This turned out to be a long post about Many Things.

Rawr.

Plastic Surgery Complications - Update (again, again..)

This turned out to be a long post about Many Things.

09/30/2007

Yesterday's eating wasn't too bad, considering I kept busy ("working") all day. I nearly crashed once - I felt things going fuzzy, and I drank a protein/fruit shake immediately and it held it off. I'm hating this in "public." Poking my finger isn't so much the thing to do whilst making coffee.

I have to get ready and go back this afternoon. I am not looking forward to it. We have a smallish annoyance there - and it's a very little something that drives ME absolutely bat-poop.

I think I have realized that I want to work "normal" hours when I find a big-girl job. What is normal? Eh, not necessarily 9 to 5 Monday through Friday, but it's probably very close. I need to be here in the late afternoon/evenings - when the kids are out of school, at very the latest, 5:30pm. I don't need to be here on weekends, but I WANT to. The boy has a game today, and I would have liked to go.

Little things like that I will miss if I'm not here on weekends. I don't know. I'd feel better about being elsewhere making money if I were making money, if you know what I mean. Thirty hours of work for one trip to Super-Wal*Mart each Friday. I'm serious - if I work thirty hours, it's about $230.00. That's the week. I buy groceries and household needs, with occasional things like a winter jacket, shoes, bits of clothing, socks, etc, and it's gone. I'm not making a dent in the bills in any capacity, beyond actually just covering the groceries. Sure, that's a huge help, but, is it really? Perhaps if I were doing something that earned bill money - I would feel differently.

That, and...

I saw a girl I graduated high school with ten billonty years ago yesterday. I knew her immediately - I told her that I recognized her. She hadn't a clue who I was. Not a clue, you should have seen the look on her face! She, looked identical to the way I recall her from elementary school, even. She asked who I was, and I told her, she said, "You look good, not that you didn't look good before, but you look good!" Uh, thanks. I hate that response. I always get that - but it kills me - because I wasn't that FAT when I graduated, yet, I am remembered that way. This is why if I recognize someone, I let them initiate the conversation if they recognize me - because it's so ****ing awkward. I don't want them to mention how I "look." It's silly at this point.

She goes on to say that she talks to none of her old friends from school, and I say that I've had a similar experience, because I don't really talk to any beyond the random conversation via online contacts - aka MySpace. We discuss how it's a bit odd how people change, yadda yadda yadda. I tell her that "what gets me" is that people that would have been first in line on the bus to poke me with a stick back then, are the first to stop and talk to me NOW, and I hate that.