drinking more than I usually do, but not to excess.

It was the holidays that put most of the weight on, almost ten pounds really. Lots of candy and chips and dips and appetizer stuff that's really just empty calories. It started at Thanksgiving and went from there. There was always stuff to munch on at work and I was buying my lunch from the cafeteria there more than bringing it.

So first thing that went was lunches at the cafeteria. Booze'll be the next. I'm trying to only snack on veggies or low fat cheese or yogurt. But it is hard. I gave up soda when I was at the store, but now for caffeine consumption I'm usually drinking at least 3 a week. So I gave it up again. I'm drinking only milk, water, and tea, with the exception of OJ in the mornings. I still have an open bottle of wine to finish, but I'm trying to use it mostly for cooking (which I must be discreet with because Omar does not like when I cook with wine).

Monday night I'm making risotto for dinner. With a big salad and maybe some chicken. Although the risotto itself could be a yummy meal. I'm going through all my cookbooks and finding recipes I like, so that's good too. The other night I made oven barbequed chicken with homemade sauce. So easy to make and very, very yummy.

I'm taking the weight loss 10 pounds at a time. I'll lose these ten pounds and then I'll see where I want to go from there (probably another 10). I don't want to spend the money on Weight Watchers because a)I'm cheap and b)the meetings drive me bonkers. I know the program works, but I can't write down everything I eat. I can't measure stuff. I know how to lose the weight, I just need to put it into action.

And get that fucking number off my scale.